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Updated: May 13, 2025
Farnsworth as Mrs. Bashford a not unnatural mistake and there was an embarrassing moment as I set him right. Having done this, I seated myself beside Mrs. Farnsworth that Torrence might be free to talk business with my aunt.
I snatched the receiver spitefully, thinking it only the methodical Torrence confirming the appointment made by telephone. But the operator began reading: "SPRINGFIELD, OHIO, September 30, 1917. "Cable from London agent says last forwarding address for Violet Dewing was hotel in Seattle.
"Couldn't stand the punishment any longer, eh?" asked Amy cheerfully. "Ah, poor, disgraced, downtrodden 'varsity! My heart bleeds for them, Clint! I could sit me down and weep " "You'll weep all right if you don't shut up!" declared Clint savagely. "And don't walk so fast. I've got a bum knee." Halfway to Torrence Amy stopped suddenly and clasped a hand to his forehead. "Woe is me!" he declaimed.
My respect for the woman's powers of persuasion was intensified by this disclosure. She had failed to wire Torrence as she promised or he had neglected to warn me of her coming; either way it was a pretty kettle of fish, and I shuddered at the thought of facing her wholly pardonable indignation.
When I suggested that I call for them she laughed gayly. "That would be telling things! And we mustn't spoil everything when everything is going so beautifully." Remembering the man I had locked up in the tool-house and the explanations I should have to make sooner or later to the unimaginative Torrence, I wasn't wholly convinced of the general beauty of the prospect.
She knew just what I meant to do; really she did, Mr. Torrence! In fact, I have her written permission to use the house, which I should have shown you if we had got in a pinch. But it seemed so much more fun just to let matters take their course. It's a pet theory of mine that life is a dull affair unless we trust to luck a little.
This person has been representing himself as a French secret agent; he's enormously plausible. I feared he might attempt what I failed to do. If " Alice glanced at me, and I stepped to the wall and punched the button. "Antoine," I said, "tie the arms of the prisoner in the tool-house and bring him here." "A man in the tool-house!" Montani, Torrence, and Raynor ejaculated in concert.
The editors went gunning for the fellow who sent in the sonnet, but they never found him." Clint laughed. "They didn't try 14 Torrence, then, did they?" he inquired. Amy smiled noncommittingly. "Your insinuation pains me," he murmured. "Why don't you deny it, then?" "It is quite unnecessary. Anyone knowing my blameless career " "Have you saved a copy of it?"
He knew that a Hall Master was an "H.M."; that he and one hundred and seventy-one other youths were, in common parlance, "Brims"; that a "Silk Sock" was a student of Claflin School, Brimfield's athletic rival; that Wendell Hall was "Wen"; Torrence, "T"; Hensey, "Hen" or "The Coop," and Billings, "Bill."
Professionally and socially he stood high, and even without the prestige of his official position he was not a chap to sneeze at; but I didn't want Torrence to know I had any doubts as to the perfect authenticity of my uncle's widow. "Oh, every transcontinental pilgrim is probably scrutinized closely these days," I remarked carelessly. "Mrs.
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