y was generally one of the favored guests. I didn't
need any second sight, either, to suspect that Vinton was sort of
crowdin' in on this little romance of Rupert's. And by eggin' Rupert
along judicious I got the whole tale.

Seems it had been one of Mrs. Mumford's ambitions to spring Rupert on an
unsuspectin' public. Her idea is to have Rupert called on, some night at
the Purple Pup, to step up to the head of the long table and give one of
his sea songs. She'd picked Vinton to do the callin'. And Vinton had
balked.

"But say," says I, "is this Vinton gent the only one of her friends
that's got a voice? Why not pick another announcer?"

"I'm sure I don't know," says Rupert. "She--she hasn't mentioned the
subject recently."

"Oh!" says I. "Too busy listenin' to the voice of the viper, eh?"

Rupert nods and stares sad into his empty demi-tasse. And, say, when
Rupert gets that way he's an appealin' cuss.

"See here, Rupert," says I; "if you got a call of that kind, would you
come to the front and make a noise like a real poet?"

"Why," says he, "I suppose I ought to. It would help the sale of the
book, and perhaps----"

"One alibi is enough," I breaks in. "Now, another thing: How'd you like
to have me stage-manage this debut of yours?"

"Oh, would you?" says he, beamin'.

"Providin' you'll follow directions," says I.

"Why, certainly," says Rupert. "Any suggestions that you may make----"

"Then we'll begin right now," says I. "You are to ditch that flossy
floor-walker outfit of yours from this on."

"You mean," says Rupert, "that I am not to wear these clothes?"

"Just that," says I. "When you get to givin' mornin' readin's at the
Plaza for the benefit of the Red Cross, you can dig 'em out again; but
for the Purple Pup you got to be costumed different. Who ever heard of a
goulash poet in a braid-bound cutaway and spats? Say, it's a wonder they
let you live south of the Arch."

"But--but what ought I to wear?" asks Rupert.

"Foolish question!" says I. "Who are you, anyway? Answer: the Sailor
Poet. There you are! Sea captain's togs for you--double-breasted blue
coat, baggy-kneed blue trousers, and a yachtin' cap."

"Very well," says Rupert. "But about my being asked to read. Just
how----"

"Leave it to me, Rupert," says I. "Leave everything to me."

Which was a lot simpler than tellin' him I didn't know.

You should have seen Vee's face when I tells her about Rupert's new
line.

"Captain Killam a p