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Updated: May 20, 2025
And after a four weeks' whirl at the second officers' training camp he squeezed through, coming out as a near lieutenant. Old Hickory Ellins gasped some when Hartley showed up with the bar on his shoulders, but he gave him the husky grip and notified him that his leave was extended for the duration of the war with half pay.
Matt broke in on Old Hickory and gave him an earful about his latest discovery in the golf line. I'd heard part of it, too, while I was stickin' around waitin' to edge in with some papers for Mr. Ellins to sign. Now what was the big argument? Say, I'll be driven to take up this Hoot-Mon pastime myself some of these days. Got to if I want to keep in the swim.
"Almost an unblemished career," says Mr. Robert. "What about your successor, Vincent?" "Oh, he's doing fairly well," says I. "Gets stung now and then. Like last week when that flossy blonde with the Southern accent had him buffaloed with a tale about having met dear Mr. Ellins at French Lick and wantin' to show him something she knew he'd be just crazy about. She did, too.
Ellins keeps right on goin' through his mail and makin' notes on the envelops until six o'clock, when a big gong rings. "Thank heaven! Dinner!" says he. "Come on, Torchy; I'm hungry enough to eat a bale of hay!" Then he's hardly got into his chair in the dinin' room before he's snapping his fingers for a waiter. "Hey!" he sings out.
"Hum!" says Old Hickory, rubbin' his chin. "A case of mistaken identity, eh? Officer, you know me, I suppose?" "Yes, Mr. Ellins," says the special, jerkin' off his cap, "oh, yes, sir." "Then drive these deluded women downstairs and tell them their mistake," says Old Hickory. "Come, Mr. Pepper. Come, Torchy. In with you!"
But you understand, Torchy, I am asking this information of you as my private secretary. I er it will be treated as confidential." "Sorry, Mr. Ellins," says I, "but you know about as much of it as I do." "Which is quite enough," says he, "for me to decide that the Corrugated can dispense with the services of this Hollis person at once. You will notify Mr. Piddie to that effect."
"Sorry, major," says I, "but Mr. Ellins won't be in until 10:30." "Hah!" says he, like bitin' off a piece of glass. "And who are you, lieutenant!" "Special detail from the Ordnance Department, sir," says I. "Oh, you are, eh?" he snorts. "Another bomb-proofer! Well, tell Mr.
His last play of hidin' his head when the Agnes had been held up by a gunboat had got 'most everybody aboard lookin' squint-eyed at him. Even Mrs. Mumford had crossed him off her hero list. Just what his final fluke was I'm only givin' a guess at, but I judge that when Mr. Ellins called on him to point out the pirate hoard, now we were right on the ground, Rupert begun stallin' him off.
"Well, that ain't surprisin', is it, Piddie?" says I. "You don't suppose we can talk over big affairs like ours out here, do you? Keep your ear off the keyhole, too!" And with that I goes in chipper and cheerful. The minute I gets through the last door, though, I feels the frost in the air. Mr. Ellins, he lets me wait long enough for the chill to strike in, while he signs a basketful of letters.
As a matter of fact, we are going after hidden treasure pirate gold, buried jewels, all that sort of thing." "O-o-o-oh!" coos Mrs. Mumford. "Doesn't that sound deliciously romantic?" "Quixotic if you will," says Mr. Ellins. "But Mrs. Hemmingway and myself, although we may not look it, are just that kind. We are desperate characters, if the truth must be told.
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