United States or Sierra Leone ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Ellins called for a special report on outside holdings? And when it is submitted it is merely a jumble of figures. Why, the young man who prepared it couldn't have known the difference between a debenture 5 and a refunding 6!" "Don't make me shudder, Piddie," says I. "Who was the brainless wretch?" "Young Hollis, of course," whispers Piddie.
If I didn't, I'd be towin' a grouchy bunch of minority kickers in where the reorganization board was cookin' up a new stock-transfer game, or make some other fool break that would spill the beans all over the pantry floor. "Torchy," says Mr. Robert, chewin' his cigar nervous and pawin' through pigeonholes, "ask Mr. Piddie what was done with those Mesaba contracts."
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.
"You're a great little describer, Whitey," says I. "Simp is right. But next time you want to win front page space by losing a dramatist I'd advise you to lock him in a vault. Islands are too easy located." It was Mr. Piddie who first begun workin' up suspicions about Vincent, our fair haired super-office boy. But then, Piddie has that kind of a mind.
Why, just by the way the old boy pads in at 9:15, plantin' his hoofs heavy and glarin' straight ahead from under them bushy eye dormers of his, I could guess that someone was goin' to get a call on the carpet before very long. And sure enough he'd hardly got settled in his big leather swing chair before he starts barkin' for Mr. Piddie.
Piddie won't have it that way, though. "I think there's a woman in the case," says he, "and I'm sure it isn't his mother." "A woman; Vincent?" says I. "Ah, quit your kiddin', Piddie. I'd as soon think it of you." That brings the pink to his ears and he stiffens indignant.
He's mostly up and down, Piddie is, like he'd been pulled out of a bundle of laths, and he's got one of these inquisitive noses that's sharp enough to file bills on. Refined conversation is Piddie's strong hold. It bubbles out of him like steam out of the oatmeal kettle. Sounds that way, too.
Thought it was some sort of committee meeting." "Then that eliminates all but some member of the office staff," says Old Hickory. "Torchy, you acted as secretary. Do you remember that anyone came into the directors' room during our session?" "Not a soul," says I. "Except the boy Vincent," suggests Piddie. "Ah, he wasn't in," says I. "Only came to the door with some telegrams; I took 'em myself."
"I can't say what it is," says Piddie, "but there has been a change. Recently. Twice this week he has overstayed his luncheon hour. Yesterday he asked for his Liberty bond and war saving stamps from the safe. I believe he is planning to do something desperate." "Huh!" says I. "Most likely he's plotting to pay off the mortgage on the little bungalow as a birthday present for mother."
It gen'rally means that there's somethin' doin' in ponies or margins, and that next payday is goin' to seem a long ways off. If I'd been asked to give a guess, I should have put it as about two hundred bucks that Piddie had thrown into the market. Anyway, it wa'n't enough to knock the props out of call-money quotations; so I was lettin' Piddie do all the worryin'.
Word Of The Day