't got back their reg'lar color
yet!

Seemed like my feet was stuck to the floor, too. Maybe it was an hour I
stood there, and maybe it was only a minute; but at last I takes one
wild look around over that girl convention and then I backs out. I'd
seen him, though. Way over by an open window on the other side was Mr.
Robert, one of the four men in that whole crowd. So out the front door I
rushes and then tiptoes around the veranda until I came to him.

And he wa'n't gazin' around watchin' for casual butters-in. Not Mr.
Robert! All he's seein' is the slim young lady standin' up on the
platform with the violin tucked under her chin. You couldn't blame him
much, either; for, while I ain't any judge of the sort of music she was
teasin' out of the strings, I'll say this much: The way she was doin' it
was well worth watchin'. The swing of that elbow of hers, and the
Isadora Duncan sway of her shoulders as she hits the high notes sure did
have some class to it. He's so busy followin' her motions that he don't
even know when I leans in within six inches of him and whispers. So I
has to give him the gentle prod.

"Eh!" says he, whirlin' around. "Why, what the--Torchy!"

"Uh-huh," says I. "Crawl out backwards, can't you?"

"Wha--what's that!" says he, whisperin' sort of husky.

"You got to do it," says I. "I was sent up special to get you."

"Why, what's the matter?" says he.

"P. K. & Q. contracts," says I. "Did you file 'em yet?"

"By Jove, no!" he groans under his breath. "I--I forgot."

"Then it's a case of beat it," says I.

"But--but I can't!" says Mr. Robert. "I can't possibly leave now, right
in the middle of----"

"That's so," says I. "She's lookin' this way now. But where'd you stow
the contracts? Remember that, do you?"

"Why, of course," says he. "Third left hand drawer of my desk, in a
document box."

"'S enough!" says I. "I'll 'phone down and tell 'em. They'll fix it up.
Don't move; she's lookin' your way again."

"Wait!" says he, behind his hand. "I must see you before you go back,
after the concert is over. Wait for me in the garden."

"In the garden, Maud, it is," says I, and with that I slides back to the
front entrance and gets Marie to lead me to the 'phone booth.

Well, I'd got the joint all sized up now. It's one of these swell
boardin' schools for girls, where they take piano lessons and are
exposed to French and the German measles. And, now my knees has quit
wabblin' and I was safe out