He gave me the program, though; how they was goin' to have a sham torpedo battle, windin' up with a grand illumination of the fleet.
"You ought to run up and see it," says he.
"It looks like I had to," says I.
"But what about The Toreador?" says he.
"Nothin' much," says I,—"only I've bought the blamed thing."
It was Pinckney's turn to grow bug-eyed; but when I'd told him all about the deal, and how the veiled lady had stung me into sayin' what I had, he's as pleased as if he'd been readin' the joke column.
"Shorty," says he, "you're a genius. Why, that's the very thing to do. Get together your party, steam up there, anchor in the harbor, and see the show. It's deuced good form, you know."
"That's all I want," says I. "Just so long's I'm sure I'm in good form, I'm happy. But say, I wouldn't dare tackle it unless you went along."
I found out later that Pinckney'd turned down no less than three parties of that kind, but when I puts it up to him, he never fiddles short at all.
"Why, I'd be delighted," says he.