brass gate for him.
"Is it a special holiday, or what?"

"It's a very special one," says he, thumpin' me on the back and
whisperin' husky in my ear. "Torchy, I'm married!"

"Wha-a-at!" I splutters. "Who to? When?"

"To Sis," says he, "half an hour ago."

"Eh?" says I. "Mean to say you've been and eloped with the Senator's
daughter?"

"Eloped!" says he, as though he'd never heard the word before. "Why,
no--er--that is, we just went out and--and----"

Oh, no, they hadn't eloped! They'd merely slid out of the ballroom about
three A.M., after dancin' seventeen waltzes together, snuggled into a
hansom cab, and rode around the park until daylight talkin' it over.
Then she'd slipped back into the house, got into her travelin' dress
while he was off changin' his clothes, met again at eight o'clock,
chased down to City Hall after a license, and then dragged a young
rector away from his boiled eggs and toast to splice 'em.

But Skid didn't call that elopin'. Why, Sis had left word with the
butler to tell her friends all about it, and the first thing they did
after it was over was to send a forty-word collect telegram to papa.
And Mallory, he'd just dropped around to arrange with Old Hickory for a
little vacation before they beat it for Atlantic City.

"So that ain't elopin', eh?" says I. "I expect you'd call that a
sixty-yard run on a forward pass, or something like that? Well, the old
man's inside. Luck to you."

Mallory wa'n't on the carpet long, and when he comes out I asks how he
made back.

"Oh, bully!" says he. "I'm to have ten days."

"With or without?" says I.

"Oh, I forgot to ask," says he.

Little things like bein' on the payroll or not wa'n't botherin' him
then. He gives me a bone crushin' grip and swings out to the elevator in
a rush; for he's been away from Sis nearly half an hour now.

Exceptin' a picture postcard or two, showin' the iron pier and a bathin'
scene, I didn't hear from Mr. and Mrs. Mallory for more'n a week. And
then one afternoon I gets a 'phone message from Skid, saying that
they're all settled in a little flat up on Washington Heights and
they'll be pleased to have me come up to dinner.

"It's our very first dinner, you know," says he, "and Sis is going to
get it all by herself. I suggested that we try the first one on you."

"That don't scare me any," says I. "I've lived on sinkers and pie too
long to duck amateur cookin'. I'll be there."

I was on the grin all the afternoon