lanned to go--to the
Newport evolutions?"

"Sure thing," says I. I'd heard of their havin' all kinds of fool doin's
at Newport, but evolutions wa'n't one of 'em. The bluff had to be made
good, though.

The lady pushes up her mosquito nettin' drop, like she wanted to see if
I was unwindin' the string ball or not, and then for a minute she taps
her chin with them foldin' eyeglasses. I wanted to sing out to her that
she'd dent the enamel if she didn't quit bein' so careless, but I held
in. Say, what's the use eatin' carrots and takin' buttermilk baths, when
you can have a mercerized complexion like that laid on at the shop?

All of a sudden she flashes up a little silver case, and pushes out a
visitin' card.

"There's my name and address," says she. "If you should change your mind
about using The Toreador, you may telephone me; and I hope you will."

"Oh!" says I, spellin' out the old English letters. "I've heard Pinckney
speak of you. Well, say, seein' as you're so anxious, I'll tell you
what I'll do; I'll just put you down for an in-vite. How does that hit
you?"

I had an idea she might blow up, at that. But say, there was nothin' of
the kind.

"Why," says she, "I'm not sure but that would be quite a novelty. Yes,
you may count on me. Good day," and she was gone without so much as a
"thank you kindly."

When I came to, and had sized the thing all up, it looked like I'd got
in over my head. I was due to stand for some kind of a racket, but
whether it was a picnic, or a surprise party, I didn't know. What I
wanted just then was information, and for certain kinds of knowledge
there's nobody like Pinckney.

I was dead lucky to locate him, too; but I took a chance on his bein' in
town, so I found him at his special corner table in the palm room, just
lookin' a dry Martini in the face.

"Hello, Shorty!" says he. "Haven't lunched yet, have you? Join me."

"I will," says I, "if you'll answer me two questions. First off, what is
it that Mr. Ogden owns that he calls The Toreador?"

"Why," says Pinckney, "that's his steam yacht."

"Steam yacht!" says I, gettin' a good grip on the chair, to keep from
falling out. "And me dead sure it was a bunch of six-room-and-baths!
Oh, well, let that pass. What's done is done. Now what's this evolution
stunt they're pullin' off up at Newport next week?"

"The naval evolutions, of course," says Pinckney. "You should read the
newspapers, Shorty."

"I do," says I, "but I didn't s