about Marjorie and the bridge people, and had
remembered the cablegram from Sister Marjorie sayin' how their party'd
been broken up on account of sickness and she was comin' home
alone--why, it was all like readin' it off a bulletin. Marjorie's
arrivin' durin' business hours was likely to mess up the schedule.
Course, if the bridge concern didn't send word----

I'd got to that point, when in drifts my old A. D. T. runnin' mate,
Hunch Leary, draggin' his feet behind him and chewin' gum industrious.
Now Hunch don't look like a tempter. He's plain homely, that's all. But
comin' just as he did, with Piddie over there glarin' at me
suspicious--well, I just had to do it.

"Sure I got blanks on me?" says Hunch. "Wot then?"

Right under Piddie's nose he fixes it up too, and waits while I takes
the phony message in to Mr. Robert. It wa'n't such a raw one, either;
not as if it had sent him off to wait at some hotel. "Will try to get
around about two-thirty Trimble," was all it said. And how did we know
Trimble wouldn't try, anyway?

"That settles it," says Mr. Robert, crumplin' the yellow sheet. "Torchy,
you must do the family honors."

"Do which?" says I, with business of great surprise.

"Meet my sister Marjorie, see that she gets through the customs without
landing in jail, and take her home in a taxi. Think you're equal to it,
eh?" says he.

"I could make a stab," says I.

"I'll risk that much," says he.

And before there's any chance for a revise I've marched by Piddie with
my tongue out and am pikin' towards the North River with a pier pass in
one pocket and expense money in another, specially commissioned to meet
the very steamer that's bringin' in Miss Vee and her Count. All of which
shows how curious things will coincide if you use your bean a little to
help 'em along.

Well, you know how it is waitin' in a push of people for a steamer.
Everybody's excited and anxious and keyed up, ready to jump at every
whistle, and stretchin' their necks for a peek down the river. It's as
catchin' as the baseball fever when you're in a mob watchin' the scores
posted. I finds myself actin' just as eager as any, and me only doin'
messenger work.

Finally the boat shows up; but instead of sailin' in graceful and
prompt, she shuts off steam and lays to out in the middle of the river,
about as lifeless as a storage warehouse afloat, while a dozen or so
dinky tugs begin pushin' and pullin' to get her somewhere near the pier.
T