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Skippy went and took a full five minutes until he had made quite sure the next dance was under way. To his horror Dolly was where he had left her--sitting alone.
When the tenth dance had begun, he hesitated no longer. He replaced the two dollar bill by one of the next denomination, and with the V carefully exposed, he managed to b.u.mp into Hickey and draw his attention to the price of his liberty. Hickey appeared interested but only half convinced. Skippy held out another dance and then, groaning inwardly, increased the bait to ten.
Whereupon Hickey condescended. The signal was given and Skippy, standing aloof and humble in the shadows of the veranda, perceived through the window Miss Dolly Travers, as the stags swarmed down, resume her sway as the queen of the ball.
On Monday Hickey departed in a burst of glory. With him something else departed--a great romance. Illusions are fragile things and when they are shattered the pieces are too small to be rea.s.sembled. _Sic transit_ Dolly Travers!
CHAPTER XXIX
DEAD GAME SPORTS
AT the end of August, Mr. Skippy Bedelle met Mr. Snorky Green on the Fall River Boat, each being in complete agreement as to the economic superiority of the water route to the great metropolis, when the end in view was the acquisition of that radiant apotheosis of perfect manhood, the first dress suit.
"Gee Whilikins, Skippy, you're enormous," said Snorky, measuring him with his eye. "How did you do it? I've only gained half an inch."
"I'm twelve pounds heavier," said Skippy proudly. "Feel that."
"Hard as nails!" said Snorky, pinching the proffered biceps. "You do look different, too."
Skippy, thinking on Dolly Travers, blushed.
"Got to shave every other day now," he said hastily, to cover his confusion.
"Have a coffin nail?" said Snorky, feeling that a bold stroke was necessary to restore the balance.
"Dyin' for one," said Skippy, who disliked the practice cordially. He selected a cigarette, tapped it on his hand and rolled the rim on the tip of his tongue. "Not bad."
"Nice bouquet, eh?" said Snorky, who had listened in.
"What? You betcha! What's the monogram?"
"Uncle Ben. I swiped them," said Snorky, who was returning from a family visit. "Suppose we give the old tub the once over and see if there's anything worth looking at on board."
Skippy allowed the cigarette to hang pendant from his lower lip, tilted his Panama with the purple and white band, sank his hands in his pockets and imitated carefully the dead game sporting slouch of his companion as they proceeded on their critical inspection of the feminine offering on the decks.
"Rum bunch," said Snorky, who was putting it on for Skippy. "Little girl over there got nice eyes."
"Piano legs."
"What?"
"Piano legs. Big as a porpoise in five years," said Skippy, putting it on for Snorky.
"I daresay," said Snorky, who continued his efforts to impress his chum by staring down a large buxom lady who happened to glance their way.
"Rather good-looking, the old fighting brunette over there."
"Seemed interested in you."
"Yes, rather," said Snorky, turning for a fatuous backward glance.
"What's this?" said Skippy, suddenly interested.
Ahead by the rail two young girls were watching curiously the vanis.h.i.+ng outlines of the harbor.
"That's cla.s.s," said Snorky instantly.
"You betcha!" said Skippy, noting the large leghorn hats dripping with rosebuds, the trim ruffled organdie dresses and the twin parasols, pink and mauve. The young ladies looked up curiously at their swaggering approach and then away. Skippy in his a.s.siduous pursuit of fiction of the romantic tinge had often read of "velvety" eyes and pondered incredulously. For the first time in his life, suddenly, in the hazards of a crowded steamer, a young girl of irreproachable manners had looked at him and the eyes were undeniably "velvety." It troubled him. Not that he was susceptible to such a point, but it stirred memories of ancient readings into the night on soft window seats, or under green trees in the troubling warmth of spring days.
"The blonde for mine," said Snorky pompously.
"I didn't see her," said Skippy dreamily.
They linked arms and pa.s.sed in the rakish, indolent manner of thorough men of the world who know that but to be seen is to conquer. To their discomfiture the young ladies failed to notice the extreme distinction of their manly appearance and shortly afterward left the deck.
"We failed to impress," said Skippy disconsolately.
"A lot you know about women."
"They never saw us."
"Huh! Betcha they were sneaking looks at us every time we pa.s.sed. Just you wait. They'll be out in a jiffy."
"What'll we do?"
"Pretend we're not interested."
They stalked the deck ten times with a nonchalant, bored air, but slightly roving eyes.
"They're waiting inside," said Snorky obstinately.
"Well, you go and scout. I'll wait here," said Skippy, whose interest was only a determination not to be outshone by his chum of chums.
In ten minutes Snorky was back, all excitement.
"Just as I told you. They're in the front saloon playing cards. Come on."
"What are you going to do?" said Skippy, hesitating.
Snorky thought a moment.
"We've got to put over something big."
"Well, what?"
Snorky thought again.