He shook his head wearily. Nothing made any sense.
He had reached this conclusion when there was a sudden sharp knock on the door of his dressing room. The sound of the impatient knock was like a knife driven into each of his eardrums and then twisted slowly.
He jumped involuntarily and the ice pack fell from his head to the floor.
The knock was repeated, sharply, insistently.
Larry winced, and walked to the door.
“Go away!” he shouted. “I just died!”
The door opened and a girl stepped into the room. She surveyed him coolly.
“You look it,” she murmured.
Larry goggled at her speechlessly. She was just about the most breath-taking parcel of femininity he had ever inspected. Her eyes were deep and level and their shade would have shamed violets. The top of her smooth-shining blonde head came just about to his shoulders and she was as neatly put together as a Christmas package. She was wearing clothes. Larry was too impressed with the contents of this particular package to notice the details of the trimmings.
“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “Won’t you please come in?”
This was a somewhat superfluous invitation, for the girl was already in the room and Larry noticed then, for the first time, that she was not alone.
A man was with her. A tall, well-groomed man with a lean, arrogant face and smooth, dark hair that fitted his skull as closely as a velvet cap.
This immaculately turned-out specimen looked about the dressing room with an amused twist to his lips. His attitude was that of slumming royalty.
“I told you this was a mistake,” he murmured to the girl.
The girl ignored the remark. She turned directly to Larry and he noticed that her small lovely jaw was squared stubbornly.
“I’m Gloria Manners,” she said, “and this is my friend, Dereck Miller.”
“How do you do,” Larry said.
The tall creature designated as Dereck Miller ignored the hand that Larry extended and nodded his head carelessly. Larry discovered that he had taken a violent dislike to Dereck Miller. And this was rather unusual, for Larry was the easy-going, cheerful type, who very seldom bothered to have serious emotions about people. Now he found himself thinking rather wistfully of the many interesting things that could happen to the man, what with big cars whizzing about and people dropping flower pots from high buildings...
This pleasant train of thought was derailed abruptly by the girl’s next remark.
“I want to hire your services, Mr. Temple, if it can be arranged.”
“What?”
“Yes,” the lovely girl said, “I saw your act a few minutes ago and I’d like to hire you to perform at a party I’m giving this coming weekend. Would you be interested?”
“Why — why, yes, indeed,” Larry said breathlessly. He wasn’t thinking of the job so much as the opportunity of seeing this girl again. “Just what sort of a party is it?”
“Quite respectable,” the girl said, smiling slightly.
“I didn’t mean—”
“That’s all right. The party will be given at my father’s estate in Pineknoll. You will come down Friday night and bring your equipment with you. The party is on Saturday night and you will have all day Saturday to set up your apparatus. One of the servants will meet you at the train Friday night, if that is agreeable with you.”
“Why, it sounds perfect,” Larry said enthusiastically.
The tall impeccably clad young man named Dereck regarded the girl with a faintly annoyed expression.
“My dear,” he murmured, “are you sure the colonel will approve of what you’re doing? After all, I don’t imagine that he relishes having just anyone invited out to Pineknoll.”
“Father won’t mind,” the girl said.
“That’s big of the old boy,” Larry said drily.
The girl put her hand on his arm in an impulsive, contrite gesture. “I’m sorry. Forgive me. You must think we’re terribly rude. It isn’t that, but Father is somewhat peculiar, but I’m sure you’ll get along with him.”
“I’ll try my best,” Larry grinned. The girl’s warm sincerity had completely charmed away his feeling of irritation. “He can’t be too bad. After all, he’s your father.”
Dereck coughed and flicked away a spot of dust from his coat sleeve.
“Shall we be going?” He let the question hang meaningly in the air.
The girl was regarding Larry uncertainly. Finally, as if making up her mind, she held out her hand and smiled.
“We’ll be expecting you,” she said. “Friday night.”
“Righto,” Larry said.
The girl smiled again and walked out through the door. Dereck lingered a moment in the doorway.
“Don’t presume on a professional relationship, old boy,” he said softly. Then, with a final glance of faint contempt about the littered dressing room, he departed.
Larry turned the remark over in his mind for several seconds and then he shrugged and bent to retrieve his ice pack. When he straightened up, there was a small man standing in the doorway, regarding him with a cheerful smile.
“Mind if I drop in, chum?” the little man asked.
Larry stared at this new arrival in mild surprise. He was wearing a checkered plaid suit, a green shirt and an orange tie. On his round head he wore a furry cap pulled low over one eye. He was about as inconspicuous as a pink elephant on the morning after.
“Come right in,” Larry said expansively. “This is becoming a popular place these days. We’ll need stop and go signs if the traffic holds up.” He sat down at the dressing room make-up table and balanced the ice pack on his head. “And what can I do for you, little friend?”
The little man stepped into the room and closed the door carefully. He was still smiling and his blue eyes were tiny pin-points of lights in his red-wrinkled face.
“Right nice of you, chum,” he said gratefully. “The name is Buggy Rafferty, late of Atlanta and Leavenworth.”
Larry blinked in surprise.
“Did you say Atlanta?”
“That’s right, chum. And Leavenworth; don’t forget Leavenworth.”
“I’ll try not to,” Larry said dubiously. “And what can I do for you, Mr. Rafferty?”
“Aw, call me Buggy,” the little man said, with a modest wave of his hand. “I ain’t a guy to stand on formality. Particularly with me partners.”
“That’s very democratic of you,” Larry said. “And—” He stopped speaking abruptly as the little man’s last remark hit him solidly. “What was that last, again?” he asked.
“Aw, there I go again,” Buggy laughed, “gettin’ ahead of myself. ’Cause you didn’t know we was going to be partners, did you, chum?”
“The idea hadn’t occurred to me,” Larry admitted. And now that you bring it up, I don’t find it intriguing. Do you care to elucidate, or do you find it fun being mysterious?”
The little man pursed his lips thoughtfully.
“I guess I’d better tell all,” he said. “That would be nice,” Larry said. “Shoot.”
“It’s like this,” Buggy said, “all my life I been on the wrong side of the law and it ain’t no fun. They catch me and ship me away to some lousy jug and that’s that for five, maybe ten years. I’m sick of it. It’s getting boring, that’s what it is.”
“I’m glad you have seen the error of your ways,” Larry said.
“That’s what I’ve seen,” Buggy said, nodding vigorously. “The error of my ways and means. My means, in particular, have been lousy with errors, if you get what I mean.”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” Larry said. “It’s like this. A smart crook is a guy who don’t get caught; right?”