the game
laws by declarin' a close season on bachelors, say from the fifteenth of
August to the fifteenth of December."

"Too bad about the young men, isn't it?" says Sadie. "Anyone would think
we set traps for them."

"Show me a trap easier to fall into and harder to get out of," says I,
"and I'll make my fortune by puttin' it on the market as a new puzzle.
But blaze ahead. I ain't worryin'. I'm on the inside lookin' out,
anyway. Wish a hubby on her if you can."

And I must say it ain't any amateur effort Sadie puts over. From far and
near she rounds 'em up on one excuse or another, and manages to have 'em
meet Veronica. She don't take 'em miscellaneous or casual, like she
would for most girls. I notices that she sifts 'em out skillful, and
them that don't come somewhere near the six-foot mark gets the gate
early in the game. You catch the idea? Course, nobody would expect
Veronica to fall for any stunted Romeo that would give her a crick in
the back when it come to nestlin' her head on his shoulder.

So with size added to the other elimination tests it must have made hard
scratchin' at times. But somehow or other Sadie produces a dozen or more
husky young chaps with good fam'ly connections and the proper financial
ratin's. Among 'em was a polo player, two ex-varsity fullbacks, and a
blond German military aide that she borrowed from a friend in Washington
for the occasion. She tries 'em out single and in groups, using Mrs.
Purdy-Pell's horseshow box and town house as liberal as railroad waitin'
rooms. And, say, when it comes to arrangin' chance tete-a-tetes, and
cozy little dinner parties where the guests are placed just right, she
develops more ingenuity than a lady book agent runnin' down her victims.
Talk about shifty work! She makes this fly-and-spider fable sound
clumsy.

Course, she had a cinch in one way. All she has to do is exhibit
Veronica in some public place, and she has every man in sight twistin'
his neck. They dropped for her at the first glimpse. It didn't need any
elaborate scenic effects to cause a stampede, either; for the simpler
she gets herself up the more dangerous she is, and in a plain black
velvet dress, with an old lace collar cut a little low in front, all she
lacks is a gold frame and a number to look like a prize portrait at the
National Academy. Say, I ain't got much of an eye that way myself, but
the first time I saw her in that rig I held my breath for two minutes on
a stretch, an