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Updated: June 23, 2025
I'm behind the brass rail, next to the spring water. When you have the front to push through the plate glass, you see me first. If I likes your looks, and your card reads right, maybe I gives you a peek at Mr. Piddie. Anyone that gets past Piddie's a bird. He's the Inside Brother, Keeper of the Seal, Watch on the Rhine, and a lot more.
And as he sinks limp into a chair he glances appealin' at Mr. Robert, no doubt expectin' to be decorated on the spot. "By George!" says Mr. Robert. "Good work! But you haven't heard of my great luck meantime. Listen, Piddie. I am to be married!" I thought Piddie would croak. "Think of that, gentlemen," cuts in old Busbee sarcastic. "He is to be married!"
"And kindly refrain," he tacks on at the last, "from stopping to talk with any suspicious characters on the way." "Say, Piddie," says I, "if I was you I'd have that printed on a card. Some day you're going to forget to rub that in."
"Piddie," says I, "I don't want to hurt your feelin's, but you act to me like a weak sister. If I was to do what the case calls for, this thing ought to go to the boss." "Please don't, Torchy! Please don't!" says he, scrabblin' down on his hands and knees. "Nix on that!" says I. "This is no carpet-layin' bee. I'm no squealer, anyway; besides, I had a little interview with Mrs.
Now see they get back where you found 'em!" Talk about your hallelujah praise meetin's! Piddie was havin' one, all by himself when the inside door opens and Mr. Roberts steps out of his office. "I'll take care of those bonds, Mr. Piddie," says he. Chee! what a stunner! Mr. Robert had been in there all the time, writin' private letters, and had took in the whole business.
And how did you find Florida?" "Easy," says I. "We looked it up on the map." "No, no," says Piddie; "I mean, how was the weather down there?" "No weather at all," says I. "They just have climate. How are things around the shop, though?" "Very satisfactory," says Piddie, rubbin' his hands. "Bound to be," says I, "with you and Mr. Robert sittin' on the lid."
He runs us over without losin' step, sticks out a finger as he goes by, and says over his shoulder, "Piddie, take that one!" Me, I was in range. Piddie made a bluff at goin' on with the third degree business; but the other entries begins to edge for the door. I was the one best bet; so what was the use? See what it is to have a thirty-two candle power thatch?
Old Lawson T. Ryder, the one with the bushy white eyebrows and the heavy dewlaps, he puffs out his cheeks and works that under jaw of his menacin'. "Really!" says he. "But what about the Balboa? Eh?" "Oh!" says Mr. Robert casual. "The Balboa? Yes, yes! Didn't I tell someone to attend to that? A charter, wasn't it? Torchy, were you " I shakes my head. "Perhaps it was Mr. Piddie, then," says he.
That get-up would be good for a quiet smile even over in Canarsie; but when you come to plant it in the midst of such a sporty aggregation as the Corrugated carries on the payroll why, you've got the comic chuckles comin' over fast. "Say, Piddie," says I the second morning, after watchin' it blow in, "who's the seed, eh?" "That?" says Piddie. "Oh, that's old Dudley."
"Hold on," says I. "Maybe he's left a note or something for you." See what it is to have a little wad stowed away in the southwest corner of your jeans? I slips through into the main office, gets one of the typewriter girls to address an envelope to Mrs. Piddie, jams a sawbuck into it, and comes out smilin'.
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