Do you remember Cuthbert? We’ll have Cuthbert stories all this week!  From the Improvement Era, January 1938 –

Let Eve Equal X

By Estelle Webb Thomas

“Seems Richard’s fallen for this Eve and she can’t even see him,” explained Tubby to that portion of Cuthbert that was visible as he delved in the “innards” of his car, recently, for obvious reasons, dubbed Lady Godiva. “How come I know so much about it? She’s my second cousin and she’s here visiting Mother, you know.”

“And she don’t like Richard?” Cuthbert lifted a smudged, perspiring face to stare incredulously at Tubby, “She ain’t got good sense!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t put it that way,” Tubby replied, tolerantly, “She’s bright enough, and quite a looker, too! But it seems she’s got a feller back east, or wherever she comes from — ”

“He ain’t in Richard’s class!” affirmed Cuthbert, positively, “That kind don’t grow back east! And I bet she’s not in his class, either!”

“Well, our problem isn’t whether she’s good enough for him; it’s just to make her Richard-conscious!” pronounced Tubby, unctuously. “Personally, I don’t see why Mary Wright isn’t still good enough for him. I’d say she was just his type!”

“Mary Wright? Oh, yes.” Of course, now Tubby mentioned it, he had seen Richard and Mary together a lot: singing side by side in Sunday School, coming into M. I. A. together, dancing — “Why, I wonder what’s the matter between him and Mary?”

“Oh, I guess it was only friendship — Richard’s known Mary all his life. Anyway, none of the girls in this town would stand a chance with Eve. She’s got what it takes. Looks like a movie queen, or something. Anyway, she seems to be what the doctor ordered for Richard. A feller has to decide these things for himself, I always say!”

“Sure, if Richard craves this Eve, he’s got to have her,” Cuthbert stated, wiping his hands absently on his trouser legs, “but where do you and me come into it?”

“Well, I’ll tell you. This is my idea and I think it’s a pretty good one. The way I look at it, a whizz like you are at algebra — if you was to say ‘Let Eve equal X’, and then put the old bean to work on it, you can’t fail figgering it out!”

For, although Cuthbert had never been one of those students that teachers write home about, he was good at algebra. He was also a good Scout. The Scout Law was Cuthbert’s creed and he tried conscientiously to live up to its precepts. And it was these two peaks of excellence, towering above the level of his mediocrity that were his undoing in the Brandon case. Cuthbert in the role of Cupid was no new thing; he had been the means of reuniting two estranged but loving hearts as far back in his career as the Sixth Grade; but he was now to learn that women cannot be interpreted by algebraic rules and that daily good turns are not always received in the proper spirit.

Richard Brandon had been Cuthbert’s Scoutmaster since his Tenderfoot days and was the hero of his every hope. He dreamed of the time when his ears would lie back, his feet diminish, and his unruly hair develop the nonchalant wave of his idol’s; so he lent an attentive ear to Tubby’ s tale of woe.

A lot of water had run under the bridge since the day when he had, in a physiology test, described the heart as one of “the abominable organs.” Though still rather vague as to its location, he was now well aware that it was most abominable of all the “innards” and almost as breakable as his mother’s cherished china. Abominable, too, the way the in- nocent bystander was always getting involved in other people’s troubles of the heart.

“Now you’ve gone and got me roped into another love affair just as I was going to take her all apart and grease her good!” he complained when Tubby stopped for breath. “Just how do you know he’s in love with her anyway? I wanna be real sure before I waste any of my valuable time on the case.”

“Oh, lots of things. Way he looks at her, for one thing!”

“Looks with his eyes, don’t he? Just like I look at you!”

“He certainly don’t look like you’re looking at me right now or she’d call the police!”

“What else? Looking at her isn’t enough to get me all excited!”

“Oh, well — he has an awful lot of business with Dad, lately, always there talking. ”

“You mean he’s in love with your dad?”

“Good Friday, no! Will I have to operate on that skull of yours to get an idea into it? It means he gets to see Eve oftener!”

“Oh. Anything else?”

“Well, there’s lots of signs that a guy like me can notice, A kid like you, without any experience in those things, wouldn’t see ’em.”

“Well, I can’t see how a person could know a person was in love with another person, unless the person that was in love with the other person told the person — ”

“First person, second person, third person, all very singular!” intoned Tubby, “Sounds like a lesson in grammar. Makes me think of the time you conjugated the verb ‘to wink’. Remember?”

“Shut up!” said Cuthbert.

“‘I wink at Helen, I wank at Helen, I have wunken at Helen many times!’ ” recited Tubby, rapidly.

“Lay off!” shouted Cuthbert, wrathfully, “before I apply this monkey wrench where it will do the most good!”

Tubby dodged expertly, and suggested hastily that they get back to their problem. And with a sigh Cuthbert put away his precious tools and prepared to desert his faithful Lady Godiva for the fairer but more fickle Eve.

“‘Cording to the movies and everything, making ’em jealous seems to be about the best remedy,” he remarked after ruminating at length, “but how you going to work it?

“Yes, how?” echoed Tubby.

Heads in hands, the two sat sunk in thought. A look of intense and painful concentration contorted Cuthbert’s freckled features. Suddenly an idea struck him with almost physical force. “Sa-ay, listen!” he whispered, excitedly, “The Mutual’s giving a holiday party — ”

Mary Wright was very busy these days. Indeed, she worked and played with a feverish intensity foreign to her usually placid nature and with a gayety that might have seemed forced to a close observer. Just now, as president of the Y. W. M. I. A., she was panning the details of a holiday party. She and her assistants had gone to great pains to make this different. After much consultation, a wiener roast was decided upon, to be held in the frosty moonlight, the site to be selected by the Boy Scouts, who were to act as guides to the rendezvous. This was to be followed by a dance in the social hall.

Mary was pleased and touched by the eagerness with which Tubby and Cuthbert, as Patrol leader and assistant, fell in with her plans. They knew just the place, they assured her and would make all arrangements. Bursting with importance and their own secret plans, they marshalled the troop, had them dressed in uniform, laden with supplies and all ready to escort the merrymakers to the spot decided upon, a full hour before the appointed time. This location was the Scouts’ secret, for the success of Tubby’s and Cuthbert’s plan depended upon that.

Fate played beautifully into their hands. Mary, it seemed, must be late to the party, as hers was the responsibility of seeing that all was in readiness for the ball. Cuthbert was therefore to wait and direct her to the picnic grounds while Tubby’s problem was to inveigle Richard to the same spot — the other Scouts in the meantime having escorted the crowd to the real scene of the festivities.

Mary, arranging last minute floral decorations in the gleaming ballroom, zealously assisted by the conspirators, heard the shouts and laughter of the hikers as they followed the haversack-laden Scouts hilariously out of town. With a bitter little smile she pictured Richard assisting the glamorous Eve along the rocky trail. At the sound of his familiar voice she started violently and dropped a wreath rakishly on Cuthbert’s upturned head. As if summoned by her thought of him, Richard stood in the doorway.

“What’s the trouble?” He advanced rather self-consciously toward the three decorators. Mary looked blank and Tubby said glibly, “Well, you see, the decorating wasn’t all done and so Coppy — er — Cuthbert and me — I — thought — well, we decided as Scoutmaster and everything, you’d ought — you’d prob’ly want to help Miss Mary — ” he floundered to a confused stop. Richard looked at Mary.

“You sent for me?”

“Certainly not!” said Mary, proudly.

“Why, these boys said — Tubby, you said — ”

“Well, Coppy, we’d better be getting along!” “Tubby said hastily, “We’ll be waiting out here when you’re ready to go. Miss Mary!”

“Well, I certainly should not have waited if they hadn’t told me you wanted me!” they heard Richard say, as they slunk out the back door. Richard followed them to the door. “Where is it?” he demanded shortly.

He looked queer, Cuthbert thought. “Up — up by J — Jackson Spring!” he stammered.

“Well, you boys go on, I know the way. We’ll come when Mary’s through here.”

“He didn’t seem very mad, did he?” whispered Tubby, as they hurried away.
“He might have been exercising a lot of self-control.” Cuthbert suggested.

Out of the sunset haze, a dapper
young man with a suitcase, hurried toward them. “Could you, ah, direct me to the Meredith home?” he inquired. Very explicitly, Tubby directed him. “Eve’s boy friend from Back East!” he hissed, when the stranger had gone on his way.

“You ought to have asked him to the wienie roast,” suggested Cuthbert, “besides, that wasn’t the way to your house, was it?”

“Oh, just a wee bit round about,” Tubby replied, airily, “I don’t want him getting there too soon: Mother will send him out hunting the party. Use your head! We don’t want him gumming up the works! How can you expect Eve to be jealous when Richard and Mary come late to the party together, if she has her back-easter there to take her mind off?”

“And will Richard be sore when he finds that guy’s here!” Cuthbert added.

“He would have to pop up right at this particular time!” Tubby directed a vicious scowl toward the stranger’s receding back.

“Well, if my scheme works out and she gets jealous enough to be right good and interested in Richard before she knows Boy Friend is here, maybe he can’t do any harm!” Cuthbert consoled him, “Not if the girl’s got eyes in her head — or gray matter, either!”

Where’s the matches?” asked Tubby, shivering in the wan winter twilight, above the dried brush and twigs they had raked together near the spring.

“In your pocket, I s’pose. I know I haven’t any.”

“What? No matches! You’re a dandy Scout! Thought a Scout was always prepared for emergencies!”

“Well, if I was as good a Scout as some folks seem to think they are, I could make a fire in these wet branches without any matches!”

“Well, no use getting mad — nothing scoutish about that!”

“Scoutly, you mean. No, of course it won’t help any to quarrel! Where’s the wienies? We’ll gnaw a few cold while we’re waiting.”

“Wienies? Why — why — didn’t you bring any?” shouted Tubby.

“Who? Me? Say, did I have to think of everything? I gave ’em to Butch to divide around — I never thought of needing any here! Anyway, we didn’t plan to stay here and eat. When Richard and Mary get here we’re to pretend the others must have changed their mind and start out to hunt ’em — you know what we planned!”

“Yes, and then we were to find them and Eve was to fall on Richard’s neck ’cause he came late with Mary — don’t sound so hot to me — not on an empty stomach, it don’t.”

“Who got me into this, anyway?” demanded Cuthbert, hotly, “Who was it said, ‘Let Eve equal X’ — ”

“Well, the wienies are all gone by now, never fear!” said Tubby, in a dying voice, “worst of it is, I saved up my appetite at lunch time — I only ate — ”

“Never mind!” interrupted Cuthbert, “I don’t want to hear what you ate! Let’s run a race and get our feet warm!”

“Save your strength to get you home on an empty stomick!” Tubby said hollowly, “When we going to give up and go?”

“Let’s don’t fail Richard again. I’m ‘fraid he won’t have much use for us after that trick — even if it was for his own good. You know they couldn’t find the crowd, if they should come, if we weren’t here. But, Friday, my feet are cold!”

“Course your feet are cold. Just about twice as cold as mine!” Tubby agreed.

“How’s that?”

“Why, there’s twice as much of them!” He cackled half-heartedly at his own humor and then added, “Hey, your ears look like hunks of roast beef — they’re so red!”

“This is a poor time to bring that up!” Cuthbert cupped his hands over his ears and thought about yesterday’s dinner. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, brown gravy, deep-dish apple pie with lots of cream. He was roused from this blissful dream by another attempt at humor on Tubby’s part. “You look like Cassius!”

“Cassius Who?” Cuthbert demanded. He was in no mood for remarks of a personal nature.

“Oh, that guy — you know!” said Tubby vaguely, ” ‘Cassius hath a lean and hungry look!’ Shakespeare, or somebody!”

“Cassius Shakespeare,” Cuthbert ruminated, “Don’t know him. Live around here?”

“Oh, let it go!” said Tubby, wearily, “He’s some ancient guy or other. Only reason I brought him up — he had a hungry look and so have you!”

“Bet he was a Boy Scout doing a kind turn to somebody!” muttered Cuthbert, with unaccustomed bitterness.

At eleven by Tubby ‘s wrist watch, they gave up and went home. They went a long, cold mile out of their way to pass the place where the picnic had been held, but the fire was out and the place trampled and deserted. Half-frozen and with all their plentiful supply of the milk of human kindness curdled in their souls, the conspirators plodded through the snowy street toward the brightly lighted ballroom, w^here in unconscious mockery of their discomfort, the warm and well-fed dancers whirled gaily past the windows.

“Well,” said Cuthbert, gloomily, “Richard wasn’t at the wienie roast. He didn’t know where it was. So, maybe Eve missed him and Mary and got jealous, after all!”

“Here’s hoping!” Tubby sighed gustily.

“Look! Look at that, will ya!” Cuthbert grasped his arm. Richard and Mary were dancing past. They were looking deep into each other’s eyes and their faces were radiant. Heartlessly absorbed in each other while Richard’s would-be benefactors stood perishing outside.

“Come on!” Tubby pulled Cuthbert toward the door, “That ought to be Eve he’s looking at like that! Something’s gotta be done! ”

Warmth, melody, and gaiety enveloped them inside the hall. Cuthbert felt his well-nursed grouch slipping away. Blinking in the bright light, they stood about, searching for Eve.

“Maybe she’s grieving in some corner!” suggested Cuthbert.

“No,” Tubby whispered, out of his larger experience with women, “she’s probably putting on a brave face, though her heart is breaking—”

A sudden whiff of some exotic perfume and Eve herself drifted by, in the arms of a dandified stranger. “Ain’t that — that’s the guy that got off the train, isn’t it?”

“Old Back-Easter, himself! Wonder how he ever found her, after my clear-as-mud directions! No wonder Richard’s dancing with Mary! I bet he’s just putting on!”

At the earliest opportunity, the boys sought Richard out. “Now, now!” he interposed, smilingly before they could speak, “don’t say it, boys, don’t say it! You had it coming to you, you know, for that whopper you told! I don’t know w^hat the idea was, but you surely did me a good turn — whether you meant to, or not!”

“Wh-what — ”

“Well, I-we — that is, Mary and I got to talking and forgot all about the wiener roast, believe it or not!”

“And did — is — is it all right?” stammered Cuthbert, embarrassed, but determined to find out if his suffering was in vain.

“All right!” exclaimed Richard, “Why, everything’s as right as rain!” Tubby beamed. “Then it worked, Coppy, old boy, it worked! I knew old Coppy could fix it! 1 said to him, I said, ‘You just say, Let Eve equal X,’ and go to it! So she sat up and took notice, did she?”

Richard looked blank. “Now, now. Tubby, take it easy,” he advised. “You’ve been out in the cold so long your brains are a bit numb. What’s all this about Eve? Eve Who?”

“Eve Who? Why, Adam’s wife, of course!” said Cuthbert, with heavy sarcasm? “That’s who you been pining away over, ain’t it? Ever hear of Eve Pond?”

“Oh, Eve Pond. Yes, she’s a nice little girl and a pretty one, too. Mighty happy tonight, too, I imagine. Her friend is here, I see.”

“And don’t you care? Ain’t you jealous or anything?” inquired Cuthbert, belligerently.

“Who, me?” Richard looked genuinely surprised. “Why should I care? Am I supposed to be jealous?” he laughed.

“Somebody’s supposed to be jealous!” shouted Cuthbert.” “If you ain’t jealous, and Eve ain’t jealous, what, for Pete’s sake, did I freeze my ears for?”

“And why did I miss my supper?” moaned Tubby, tightening his belt. Richard looked in bewilderment from one irate Scout to another.

“I’m still all in the dark. Here I was starting out to be eternally grateful to you boys for helping me to patch up my quarrel with Mary and you keep ringing Eve into the story. I don’t get the connection.”

“Oh, let it pass!” Cuthbert said largely, “Tubby had another of his pipe dreams, I guess. Anyway, we done — did our daily good turn and personally, I think Mary’s worth a barnful of Eves. But I’m telling you, right now, I’m mixing in no more love affairs! Them that wants to get tangled up in them can untangle theirselves! People that understand women so well — ” he cast a withering glance at Tubby, “can solve ‘em. Hereafter, I’m taking my algebra straight!”