ys he winkin'. "That's
too bad, ain't it? But there's lots of others. She keeps 'em all
guessin'. Hard in the heart, Mirabelle has been, ever since she got
thrown overboard herself."

"Eh?" says I. "When was that? Who did it?"

"Oh, near a year now," says Marcus. "You know the feller who was in with
me here--Chuck Dempsey?"

"The big husk with the bushy black eyebrows?" says I.

Marcus nods. "He had Mirabelle goin' all right," says he. "She was crazy
over him. And Chuck, he was pretty strong for her, too. They had it all
fixed up, the flat picked out and all, when something or other bust it
up. I dunno what. Chuck, he quits the next day. Lucky thing, too, for if
he'd stuck here he wouldn't have met up with them automobile sundries
people and landed his new job. I hear he's manager of their Harlem
branch now, seventy-five a week. Wouldn't Mirabelle be sore if she knew
about that, eh?"

"She'd have cause for grindin' her teeth," says I. "Bully for Chuck,
though. I must call him up and give him the hail. What's his number?"

I will admit too, that once I got started, I worked fast. It took me
less'n three minutes to pump out of Vincent the time and place of this
fatal little dinner party he was about to pull off, and shortly after
that I had Mr. Dempsey on the wire. Yes, he says he remembers me well
enough, on account of my hair. Most of 'em do.

"It's a shame you've forgot someone else so quick, though," I adds.

"Who's that?" says he.

"Mirabelle," says I.

"Oh, I don't know," says Chuck. "Maybe it's just as well."

"She don't think so," says I.

"Who was feedin' you that?" asks Dempsey.

"A certain party," says I. "But you know how easy a queen like her can
pick up an understudy. Some have been mighty busy lately, too; one in
particular. And I don't mind sayin' I'd hate to see him win out."

"Yes, she's some girl, all right," says Chuck, "even if I did get a
little sore on her one night. I might be droppin' around again some of
these days."

"If I was you," says I, "I'd make it snappy. In fact, not later than
6:30 this evening. That is, unless you're content to figure as an also
ran."

He's an enterprisin' young gent, Mr. Dempsey. And it seems he ain't
closed the book on Mirabelle for good. He's rather interested in hearin'
where she'll be waitin' at that hour and makes a note of it.

"Much obliged for the tip, Torchy," says he. "I'll think it over."

I hoped he would. It was the best I could do f