Biltmore Oswald Read online

you that liniment to rub on your stomach when you havecramps?" she went on ruggedly.

  "Enough to last through the Fall season," I replied in a moody voice.I didn't tell her that Tim the barkeep had tried to drink it.

  "Polly!" suddenly exclaimed Mother. "Polly! Why, I forgot to tell youthat she said that she would be up this afternoon. She must be herenow."

  The world swam around me. Polly was my favorite sweetie.

  "Oh, Mother!" I cried reproachfully, "how could you have forgotten?"

  At that moment I heard a familiar voice issuing from the corner, andturning around, I caught sight of the staff reporter of the camppaper, a notoriously unscrupulous sailor with predatory proclivities.He had gotten Polly in a corner and was chinning the ear off of her.As I drew near I heard him saying:

  "Really it's an awful pity, but I distinctly remember him saying thathe was going away on liberty to-day. He mentioned some girl's name,but it didn't sound anything at all like yours."

  Polly looked at him trustfully.

  "Are you sure, Mr.----"

  "Savanrola," the lying wretch supplied without turning a hair.

  "Are you sure, Mr. Savanrola, that he has left the station?"

  "Saw him check out with my own eyes," he said calmly.

  I moved nearer, my hands twitching.

  "Now with an honest old seafaring man like myself," he continued, in aconfidential voice, "it's different. Why, if I should wear all thehash marks I rate I'd look like a zebra. So I just don't wear any. Youknow how it is. But when I like a girl I stick to her. Now from thevery first moment I laid eyes on you--"

  Human endurance could stand no more. I threw myself between them.

  "Why, here's Oswald hisself," exclaimed the reporter with masterfullyfeigned surprise. "However did you get back so soon?"

  "I have never been away anywhere to get back from, and you know it," Ireplied coldly.

  "Strange!" he said, "I could have sworn that I saw you checking out.Can I get you some ice cream?" he added smoothly.

  "What on?" I replied bitterly, knowing him always to be broke.

  "Your mother must have--"

  "Come," said I to Polly, "leave this degraded creature to ply hispernicious trade alone. I have some very important words to say toyou."

  "Good-by, Mr. Savanrola," said Polly.

  "Until we meet again," answered the reporter, with the utmostconfidence.

  _Aug. 12th._ It's all arranged. Those words I had to say to Polly werenot spoken in vain. She has promised to be my permanent sweetie. Ofcourse, I have had a number of transit sweeties in the past, but nowI'm going to settle down to one steady, day in and day out sweetie. Itold Tim, the barkeep, about it last night and all he said was:

  "What about all those parties we'd planned to have after we were paidoff?"

  This sort of set me back for the moment. The spell of Polly's eyes hadmade me forget all about Tim.

  "Well, Tim," I replied, "I'll have to think about that. Come on overto the canteen and I'll feed you some of those honest, upstandingsandwiches they have over there."

  "Say," says Tim, the carnal beast, forgetting everything at theprospect of food, "I feel as if I could cover a flock of them withouttrying."

  So together Tim and I had a bachelor's dinner over the sandwiches,which were worthy of that auspicious occasion.

  _Aug. 17th._ We were standing on a street corner of a neighboringtown. The party consisted of Tim the barkeep, the "Spider," anindividual who modestly acknowledged credit for having brought reliefto several over-crowded safes in the good old civilian days; Tony, whodelivered ice in my district also in those aforementioned days, andmyself. These gentlemen for some time had been allowing me to exist inpeace, and I had been showing my gratitude by buying them whateverlittle dainties they desired, but such a comfortable state of affairscould not long continue with that bunch. Suddenly, without anyprevious consultation, as if drawn together as it were by somefiendish undercurrent, they decided to make me unhappy--me, the onlyguy that spoke unbroken English in the crowd. This is the way theyaccomplished their low ends. When the next civilian came along theyall of them shouted at me in tones that could be heard by allpassers-by:

  "Here comes a 'ciwilian,' buddy; he'll give you a quarter."

  "Do you need some money, my boy?" said the old gentleman to me in akindly voice.

  "No, sir," I stammered, getting red all over, "thank you very much,but I really don't need any money."

  Ironical laughter from my friends in the background.

  "Oh, no," cries Tim sarcastically, "he don't need no money. Just watchhim when he sees the color of it."

  "Don't hesitate, my son," continued the kind old man, "if you needanything I would be glad to help you out."

  "No, sir," I replied, turning away to hide my mortification,"everything is all right."

  "Poor but proud," hisses the "Spider." The old gentleman passed on,sorely perplexed.

  For some time I was a victim of this crude plot. When I tried to moveaway they followed me around the streets, crying after me:

  "Any 'ciwilian' will give you a quarter. Go on an' ask them."

  Several ladies stopped and asked if they could be of any service tome. I assured them that they couldn't, but all the time these lowsailors whom I had been feeding lavishly kept jeering and intimatingthat I was fooling and would take any amount of money offered me froma dime up. This shower of conflicting statements always left thekindhearted people in a confused frame of mind and broke me upcompletely. I had to chase one man all the way down the street andhand him back the quarter he had thrust into my hand. My friends neverforgave me for this.

  At length, tiring of their sport, they desisted and stood gloomily onthe curb as sailors do, looking idly at nothing.

  "It don't look like we was ever going to get a hitch," said the"Spider," after we had abandonedly offered ourselves to severalautomobiles.

  At that moment a huge machine rolled heavily by.

  "There goes a piece of junk," said Tim. The lady in the machine musthave heard him, for the car came to and she motioned for us to get in.

  "Going our way?" she asked, smiling at us.

  "Thanks, lady," replies Tim, elbowing me aside as he climbed aboard.

  "Dust your feet," I whispered to Tony as he was about to climb in.

  "Whatta you mean, dusta my feet?" shouted Tony wrathfully, "you gohead an' dusta your feet! I look out for my feet all right."

  "What did he want yer to do, Tony?" asked Tim in a loud voice.

  "Dusta my feet," answered Tony, greatly injured.

  "What yer doin', Oswald?" asks Tim sarcastically, "tryin' to drag usup?"

  "I only spoke for the best," I answered, sick at heart.

  "Ha! ha!" grated Tim, "guess you think we ain't never rode in one ofthese wealthy wagons before."

  "Arn't you rather young?" asked the lady soothingly of the "Spider,"who by virtue of his mechanical experience in civil life had beengiven a first class rating, "Arn't you rather young to have so manythings on your arm?"

  "Yes," answered the "Spider" promptly, "but I kin do a lot of tricks."

  The conversation languished from this point.

  "We always take our boys to dinner, don't we, dear?" said the lady toher husband a little later.

  "Yes, dear," he answered meekly, just like that.

  Expectant silence from the four of us.

  "Have you boys had dinner?" the lady asked.

  "Certainly not," we cried, with an earnestness that gave the lie toour statement, "no dinner!"

  "None at all," added Tim thoughtfully.

  The automobile drew up at a 14k. plate-glass house that fairly madethe "Spider" itch.

  "Gosh," he whispered to me, looking at the porch, "that wouldn't behard for me."

  During the dinner he kept sort of lifting and weighing the silver andthen looking at me and winking in an obvious manner.

  "Not many people here to-night," said Tony from behind his plate.

  "
Why, there is the usual number," said the husband in surprise, "mywife and myself live alone."

  "Oh," said Tony, looking around at the tremendous dining hall, "Ithought this was a restaurant."

  "'OH,' SAID TONY, 'I THOUGHT THIS WAS A RESTAURANT'"]

  Tim started laughing then, and he hasn't stopped yet. He's so proud hedidn't make the mistake himself.

  The