Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 23, 2025
I wants to know if Stiff Miller is still manager down at No. 11 branch, and who's wearin' the red stripe yet; while Hunch he puts over a few polite quizzes as to how I'm gettin' on with the Corrugated people. We hadn't been gassin' but five minutes or so, and there's ten more due on the clock before lunch hour is over, when I looks up to see our Mr. Piddie going by and givin' me the frown.
Did he give Piddie the fire on the spot? Nah! Mr. Robert carries around a frigid portico; but he's got a warm spot inside. He says he's mighty sorry to hear how near Piddie'd come to goin' wrong; but he's glad it turned out the way it did, and if Piddie'll say how much they rung him in for on Blitzen he'll be happy to make good right there. And how much do you guess? A pair of double X's!
Ellins I shall be back at 11:15 if this sector hasn't been captured in the meantime," and as he double-quicks out he near runs down Mr. Piddie, our rubber-stamp office manager, who has towed him in. As for me, I stands there swallowin' air bubbles until my red-haired disposition got below the boiling point once more. Then I turns to Piddie. "You heard, didn't you?" says I. Piddie nods.
"An amazingly careless golfer," he adds, "considering that the nearest course is in Englewood, N. J., fully six miles away. No, Mr. Piddie, I fear that even Jim Barnes at his best, relayed by Gil Nichols and Walter Hagen, couldn't have made that drive." "They they never use a a rifle for such purposes, do they?" asks Piddie. "Not in the best sporting circles," says Old Hickory.
"And it's not the first occasion, Torchy, on which he has been found failing. I am sending some of his books in for inspection." "Oh, well," says I, "better Brink than some of the others. He won't take it serious. He's like a duck in a shower sheds it easy." At which Piddie goes off shakin' his head ominous.
I knew what that meant. It's another call-down. He has plenty of time to work up his case; for I takes the limit and don't hang up my hat until the life-insurance chimes has done their one-o'clock stunt. And I'm hardly settled behind the brass gate before Piddie is down on me with the old mushy-mouthed reproof. "One is known," says he, "by the company one keeps."
Just then I hears a gurgle, like some one's bein' choked with a chicken bone, and I squints around behind. There was Piddie, lookin' like the buildin' was fallin' down and tryin' to uncork some remarks. "Ah, Piddie!" says the gent. "Perhaps you will introduce me to your new sentry and give me the password." Well, Piddie did. He almost got on his hands and knees doin' it.
Things went on that way for a couple of weeks, and I was forgettin' about it, when Piddie tells me one mornin' that Mildred's up and quit and nobody knows why. About an hour after that Mr. Robert sends for me. "Torchy," says he, "I'm tracing out a mystery, and as you seem to know about everything that's going on, I'm going to ask you to help me out."
The first thing I knows he comes over to me, his jaw set firmer'n I ever see it shut before, and a kind of shifty look in his eyes. He hands me a letter and a package. "Torchy," says he, "take these down to that address just as soon as you can. You've got to go quick. Understand?" "Fourth speed, advanced spark, that's me!" says I, grabbin' my hat and coat. "Free track for the Piddie special!
Naturally I makes a grab for it. "Don't!" gasps Piddie. "It it might be a bomb." "Yes," says I, "it might. But it looks to me more like a golf ball." "What?" says Old Hickory. "Golf ball! How could it be?" "I don't know, sir," says I, modest as usual. "Let's see," says he. I hands it over. He takes a glance at it and snorts out: "Impossible, but quite true. It is a golf ball. A Spalldop 31."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking