Torchy, Private Sec. | Page 5

I'm strong for you and Mr.
Ellins. I expect you know that, Mr. Robert. Maybe I ain't got it in me to
be anything but an office boy, either; but when it comes to goin' on
exhibition before certain parties as the double cipher on the east side of
the decimal--well, that's where I make my foolish play."
"Ah!" says he, rubbin' his chin thoughtful. "Now I fully understand.
And, as you suggest, there has been for some time past
something--er--equivocal about your position here. However, just at

this moment I have hardly time to---- By Jove!" Here he breaks off and
glances at the clock. "Two-fifteen, and a general council of our
attorneys called for half-past in the directors' room! Someone else must
attend to Miss Verona's estimable aunt--positively! Now if there was
anyone who could relieve you from the gate----"
"Heiny, the bondroom boy," says I.
"Why not?" says Mr. Robert. "Then, if you should choose to stay and
prime yourself with facts about those debentures, there is that extra
desk in my office, you know. Would you mind using that?"
"But see here, Mr. Robert," says I, "I wa'n't plannin' any masquerade,
either."
"Quite so," says he; "nor I. It so happens, though, that the gentleman
whose name appears as president of our Mutual Funding Company
is--well, hardly in active business life. It is necessary that he be
represented here in some nominal capacity. The directors are now
meeting in Room 19. I have authority to name a private secretary pro
tem. Do you accept the position?"
"With a pro-tem. salary, stage money barred?" says I.
"Oh, most certainly," says he.
"Then I'm the guy," says I.
"Good!" says Mr. Robert. "These debentures come in your department.
I will notify Mr. Piddie that----"
"Say, Mr. Robert," says I, grinnin' once more, "I'd break it gentle to
Piddie."
I don't know whether he did or not; for five minutes after that Heiny
has my old seat, and I'm inside behind the ground-glass door, sittin' at a
reg'lar roll-top, with a lot of file cases spread out, puzzlin' over this
incorporation junk that makes the Fundin' Comp'ny the little joker in

the Corrugated deck.
And next thing I know in comes Heiny, gawpin' foolish, and trailin'
behind him Aunty and Vee. I wa'n't throwin' any bluff about tryin' to
look busy, either. I was elbow-deep in papers, with a pen behind one
ear and ink on three fingers.
You should have heard the gasp that comes from Aunty as she pipes off
who it is at the desk. My surprise as I'm discovered is the real thing too.
"Chairs, Boy!" says I, snappin' my fingers at Heiny.
But Aunty catches her breath, draws herself up stiff, and waves away
the seats. "Young man," says she, "I came here to consult with Mr.
Robert Ellins about----"
"Yes'm," says I, "I understand. Debenture six's, ain't they? Not affected
by the reorganization, Ma'am. You see, it's like this: Those bonds were
issued in exchange for----"
"Young man," she breaks in, aimin' her lorgnette at me threatenin', "I
prefer to discuss this matter with Mr. Robert."
"Sorry," says I, "but as he's very busy he asked me to----"
"And who, pray," snaps the old girl, "are you?"
"Representin' the president of the Mutual Funding Comp'ny," says I.
"Just how?" she demands.
"Private secretary, Ma'am," says I.
"Humph!" she snorts. "This is too absurd of Mr. Robert--wholly absurd!
Come, Verona."
And as she sails out I just has time for a glance at Vee, and catches a
wink. Believe me, though, a friendly wink from one of them gray eyes
is worth waitin' for! She follows Aunty through the door with a

handkerchief stuffed in her mouth like she was smotherin' a snicker; so
I guess Vee was on. And I'm left feelin' all warmed up and chirky.
Mr. Robert comes in from his lawyer session just before closin' time;
rubbin' his hands sort of satisfied too.
"Well," says I, jumpin' up from the swing-chair, "it was some jolt you
slipped Aunty. I expect I can resign now?"
"Oh, I trust not," says he. "The board indorsed your appointment an
hour ago. Keep your desk, Torchy. It is to be yours from now on."
"Wh-a-a-at?" says I, my eyes bugged. "Off the gate for good, am I?"
"We are hoping," says he, "that the gate's loss will be the Funding
Company's gain."
I gurgles gaspy a couple of times before I catches my breath. "Will it?"
says I. "Say, just watch me! I'm goin' to show you that fundin' is my
long suit!"
CHAPTER II
TORCHY MAKES THE SIR CLASS
Say, it's all right, gettin' the quick boost up the ladder, providin' you
don't let it make you dizzy in the head. And, believe me, I was