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XIX. Some Hoop-la for the Boss 323

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TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC.

CHAPTER I

THE UP CALL FOR TORCHY

Well, it's come! Uh-huh! And sudden, too, like I knew it would, if it
came at all. No climbin' the ladder for me, not while they run express
elevators. And, believe me, when the gate opened, I was right there with
my foot out.

It was like this: One mornin' I'm in my old place behind the brass rail,
at the jump-end of the buzzer. I'm everybody's slave in general, and
Piddie's football in particular. You know--head office boy of the
Corrugated Trust.

That's description enough, ain't it? And I'd been there so long----
Honest, when I first went on the job I used to sneak the city directory
under the chair so my toes could touch. Now my knees rub the under-side
of the desk. Familiar with the place? Say, there are just seventeen
floor cracks between me and the opposite wall; it's fifty-eight steps
through into Old Hickory's roll-top and back; and the ink I've poured
into all them desk-wells would be enough to float a ferry-boat.

At 8.30 on this special mornin' there I am, as I said; and at 2.21 P.M.
the same day I'm---- Well, of course, there was a few preliminaries,
though I didn't tag 'em as such when they come along. I expect the new
spring costume helped some. And the shave--oh, I was goin' it strong! No
cut-price, closing-out, House-of-Smartheimer bargain, altered free to
fit--not so, Lobelia! Why, I pawed over whole bales of stuff in a
sure-enough Fifth-ave. tailor works; had blueprint plans of the front
and side elevations drawn, even to the number of buttons on the cuffs,
and spent three diff'rent noon hours havin' it modeled on me before they
could pull a single bastin' thread.

But it's some stream line effect at the finish, take it from me! Nothing
sporty or cake-walky, you understand: just quiet and dignified and
rich-like, same as any second vice or gen'ral manager would wear.
Two-button sack with wide English roll and no turn-up to the
trousers--oh, I should ripple!

The shave was an afterthought. I'd worked up to it by havin' some of my
lurid locks trimmed, and as Giuseppe quits shearin' and asks if there'll
be anything else I rubs my hand casual across my jaw and remarks:

"Could you find anything there to mow with a razor?"

Could he? He'd go through the motions on a glass doorknob!

Then it'