I'd looked the boat over from bow to stern and back again about three times before I happens to take another glance at Marjorie. And there, almost hid by one side of her, was a young lady in a white sailor hat with some straw colored hair showin' under the wide brim, and a pair of gray eyes that I couldn't mistake anywhere. It was Vee, all right; just as slim and graceful and classy as ever, with the same independent tilt to her chin, and the same Mayflower pink showin' in her cheeks.
And, say, I want to tell you that about then I was glad I came! It didn't make any difference if there was half a dozen Counts, and a Duke and what not besides; just seein' her once more, even if I didn't get a chance to put over a word, was worth while. And right there I makes up my mind that, Count or no Count, I'm goin' to push to the front.
"Oh, you Miss Vee!" I megaphones through my hands, just as enthusiastic as anybody on the pier.
About the third call catches her ear. She sort of starts and gazes at the crowd kind of puzzled. There's such a mob, though, she don't pick me out. I could see her turn to Marjorie and say something, and then I gets wise to the fact that the four-eyed gent with the bristly hair and the half gray set of shavin' brush mustaches, standin' next to Marjorie, was one of their party. Miss Vee leans over and passes along some remark to him, and he shrugs his shoulders and says something that makes 'em both laugh.
"If that's the Count," thinks I, "he's a punk specimen."
A couple of minutes later the boat comes alongside and the passengers break away from the rail to get in line for the gangplank. As I'm there to welcome Miss Marjorie Ellins, I has to post myself near the E section, and inside of fifteen minutes she's all through havin' her suitcase and steamer trunk pawed over, and leavin' the hold baggage to be claimed later, we streams out to where I had a cab waitin'.
"Is it all aboard, Miss Marjorie?" says I.
"Not yet," says she. "You see, I've asked Vee to come home with me for dinner—the girl I met on the steamer. You don't mind waiting, do you?"
Did I? Say, nobody would suspect it, I guess, by the grin I had on when she and Aunty and the four-eyed party comes trailin' out.
"Say, Miss Marjorie," says I, "is that Count Schutzenbund?"