" I goes on. "All them shadows. How
do you know what's behind 'em? And so many queer noises. There! Listen
to that!"

"Silly!" says she. "That's a tree-toad. I hope you aren't afraid of
that."

"Not if he's a tame one," says I. "But how can you tell he ain't wild?
And there comes a whirry-buzzin' noise."

"Yes," says she. "A motor coming down the macadam. There, it's turned
into our road! Perhaps someone coming to see us, Goosie."

Sure enough, it was. A minute later Mr. and Mrs. Robert Ellins were
givin' us the hail out front. It seems they'd come to pick us up to make
a call with them on some new neighbors.

"Who?" asks Vee.

"You couldn't guess," says Mrs. Robert. "The Zoscos."

"Really!" says Vee. "I thought they were----"

"Yes," chimes in Mrs. Robert, "I suppose they are, too. Rather
impossible. But I simply must try that big pipe organ I hear they've put
in. Bob thinks it's an awful thing to do. See how shocked he looks. But
I've promised not to stay more than half an hour if the movie magnate is
in anything more startling than a placid after-dinner state, or if the
place is cluttered up with too many screen favorites. And I think Bob
wants Torchy to go along as bodyguard. So won't you both come? What do
you say?"

Trust Vee for takin' a dare. She'll try anything once. I expect she'd
been some curious all along to see what this new Mrs. Zosco looked
like. "What was it you said she used to be called, Torchy?" she demands.

"'Myrtle Mapes, the Girl With the Million Dollar Smile,' was the way she
was billed," says I. "But them press agents don't care what they say
half the time. And maybe she only smiles that way when the camera's set
for a close-up."

"I don't care," says Vee. "I think it would be great fun to go."

As for me, I didn't mind, one way or the other. I'd seen this Andres
Zosco party plenty of times, ridin' back and forth on the train. He'd
even offered to pick me up in his limousine and give me a lift once when
I was hikin' up from the station. And I must say he wasn't just my idea
of a plute movie producer.

Nothin' imposin' about Mr. Zosco. Hardly. Kind of a dumpy, short-legged
party, with a round smooth face, sort of mild brown eyes, and his hair
worn in a skinned diamond effect. You'd never take him for a guy who'd
go out and buy a Hudson River steamer and blow it up just for the sake
of gettin' a thousand feet of film, or put on a mob scene with enough
people to fill Times Square