t Pepper!
"Ah, this way," says he. "Pardon me a moment, ladies, only a moment.
This way, young man." And almost before they know what has happened him
and me are behind the partition with the gate locked.

"Let's see," says he, lookin' me over kind of puzzled,
"it's--er--Torchy, isn't it?"

"There's the proof," says I, liftin' the cover off my danger signal.

"I might have known," says he, "that no one else could have put up so
good a bluff on the spur of the----"

"Now that's all right, Mr. Pepper," says I; "but the bluff won't hold
'em long. What you want to do is get busy and make a noise like
hundred-dollar bills. I don't know what the trouble is; but it looks
like the genuine goods to me."

"Diagnosis correct," says he. "I'm boxed. Now if they were only men, I
could----"

"Oh, sure!" says I. "But a bunch of nutty fluffs is diff'rent. They
never know what they want or why they want it. Say, ain't you got
another exit?"

Mr. Pepper shakes his head. "No, son," says he; "but don't you worry
about me. Your strategy thus far has been excellent; but I don't want
you to get mixed up in this mess. Skip, Torchy, while the skipping is
easy."

"Mr. Pepper," says I, "do I look like a quitter? I ain't forgot what you
did about givin' me them Glory Be stocks, either, and I'm goin' to hang
around here until this little private cyclone of yours blows over."

Mr. Pepper he looks at me a minute in that calm way of his, and then he
shrugs his shoulders. "All right," says he.

Then we listens to the buzz outside. Some was explainin' to others how a
bushel of money had just come in from the City National Bank, and some
was insistin' that it was just a north-pole fake. It's a free-for-all
debate with all rules in the discard. Then we hears one voice that's
louder than the others calling out for a committee.

"We must organize!" she says. "Let's organize for action!"

"Ah!" observes Mr. Pepper. "Now for feminine tactics! That looks
better."

A couple of minutes more and they've concluded to adjourn to the
corridor. When they're all out and I can hear 'em down at the further
end, I gives him the tip.

"Now's your chance!" says I. "Up one flight and you can get an express
elevator. I'll show you."

Mr. Pepper don't like the idea, though, of doin' the gumshoe sneak. He
hates to run away from any kind of a fight, specially a lot of women. He
don't run, either; but after awhile he consents to walk out, and we
strolls towar