"Oh, never mind," says he, hangin" up. Then, turnin" to us, he shrugs his shoulders. "It wasn"t Oggie. Why, he doesn"t even know which board he was acting on, and says he doesn"t remember what we were talking about. Thought it was some sort of committee meeting."

"Then that eliminates all but some member of the office staff," says Old Hickory. "Torchy, you acted as secretary. Do you remember that anyone came into the directors" room during our session?"

"Not a soul," says I.

"Except the boy Vincent," suggests Piddie.

"Ah, he wasn"t in," says I. "Only came to the door with some telegrams; I took "em myself."

"But was not a letter sent to our Western manager," Piddie goes on, "hinting that the G. L. T. dividend might be pa.s.sed, and doesn"t the boy have access to the private letter book?"

"Carried it from my desk to the safe, that"s all," says I.

"Still," insists Piddie, "that would give him time enough to look."

"Oh, sure!" says I. "And since he"s been here he"s had a chance to snitch, off a barrel full of securities, or drop bombs down the elevator well; but somehow he hasn"t."

"Well, we might as well have him in," says Old Hickory, pushin" the buzzer.

Seemed kind of silly to me, givin" fair-haired Vincent the third degree on sketchy hunch like that. Vincent! Why, he"s been with the Corrugated four or five years, ever since they took me off the gate. And when he went on the job he was about the most innocent-eyed office boy, I expect, that you could find along Broadway. Reg"lar mommer"s boy. Was just that, in fact. Used to tell me how worried his mother was for fear he"d get to smokin" cigarettes, or shootin" c.r.a.ps, or indulgin" in other big-town vices. Havin" seen mother, I could well believe it. Nice, refined old girl, still wearin" a widow"s bonnet. Shows up occasionally on a half-holiday and lets Vincent take her to the Metropolitan Museum, or to a concert.

Course, Vincent hadn"t stayed as green as when he first came. Couldn"t.

For it"s more or less of a liberal education, being on the gate in the Corrugated General Offices, as I used to tell him. You simply gotta get wise to things or you don"t last. And Vincent has wised up. Oh, yes.

Why, here only this last week, for instance, he makes a few plays that I couldn"t have done any better myself. One was when I turns over to him the job of gettin" Pullman reservations on the Florida Limited for Freddie, the chump brother-in-law of Mr. Robert. Marjorie--that"s the sister--had complained how all she could get was uppers, although they"d had an application in for six weeks. And as she and Freddie was taking both youngsters and two maids along they were on the point of givin" up the trip.

"Bah!" says Mr. Robert. "Freddie doesn"t know how to do it, that"s all.

We"ll get your reservations for you."

So he pa.s.ses it on to me, and as I"m too busy just then to monkey with Pullman agents I shoots it on to Vincent. And inside of an hour he"s back with a drawin" room and a section.

"Have to buy somebody; eh, Vincent?" I asks.

"Oh, yes, sir," says he cheerful.

"Just how did you work it?" says I.

"Well," says Vincent, "there was the usual line, of course. And the agent told three people ahead of me the same thing. "Only uppers on the Limited." So when it came my turn I simply shoved a five through the grill work and remarked casual: "I believe you are holding a drawing-room and a section for me, aren"t you?" "Why, yes," says he.

"You"re just in time, too." And a couple of years ago he would have done it for a dollar. Not now, though. It takes a five to pull a drawing-room these days."

"A swell bunch of grafters Uncle Sam turned back when he let go of the roads, eh?" says I.

"It"s the same in the freight department," says Vincent. "You know that carload of mill machinery that had been missing for so long? Well, last week Mr. Robert sent me to the terminal offices for a report on their tracer. I told him to let me try a ten on some a.s.sistant general freight agent. It worked. He went right out with a switch engine and cut that car out of the middle of a half-mile long train on a siding, and before midnight it was being loaded on the steamer."

Also it was Vincent who did the rescue act when we was entertainin" that bunch of government inspectors who come around once a year to see that we ain"t carryin" any wildcat stocks on our securities list, or haven"t scuttled our sinking fund, or anything like that. Course, our books are always in such shape that they"re welcome to paw "em over all they like.

That"s easy enough. But, still, there"s no sense in lettin" "em nose around too free. Might dig up something they could ask awkward questions about. So Old Hickory sees to it that them inspectors has a good time, which means a suite of rooms at the Plutoria for a week, with dinners and theatre parties every night. And now with this Volstead act being pushed so hard it"s kind of inconvenient gettin" a crowd of men into the right frame of mind. Has to be done though, no matter what may have happened to the const.i.tution.

But this time it seems someone tip at the Ellins home had forgot to transfer part of the private cellar stock down to the hotel and when Old Hickory calls up here we has to chase Vincent out there and have him load two heavy suitcases into a taxi and see that the same are delivered without being touched by any bellhops or porters. Knew what he was carryin", Vincent did, and the chance he was taking; but he put over the act off hand, as if he was cartin" in a case of malted milk to a foundling hospital. They do say it was some party Old Hickory gave "em.

I expect if a lot of folks out in the church sociable belt knew of that they"d put up a big howl. But what do they think? As I was tellin"

Vincent: "You can"t run big business on grape juice." That is, not our end of it. Oh, it"s all right to keep the men in the plants down to one and a half per cent stuff. Good for "em. We got the statistics to prove it. But when it comes to workin" up friendly relations with federal agents you gotta uncork something with a kick to it. Uh-huh. What would them Rubes have us do--say it with flowers? Or pa.s.s around silk socks, or scented toilet soap?

And Vincent, for all his innocent big eyes and parlor manners, has come to know the Corrugated way of doing things. Like a book. Yet when he walks in there on the carpet in front of Old Hickory and the cross-questionin" starts he answers up as straight and free as if he was being asked to name the subway stations between Wall Street and the Grand Central. You wouldn"t think he"d ever gypped anybody in all his young career.

Oh, yes, he"d known about the G. L. T. board meetin". Surely. He"d been sent up to Mr. Robert"s club with the message for Oggie Kendall to come down and do his director stunt. The private letter book? Yes, he remembered putting that away in the safe. Had he taken a look at it? Why should he? Vincent seems kind of hurt that anyone should suggest such a thing. He stares at Old Hickory surprised and pained. Well, then, did he happen to have any outside friends connected with the Curb; anybody that he"d be apt to let slip little things about Corrugated affairs to?

"I should hope, sir, that if I did have such friends I would know enough to keep business secrets to myself," says Vincent, his lips quiverin"

indignant.

"Yes, yes, to be sure," says Old Hickory, "but----"

Honest, he was almost on the point of apologizin" to Vincent when there comes this knock on the private office door and I"m signalled to see who it is. I finds one of the youths from the filin" room who"s subbin" in on the gate for Vincent. He grins and whispers the message and I tells-him to stay there a minute.

"It"s a lady to see you, Mr. Ellins," says I. "Mrs. Jerome St Claire."

"Eh?" grunts Old Hickory. "Mrs. St. Claire? Who the syncopated Sissyphus is she?"

"Vincent"s mother, sir," says I.

This time he lets out a snort like a freight startin" up a grade. "Well, what does she want with----?" Here he breaks off and fixes them chilled steel eyes of his on Vincent.

No wonder. The pink flush has faded out of Vincent"s fair young cheeks, his big blue eyes are rolled anxious at the door, and he seems to be tryin" to swallow something like a hard-boiled egg.

"Your mother, eh?" says Old Hickory. "Perhaps we"d better have her in."

"Oh, no, sir! Please. I--I"d rather see her first," says Vincent choky.

"Would you?" says Old Hickory. "Sorry, son, but as I understand it she has called to see me. Torchy, show the lady in."

I hated to do it, but there was no duckin". Such a nice, modest little old girl, too. She has the same innocent blue eyes as Vincent, traces of the same pink flush in her cheeks, and her hair is frosted up genteel and artistic.

She don"t make any false motions, either. After one glance around the group she picks out Old Hickory, makes straight for him, and grabs one of his big paws in both hands.

"Mr. Ellins, is it not?" says she. "Please forgive my coming in like this, but I did want to tell you how grateful I am for all that you have done for dear Vincent and me. It was so generous and kind of you?"

"Ye-e-es?" says Old Hickory, sort of draggy and encouragin".

"You see," she goes on, "I had been so worried over that dreadful mortgage on our little home, and when Vincent came home last night with that wonderful check and told me how you had helped him invest his savings so wisely it seemed perfectly miraculous. Just think! Twelve hundred dollars! Exactly what we needed to free our home from debt. I know Vincent has told you how happy you have made us both, but I simply could not resist adding my own poor words of grat.i.tude."

She sure was a weak describer. Poor words! If she hadn"t said a whole mouthful then my ears are no good. Less"n a minute and a half by the clock she"d been in there, but she certainly had decanted the beans. She had me tinted up like a display of Soviet neckwear, Piddie gawpin" at her with his face ajar, and Vincent diggin" his toes into the rug. Lucky she had her eyes fixed on Old Hickory, whose hand-hewn face reveals just as much emotion as if he was bettin" the limit on a four-card flush.

"It is always a great pleasure, madam, to be able to do things so opportunely," says he; "and, I may add, unconsciously."

"But you cannot know," she rushes on, "how proud you have made me of my dear boy." With that she turns to Vincent and kisses him impetuous. "He does give promise of being a brilliant business man, doesn"t he?" she demands.

"Yes, madam," says Old Hickory, indulgin" in one of them grim smiles of his, "I rather think he does."

"Ah-h-h!" says she. Another quick hug for Vincent, a happy smile tossed at Old Hickory, and she has tripped out.