Well, the minute she gets wise that it's all a job that Pinckney and I have put up between us, and discovers that my giddy lookin' friend is only Cousin Cornelia doin' the butterfly act, the thunder storm is all over. The waiter shoves up another table, and they plants Durgin next to Cornie, and the festivities takes a new start. Did Durgin boy forget all about them chilly feet of his? Why, you could almost see the frost startin' out before he'd said a dozen words, and by the time he'd let the whole effect sink in, he was no nearer contractin' chilblains than a Zulu with his heels in the campfire. What pleases me most, though, was the scientific duck I made in the last round. We'd gone clear through the menu, and they was finishin' up their cordials, when I spots the waiter comin' with a slip of paper on his tray as long as a pianola roll. "Hey, Pinckney," says I, "see what's comin' now!" And when Pinckney reached around and discovers what it is, he digs down for his roll like a true sport, never battin' an eyelash. "You would ring in the fam'ly on me, would you," says I, "when I'm showin' lady friends the sights?" CHAPTER VIII DOPING OUT AN ODD ONE Say, notice any deep sea roll about my walk? No? Well, maybe you can get the tarry perfume as I pass by? Funny you don't; for I've been a Vice Commodore for most three weeks now. Yes, that's on the level--belay my spinnaker taffrail if it ain't! That's what I get for bein' one of the charter members of the Rockhurst Yacht Club. You didn't, eh? Well, say, I'm one of the yachtiest yachters that ever jibbed a gangway. Not that I do any sailin' exactly; but I guess Sadie and me each paid good money for our shares of club stock, and if that ain't as foolish an act as you can find in the nautical calendar, then I'll eat the binnacle boom. Course, this Vice Commodore stunt was sort of sprung on me; for I'd been such an active member I didn't even know the bloomin' clubhouse was finished until here the other day I gets this bulletin from the annual meetin', along with the programme for the openin' exercises. "Gee!" says I. "Vice Commodore! Say, there must be some mistake about this." "Not at all," says Sadie. "Sure there is," says I. "Why, I hardly know one end of a boat from the other; and besides I ain't got any clubby habits. They've been let in wrong, that's all. I'll resign." "You'll do nothing of the sort!" says Sadie. "When I took all that trouble to have you win over that ridiculous Bronson-Smith!" "Eh?" says I. "Been playin' the Mrs. Taft, have you? In that case, I expect I'll have to stay with it. But, honest, you can look for a season of perfectly punk Vice Commodorin'."