Yollop | Page 4

the hook and--"
"Oh, I know how to use a telephone all right."
"Now, the main thing is to get Central," said Mr. Yollop imperturbably.
"Sometimes it is very difficult to wake them after two o'clock A.M.
Just jiggle it if she doesn't respond at once. Seems that jiggling wakes
them when nothing else will."
Mr. Yollop, very tall and spare in his pajamas, stood behind the burly
Mr. Smilk, the dangling disc almost touching the latter's hunched up
shoulders.
"This is a devil of a note," quoth Mr. Smilk, taking down the receiver.
"Makin' a guy telephone to the police to come and arrest him."
"I wish I had thought to close that window while you were hors de
combat," complained Mr. Yollop shivering. "I'll probably catch my
death of cold standing around here with almost nothing on. That wind
comes straight from the North Pole. Doesn't she answer?"
"No."
"Jiggle it."
"I did jiggle it."
"What?"
"I said I jiggled it."
"Well, jiggle it again."
"Rottenest telephone service in the world," growled Mr. Smilk. "When
you think what we have to pay for telephones these days, you'd
think--hello! Hell--lo!"
"Got her?"
"I thought I had for a second, but I guess it was somebody yawning."
"Awning?"
"Say, if you'll hold that thing around so's I can talk at it, you'll hear
what I'm saying. How do you expect me to--hello! Central? Central!
Hello! Where the hell have you been all--hello! Well, can you beat it? I
had her and she got away."
"No use trying to get her now," said Mr. Yollop, resignedly. "Hang up

for a few minutes. It makes 'em stubborn when you swear at 'em. Like
mules. I've just thought of something else you can do for me while
we're waiting for her to make up her mind to forgive you. Come along
over here and close this window you left open."
Mr. Smilk in closing the window, looked searchingly up and down the
fire escape, peered intently into the street below, sighed profoundly and
muttered something that Mr. Yollop did not hear.
"I've got a fur coat hanging in that closet over there, Cassius. We will
get it out."
Carefully following Mr. Yollop's directions, the obliging rascal
produced the coat and laid it upon the table in the center of the room.
"Turn your back," commanded the owner of the coat, "and hold up your
hands." Then, after he had slipped into the coat: "Now if I only had my
slippers--but never mind. We won't bother about 'em. They're in my
bed room, and probably lost under the bed. They always are, even when
I take 'em off out in the middle of the room. Ah! Nothing like a fur coat,
Cassius. Do you know what cockles are?"
"No, I don't."
"Well, never mind. Now, let's try Central again. Please remember that
no matter how distant she is, she still expects you to look upon her as a
lady. No lady likes to be sworn at at two o'clock in the morning. Speak
gently to her. Call her Madamoiselle. That always gets them. Makes
'em think if they keep their ears open they'll hear something spicy."
"They general fall for dearie," said Mr. Smilk, taking down the
receiver.
"Be good enough to remember that you are calling from my
apartment," said Mr. Yollop severely. "Jiggle it."
Mr. Smilk jiggled it. "I guess she's still mad."
"Jiggle it slowly, tenderly, caressingly. Sort of seductively. Don't be so
savage about it."
"Hello! Central? What number do I have to call to get Spring 3100? ...
I'm not trying to be fresh: ... Yes, that's what I want ... I know the book
says to tell you 'I want to call a policeman' but-- ... Yes, there's a
burglar in my apartment and I want you to--What's that? ... I don't want
to go to bed. ... Say, now YOU'RE gettin' fresh. You give me police--"
"Tell her I've got you surrounded," whispered Mr. Yollop.
"Hello! Hell--lo! Central!"

"Jiggle it."
"Ah, Mademoiselle! Pardon my--"
Voice at the other end of the wire: "Ring off! You've got wrong number.
This is police headquarters." Audible sound of distant receiver being
slapped upon its hook.
"Gee whiz! Now, we're up against it, Mister. We'll be all night gettin'
Central again."
"Be patient, Cassius. Start all over again. Ask for the morgue this time.
That will make her realize the grave danger you are in."
"Say, I wish you'd put that gun in your pocket. It makes the goose flesh
creep out all over me. I'm not going to try to get away. Give you my
word of honor I ain't. You seem to have some sort of idea that I don't
want to be arrested."
"I confess I had some such idea,