Delphi Complete Works of Thorne Smith (Illustrated), page 19
“Sorry,” apologized the waiter. “I hadn’t realized it myself, but the Colonel kept on insisting.”
“Then don’t abuse his liberality,” advised Topper. “Hurry with the check.”
“Yes,” put in Marion Kerby, “hurry with the check. This place begins to irk me. I’m dying to take a stroll.”
The waiter hastened away and Topper leaned over to Marion.
“Collect that dog,” he told her, “and keep him under your cape until we get out of here.”
“Only for you,” she replied, “would I do such a thing.”
She reached down and after a little scuffling succeeded in gathering up Oscar. For a moment his tail waved frantically above the edge of the table, then flashed from view beneath Marion’s cape, which from time to time thereafter became suddenly convulsed with life. The waiter arrived with the check and in his preoccupation handed it to the Colonel, who, upon scanning the total, promptly disappeared. It was like the flashing out of a light.
“There isn’t that much money in the world,” floated through the air.
Only the check remained, still poised above the table. It was trembling slightly as if the invisible holder were shaken by an attack of nerves.
“The shock was too much for him,” whispered Mrs. Hart. “I’ve seen it happen before.”
“He’s gone,” said the waiter, looking inquiringly at Mr. Topper. “He’s not here any more.”
“Of course not,” laughed Mr. Topper. “He never was. Pass that check to me.”
Before the waiter could reach it the check moved across the table to Mr. Topper’s outstretched hand.
“You’re welcome to it,” a voice murmured.
The waiter moved away from the Colonel’s empty chair and stood close to Mr. Topper.
“Mr. Topper,” he pleaded, “please don’t say he wasn’t here. I could never bear that. Why his cup is still half full of coffee and there’s his smoldering cigarette.”
In the face of this undeniable evidence of the Colonel’s recent presence, Mr. Topper was forced to alter his bantering tactics. He opened his wallet and selected several colorful bills.
“Take this money away,” he said, “and stop asking questions. Let us admit that the Colonel was here. What of it? As you accurately pointed out, he isn’t here any more. He slipped away somewhere as all of us must do at times. If I were in your place I wouldn’t press the investigation any further.”
“I certainly wouldn’t,” remarked Mrs. Hart. “It has gone far enough.”
“I’m sorry,” replied the waiter, “and I’m very much obliged. As you say, Mr. Topper, he must have just slipped away in a hurry like.”
Marion Kerby burst out laughing and patted the waiter on his back.
“That’s it,” she said. “That’s exactly it. He slipped away in a hurry like, or, to put it differently, with all possible speed.”
The waiter smiled nervously and bowed, then emulated the Colonel’s example to the best of his ability. Mr. Topper, despite his eagerness, was forced to be more leisurely in his retreat. With earnest but wavering dignity, he followed the women from the room. Oscar lent distinction to their departure. Every time he kicked his legs Marion Kerby suddenly bulged out in the back in a most grotesque manner, an occurrence which caused Mrs. Hart to burst forth into hysterical laughter to the greater humiliation of Mr. Topper. Once safely outside in the darkness he mopped his face and gave vent to his feelings.
“After eating and drinking his fill,” he complained, “he plays us a trick like that. And he calls himself a soldier.”
“A Colonel, no less,” said Marion Kerby, “and he allows me to protect this unlettered hound.”
She dropped Oscar to the road and readjusted her cape.
“He couldn’t help it,” Mrs. Hart defended. “The check was too much for him. I’m sure he didn’t mean to do it. At the size of the figures he lost control, and anyway, think how much he drank.”
“I never saw a man do better,” admitted Marion, “and for that reason I forgive him. We all play tricks in our cups.”
Without paying attention to their direction they wandered down the wooded road until they came to an open field, a meadow slanting off in the darkness. In the distance, above the trees, an old battered moon was sailing low in the sky. The night was quiet and peaceful round them, filled with secret rustlings and a thousand fragrant smells. The Sleeping Fox seemed miles away, its brilliance vanished and its orchestra stilled. Without knowing it they were soothed and subdued by the quiet beauty of their surroundings. And out of the quiet beauty of their surroundings a singing voice, deep and undaunted, came storming towards them down the road.
“It’s the Colonel,” exclaimed Mrs. Hart. “He has a splendid voice. Listen!”
Marion and Topper listened without enthusiasm to the following chanty:
“Oh, dark and stormy was the night
When last I left my Meg.
She’d a government band around each hand
And another one round each leg.
“Yo ho, my boys, yo ho,
And a-sailing we shall go.
We’ll sail no more on England’s shore—”
“A splendid voice,” remarked Mr. Topper, sarcastically interrupting the booming flow of the old sea song. “Caruso must be fairly spinning in his grave.”
“What’s this about Caruso?” asked the Colonel, looming large in the darkness. “Why, I taught him his do, re, mi’s.”
“So you are once more with us,” said Marion Kerby. “What was your hurry to go?”
“Couldn’t help it,” explained the Colonel. “The size of the check destroyed my resistance. There were no such figures in my days. But I’ve brought along gifts as a show of atonement.”
He slipped his hands into his pockets and produced two large bottles.
“In view of the size of the check,” he continued, “I took the liberty to remove these from the pantry. I have still another.”
The gifts of atonement proved more than acceptable and the Colonel was reinstated with full honors and privileges. With a bottle circulating freely between them they wandered off into the meadow until wandering no longer suited their mood. Mr. Topper insisted on demonstrating the fact that he was rapidly becoming a spirit himself. With the utmost conviction he would throw himself into the air, but being a little heavier than that element he invariably returned with great speed to the earth, from which his companions would lift him and once more set him in motion. It was a night of magnificent distances and headlong enterprise. They sang and danced and made patriotic speeches and pursued each other across the meadows to the intense delight of the gamboling flanks of Oscar. To Topper, it was like a dream, one in which he was liberated and given tremendous strength. His steps seemed as light as feathers and as long as leagues. The field was filled with dancing forms that swirled in wild abandon until they left the earth and went circling round the moon. And through the darkness he heard shouting voices as the party searched for one another. The Scotch with which the Colonel plied them became transmuted in their brains into the glory of the night. Nature became intensely beautiful and their bodies madly alive. It was such a night as comes seldom to a man and which fortunately for his peace of mind is seldom remembered after it has gone. Topper remembered but little when he awoke the following morning on the bank of a slow-moving river. Oscar’s bushy tail was draped across his chest, and that was all that remained of Oscar. He had lost ground during the exhausting activities of the night. Topper slid cautiously from under the tail and looked down into the clear water of the river. His body was feverish and his head an aching weight which he balanced with the greatest difficulty. Several yards away Marion Kerby was sleeping sweetly in Mrs. Hart’s lap. The Colonel, deep in slumber, was sitting erect as if he had forgotten to lie down. Topper turned his eyes away from his companions and looked longingly at the river. His body craved to feel the soothing flow of its cool waters. Unable to stand the temptation any longer he crept away into a clump of bushes and divested himself of his outer garments. With a last timid look at his sleeping friends he slid down the bank and insinuated himself into the water, his hot blood leaping with gratitude as the river closed around him. But Topper was not alone. A flaunting tail had followed him to his tryst. Round and round it circled, splitting the water neatly like the periscope of a submarine. Topper was hardly pleased with the presence of Oscar, but he was enjoying the river too thoroughly to leave it undisturbed to the dog. His enjoyment was interrupted by a greeting from the bank.
“Good morning,” the Colonel called to him. “Will you join me in a drink?”
“That’s all I ever seem to be doing,” replied Topper, swimming over to the Colonel. “But just for once I will. After this I’m going to swear off for a while.”
The Colonel passed down the bottle and Topper refreshed himself.
“My dog seems to have grown less,” observed the Colonel, watching the sportive tail. “I’ll have to do some hard work on him to-day.”
“If you make him disappear altogether you’d be doing me a favor,” said Mr. Topper, holding up the bottle.
“The creative spirit is too strong in me for that,” replied the Colonel. “I must make him a whole dog or bust.”
His head was withdrawn from the bank and in a few minutes he reappeared accompanied by Mrs. Hart and Marion Kerby, very sketchily attired in improvised bathing suits. With little screams of delight they plunged into the river and swam friskily round the dismayed Topper, who, submerged up to his chin, was modestly treading water.
“An auspicious beginning to a new day,” cried the Colonel. “This will set us all up splendidly.”
“This and a good breakfast,” added Mrs. Hart.
“What a night it was, Cosmo,” said Marion, swimming up to him and resting her hand on his shoulder. “Did you ever have so much fun?”
“It was fun,” admitted Topper, “but whether I should have enjoyed it or not I am too vague to remember. What did we do with the automobile?”
“It’s still at the road-house. We’ll get it presently and move along.”
“I don’t move along an inch,” replied Topper, “until all of you have cleared out of here.”
“I’ll get them out,” said Marion. Then, turning to the others, she said, “The last one out forfeits a drink. Only three are left in the bottle.”
This announcement was immediately followed by an undignified scramble up the bank of the river, the Colonel doing his best to block Mrs. Hart’s progress. With great good humor Mr. Topper watched the three pairs of legs speeding over the grass. Marion Kerby was leading the way, running like a frightened deer, her flimsy draperies streaming in the wind. After a final turn in the water, Topper emerged from the river, and, casting a cautious glance about him, sought concealment in the bushes, his eyes still filled with the grace and beauty of Marion Kerby’s flying form.
CHAPTER XVIII
MR. TOPPER DOES NOT CELEBRATE
IN THIS CONVIVIAL manner began one of the most active and interesting periods of Mr. Topper’s incredible vacation. He had originally decided that he needed a change. Now his needs were more than satisfied. No man’s life could have undergone more radical alterations. The Colonel and Mrs. Hart garnished his trip with their misconduct, lending to an automobile tour the atmosphere of a raiding party.
For three weeks the four of them cruised perilously about the countryside, upsetting the entire New England States and leaving ruined and shattered nerves in the wake of the hard pressed automobile. At night they slept wherever they chanced to find themselves and frequently they found themselves in strange and unaccountable places. To-night it might be a road-house, on the following one a field. And there were moments so fraught with danger that they retreated to the woods until the hue and cry had subsided.
Despite the many discomforts of this open-air existence, Mr. Topper accepted his lot for reasons of economy, Mrs. Hart and the Colonel being rather fastidious in their tastes. Whenever the party put up at an inn they loudly demanded the best of accommodations, for which they graciously allowed Mr. Topper to pay. That neither of them had been asked to become permanently attached to Mr. Topper never seemed to occur to them. They were childlike in their faith that they were wanted. Topper occasionally wondered about this, reflecting that his invitation to the Colonel to share his Scotch had turned out to be one of the most costly acts of hospitality he had ever performed.
Nevertheless, Mr. Topper appeared to have profited by his outing. His body had grown lean and alert, ready to run at a moment’s notice, and his skin had been tanned by constant exposure to the elements. His character had also toughened considerably and his drinking capacity enlarged. True, he was hardly what one would call a desperate and reckless man, yet he had learned to accept danger with fortitude and delinquency with tolerance. Nor did his reputation weigh too heavily on his mind. By day he flaunted it in the face of the world and at night it dangled in jeopardy. And strangely enough Mr. Topper, in spite of his disorderly life, or rather, because of it, had become a better member of society; more self-reliant, more capable and far more interesting. He discovered in his heart the first faint whispering of pure Christianity, and in some way he continued to keep his virtue intact by keeping his vices active.
After the swimming party in the river he had eschewed strong liquor, and Marion Kerby had followed his example. Of course there had been a few slight lapses, but these had been such trifling affairs that they no longer counted with Topper. The Colonel and Mrs. Hart, however, were implacable in their thirst, to the quenching of which they devoted most of their energy and thought. For several days at a time they would absent themselves from the company of Mr. Topper and Marion to revel in more congenial surroundings. From these little side trips they invariably returned in a state of moral collapse; Oscar, more or less visible, close on his master’s heels.
During the absence of this unedifying couple, Topper and Marion dwelt together in comparatively quiet and peaceful companionship. On one of her flights from his side she had acquired, without cost, a copy of the “Odyssey,” and this brave tale they read together throughout the long, still, summer days.
For the first time in his life Topper came to realize that loose living and large thinking could get along quite comfortably together, that they were in fact boon companions. Under the influence of Marion Kerby he developed along altogether new and improved lines. But whenever the Colonel and Mrs. Hart returned from their excursions, Marion reverted to her former ways and joined them in a conspiracy to destroy Mr. Topper’s tranquillity.
On this particular occasion there were good reasons for rejoicing. Oscar at last, after a tremendous burst of concentration, had succeeded in materializing up to the ears. This was the farthest north the dog had ever achieved, and as a consequence the Colonel was bubbling over with gratification and pride.
“Just mark my words,” he went about saying. “I’ll make a whole dog of him yet.”
Oscar, rather dizzy at his unexpected success, swaggered aggressively in his gait and danced incompletely around. Up to this time he had shown but little interest in his personal appearance, being satisfied to remain at whatever length of dog he happened to find himself. On some days he was only an animated tail, on others a leaping rump, and on several occasions he appeared simply as a leg and let it go at that. Mr. Topper had never grown thoroughly accustomed to Oscar because of his continually changing appearance, but the man’s natural love of animals gradually overcame his first decided objections. To-day he shared in the joy of the others and complimented Oscar on his brilliant showing, saying that he hoped some day to see his face.
“If ever there was an occasion that justified a celebration that occasion is now at hand,” declared the Colonel with conviction. “I know of a first-rate hotel near-by and I strongly suggest that we put up there for the night.”
“You’re a particularly ingenious person in finding occasion to justify a celebration,” replied Mr. Topper, “but on this one, Colonel, I’m with you. I’d do anything in my power to encourage that dog of yours to go one way or the other, preferably the other. Let us descend on this hotel.”
“Never have I seen such an improvement in a man in all my life,” exclaimed Mrs. Hart in rapture. “Marion, you’ve done him a world of good.”
Topper cast her a critical glance. “You look terrible,” he remarked. “You should cut it out for a while.”
“But our visit is nearly over,” she replied with a little sigh. “Let’s all raise hell while our ectoplasm lasts. You don’t have to worry, Topper.”
“What a tough baby she is,” Mr. Topper mused to himself. Then he added aloud, “Is your husband still alive?”
“Yes, thank God,” she replied with fervor, “and I wish him good health and a long life.”
“Amen,” said the Colonel piously.
“Beautiful characters,” remarked Mr. Topper. “What about this celebration?”
To deprive the hotel of its legitimate profit it was decided that Mr. Topper should engage a large room and that the others should, as the Colonel tactfully phrased it, “join him there.”
“The idea is good,” agreed Mr. Topper, “but for one consideration. What about Oscar?”
“We can cram him into the trunk on the back and cut an air hole in it,” replied the Colonel, proceeding to act on his words.
“If Oscar can stand it I can,” remarked Mr. Topper. “What’s to prevent him from dematerializing and joining us at some ill-chosen moment?”
“I hardly think he’ll do that,” said the Colonel. “He’s so pleased with himself as he is that he wouldn’t lose an inch for the world.”
“Let us devoutly hope so,” said Mr. Topper, as he watched the Colonel and Mrs. Hart unceremoniously cram Oscar into the trunk.
The hotel lay far back on a deep green, floor-like lawn which supported the weight of many trees, large trees whose generous limbs showered the benediction of shade upon the opulent persons who sat beneath them discussing golf, bridge and gin and appraising the new arrivals. The hotel itself was a rangy structure, having been added to in various styles of architecture as its popularity spread abroad. However, through sheer massiveness, it succeeded in presenting a harmonious whole, being sufficiently antique and modern to appeal to the comfortably artistic.
