Torchy, Private Sec.   By: Sewell Ford (1868-1946)

TORCHY TRYING OUT TORCHY ON WITH TORCHY TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC. ODD NUMBERS "Shorty McCabe" SHORTY McCABE ON THE JOB

[Illustration: "Why didn't you tell me before that you had such a grand name?" Frontispiece]

TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC.

BY SEWELL FORD

AUTHOR OF TORCHY, TRYING OUT TORCHY, ON WITH TORCHY, ETC.

ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. FOSTER LINCOLN

NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS

COPYRIGHT, 1914, 1915, BY SEWELL FORD

COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY EDWARD J. CLODE

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. The Up Call for Torchy 1 II. Torchy Makes the Sir Class 19 III. Torchy Takes a Chance 37 IV. Breaking It to the Boss 56 V. Showing Gilkey the Way 75 VI. When Skeet Had His Day 95 VII. Getting a Jolt from Westy 113 VIII. Some Guesses on Ruby 129 IX. Torchy Gets an Inside Tip 148 X. Then Along Came Sukey 170 XI. Teamwork with Aunty 188 XII. Zenobia Digs Up a Late One 206 XIII. Sifting Out Uncle Bill 223 XIV. How Aunty Got the News 243 XV. Mr. Robert and a Certain Party 259 XVI. Torchy Tackles a Short Circuit 275 XVII. Mr. Robert Gets a Slant 290 XVIII. When Ella May Came By 306 XIX. Some Hoop la for the Boss 323

TORCHY, PRIVATE SEC.

CHAPTER I

THE UP CALL FOR TORCHY

Well, it's come! Uh huh! And sudden, too, like I knew it would, if it came at all. No climbin' the ladder for me, not while they run express elevators. And, believe me, when the gate opened, I was right there with my foot out.

It was like this: One mornin' I'm in my old place behind the brass rail, at the jump end of the buzzer. I'm everybody's slave in general, and Piddie's football in particular. You know head office boy of the Corrugated Trust.

That's description enough, ain't it? And I'd been there so long Honest, when I first went on the job I used to sneak the city directory under the chair so my toes could touch. Now my knees rub the under side of the desk. Familiar with the place? Say, there are just seventeen floor cracks between me and the opposite wall; it's fifty eight steps through into Old Hickory's roll top and back; and the ink I've poured into all them desk wells would be enough to float a ferry boat.

At 8.30 on this special mornin' there I am, as I said; and at 2.21 P.M. the same day I'm Well, of course, there was a few preliminaries, though I didn't tag 'em as such when they come along. I expect the new spring costume helped some. And the shave oh, I was goin' it strong! No cut price, closing out, House of Smartheimer bargain, altered free to fit not so, Lobelia! Why, I pawed over whole bales of stuff in a sure enough Fifth ave. tailor works; had blueprint plans of the front and side elevations drawn, even to the number of buttons on the cuffs, and spent three diff'rent noon hours havin' it modeled on me before they could pull a single bastin' thread.

But it's some stream line effect at the finish, take it from me! Nothing sporty or cake walky, you understand: just quiet and dignified and rich like, same as any second vice or gen'ral manager would wear. Two button sack with wide English roll and no turn up to the trousers oh, I should ripple!

The shave was an afterthought. I'd worked up to it by havin' some of my lurid locks trimmed, and as Giuseppe quits shearin' and asks if there'll be anything else I rubs my hand casual across my jaw and remarks:

"Could you find anything there to mow with a razor?"

Could he? He'd go through the motions on a glass doorknob!