Maybe it was the grin fetched him; for them square mouth corners flickers a little and he don't throw any fit. "Evidently you are somewhat familiar with the circumstances," says he. "May I ask if you are sufficiently favored with the confidence of my new son in law to know where he and my—er—his wife happen, to be just now?"
"I admit it," says I; "but if you're thinkin' of springin' any hammer music on Skid, you can look for another party, for you won't get it out of me in a thousand years!"
"Ah!" says he. "I see Young Lochinvar has at least one champion. Allow me to state that my intentions are pacific. My wife and I merely wish, before sailing, to pay a formal call on our daughter and her new husband. Now if you could give me their address——"
"Why, say, Senator," says I, "if you ain't lookin' to start anything, I can do better. I'm going right up there myself this minute, and if Mrs.——"
"She is waiting downstairs in the cab," says he. "Nothing would suit us better."
And, say, maybe it wa'n't just what I should have done, but blamed if I could see how to dodge it when it's up to me that way. So it's me climbin' up on the front seat with the driver of a fancy hotel taxi, papa and mamma behind, and off rolls the surprise party.
Well, you know them cut rate apartment houses, with a flossy reception room, all marble slabs and burlap panels and no elevator. The West Indian at the telephone exchange says we'll find the Mallorys on the top floor back to the left. That meant four flights to climb, which might account for the lack of conversation on the way up. Mallory, with his coat off, his cuffs rolled back, and his face steamed up, answers the ring himself.
"Ah, that you, Torchy?" says he. "We were just wondering if you would——Why—er—ah——" and as he gets sight of the old couple out in the dark hall he breaks off sudden.
"It's all right," says I. "He's promised to give the peace sign. You know the Senator, don't you, Skid?"
"The Senator!" he gasps out.