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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29764-8.txt b/29764-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a869092 --- /dev/null +++ b/29764-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7679 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kid Scanlan, by H. C. Witwer + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Kid Scanlan + +Author: H. C. Witwer + +Release Date: August 22, 2009 [EBook #29764] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KID SCANLAN *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + + +KID SCANLAN + + +BY + +H. C. WITWER + + +AUTHOR OF + +THE LEATHER PUSHERS, FIGHTING BLOOD, ETC. + + + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP + +PUBLISHERS + +NEW YORK + + + + +Copyright, 1920, + +BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY + +(INCORPORATED) + + + + +DEDICATED TO + +ALLAN HENRY WITWER + + MY SIX-YEAR-OLD DESCENDANT + WHO WEEPS BITTERLY WHEN + I READ MY YARNS ALOUD + TO HIS PATIENT + MOTHER + +H. C. W. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I. LAY OFF MACDUFF + II. EAST LYNCH + III. PLEASURE ISLAND + IV. LEND ME YOUR EARS + V. "EXIT, LAUGHING" + VI. THE UNHAPPY MEDIUM + VII. LIFE IS REEL! + VIII. HOSPITAL STUFF + + + + +KID SCANLAN + + +CHAPTER I + +LAY OFF, MACDUFF! + +Brains is great things to have, and many's the time I've wished I had a +set of 'em in _my_ head instead of just plain bone! Still they's a lot +of guys which has gone through life like a yegg goes through a safe, +and taken everything out of it that wasn't nailed, with nothin' in +their head but hair! + +A college professor gets five thousand a year, a good lightweight will +grab that much a fight. A school teacher drags down fifteen a week, +and the guy that looks after the boilers in the school buildin' gets +thirty! + +Sweet cookie! + +So don't get discouraged if the pride of the family gets throwed out of +school because he thinks twice two is eighteen and geography is played +with nets. The chances is very bright that young Stupid will be +holdin' the steerin' wheel of his own Easy Eight when the other guys, +which won all the trick medals for ground and lofty learnin', will be +wonderin' why a good bookkeeper never gets more than twenty-five a +week. And then, if he feels he's _got_ to have brains around him, now +that he's grabbed the other half of the team--money--he can go downtown +and buy all the brains he wants for eighteen dollars a week! + +So if you're as shy on brains as a bald-headed man is of dandruff, and +what's more, you _know_ it, cheer up! Because you can bet the gas-bill +money that you got somethin' just as good. Some trick concealed about +you that'll keep you out of the bread line. The thing to do is to take +an inventory of yourself and find it! + +Look good--it's there somewheres! + +Kid Scanlan's was hangin' from his left shoulder, and it made him +enough dimes in five years to step out of the crowd and watch the +others scramble from the sidelines. It was just an ordinary arm, size +36, model A, lot 768, same as we all have--but inside of it the Kid had +a wallop that would make a six-inch shell look like a lover's caress! + +Inside of his head the Kid had nothin'! + +Scanlan went through the welterweight division about like the Marines +went through Belleau Wood, and, finally, the only thing that stood +between him and the title was a guy called One-Punch Ross--the +champion. They agreed to fight until nature stopped the quarrel, at +Goldfield, Nev. They's two things I'll never forget as long as I pay +the premiums on my insurance policy, and they are the first and second +rounds of that fight. That's as far as the thing went, just two short +frames, but more real scrappin' was had in them few minutes than Europe +will see if Ireland busts loose! Except that they was more principals, +the battle of the Marne would have looked like a chorus men's frolic +alongside of the Ross-Scanlan mêlée. They went at each other like +peeved wildcats and the bell at the end of the first round only seemed +to annoy 'em--they had to be jimmied apart. Ross opened the second +round by knockin' Scanlan through the ropes into the ten-dollar boxes, +but the Kid was back and in there tryin' again before the referee could +find the body to start a count. After beatin' the champ from pillar to +post and hittin' him with everything but the bucket, the Kid rocks him +to sleep with a left swing to the jaw, just before the gong. + +The crowd went crazy. I went in the hole for five thousand bucks and +the Kid went in the movies! + +I had been handlin' Ross before that battle, but after it I wouldn't +have buried him! This guy was a ex-champion then, and I don't want no +ex-nothin' around _me_--unless it's a bill. + +Right after that scrap, Scanlan sent for me and made me a proposition +to look after his affairs for the followin' three years, and the only +time I lost in acceptin' it was caused by the ink runnin' out of my +fountain pen when I was signin' the contract. In them days I had a rep +for bein' able to get the money for my athletes that would make Shylock +look like a free spender. Every time one of _my_ boys performed for +the edification of the mob, we got a elegant deposit before we put a +pen to the articles and we got the balance of the dough before we +pulled on a glove. I never left nothin' to chance or the other guy. +That's what beat Napoleon and all them birds! Of course, they was +several people here and there throughout the country which was more +popular than I was on that account, but which would _you_ rather, have, +three cheers or three bucks? + +Well, that's the way _I_ figured! + +About a month after Scanlan become my only visible means of support, I +signed him up for ten rounds with a bird which said, "What d'ye want, +hey?" when you called him Hurricane Harris, and the next day a guy +comes in to see me in the little trick office I had staked myself to on +Broadway. When he rapped on the door I got up on a chair and took a +flash at him over the transom and seein' he looked like ready money, I +let him come in. He claims his name is Edward R. Potts and that so far +he's president of the Maudlin Moving Picture Company. + +"I am here," he says, "to offer you a chance to make twenty thousand +dollars. Do you want it?" + +"Who _give_ you the horse?" I asks him, playin' safe. "I got to know +where this tip come from!" + +"Horse?" he mutters, lookin' surprised. "I know nothing of horses!" + +"Well," I tells him, "I ain't exactly a liveryman myself, but before I +put any of Kid Scanlan's hard-earned money on one of them equines, I +got to know more about the race than you've spilled so far! What did +the trainer say?" + +He was a fat, middle-aged hick that would soon be old, and he wears +half a pair of glasses over one eye. He aims the thing at me and +smiles. + +"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're talking about!" he says. +"But I fancy it's a pun of some sort! Very well, then, what _did_ the +trainer say?" + +I walked over and laid my arm on his shoulder. + +"Are you endeavorin' to spoof me?" I asks him sternly. "Or have you +got me confused with Abe Levy, the vaudeville agent? Either way you're +losin' time! I don't care for your stuff myself, and if that's your +act, I wouldn't give you a week-end at a movie house!" + +He takes off the trick eye-glass and begins to clean it with a +handkerchief. + +"My dear fellow!" he says. "It is plain that you do not understand the +nature of my proposal. I wish to engage the services of Kid Scanlan, +the present incumbent of the welterweight title. We want to make a +five-reel feature, based on his rise to the championship. I am +prepared to offer you first class transportation to our mammoth studios +at Film City, Cal.; and twenty thousand dollars when the picture is +completed! What do you say?" + +"Have a cigar!" I says, when I get my breath. I throwed a handful of +'em in his lap and give the water cooler a play. + +"No, thanks!" he says, layin' 'em on the desk. "I never smoke." + +"Well," I tells him, "I ain't got a thing to drink in the place, you +gotta be careful here, y'know! But to get back to the movie thing, +what does the Kid have to do for the twenty thousand fish?" + +He takes a long piece of paper from his pocket and lays it down in +front of me. It looked like a chattel mortgage on Mexico, and what +paragraphs didn't commence with "to wit," started off with "do hereby." + +"All that Mr. Scanlan has to do," he explains, "will be told him by our +director at the studios, who will produce the picture. His name is Mr. +Salvatore Genaro. Kindly sign where the cross is marked!" + +"Wait!" I says. "We can't take a railroad ride like that for twenty +thousand, we got to have twenty-five and--" + +"All right!" he butts in. "Sign only on the first line!" + +"Thirty thousand, I meant to say!" I tells him, "because--" + +"Certainly," he cuts me off, handin' over his fountain pen. "Don't use +initials, sign your full name!" + +I signed it. + +"How do I know we get this money?" I asks him. + +"Aha!" he answers. "How do we know that the dawn will come? My +company is worth a million dollars, old chap, and that contract you +have is as good as the money! Be at my office at two this afternoon +and I will give you the tickets. _Adios_ until then!" + +And he blows out of the office. + +I closed down the desk, went outside and climbed into my Foolish Four. +In an hour I was up to the trainin' camp near Rye where Kid Scanlan was +preparin' for his collision with Hurricane Harris. Scanlan is trainin' +for the quarrel by playin' seven up with the room clerk from the Beach +Hotel, and when I bust in the door he takes a look, throws the cards on +the floor and makes a pass at his little pal so's I'll think he's a new +sparrin' partner. I pulled him off and dragged him to one side. + +"How would you like to go in the movies?" I says. + +"Nothin' doin'!" the Kid tells me. "They make my eyes sore!" + +"I don't mean watch 'em!" I explains. "I mean act in 'em! We're goin' +out to the well known Coast this afternoon and you're gonna be a movie +hero for five reels and thirty thousand bucks!" + +"We don't fight Harris?" asks the Kid. + +"No!" I says. "What d'ye mean _fight_! Leave that stuff for the +roughnecks, we're actors now!" + + +We got out to Film City at the end of the week and while there wasn't +no brass band to meet us at the station, there was a sad-lookin' guy +with one of them buckboard things and what at one time was probably a +horse. I never seen such a gloomy lookin' layout in my life; they +reminded me of a rainy Sunday in Philadelphia. The driver comes up to +us and, after takin' a long and searchin' look, says, + +"Which one of you fellers is the pugeylist?" + +"Pugilist?" I says. "What d'ye mean pugilist? We're the new leadin' +men for the stock company here. Pugilist! Ha! Ha! How John Drew +will laugh when I tell him that!" + +He takes a piece of paper from his pocket and reads it. + +"I'm lookin' for Kid Scanlan and Johnny Green," he announces. "One of +'em's supposed to be the welterweight champion, but I doubt it! I +never seen him fight!" + +"Well," I says, "you got a good chance to try for the title, bo, if you +ain't more respectful! I'm Mr. Green and that's Kid Scanlan, the +champ!" + +He looks at the Kid and kinda sneers. + +"All right!" he says. "Git aboard and I'll take you out to Mr. Genaro. +I'll tell you now, though, that if you ain't what you claim, you got to +walk back!" He takes a side glance at the Kid. "Champ, eh?" he +mutters. + +We climb in the buckboard and this guy turns to me and points the whip +at the Kid. + +"He don't look like no pugeylist to me," he goes on, like he's lookin' +for a argument, "let alone a champion! Still looks is deceivin' at +that. Take a crab, for instance--you'd never think from lookin' at it +that you could eat it, would you? No! Git up!" + +Git _up_ was right, because the animal this guy had suspended between +the shafts had laid right down on the ground outside the station, +whilst he was talkin' to us. The noble beast got gamely to its feet at +the word from Gloomy Gus, give a little shiver that rattled the harness +and then turned around to see what its master had drawed from the train +that mornin'. It took a good eyeful and kinda curled up its lip and +sneered at us, showin' its yellow teeth in a sarcastical grin. + +"Hold fast!" remarks Gloomy Gus. "It's rough country here and this +horse is about to do a piece of runnin'!" He takes off his belt and +whales that equine over what would a been the back on a regular horse. +"Step along!" he asks it. + +Well, if they had that ride at Coney Island, they'd have made a fortune +with it in one summer, because as soon as Old Dobbin realized he'd been +hit, he started for South Africa and tried to make it in six jumps! He +folded his long skinny ears back of his neck somewheres and just simply +give himself over to runnin'. We went up hills and down vales that +would have broke an automobile's heart, we took corners on one leg and +creeks in a jump and when I seen the Pacific Ocean loomin' up in the +offing I begin to pray that the thing couldn't swim! Gloomy Gus leans +over and yells in my ear, "Some horse, eh?" + +"Is that what it is?" I hollers back. + +"Well, he's tryin' all right. He's what you could call a runnin' +fool!" We shot past somethin' that was just a black blur for a minute +and then disappeared back in the dust. "What was that?" I yells. + +"Montana!" screams Gloomy Gus, "and--" + +"Ha! Ha!" roars the Kid, openin' his mouth for the first time. +"That's goin' a few! Let me know when we pass Oregon, I got a friend +there!" + +"Montana Bill!" explains Gloomy Gus, frownin' at the Kid. "That's the +only place you can get licker within five miles of Film City!" He +looks at the Kid again and mutters half to himself, "Champion, eh!" + +Then he yanks in the reins and we slow down to about a runaway's pace +right near what looks to be a World's Fair with a big wall around it +and an iron gate in the middle. We shot up to the entrance and the +horse calls it a day and stops, puffin' and blowin' like a fat +piano-mover. + +"Film City!" hollers Gloomy Gus. "Git out here and walk in. Mr. +Genaro's office is right back of the African Desert!" + +I thanked him for bringin' us in alive. He didn't say nothin' to me, +but as he was passin' in the gates I seen him lookin' after the Kid and +shakin' his head. "Champion, hey!" he mumbles. + +This Film City place would have made delerium tremens lay down and +quit. There was Indians, cowboys, cannibals, chorus girls, Japs, +sheriffs, train robbers, and--well, it looked like the place where they +assemble dime novels. A guy goes racin' past us on a horse with a lot +of maniacs, yellin' and shootin', tearin' after him and on the other +side a gang of laborers in tin hats and short skirts is havin' a battle +royal with swords. Three feet from where we're standin' a house is +burnin' down and two guys is sluggin' each other on the roof. We walk +along a little further and run into a private conversation. Some guy +in a new dress suit is makin' love to a dame, while another fellow +stands in front of them and says at the top of his voice, "Remember +now, you're madly in love with her, but father detests the sight of +your face. Ready--hey, camera--all right--wait a minute, wait a +minute, don't wrestle with her, embrace her, will you, _em_brace her!" + +Kid Scanlan takes this all in with his eyes poppin' out of his head and +his mouth as open as a stuss game. + +"Some joint, eh?" he says to me. "This is what I call a _regular_ +cabaret! See if we can get a table near the front!" + +A lot of swell-lookin' dames comes in--well, of course it _was_ some +warm out there, but even at that they was takin' an awful chance on +gettin' pneumonia, and files out of a house on the left and starts to +dance and I had to drag the Kid away bodily. We duck through a side +street, and every time we turn around some guy with a camera yells for +us to get out of the way, but finally we wind up at Mr. Genaro's +office. He ain't in, but a guy that was tells us Genaro's makin' a +picture of Richard the Third, over behind the Street Scene in Tokio. +We breezed over there and we found him. + +Genaro is in the middle of what looks like the chorus of a burlesque +show, only the men is wearin' tights instead of the women. I picked +him out right away because he was the first guy I had seen in the place +in citizen's clothes, outside of the guys with the kodaks. He was +little and fat, lookin' more like a human plum puddin' than anything +else. When we had worked our way through the mob, we saw that he was +shakin' his fist at 'em and bawlin' 'em out. + +"Are you Mr. Genaro?" I asks him. + +"Joosta wait, joosta wait!" he hollers over his shoulder without even +lookin' around. "I'm a ver' busy joosta now! Writa me the letta!" + +"Where d'ye get that stuff?" I yells back, gettin' sore. "D'ye know +who we are?" + +I seen the rest of them gigglin', and Genaro dances around and throws +up his hands. + +"Aha!" he screams, pullin' at his hair. "You maka me crazy! What's a +mat--what you want? Queek, don't make me wait!" + +The Kid growls at him and whispers in my ear, + +"Will I bounce him?" + +"Not yet!" I tells him. "I'm Mr. Green," I says to Genaro, "and this +is Kid Scanlan, welterweight champion of the world, and if you pull any +more of that joosta wait stuff, you'll be able to say you fought him!" + +He drops his hands and smiles. + +"Excuse, please!" he says. "I maka mistake!" he grabs hold of his head +again and groans, "Gotta bunch bonehead here this morning," he goes on, +noddin' to 'em. "Driva me crazy! Shakespeare he see these feller play +Reechard, he joomp out of he'sa grave!" He swings around at them all +of a sudden and makes a face at 'em, "Broadaway star, eh?" he snarls. +"Bah! You maka me seek! Go away for one, two hour. I senda for +you--you all what you calla the bunk!" + +On the level I thought he was gonna bite 'em! + +The merry villagers scatter, and Genaro turns around to us and wipes +his face with a red silk handkerchief. + +"You knowa the piece?" he asks us. "Reechard the Third, Shakespeare?" + +"Not quite!" I says. "What is he--a local scrapper?" + +The Kid butts in and shoves me away. + +"Don't mind this guy," he says to Genaro. "He's nothin' but a igrant +roughneck! _I_ got you right away. I remember in this Richard the +Third thing--they's a big battle in the last act and Dick tells a +gunman by the name of MacDuff to lay off him or he'll knock him for a +goal!" + +"Not lay off!" says Genaro, smiling "Lay on! Lay on, MacDuff!" + +"Yeh?" inquires the Kid. "I thought it was lay off. I only seen the +frolic once. I took off a member of Dick's gang at the Grand Oprey +house, when I was broke in Trenton." + +"Nex' week we start _your_ picture," says Genaro to the Kid. "Mr. Van +Aylstyne he'sa write scenario now. This gonna be great for +you--magnificent! He'sa give you everything! Firsta reel you fall off +a cliff!" + +"Who, me?" hollers the Kid, + +"Si!" smiles Genaro. "Bada man wanna feex you, so you no fighta the +champ! You getta the beeg idea?" + +"What's next?" asks the Kid, frownin'. + +"Ah!" pipes Genaro, rollin' his eyes at the sky. "We giva you the +whole picture! Second reel you get run over by train--fasta mail! You +see? So you no fighta the champ!" + +The Kid looks at me and grabs my arm. + +"This guy's a maniac!" he hollers. "Did you get that railroad thing? +He--" + +Genaro goes right on like he don't hear him. + +"Thirda reel!" he says. "Thirda reel you get hit by two automobiles, +this bada feller try to feex you so you no fighta the champ!" + +"Wait!" I butts in. "You must--" + +"But fiftha reel--aaah!" Genaro don't pay no attention to me, but +kisses his hand at a tree. "Fiftha reel," he says, "she'sa great! Get +everybody excite! You get throw from sheep in ocean, fella shoot at +you when you try sweem, bada fella come along in motorboat, he'sa run +you down! Then you swim five, six, seven mile to land and there dozen +feller beat you with club--so you no fighta the champ!" + +The Kid has sunk down on a chair and he's fannin' himself. His face +was the color of skim milk. + +"What you think?" asks Genaro. "She's a maka fine picture, what?" + +"Great!" I says. "If that guy that wants to fix the Kid so he no +fighta the champ loses out, they can't say he wasn't tryin' anyhow! +Why don't you throw in another reel, showin' the lions devourin' the +Kid--so he no fighta the champ?" + +"That's a good!" Genaro shakes his head. "I spika to Van Aylstyne!" + +He took us up to his office and when we get inside the door they's a +dame sittin' there which would make Venus look like a small-town +soubrette. She looked like these other movie queens would like to! +Whilst we're givin' her the up and down, she smiles at the Kid and he +immediately drops his hat on the floor and knocks over a inkwell. + +"Miss Vincent," says Genaro, "this Mr. Kid Scanlan. He'sa work with +you nex' week. This Mr. Green, hisa fr'en'." + +We shake hands all around and the Kid elbows me to one side. + +"Where are you goin' this afternoon?" he asks the dame. "Anywheres?" + +Genaro raps on the desk. + +"Joosta one minoote!" he calls out. "Mr. Kid Scanlan, I would like--" + +"Joosta wait!" pipes the Kid. "Writa me the letta! I'm ver' busy +joosta now!" He puts one hand on the mantelpiece and drapes himself in +front of the dame. "And you haven't been here long, eh?" he says. + +Genaro frowns for a minute and then he grins and winks at me. + +"Miss Vincent!" he butts in. "You show Mr. Kid Scanlan all around this +afternoon, what? Explain him everything about nex' week we maka his +picture. What you think, no?" + +"Yes!" pipes the Kid grabbin' his hat. "I never been nowheres. Lets +go!" + +The dame smiles some more, and, well, Scanlan must have been born with +a horseshoe in each hand because she takes his arm and they blow. + +Just as they were goin' out the door, in comes Gloomy Gus which brought +us up from the station. He looks at the Kid and this dame goin' out +and he sneers after 'em. + +"Champion!" he mutters, curlin' his lip. "Huh!" + +The next mornin' we meet this guy Van Aylstyne who doped out the stuff +so the Kid "no fighta the champ!" He's a tall, slim, gentle-lookin' +bird, all dressed in white like a Queen of the May or somethin' and +after hearin' him talk I figured my first guess was about right. We +also got to know Edmund De Vronde, one of the leadin' men and the shop +girls' delight, and him and Van Aylstyne were both members of the same +lodge. Whilst we're standin' there talkin' to Genaro, who I found out +was the headkeeper or somethin', along comes Miss Vincent in one of +them trick autos that has a seat for two thin people and a gasoline +tank. Only, you don't sit in 'em, you just stoop, with your knees +jammed up against your chin. She drives this thing right up and stops +where we're standin'. If she ever looked any better, she'd have fell +for herself! + +"I'm going to Long Beach," she sings out, "and I'm going to hit nothing +but the tops of the trees! Come along?" + +De Vronde, Van Aylstyne and the Kid left their marks at the same time, +but you know, my boy was welterweight champ and when that auto buzzed +away from there he went with it. + +"Ugh!" remarks De Vronde. "I loathe those creatures!" He dusts off +his sleeve where the Kid had grabbed it to toss him to one side. "The +fellow struck me!" he says indignantly. + +Van Aylstyne picks up his hat which had fell off in the struggle. + +"Thank Heavens," he tells the other guy, "we will soon be rid of him! +I'll have the script ready for Genaro to-morrow! I never saw such a +vicious assault!" + +They walked away, and I turns to Genaro who had stepped aside for a +minute. + +"Say!" I asks him. "Is this De Vronde guy worth anything to you?" + +"_Sapristi_!" he tells me, makin' a face. "I could keel him! He'sa +wan greata big what you call bunk! He'sa no good! He can't act, he +can do nothing. Joosta got nice face--that's all!" + +"Well," I says, "he won't have no nice face, if he don't lay off the +Kid! If Scanlan hears him make any cracks about him like he just did +now--well, he'll practically ruin him, that's all!" + +After a while the Kid and Miss Vincent comes back and she hurries away +to change her clothes because she's got to work in this Richard the +Third thing. The Kid is all covered with dirt and mud and his face is +all cut up from the flyin' pebbles and sand. + +"Say!" he says to me. "That's some dame, believe me! We passed +everything on the road from here to Long Beach and on the way back we +beat the Sante Fe in by a city block! Come on over and see her work; +she's gonna act in that Richard the Third thing!" + +We breezed over past the African Desert and there's the troupe all +gathered around a guy in his shirt sleeves, who's readin' 'em somethin' +out of a book. One of the camera guys tells me it's Mr. Duke, Genaro's +assistant. + +"A fine piece of Camembert he is, too!" says this guy. "He put me over +on this side to get the battle scene from an angle and tells me to +shoot the minute the mêlée starts in case I don't get his signal. One +of them dames fainted from the heat a minute ago and the rest of 'em go +rushin' around yellin' like a lot of nuts. Naturally I thought the +thing went in the picture and I took forty feet of it before he called +me off! He's gonna report me now and I'm liable to get the gate when +Genaro shows up! I'll _get_ the big stew, though,--watch me!" + +At this stage of the game, this Mr. Duke waves for us to come over. + +"Where's Mr. Genaro?" he wants to know. + +"Search me!" I tells him. "I just left him an hour or so ago and--" + +He hurls down the book and dances around like he's gonna throw a fit or +somethin'. + +"I been all over the place," he yells, "and I can't find him! I want +to get this exterior while the sun is right and there's no Richard or +no Genaro!" + +The Kid, who has been talkin' to Miss Vincent, comes over then and says, + +"What's all the excitement?" + +"Who are you?" asks Duke. + +"We're from New York," I butts in, "and--" + +"Well, sufferin' cats!" hollers Duke. "Why didn't you say so before? +One of you is the man I'm holdin' this picture for!" + +"Why, Genaro says," I begins, "that next week is--" + +"Never mind Genaro!" shrieks Duke. "He ain't here now and I'm +directing this picture! See that sun commencing to get dim? Which one +of you was sent on by Mr. Potts?" + +"This guy here!" I tells him, pointin' to the Kid. "I'm his manager." + +"Carries a manager, does he?" snorts Duke. "Well, run him in the +dressin' room there and get a costume on him. Hurry up, will you--look +at that sun!" + +We beat it on the run for the place he pointed out, and as we started +away I seen him throw out his chest and say to one of the dames, + +"_That's_ the way those stars should be handled all the time! Fussing +over them is a mistake; you must show them at once that no such thing +as temperament will be tolerated! Broadway star, eh? Well, you saw +how _I_ handled him!" + +I didn't quite make that stuff, but I felt that somethin' was wrong +somewheres. Genaro had told me the Kid's picture wasn't to be made for +a week, but we were gettin' thirty thousand for this stunt so I says to +the Kid, + +"Get in there and shed them clothes of yours and I'll beat it over to +the hotel and get your ring togs! They're gettin' ready to fix you so +you no fighta the champ!" + +I beat it back to the trick hotel and got the suitcase with the Kid's +gloves, shoes and trunks in it and it didn't take me five minutes to +get back, but that Duke guy is on my neck the minute he sees me. + +"Will you hurry up?" he hollers, pullin' a watch on me. "Look at that +sun!" + +"He'll be out in a minute now!" I says. "I got a guy in there helpin' +him dress." + +"He knows this stuff all right, doesn't he?" he asks me. "I understand +he's been doing nothing but the one line for years." + +"Knows it?" I laughs. "He's the world's champion; that's good enough, +ain't it?" + +"That's what they all say!" he sneers. "All I hope is that he ain't no +cheap ham! Look at that sun gettin' away from me!" + +While I'm tryin' to dope out what all these birds in tights and with +feathers in their hats has got to do with "How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title," Duke grabs my arm. + +"Drag that fellow out of the dressin' room," he says, "and tell him he +enters from the second entrance where those trees are. He goes right +through the Tower scene--he knows it by heart, I guess. I'll be right +up on that platform there directing and that's where he wants to +face--not the camera!" + +Well, I went into the dressin' room and the Kid is ready. He's got on +a pair of eight ounce gloves, red silk trunks and ring shoes. + +"What do I pull now?" he asks me. + +"Just walk right out from between them trees," I says, "and they'll tip +you off to the rest." + +We sneaked around the scene from the back and stood behind the tree +which Duke had pointed out. A stage hand or somethin' who seemed to be +sufferin' from hysterics told us not to let Duke see us till we entered +the scene, because it was considered bad luck to walk before the camera +first. + +"Clear!" we hear Duke yellin', and then he blows a whistle. "Hey, move +faster there, you extra people, a little ginger! Billy, face center, +can't you! Now, Miss Vincent, register fear--that's it, great! All +right, Richard!" + +"That's you!" pipes the stage hand, and on walks the Kid. He stands in +the middle of the scene like he done many a time in the newspaper +offices back home and strikes a fightin' pose. + +A couple of women shrieks and runs back of the trees hidin' their faces +and Miss Vincent falls in a chair and laughs herself sick. To say the +Kid created a sensation would be puttin' it mild--he was a riot! The +rest of the bunch howls out loud, holdin' their sides and staggerin' up +against each other, and the stage hands rolled around the floor. But +the guy that was runnin' the thing, this Duke person, almost faints, +and then he gets red in the face and jumps down off the platform. + +"What do you mean?" he screams at the Kid. "What do you mean by coming +out before these ladies and gentlemen in that garb? How dare you? Is +that your interpretation of Richard the Third? Have you been drinking +or what?" + +"What's the matter, pal?" asks the Kid, lookin' surprised. "I got to +wear _somethin'_, don't I?" + +Off goes the bunch howlin' again. + +"If this is a joke, sir," yells Duke, "it will be a mighty costly one +for you!" + +This De Vronde has been standin' on the side lookin' on and the Kid, +seein' Miss Vincent, waves a glove at her. She waves back holdin' her +side and smiles. + +"Haw! Haw! Haw!" roars this De Vronde guy. "How droll!" + +The Kid is over to him in two steps. He's seen that everybody is +givin' him the laugh and he realizes he's in wrong somehow, but the +thing has him puzzled. + +"Where d'ye get that 'haw, haw' stuff?" he snarls, stickin' his chin +out in front of De Vronde. + +"Why, you ignorant ass!" sneers De Vronde, out loud, so's Miss Vincent +can hear him. "If you had any brains you'd know!" + +"I don't need no brains!" snaps the Kid, settin' himself. "I got +_this_!" + +And he drops De Vronde with a right hook to the jaw! + +"Boys!" screams Duke, pointin' to the Kid. "Throw that ruffian out!" + +A couple of big huskies makes a dash for the Kid, and I figured I might +as well get in the thing now as later, so I tripped one as he was goin' +past and the Kid bounces the other with a short left. De Vronde jumps +up and hits the Kid over the head with a cane, while Miss Vincent +screams and hollers "Coward!" Then a bunch of supers comes runnin' in +from the back just as the Kid puts De Vronde down for keeps, and in a +minute everybody was in there tryin'. + +Everybody but one guy, and he was turnin' the crank of his camera like +he was gettin' paid by the number of revolutions the thing made. + +While it lasted, it was some fracas, as we say at the studio. It +certainly was a scream to see them guys, all dressed up to play the +life out of Richard the Third, fallin' all over each other to get out +of the way of the Kid's arms and bein' held back by the jam behind 'em. +After the Kid has beat most of them up and I have took care of a few +myself, a whistle blows and they all fall back--and in rushes Genaro. + +"Sapristi!" he hollers. "What you mean eh? What you people do with my +Reechard?" + +Duke tries to see him out of his one good eye. + +"This scoundrel," he pipes, pointin' to the Kid, "came out here to play +Richard the Third costumed like that!" + +Genaro looks from me to the Kid and grabs his head. + +"What?" he yells. "That feller want to play Reechard? Ho, ho! You +maka me laugh! You're crazy lika the heat! That's what you call +fighting champion of the world! He'sa Mr. Kid Scanlan. We maka hisa +picture nex' week!" + +Duke gives a yell and falls in a chair. + +I pulls on my coat and wipes my face with a handkerchief. + +"Yes," I says, "and they just tried to fix him so he no fighta the +champ!" + +"Zowie!" pipes Duke, sprawled out in the chair, "I thought he was +Roberts, the man we wired to come on from Boston! What in the name of +Charlie Chaplin will we do now? Potts will be here to-morrow to see +this picture and you know what it means, if it isn't made!" + +The Kid is over talkin' to Miss Vincent and Genaro calls him over. + +"_Viola_!" he tells him. "You see what you do? You spoil the greata +picture, the actor, the everything! To-morrow Mr. Potts he'sa come +here. 'Where's a Reechard the Third, Genaro?' he'sa wanna know. I +tella him--then, good-by everybody!" + +"Everything would have been O.K.," says the Kid, pointin' to De Vronde +who's got a couple of dames workin' over him with smellin' salts. +"Everything would have been O.K. at that, if Stupid over there hadn't +gimme the haw, haw!" + +We go back to the dressing-room and the Kid gets on his clothes. That +night, findin' that we was as welcome in Film City as smallpox, we went +over to Frisco and saw the town. + +When we come back the next mornin' and breeze in the gates, the first +thing we see is Gloomy Gus that drove us up from the station. + +"Say!" he sings out. "You fellers are gonna get it good! The boss is +here." + +"Yeh?" says the Kid. "Where's Miss Vincent?" + +"Talkin' to the boss!" he answers. "I don't believe you're no fighter, +either!" + +"Where was you yesterday?" I asks him. + +"Mind yer own business!" he snaps. He gives the Kid the up and down. +"Champion of the world!" he sneers. "Huh!" + +"Go 'way!" the Kid warns him. "I got enough work yesterday!" + +"I think you're a big bluff!" persists the gloomy guy, puttin' up his +hands and circlin' around the Kid. "Come on and fight or acknowledge +yore master!" + +He makes a pass at the Kid and the Kid steps inside of it and drops +him, just as a big auto comes roarin' past and stops. Out hops friend +Potts, the guy that practically give us our start in the movies. In +other words, the thirty thousand dollar kid! + +"Well, well!" he pipes, lookin' at the gloomy guy on the turf and then +at us. "What does this mean, sir? Are you trying to annihilate all my +employees? Do you know you cost me a small fortune yesterday by +ruining that Richard the Third picture?" + +"I'm sorry, boss," the Kid tells him, proddin' Gloomy Gus carelessly +with his foot, "but all your hired men jumped at me at once and a guy +has to protect himself, don't he?" + +"Nonsense!" grunts Potts. "You assaulted Mr. De Vronde and temporarily +disabled several of my best people! I had made all arrangements for +the release of that Shakespeare picture in two days, and you have put +me in a terrible hole!" + +"Now, listen," I butts in, "I tried to--" + +"Not a word!" he cuts me off, wavin' his hands. "One of the camera +men, another infernal idiot, kept turning the crank while this +disgraceful brawl was at its height and I have proof of your villainy +on film! I'll use it as a basis to sever my contract with you and--" + +"Slow up!" I says. "If you lay down on the thirty thousand iron men, +I'll pull a suit on you!" + +Along comes a guy and touches Potts on the arm. + +"They're waiting for you in the projecting room," he says. + +"Come with me--both of you!" barks Potts, "and see for yourself the +damage you caused!" + +We followed him around to a little dark room with three or four chairs +in it and a sheet on one wall. De Vronde, Miss Vincent, Duke and +Genaro are there waitin' for us. + +Well, they start to show the picture, and everything is all right up to +the time the Kid busted into the drama. Now I hadn't seen nothin' out +of the way at the time it actually happened, but here in this little +room it was a riot when they showed it on the sheet. You could see +Scanlan wallop De Vronde and then in another second the massacre is on +full blast! + +On the level, it was the funniest thing I'd seen in a long time. A guy +with lockjaw would have to laugh at it. Here was the Kid knockin' 'em +cold as fast as they come on, with their little trick hats and the pink +silk tights. There was a pile of Shakespeare actors a foot deep all +around him as far as you could see. Potts is laughin' louder than +anybody in the place, and when they finally shut the thing off he slaps +the Kid on the back. + +"Great!" he hollers. "Wonderful! Who directed that?" + +"_I_ did!" pipes Duke, throwin' out his chest. "Some picture, eh?" + +"Joosta one minoote!" says Genaro, wakin' up, "joosta one minoote! It +was under my supervision, Mr. Potts! I feexa the--" + +"Cut that strip of film off!" Potts interrupts, "and take four more +reels based on the same idea! Get somebody to write a scenario around +a fighter busting into the drama and playing Shakespeare! It's never +been done, and if the rest of it is as funny as that it will be a +knockout!" + +"But Reechard!" says Genaro. "What of heem?" + +"Drop it!" snaps Potts. "Everybody get to work on this and I'll stay +here till it's finished!" + +I looked around and pipe the Kid--over talkin' to Miss Vincent, of +course. + +"Say!" he wants to know. "Do we go to Oakland in that rabbit-chaser of +yours this afternoon, Miss Vincent?" + +"Sir!" butts in De Vronde. "This lady and I are conversing!" + +"Now listen, Cutey!" smiles the Kid. "You know what happened +yesterday, don't you?" + +De Vronde turns pale and Miss Vincent giggles. + +"Of course we're going to Oakland!" she laughs. "I'm going to be your +leading woman next week in 'How Kid Scanlan Won the Title.'" + +"Suits me!" says the Kid. "But say, on the level now--I'm there +forty-seven ways on that Shakespeare thing, ain't I?" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +EAST LYNCH + +Success has ruined more guys than failure ever will. It's like a Santa +Cruz rum milk punch on an empty stomach--there's very few people can +stand it. Many a guy that's a regular fellow at a hundred a month, +becomes a boob at a hundred a week. What beat Napoleon, Caesar and +Nero--failure? No, success! Give the thing the once over some time +and you'll see that I'm right. + +Success is the large evenin' with the boys at the lodge and failure is +the mornin' after. As a matter of fact, they're twins. Often you can +be a success without knowin' it, so if you been a failure all your life +accordin' to your own dope, cheer up. But when you get up to the top +where you can look down at all these other guys tryin' to sidestep the +banana peels of life and climb up with you, knock off thinkin' what a +big guy you are for a minute and give ten minutes to thinkin' what a +tough time you had gettin' there. Give five minutes more to ruminatin' +on how long the mob remembers a loser and you'll find it the best +sixteen minutes you ever spent in your life. + +In these days when the world is just a great big baby yellin' for a new +toy every second, any simp can beat his way to the top. The real stunt +is _stayin' there_ after you arrive! + +Kid Scanlan was a good sample of that. When the Kid was fightin' for +bean money and the exercise, he never spent nothin' but the evenin' and +very little of that. He didn't know whether booze was a drink or a +liniment and the only ladies he was bothered about was his mother. But +when he knocked out One-Punch Ross for the title and eased himself into +the movies, it was all different. He begin to spend money like a +vice-investigating committee, knock around with bartenders and give in +to all the strange desires that hits a guy with his health and a +bankroll. I stood by and cheered for a while until he crashes in love +with this movie queen, Miss Vincent, that got more money a start than +the Kid did in a season and more letters from well wishin' males than a +newly elected mayor. Then I stepped in and saved the Kid just before +he become a total loss. + +I was standin' by the African Desert one day watchin' them take a +picture called "Rapacious Rupert's Revenge," when the Kid comes over +and calls me aside. Since he had become a actor he had gave himself up +to dressin' in panama hats, Palm Beach suits and white shoes. He +reminded me of the handsome young lieutenant in a musical comedy. +Every time I seen him in that outfit I expected to hear him burst into +some song like, "All hail, the Queen comes thither!" Know what I mean? + +Well, havin' lured me away under the shade of some palm trees, the Kid +tells me he's goin' over to Frisco on a little shoppin' expedition, and +he wants me to come with him. I says I can't drink a thing because I +have had a terrible headache since the night before when him and me and +some camera men went to Montana Bill's and toyed with the illegal brew +for a few hours. + +"That last round," I says, "which I'll always remember because it come +to six eighty-five, was what ruined me. The bartender must have gone +crazy and put booze in them cocktails, because I've had that headache +ever since!" + +"It ain't the cocktails that give you the headache," the Kid tells me, +"it was the check. And you must have had a bun on before that, anyhow, +because you paid it! But that's got nothin' to do with this here trip +to Frisco. I'm not goin' to stop anywheres for no powders. I'm gonna +get somethin' I've needed for a long time!" + +"What is it," I asks him, "a clean collar?" + +"I wish you'd save that comedy for some rainy Sunday," he says; "that +stuff of yours is about as funny as a broken arm! Since I been out +here with these swell actors, I been changin' my clothes so often that +I'll bet my body thinks I'm kiddin' it. Stop knockin' and come over to +Frisco with me and--" + +I don't know what else he was goin' to say, because just at that minute +a Kansas cyclone on wheels come between us and I come to in a ditch +about five feet from where the Kid is tryin' to see can he really stand +on his head. When I had picked up enough ambition to get to my feet, I +went over and jacked up the Kid. About half a mile up the road the +thing which had attacked us is turnin' around. + +"Run for your life!" I yells to the Kid. "It's comin' back!" + +Before we could pick our hidin' places, the thing has drawed up in +front of us and we see it's one of them trick autos known to the trade +as racin' cars. I recognized it right away as belongin' to Miss +Vincent. The owner was in the car and beside her was Edmund De Vronde, +the shop-girls' delight. The Kid and De Vronde had took to each other +from the minute they first met like a ferret does to a rat. It was a +case of hate at first sight. So you can figure that this little +incident did nothin' to cement the friendship. Miss Vincent leaps out +of the thing and comes runnin' over to us. + +"Good Heavens!" she says. "You're not hurt, are you?" + +She's lookin' right past me and at the Kid like it made little or no +difference whether _I_ was damaged or not. + +The Kid throws half an acre of California out of his collar and removes +a few pebbles and a cigar butt from his ear. + +"No!" he growls, with a sarcastical smile. "Was they many killed?" + +She takes out a little trick silk handkerchief and wipes off his face +with it. + +"I meant to step on the foot brake," she explains, "and I must have +stepped on the gas by mistake!" + +"You must have stepped on the dynamite," I butts in, "because it blowed +me into the ditch!" + +The Kid shakes a bucket or so of sand out of his hair and looks over at +the car where De Vronde is examin' us through a pair of cheaters and +enjoyin' himself scandalously. + +"I see you got Foolish with you," says the Kid to Miss Vincent. +"What's the matter--are you off me now?" + +She smiles and wipes some mud off the Kid's collar. + +"Why, no," she tells him. "Genaro is putting on 'The Escapes of Eva' +this morning and I'm playing the lead opposite Mr. De Vronde. I +happened to pick him up on the road and I'm bringing him in, that's +all." + +"Yeh?" says the Kid, still lookin' over at the car. "What are _you_ +laughin' at, Stupid?" he snarls suddenly at De Vronde. + +De Vronde give a shiver and the glasses fell off in the bottom of the +car. While he was stoopin' down to look for 'em, the Kid turns to Miss +Vincent. + +"I only wish he had been drivin' the thing," he says, "because then I'd +have some excuse for bouncin' him! On the level, now," he goes on, +winkin' at her, "he _was_ drivin' the thing, wasn't he?" + +"Oh, no!" she answers. "I was at the wheel." + +The Kid frowns and thinks for a minute. + +"Well," he says finally, takin' another look at De Vronde, "ain't the +brakes or somethin' where he was sittin'?" + +"No!" she tells him, grabbin' him by the arm. "Please don't lose your +head now and start a fuss! I'm awfully sorry this happened, but as +long as neither of you were hurt and--" + +"It didn't do me no _good_, that's a cinch!" butts in the Kid, with a +meanin' look at his spoiled scenery. He walks over to the car and +glares up at De Vronde. "Hey!" he snarls. "What d'ye mean by bein' in +a automobile that runs over me, eh?" + +De Vronde moves as far over as the seat will let him, and then falls +back on prayer. + +"I must decline to enter any controversy with you," he pipes, after a +minute. "You were standing in the right of way and--" + +The Kid grins and holds up his hand. His face has lighted all up and +he's lickin' his lips like he always did in the ring when he seen the +other guy was pickin' out a place to fall. He's walked around to where +De Vronde had been sittin' and piped a little handle stickin' up. + +"What's this?" he calls to Miss Vincent, who's climbin' in the other +side. + +"That's just the oil pump," she says. + +The Kid suddenly reaches up, grabs De Vronde by the arm and jerks him +out of the car. + +"You big stiff!" he roars. "Why didn't you pump that oil, hey? If you +had done that, the thing wouldn't have hit us! I knowed it was all +your fault--you deliberately laid off that pump, hopin' we'd get +killed!" + +With that he starts an uppercut from the ground, but I yanked him away +just as De Vronde murmurs, "Safety first!" and takes a dive. Miss +Vincent gets out and gives me a hand with the Kid, and De Vronde sits +up and menaces us with his cane. + +"That isn't a bit nice!" Miss Vincent frowns at the Kid. "That's +ruffianly! You never should have struck him!" + +"I didn't hit him!" yells the Kid. "The big tramp quit! If I had hit +him he wouldn't be gettin' up." + +He starts over again, but I held him until she has climbed into the car +with De Vronde and they shoot up the road. Just before they +disappeared, De Vronde turns around in the seat and shakes his finger +at us. + +"Only the presence of the lady," he calls, "saves you from my wrath!" + +"Come on!" says the Kid, grabbin' my arm. "Let's get the next train +for Frisco, before I run after that guy and flatten him! Believe me," +he goes on, lookin' up the road after the car, "I'll get that bird +before the day is over if I have to bust a leg!" + +And that's just what he did--both! + +All the way over in the train I tried to work the third degree on the +Kid to find out what he was goin' to buy, but there was nothin' doin'. +He stalled me off until we pull into the town and then he takes me to a +street that was so far from the railroad station I come near castin' a +shoe on the way over. About half way down this boulevard there's a +garage and the Kid stops in front of it. + +"Wait here!" he tells me. "And don't let nobody give you no babies to +mind. I'll be right out!" + +He slips inside and I'm lookin' the joint over when a big sign catches +my eye. I took one good flash at the thing, and then I starts right in +after the Kid. A friend of mine in New York had gone into a place with +a sign on it like that one time and made a purchase. Six months later +when he come out of the hospital, he claimed the bare smell of gasoline +made him faint Here's what it said on that sign, + + J. MARKOWITZ + + USED AND NEARLY NEW AUTOS + + FOR SALE + + +It was kinda dark inside and it takes me a minute to get my bearin's, +but finally I see the Kid and a snappy dressed guy standin' in front of +what I at first thought was a Pullman sleeper. When I get a close up, +though, I find it's only a tourin' car. It was the biggest automobile +I ever seen in my life; a sightseein' bus would have looked like a +runabout alongside of it. There was one there and it did! The thing +hadn't been painted since the _Maine_ was blowed up, and you could see +the guy that had been keepin' it was fond of the open air, because +there was samples of mud from probably all over the world on it. + +"You could believe it, you're gettin' it a practically brand new car!" +the young feller is tellin' the Kid. "The shoes are in A number one +condition--all they need is now vulcanizin', and Oi!--how that car +could travel!" + +"Just a minute!" I butts in. "Before you make this sale, I want to +speak to my friend here." + +Both him and the Kid glares at me, and the Kid pushes me aside. + +"Lay off!" he says. "I know just what you're gonna say. There's no +use of you tryin' to discourage me, because I'm gonna buy a car. Here +I am makin' all kinds of money and I might as well be a bum!--no +automobile or nothin'. I should have had a car long ago; all the big +leaguers own their own tourin' cars. There's no class to you any more, +if you don't flit from place to place in your own bus!" + +"Yeh?" I comes back. "Well, Washington never had no car, but that +didn't stop _him_ from gettin' over! I never heard of Columbus gettin' +pinched for speedin' and Shakespeare never had no trouble with +blowouts. Yet all them birds was looked on as the loud crash in their +time. What's the answer to that?" + +In butts I. Markowitz, shovin' his hat back on his ears. + +"That brings us right down to the present!" he says. "And I could tell +you why none of your friends had oitermobiles. Cars was too expensive +in them days--a millionaire even would have to talk it over with his +wife before they should buy one. But now, almost they give them away! +Materials is cheaper, in Europe the war is over and now competition +is--is--more! That's why I'm able to let your friend have this factory +pet here for eight hundred dollars. A bargain you ask me? A man never +heard a bargain like that!" + +"Don't worry!" I tells him. "Nobody will ever hear about it from me. +If you made him a present of it and throwed in the garage, it would +still be expensive!" + +"Who's buyin' this car?" snarls the Kid. "You or me?" + +"Not guilty!" I says. "If you got to have a car, why don't you buy a +new one?" + +"This is the same as new!" pipes I. Markowitz. + +"Speak when you're spoken to, Stupid!" I says. + +"Don't start nothin' here," the Kid tells me, pullin' me away. "I +don't want none of them new cars. They're too stiff and I might go out +and hit somebody the first crack out of the box. I want one that's +been broke in." + +"Well," I laughs, "that's what you're gettin', believe me! That there +thing has been broke in and out!" I turns to I. Markowitz. "What make +is the old boiler?" I asks him. + +"Boiler he calls it!" he says, throwin' up his hands and lookin' at the +ceilin'. "It's an A. G. F. I suppose even you know what an A number +one car that is, don't you?" + +"No!" I answers. "But I know what A. G. F. means." + +He falls. + +"What?" he wants to know. + +"Always Gettin' Fixed!" I tells him. "They make all them used cars. I +know a guy had two of them and between 'em they made a fortune for +three garages and five lawyers! How old is it?" + +"Old!" says I. Markowitz, recovering "Who said it was old? Your wife +should be as young as that car! It was turned in here last week, only +eight short days from the factory. The owner was sudden called he +should go out of town and--" + +"And he went somewheres and got an automobile to make the trip," I cuts +him off, "and left this thing here!" + +"Don't mind him!" says the Kid, gettin' impatient. "Gimme a receipt." +He digs down for the roll. + +While I. Markowitz is countin' the money with lovin' fingers, I went +around to one side of the so called auto and looked at the speedometer. +One flash at the little trick clock was ample. + +"Stop!" I yells, glarin' at him. "How long did you say this car had +been out of the factory?" + +"Right away he hollers at me!" says I. Markowitz to the Kid. "A week." + +"Well," I tells him, "all I got to say is that the bird that had it +must have been fleein' the police! He certainly seen a lot of the +world, but I can't figure how he slept. He was what you could call a +motorin' fool. It says on this speedometer here, 45,687 miles and if +that guy did it in a week, I got to hand it to him! I'll bet he's so +nutty over speed that he's goin' around now bein' shot out of cannons +from place to place, eh?" + +I. Markowitz gets kinda balled up and blows his nose twice. + +"That must be the--the--motor number!" he stammers. + +"Sure!" nods the Kid. "Don't mind him, he's always got the hammer out. +Count that change and gimme a receipt." + +"Wait!" I says. "Gimme one more chance to save you from givin' +yourself the work. Have you heard the motor turn over? Does the +clutch slip in all right? Do the brakes work? Has the--" + +"Say!" butts in the Kid. "What d'ye think I been doin'--workin' here +at nights? Don't mind him," he tells I. Markowitz, who ain't. "Hurry +up with that receipt!" + +"How is the motor?" I asks that brigand. "Tell me that, will you?" + +"Convalescent!" he sneers, tuckin' the Kid's bankroll away. + +"Some motor, eh?" pipes the Kid. "And it's got a one-man top on it +besides, ain't it?" he asks I. Markowitz. + +"Why not?" says he. "Everything new and up to date you would find on +this car which only yesterday I could have sold to a feller for a +thousand dollars!" + +After pullin' that, he walks over to the thing and climbs in the back. +"An example!" he says. "If you're alone in the car and there's nobody +with you, you only should stand up on the seat and pull up the top like +this, if it comes up a rain. Then you--" + +I didn't hear the rest on account of him havin' trouble makin' his +voice travel from under the seat, because he reached up and pulled +somethin' here and jerked somethin' there--and that one-man top made +good! I thought at first the ceilin' of the joint had fell in, and +I'll bet I. Markowitz _knowed_ it had, but then I seen it was only the +thing that keeps the rain out of the car. Me and the Kid drags him +out, and as soon as he gets on his feet and felt to see if he had his +watch and so forth, he wipes the dirt out of his eyes and turns on me. + +"It's a wonder I ain't now dead on account from you?" he snarls. "I +suppose you're one of them wise fellers from New Jersey, which they got +to be showed everything, heh?" + +"Missouri!" I says. "Not New Jersey. If I was from New Jersey, I +would probably be fightin' with the Kid to let _me_ buy the car!" + +"It's got a self-commencer on it, too!" yelps the Kid, climbin' into +the front seat. "See--lookit!" He presses a button with his foot and +a laughin' hyena or somethin' in the hood moans a couple of times and +then passes away. + +"The first time I wouldn't be surprised you should have to crank it," +says I. Markowitz. "The motor has been standin' so long--I mean--that +is--speakin' of motors, I think that one is maybe a little cold! Once +she gets runnin' everything will be A number one!" + +I goes around the front of the thing and stoops down. + +"Put her on battery, if there's any on there," I calls to the Kid, "and +I'll spin the motor!" + +I. Markowitz steps over and lays his hand on my arm. His face is as +serious as prohibition. + +"Its only fair I should tell you," he whispers, "that she kicks a +little!" + +I give him a ungrateful look and grabs hold of the crank. After +turnin' the thing ninety-four times without gettin' nothin' but a +blister on my thumb, I quit. + +"Nothin' stirrin'," I remarks to I. Markowitz. + +"Believe me, that's funny!" he tells me, shakin' his head like he had +ball bearin's in his neck. + +"Ain't it?" I says. "Are you positive they's a motor inside there?" + +He makes a funny little noise in his throat and not knowin' him long, I +didn't know what he meant. There's a big husky in overalls walkin' by +with plenty of medium oil on his face and a monkey wrench in his hand. +I. Markowitz hisses at him, and they exchange jokes in some foreign +language for a minute and then the new-comer grabs hold of that crank +like the idea was to see if he could upset the car in three twists. He +gives it a turn, and I guess the Kid had got to monkeyin' around them +little buttons on the steerin' wheel because it went off like a cannon. +First, there was a great big bang! And then a cloud of smoke rolls out +of the back of the car and the bird that had wound the thing up come to +in an oil can, half way across the floor. The Kid fell off the seat +and me and I. Markowitz busted the hundred yard record to the front +door. + +"That was a rotten trick, wasn't it?" I asks him when we stopped. + +"What do you talk tricks?" he pants. + +"Why," I tells him, "puttin' that dynamite in the hood!" + +"That wasn't dynamite," he says. "She only backfired a little. I +wouldn't be surprised if it turned out there was, now, too much air in +the carburetor. The only reason I ran out here is because I seen it +passin' a friend of mine and--" + +"I know," I cuts him off. "I seen it too!" + +We go back to the Kid and his play toy, and he's leanin' up against the +side of it rubbin' his shoulder and scowlin'. + +"What kind of stuff was that, eh?" he growls at I. Markowitz. "I liked +to broke my neck!" + +"'Snothin'!" says he, pattin' the Kid on the back and smilin'. "You +could do that with a new car, you could take my word for it. It's all, +now, experience!" He looks around. "Herschel!" he hollers. + +It turns out that Herschel is the guy that had wound the thing up, and +he gets out of the oil can and comes over, mutterin' to himself and +glarin' at all of us. He takes off the hood and stalls around it with +a hammer and a monkey wrench for a minute, still mutterin' away, and +you could see he wasn't wishin' us no luck. Finally, he puts the hood +on again and walks around to the crank. + +"As soon as you could hear it buzz," he grunts at the Kid, "you should +give her some gas." + +I stood aside and picked out my exit, and I. Markowitz seen his friend +passin' again so he started for the door. The Kid says we're both +yellah and climbs gamely back into the seat. Herschel stops mutterin' +long enough to give the crank a turn, which same he did. This time +there was no shots fired, but the thing begins the darndest racket I +ever heard in my life. A boiler factory would have quit cold alongside +of that motor and a cavalry charge would have gone unnoticed on the +same floor. I asked I. Markowitz what broke, and he says nothin' but +that the noise is caused by the motor bein' so powerful, fifty horse +power, he claimed. + +"You can't tell me," I says, backin' away from the thing, "that no +fifty horses could make that much noise, not even if they was crazy! +The guy that brought that in here must have tied a lot of machine guns +together with a fuse and Stupid there set 'em off when he turned the +crank!" + +He runs around to the side where the Kid is and shuts down the gas and +I seen half of Frisco lookin' in the door, figurin' the Japs had got +started at last, or else somebody was puttin' on a dress rehearsal of +the Civil War. + +"Ain't she a beauty?" screams I. Markowitz to the Kid, barely makin' +himself heard over the din. "Give a listen how that motor turns +over--not a break or a miss and as smooth like glass! That's hittin' +on six, all right!" + +"I'm glad to hear that," I says. "I'm glad it's only six, because the +thing will have to quit pretty soon. There ain't no six nothin's could +stand up under that hittin' much longer!" + +I. Markowitz steps on the runnin' board and holds on with both hands. +He had to, because that motor had got the car doin' a muscle dance. + +"Where d'ye want to go?" he yells to the Kid. "I'll have Herschel take +you out so he should show you everything." + +"Tell him to wash his face instead!" the Kid hollers back. "I don't +need nobody to show me nothin' about a car. Come on!" he yells at me. +"All aboard for Film City!" + +"Ha! Ha!" I sneers. "Rave on! I wouldn't get in that thing for +Rockefeller's bankroll!" + +I had to holler at the top of my voice to drown out that motor. + +"C'mon!" yells the Kid. "Don't be so yellah--you got everybody lookin' +at you. She's all right now, and as soon as she gets warmed up she'll +be rollin' along in great shape!" + +"Yes!" I says. "And so will I--in a day coach of the Sante Fe!" + +Well, he coaxed, threatened and so-forthed me, until finally I took a +chance and climbed in beside him. The populace at the doors give three +cheers and wished us good luck as we banged and rattled through their +midst. We went on down the street, attractin' no more attention than +the German army would in London, and every time we turned a new corner +people run out of their houses to see was there a parade comin'. We +passed several sure enough automobiles and they sneered at us, and one +of them little flivvers got so upset by the noise that it blowed out a +tire as we went by. Finally, we come to the city line and the Kid says +he figures it's about time to see can the thing travel. He monkeys +around them strange buttons on the steerin' wheel, pulls a handle here +and there and presses a lever with his foot. The minute he did that we +got action! That disappearin' cannon in the back went off three times +and I bet it blowed up all the buildin's in the block. There was a +horse and buggy passin' at the time and the guy that was drivin' it +don't know what happened yet, because at the first bang, that horse +started for the old country and it must have been Lou Dillon--believe +me, it could run! I looked back and watched it. A big cloud of smoke +rolls up from the back of the car, and I seen guys runnin' out of +stores and wavin' to us with their fists and then a couple of brave and +bold motorcycle cops jumps on their fiery steeds and falls in behind. + +I guess the ex-owner of this bus was on the level at that about doin' +them forty-five thousand miles in a week, because this car could have +beat a telegram across the country, "when she got warmed up!" as I. +Markowitz says. Every one of them six cylinders was in there trying +and when they worked together like little pals and forgot whatever +private quarrels they had, the result was _speed_, believe me! The Kid +was hangin' on to the steerin' wheel and havin' the time of his young +life and I was hangin' on to the seat and wishin' I had listened to +that insurance agent in New York. We come to the top of a hill and as +we start down the other side the prize boob of the county is waterin' +the pavement around his real estate. When he hears us, he drops the +hose which makes it all wet in front of us. + +"Hold tight!" screams the Kid to me. "We're gonna do a piece of +skiddin'. I forgot to get chains!" + +Just about then we hit the damp spot and the Kid puts on the brakes. +Sweet Cookie! You should have seen that car! It must have got sore at +the man with the hose and went crazy, because it made eight complete +turns tryin' to get at him and the poor simp was too scared to run. +Finally the thing gives it up and shoots down to the bottom of the +hill. We hit a log and I hit the one-man top. Then the motor calls it +a day and stops dead. The Kid hops out and walks around to the crank. +He gives it a couple of turns and it turns right back at him. He grabs +it again and it was short with a left hook to the jaw, and then the Kid +shakes his head and takes off one side of the hood. He sticks his hand +down inside and pulls out a little brown thing that looks like a cup +with a cover on it. + +"No wonder she stopped!" he says, holdin' it up. "Look what I just +found in here." + +I give it the once over. + +"What d'ye think of that, eh?" he says. "It's a wonder she run at all! +I'll bet that boob mechanic left that in there when he started us off +at the garage." He throws the thing in a ditch and puts the hood on. +"Now," he says, "we're off for Film City!" + +He grabs hold of the crank and gives it about eleven whirls, but there +ain't a thing doin' and while we're stuck there like that, along comes +a guy in another car. + +"Can I help you fellows out?" he hollers. + +"Yes!" I yells back. "Have you got a rope?" + +He comes over and looks at the thing. + +"What seems to be the trouble?" he asks the Kid. + +"Nothin' in particular," the Kid tells him. "She's a great little car +only we can't get her goin'." + +"Have you got gas?" asks the stranger. + +"Plenty!" says the Kid. "D'ye think I would try to run a car without +gasoline?" + +"I don't know," says the other guy. "I never seen you before! Is your +spark all right?" + +"A number one!" pipes the Kid. + +"And she won't run?" he asks. + +"She won't run!" we both says together. + +"Hmph!" he snorts, scratchin' his head. He opens the hood and fusses +around on both sides for a minute and then he rubs the side of his nose +with his finger. He looks like he was up against a tough proposition. + +"How far have you run this car?" he asks the Kid finally. + +"All the way from Frisco," answers the Kid. + +"Like this?" he says, pointin' to the motor. + +"No!" I cuts in. "It was movin'." + +"Why you couldn't have gone three feet with this car!" he busts out +suddenly. "I never seen nothin' like this before in my life!" + +"Why don't you go out at nights, then?" growls the Kid, gettin' sore. +"Stop knockin' and tell us what's the matter with it." + +"There ain't nothin' the matter with it," says the other guy with an +odd little grin. "Not a thing--_only it ain't got no carburetor in it, +that's all_!" + +If he figured on creatin' a sensation on that remark--and from the way +he said it, he did--he lost the bet. The Kid just gives him the baby +stare and shrugs his shoulders like it's past him. + +"No which?" he says. + +"Carburetor!" explains the native. "The little cup where your gasoline +mixes with the air to start the motor." + +The Kid claps his hands together and yells, + +"That little crook back in Frisco must have held out on me!" + +But I had been doin' some thinkin' and I looks the Kid in the eye, + +"What does this carburetor thing look like?" I asks the other guy. + +He describes it to me, and when he got all through I gives the Kid +another meanin' look and walks over to the ditch. After pawin' around +in the mud for a while I found the little cup the Kid had throwed away. + +"Is this it?" I asks the native. + +"It is," he says. "What was it doin' over there?" + +"It must have fell off!" answers the Kid quickly, kickin' at me to keep +quiet. + +Well, this guy finally fixes us up and about an hour later we hit the +little road that leads into Film City, without havin' no further +mishaps except the noise from that motor. About half a mile from the +gates I seen a familiar lookin' guy standin' in the middle of the road +and wavin' his hands at us. + +"Slow up!" I says to the Kid. "Here's Genaro!" + +The Kid reaches down to the side of his seat and yanks a handle that +was stickin' up. It come right off in his hand and we kept right on +goin'. + +"That's funny!" says the Kid, holdin' up the handle and lookin' at it +like it's the first one he ever seen. "We should have stopped right +away--that's the emergency brake!" + +He stamps on the floor with his foot a couple of times and shuts off +the gas. We drift right on, and, if Genaro had had rheumatism, he +would have been killed outright. As it was, he jumped aside just in +time and the car comes to a stop of its own free will about twenty feet +past him down the road. + +"What's a mat?" yells Genaro, rushin' up to us. "Why you no stoppa the +car when you see me?" + +"Why don't they stop prohibition?" I hollers back at him. "We must +have lost the stopper off this one, we--" + +But he runs around the other side to where the Kid is sitting examinin' +all them handles and buttons. + +"_Sapristi_!" he yells at the Kid. "Where you go, Meester Kid Scanlan? +Everybody she's a look for you--Meester Potts he'sa want you right +away! We starta firsta reel of your picture to-day. Everybody she'sa +got to wait for you!" + +"Keep your shirt on!" growls the Kid. "You told me this mornin' I had +lots of time, didn't you?" + +Genaro grabs hold of a tree and does a little dance. + +"Aha!" he remarks to the sky. "He'sa make me crazee! What you care +what I tole you this a morning? Joosta now I want you queek! You maka +mucha talk with me while Meester Potts and everybody she'sa wait for +you!" + +"Well," says the Kid. "Get in here and we'll go there right away." + +Genaro climbs in the back of the car. + +"Hurry up!" he says, holdin' his ears. "Anything so she'a stop that +terrible noise. Hurry up!" + +"I'll do that little thing!" pipes the Kid--and we was off. + +I climbed over the seat and in the back with Genaro so's he wouldn't +feel lonesome, and, so's if the Kid hit anything, I'd have a little +more percentage in my favor. Genaro seems to be sore about something +and to make conversation I ask him what's the matter. + +"Everything she's the matter!" he tells me, while the Kid keeps his +foot on the gas and we bump and clatter along the road. "Everything +she's the matter! I work all morning on lasta reel of 'The Escapes of +Eva.' Got two hundred extra people stand around do nothing. De +Vronde, the bigga bunk, he's a play lead with Miss Vincent." He stops +and kisses his hand at a tree we was passing "Ah!" he goes on. "She'sa +fina girl! Some time maybe I ask her--pardone, I talka too fast! +Lasta reel De Vronde he'sa get what you call lynched. They putta rope +around he'sa neck and he's a stand under bigga tree. Joosta as they +pulla rope to keel him, Miss Vincent," he throws another kiss at a +tree. "Ah! sucha fina girl!" he whispers at me rollin' his eyes. +"Sometime I--pardone, everytime I forget! Miss Vincent she'sa come +along on horse and sava he'sa life--you see?" + +"I got you!" I tells him. "Then what happens?" + +"_Sapristi_!" he says. "That's all! What you want for five reels? +But thisa morning, Meester Potts he'sa come up and watch. He'sa +president of company and knows much about money, but acting--bah! he'sa +know nothing! Gotta three year old boy he'sa know more! He'sa standa +there and smile and rub he'sa hands together lika barber while we taka +lasta reel. Everything she'sa fine till we come to place where De +Vronde he'sa get lynch and Miss Vincent--ah!--she'sa come up on horse +and sava him. Then Meester Potts he'sa rush over and stoppa the +cameras. 'No!' he'sa yell. 'No, by Heaven, I won't stand for that! +That's a rotten! You got to get difference ending froma that!'" + +"What was the matter?" I asks him. "Didn't he want De Vronde saved?" + +His shoulders does one of them muscle dances. + +"Ask me!" he says. "I couldn't tella you! He'sa know nothing about +art! Joosta money--that's all. He'sa tella me girl saving leading man +from lynch lika that is old as he'sa fren' Methuselah! He'sa want +something new for finish that picture--bran' new, he'sa holler or no +picture! All morning I worka, worka, worka, he'sa maka faces at +everything I do!" + +"Well!" I says. "If you--" + +I happened to look up just then and I seen the well known gates of Film +City about a hundred yards away, and if we was makin' a mile an hour, +we was makin' fifty. I leaned over and tapped the Kid on the shoulder. + +"Don't you think you had better slow up a trifle?" I asks him. + +"I don't _think_ nothin' about it!" he throws over his shoulder. "I +_know_ it! I been tryin' to stop this thing for the last fifteen +minutes and there's nothin' doin'!" + +"Throw her in reverse!" I screams, as them great big iron gates looms +up over the front mud guards. + +"I can't!" he shouts. "The darned thing's stuck in high and I can't +budge it!" + +One of them gates was open and the Kid steers for it, while I closed my +eyes and give myself over to prayer. We shot through leavin' one lamp, +both mudguards and a runnin' board behind. + +"Hey!" yells Genaro. "What's a mat? Thisa too fasta for me! Stoppa +the car before something she'sa happen!" + +"Somethin' she'sa gonna happen right now!" I says. "Be seated!" + +The Kid swings around a corner and everybody in Film City is either +lookin', runnin' or yellin' after us. I often wondered what a wide +berth meant, and I found out that afternoon. That's what everybody in +the place give us when we come through there hittin' on six as I. +Markowitz would remark. A guy made up like a Indian chief jumped +behind a tree and we only missed him by dumb luck. + +"Hey!" he yells after us. "Are you fellows crazy? Look out for the +Moorish Castle!" + +I yelled back that we wouldn't miss nothin' of interest, if we could +help it and the gas held out, and just then I got a flash at the +Moorish Castle. It had been built the day before for a big five reel +thriller that Genaro was gonna produce and I understand he was very +partial to it. As soon as he sees it he jumps up in the back of the +car and slaps the Kid on the shoulders. + +"Hey, crazee man!" he hollers. "Stoppa the car, I, Genaro, command it! +Don't toucha my castle!" his voice goes off in a shriek. +"_Sapristi_!--I--" + +That was all he said just then, because we went through the Moorish +Castle like a cyclone through Kansas, and as we come out on the other +side the whole thing tumbled down, bringin' with it a couple of Chinese +pagodas that had just come from the paint shop. All we lost was half +of the radiator and the windshield. The Kid pulls a kind of a sick +grin and licks his lips. + +"Some car, eh?" he says, takin' a fresh grip on the steerin' wheel. + +I missed Genaro and lookin' back through the dust I seen him draped +over a fence with his head touchin' the ground and his feet up in the +air. A lot of daredevils was runnin' towards us and yellin' murder. + +"Where's Genaro?" asks the Kid, as we miss a tree by a half inch. + +I shivered and told him. + +"The big quitter!" snarls the Kid. "Left us flat the minute somethin' +happened, eh? I always knew that guy was yellah!" + +We shot across the African Desert and comin' around another turn we +bust right into "The Escapes of Eva." There's about two hundred supers +dressed like cowboys and Duke, Genaro's assistant, is up on a little +platform with the Big Boss Potts, directin' the thing. De Vronde is +under a tree with a rope around his neck and another one that don't +show in the picture under his arms so's he can be pulled up and it will +look like he was bein' lynched. A little ways up the road is Miss +Vincent on a horse, ready to make her dash to save De Vronde's life. + +As all this comes into view, the Kid swings around on me and shoves +somethin' big and round in my face. + +"Now!" he hollers. "We're up against it for real! The steerin' wheel +come off!" + +I pushed open the door on the side and stood on the runnin' board. + +"Let me know how you make out!" I yells. "I got enough!" + +With that I jumps. + +Just as I hit the ground, I hear Duke yellin' through a megaphone. + +"C'mon, now--gimme action! Hey! Get two of those cameras at an angle. +When I say 'Shoot!' you, Nelson, and Hardy pull that rope so De Vronde +swings about five feet clear of the ground! Be sure the rope is under +his arms, too! Hey, you extra people--a little ginger there! This is +a lynching not a spelling bee! Dance around some--yell! That's it. +Now, all ready?" He blows the whistle. "Shoot!" he yells, "and gimme +all you got!" + +Well, the Kid did what he could--he blowed the little trick horn on the +side of the car about a second before he shot into the mob. Them +bloodthirsty outlaws just melted away before him, and them that was +slow-witted was picked up and tossed to one side before they knowed +what hit 'em. They's a big stone wall at the other side of the tree +and that's where the Kid was headed for. Just as he sails under De +Vronde, who's hangin' from the rope over his head, the Kid sees the +wall, grabs De Vronde by the legs and hangs there, lettin' that crazy, +six cylinder A. G. F. proceed without him. De Vronde and the Kid +crashes to the ground and the car dashed its brains out against the +wall. + +While great excitement is bein' had by all, Duke jumps from the +platform to tell the camera men to cease firin' and a handful of actors +runs over to jimmy the Kid and De Vronde apart. I thought this Duke +guy was gonna explode, on the level it was two minutes before he could +speak. + +"What d'ye mean, you ivory-headed simp?" he screams at the Kid, +finally. "What d'ye mean by that? You've ruined a hundred feet of +film, you--" + +I hear somebody puffin' along beside me as I come runnin' up and I see +it's Potts. He's red in the face and mumblin' somethin' to himself as +he waddles along. I felt real sorry for the Kid--car and job, both +gone! Potts rushes up and grabs Duke by the shoulder. + +"There!" he yells, pointin' to the Kid. "There stands a man that knows +more about the picture game than the whole infernal lot of you! +_That's the kind of a finish I've been trying to get for this picture +all morning_!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +PLEASURE ISLAND + +Speakin' of boobs, as people will, did you ever figure what would +happen if the production of 'em would suddenly cease? Heh? Where +would this or any other country be, if all the voters was wise guys and +the suckers was all dead? + +In the first place, there wouldn't have been no ex-Land of the Rave and +Home of the Spree, if Queen Isabella hadn't been boob enough to fall +for Columbus's stuff, about would she stake him and his gang of rough +and readys to a couple of ferryboats and they'd go out and bring back +Chicago. Even old Chris himself was looked on as Kid Stupid, because +he claimed the earth was round. The gang he trailed with had it +figured as bein' square like their heads. + +The guy that invented the airship was doped out as a boob until the +thing begin to fly, the bird that turned out the first steamboat was +called a potterin' old simp and let him alone and he'd kill +himself--and that's the way it goes. + +The sucker is the boy that keeps the wise guys alive. He'll try +anything once, and it don't make no difference to him whether it's +three-card monte or a new kind of submarine. He's the guy that built +all the fancy bridges, the big buildin's, fought and won the wars that +the wise guys started, and fixed things generally so that to-day you +can push a little trick electric button and get anything from a piece +of pie to a divorce. He's the simp that falls for the new minin' +company stock, grins when the wise guys explain to him just how many +kinds of a sucker he is, and then clips coupons while _they're_ gettin' +up early to read the want ads. He's the baby that's done everything +that couldn't be did. + +That's the boob! + +The boob is the guy that takes all the chances and makes it possible +for old Kid World to keep goin' forward instead of standin' still. Any +burg that's got a couple of sure enough eighteen-carat boobs in it, +known to the trade as suckers, has got a chance. + +So the next time somebody calls you a big boob, don't get sore--thank +him. He's boostin' you! + +Gimme ten boobs in back of me and I'll take a town, because they'll +take a chance. Gimme a hundred wise guys and the town'll take _us_, +because them birds will have to stop and figure what's the use of +startin' somethin'. + +Me for the boobs! + +Kid Scanlan was a boob. He was a great battler, a regular fellow and +all like that, but he was a boob just the same. He started fightin' +because he was simp enough to take a chance of havin' his features +altered, and he won the title through bein' stupid enough to mix it +with the welterweight champion. I was the wise guy of the party, +always playin' it safe and seein' what made it go, before I'd take a +chance. But the Kid got a whole lot further than I ever will. He made +a name for himself in the ring and another in the movies and I ain't +champion of _nothin'_--I'm just _with_ Scanlan, that's all. + +I'm gettin' offers from promoters here and there to have him start +against some set up for money that was sinful to refuse, but there's +nothin' doin'. The Kid has took to bein' an actor like they did to +gunpowder in Europe, and not only he won't fight, I can't even get him +mad! + +"I'm off that roughneck stuff!" he tells me. "Nobody ever got nothin' +by fightin'. Look what it did to Willard! Besides," he goes on, "what +would John Drew and them guys think of me, if it should leak out that I +had give in to box fightin' again? Why they'd be off me for life! +Nope, let 'em battle in Russia, I'm through!" + +Fine for a champion, eh? + +Now here's a guy that went to the top in the one game where you can't +luck your way over. Because he was a fightin' fool, the 'Kid had +right-crossed his way to the title and now that he was up there, the +big stiff wouldn't look at a glove! No! he was a actor now! I'd tell +him that Kid Whosthis had flattened Battlin' McGluke the night before +and we could get ten thousand to go six rounds with the winner. He'd +flick the ash off a gold-tipped cigarette and say, + +"Yeh?" Then he'd grab me by the shoulder and pour this in my ear. +"Did you get me in that Shakespeare picture last week? I hear the guy +that writes up shows for the Peoria _Gazette_ claims Mansfield had +nothin' on me!" + +A few months before he would have said somethin' like this, + +"All right! Wire the club we'll fight him, and if I don't bounce that +tramp in two rounds, I'll give my end to them starvin' Armenians!" + +Now I didn't kick when the Kid falls for Miss Vincent, because I had +seen Miss Vincent, and the Kid was only human. I didn't say nothin' +when he staked himself to that second-hand auto that like to wrecked +California, but when he pulls this actor thing on me and says pugilism, +_pugilism_, mind you, ought to be discouraged--I figured it was about +time for yours in the faith to step in. + +The Kid had two ambitions in life, both of which he picked up at Film +City. One was to be the greatest movie hero that ever flattened a +villain, and the other was to ease himself into the Golden West Club. + +The Golden West Club was over in Frisco, and as far as the average guy +was concerned it could have been in Iceland. It was about as easy to +get into that joint as it is to get into Heaven, and it was also the +only other place where you couldn't buy your way in. Your name had to +be Fortescue-Smith or Van Whosthis, and you had to look it. You had to +be partial to tea, wrist watches, dancin', opera, tennis and the like, +and to top it all off you had to be a distant relative to a hick called +William the Conqueror, who I hear was light heavy-weight champ in days +of old. If you checked up all right on them little details, they took +a vote on you. If you was lucky, you got a letter in a few weeks later +sayin' your application was bein' considered and you might get in, but +not to bank on it, because they was havin' trouble connectin' up your +grandfather with the rest of the family tree, it bein' said around that +he made his money through work. + +That was the place Kid Scanlan wanted to bust into! + +One night he gets all dressed up like a horse in one of them soup and +fish layouts, and he hires a guy to drive him over to the Golden West +Club in that second-hand A. G. F. he had. I will say the Kid went into +the thing in a big way, payin' seventy-five bucks for a dress suit and +ten more for the whitest shirt I ever seen in my life. He sends in +eight berries for a hack-driver's hat and seven for a pair of tan +shoes. Then he climbs into his bus and tells the driver, "Let's go!" +Before he pulled out, he told me they was so many guys belonged to the +thing that he figured he could mix around for a few minutes without +anybody gettin' wise that he wasn't a regular member, if he could only +breeze past the jobbie on the door. + +And outside of the shoes, which I thought was a trifle noisy, the Kid +sized up like any of the real club members I had seen, except his chest +wasn't so narrow and he had an intelligent look. + +Well, he blowed in about twelve o'clock and come up to the rooms we had +at the hotel in Film City. He stands in the middle of the bedroom, +takes off this trick silk hat, and, puttin' everything he had on the +throw, he pitched it into the bathtub. He slammed that open-faced coat +in a corner and in a minute it was followed by them full-dress pants. +The gleamin' white shirt skidded under the bed, neck and neck with the +shoes. I didn't say a word while he was abusin' them clothes, but I +was so happy I felt like cheerin', because they was somethin' in the +Kid's face I hadn't seen there since we hit the movies. The last time +I had caught him lookin' like that was when One-Punch Ross had dropped +him with a left hook, just before the Kid won the title. When the Kid +got to his feet that there look was on his face and two seconds later +he was welterweight champion of the world and points adjacent. + +He inserts himself into his pyjamas and then he swings around on me. + +"How much did they offer us at the Garden for ten rounds with Battlin' +Edwards?" he wants to know. + +I liked to fell out of the bed! + +"Eight thousand, with a privilege of thirty per cent of the gross," I +says, gettin' off of the hay. "Will I wire 'em?" + +"Yep!" he snaps out. "Tell 'em I'll fight Edwards two weeks after I +get through here!" + +"And when will that be, might I ask?" I says, ringin' for a messenger +and tryin' to keep from dancin' a jig. + +"As soon as them simps finish that picture, 'How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title,'" he tells me. "Genaro says he'll start it to-morrow, and as +soon as it's through, so am I--here!" + +I didn't get the answer to all this until the Kid crawls into the hay +half a hour later, scowlin' and mutterin' to himself. I took a good +look at him and then I says, + +"Speakin' of clubs and stuff like that, how did you make out at that +Golden West joint to-night?" + +He sits right up in the bed. + +"Are you tryin' to kid somebody?" he snarls. + +"I asked you a civil question, you big stiff!" I comes back, "and don't +be comin' around here and slippin' _me_ that rough stuff! If you can +be a gentleman at your clubs and joints like that, you want to be one +here! D'ye get that?" + +He looks at me for a minute and seein' I'm serious, he growls, + +"I thought you had heard about it!" Then he props himself up with the +pillows and begins, "I went over there to-night and them boobs was +havin' a racket of some kind, I guess, because all the automobiles in +the West was lined up outside the doors of the club. I tried to horn +in the line with that boat of mine and the biggest nigger in the world, +dressed up like a band leader, comes over and wants to know if I'm a +guest. I told him no, that I was a movie actor and to step one side or +he'd break the headlights when I hit him. He claims I can't get in the +line without I got a ticket showin' I'm a guest. I got tired of his +chatter, so I dropped him with a short left swing and we keep on goin' +till we wind up at the front door. This stupid simp I had drivin' my +bus is lookin' at the swell dames goin' in, instead of at the emergency +brake, and he forgets to stop the thing till we have took off the rear +end of a car in front of us and busted my front mudguard again. + +"While the chiffure of the wreck is moanin' to my guy about it, I +ducked out the side and blowed around to the entrance. I figured they +was a password of some kind, so I says to the big hick at the gate, +'Ephus Doffus Loffus,' and pushes past him, I guess he was surprised at +me bein' a stranger and knowin' the ropes at that, because I seen him +lookin' after me when I beat it up the first stairway to the second +floor. I got a flash at myself in a mirror as I breeze past, and, if I +do say it myself, I was there forty ways. I was simply a knockout in +that evenin' dress thing! A swell-lookin' guy pipes me at the top of +the stairs and, after givin' me the once over, he taps me on the arm. + +"'You may bring me a glawss of Appollinaris, my man,' he says, 'and for +heaven sake remove those yellow shoes!' + +"With that he walks away and another guy comes up and whistles at me. +When I turn around, he's givin' me the up and down through a glass +thing he's got hung over one eye. + +"'Bring up a box of perfectos at once!' he pipes. 'Come! Look alive +now!' + +"Then I got it! _I_ thought I was knockin' 'em dead and these guys +thought I was a waiter! Well, I thinks, I'll show them boobs somethin' +before I take the air--I can pull that stuff _myself_! With that I +breezes into the next room and there's a hick sittin' at a table, +toyin' with a book. He was as near nothin' as anything I ever seen, on +the level! He's got a swell dress suit on, but it didn't fit him no +better than mine did me and it couldn't have cost no more or he would +have killed the tailor. Outside of the shoes, mine bein' classier, we +was both made up the same. A guy comes in, looks him over for a minute +and then he yawns. 'Bored?' he says. The simp that was sittin' down +looks back at him, yawns and says, 'Frightfully.' Then the other guy +bows at him and goes out. Some other hick wanders in and says, 'Ah, +Van Stuyvessant, bored?' and Stupid says, 'Frightfully' and the other +guy blows out. I seen that the coast was clear, so I smoothed my hair, +pulled down my vest and throwed my chest out like them other guys did. +Then I breezed in and stopped before this guy. He yawns and looks up +at me very dignified like he was sittin' in the Night Court and I was +up before him for the third time in a week. + +"'Hey, Stupid!' I says. 'Get me a gin fizz and don't make it too +sweet! And for heaven's sakes get rid of that shirt!' + +"I thought he was goin' to get the apoplexy or somethin', because his +face is as red as a four-alarm fire. Then he says, + +"'Why--what--how dare you, you insolent puppy!' + +"I leaned on his shoulder and tapped him on the end of the beak with my +thumb. + +"'Lay off that stuff, Simple,' I tells him. 'I'm a guest here and a +couple of hicks took me for a waiter. I'm just gettin' even, that's +all. If you don't get me that gin fizz like I asked you, I'll knock +you for a goal!' + +"He gets as white as my shirt and presses a little button on the table. +A big husky, made up like a Winter Garden chorus man, runs in and +Stupid says, 'Eject this ruffian, Simms! And then you will answer to +me for allowing him to enter!' + +"Simms was game, but a poor worker, so I feinted him over in front of +his master and then I flattened him with a left and right to the jaw. +I took it on the run then and got out the back way!" + +The Kid stops and heaves a sigh. + +"And then what?" I encourages him. + +"And then nothin'!" he says. "That's all! Except I'm off the Golden +West Club, the movies and this part of the country! I got enough. +Them guys over there to-night gimme the tip-off--I don't belong, that's +all! I was a sucker to ever stop fightin' to be a actor, but I got +wise in time. You go ahead and sign me right up with anybody but +Dempsey, and if Genaro don't start my picture to-morrow, I'll give 'em +back their money and you and me will leave the Golden West flat on its +back!" + +Say! I was so happy I couldn't sleep. I just turned over on my side +and registered joy all night long! + +The next mornin' we go to Genaro the first thing, and the Kid puts it +up to him right off the bat. Either he starts "How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title" or he kisses us good-by. Genaro raves and pulls his hair for +awhile, but they ain't no more give to the Kid than they is to marble +and finally Genaro says he'll start the picture right away. + +We find out that another director is usin' the whole camp to put on a +trick called "The Fall of Babylon," so we got to go over to an island +in the well known Pacific Ocean and take what they call exteriors +there. They rounded up Miss Vincent, De Vronde, the cuckoo that wrote +the thing, and about a hundred other people and load us all on a yacht +belongin' to Potts. We're gonna stay on this trick island till the +picture is finished, and we eat and sleep on the yacht. + +On the trip over, we all go down in what Potts claims is the grand +saloon and Van Aylstyne, the hick that wrote the picture, reads it to +us. It starts off showin' the Kid workin' in a pickle factory on the +East Side in New York. They're only slippin' him five berries a week +and out of that he's keepin' his widowed mother and seven of her +children. One day he finds a newspaper and all over the front page is +a article tellin' about all the money the welterweight champion is +makin', so the Kid figures the pickle game is no place for a young +feller with his talent, and decides to become welterweight champ. +First he tries himself out by slammin' the guy he's workin' for, after +catchin' him insultin' the stenographer by askin' her to take a ride in +his runabout, when the buyer is already takin' her out in his +limousine. When the boss comes back to life, he fires the Kid and our +hero goes out and knocks down a few odd brutes here and there for +gettin' fresh with innocent chorus girls and the like. Finally, he +practically wrecks a swell gamblin' joint where he has gone to rescue +his girl, which had been lured there by the handsome stranger from the +city. + +"Well!" says Potts, when Van Aylstyne gets finished. "How does that +strike you?" + +"What I like," pipes Miss Vincent, with a funny little quirk of her lip +and a wink at De Vronde. "What I like is its daring originality!" + +Van Aylstyne stiffens up. + +"Of course," he says, kinda sore, "if I'm to be criticised by--" + +"Ain't they no villains or nothin' like that in it?" butts in the Kid, +frownin' at him. + +"Joosta one minoote!" says Genaro. "Don't get excite! That's joosta +firsta reel!" + +He waves his hand at Van Aylstyne, and this guy gives a couple of +glares all around and then turns over another page. It seems at this +stage of the game, a lot of gunmen get together to stop the Kid from +winnin' the title, so they throw him off a cliff. He gets up, dusts +off his clothes, registers anger and flattens half a dozen of 'em. A +little bit later he gets fastened to a railroad track and the fast mail +runs over him. This makes him peeved, and he gets up and wallops a +couple of tramps that's passing for luck. Then the villain's gang of +rough and readys grabs him again and he is throwed off a ship into the +ocean. A guy comes along in a motor boat, and, after shootin' a few +times at the Kid without actually killin' him, registers surprise and +runs over him. When the Kid comes up there ain't nothin' to wallop, so +he swims six miles to the island. The minute he crawls on the beach he +faces the camera and registers exhaustion. Then a lot of guys jump out +and stab him. He knocks 'em all cold and then he goes on, fights the +champ and wins the title. + +"Is that all there is to it?" asks the Kid, when Van Aylstyne stops for +breath and applause. + +"Practically all," Van Aylstyne tells him. "Of course I'll have to go +over it and spice it up a little more--get more action in it here and +there, wherever it appears to drag. But we can do this as we go along." + +"Yes!" says Potts. "You'll have to do that. I want this picture to be +the thriller of the year!" He scratches his chin for a minute and +looks at Van Aylstyne. "You better ginger it up a bit at that!" he +goes on. "It sounds a little tame to me. See if you can't work in a +couple of spectacular fires, a sensational runaway with Mr. Scanlan +being dragged along the ground, or you might have him do a slide for +life from the topmast of the yacht to one of the trees along the shore +here." + +"Wait!" pipes Genaro. "I have joosta the thing! While I listen, I +getta thisa granda idea! Meester Scanlan, he'sa can be throw from the +airsheep and--" + +"Lay off, lay off!" butts in the 'Kid. "They's enough action in that +thing right now to suit me! Don't put nothin' else in it. I'll be +busier than a one-armed paperhanger as it is!" He turns to Van +Aylstyne. "Where d'ye get that stuff?" he scowls. "Would _you_ jump +off a cliff, hey?" + +Van Aylstyne throws out his little chest, while the rest of them +snickers. + +"I _write_ it!" he says. + +"Yeh?" pipes the Kid. "Well, you'll _jump_ it, too, bo, believe me!" + +"What's a mat?" hollers Genaro. "What's a use hava the fighta now? +Wait till we starta the picture, then everybody she'sa fighta! +Something she'sa go wrong. _Sapristi_! we feexa her then. Joosta +holda tight your horses!" + +He pats the Kid on the shoulder and slips him a cigar. + +The rest of the trip to the island took about two hours, durin' which +time the Kid and Miss Vincent sat on the top deck, and she give him his +daily lesson in how to speak English, eat soup and a lot more of that +high society stuff. + +We finally got to this island place and by three o'clock the next +afternoon they was half way through with the first reel. I horned in +on the thing myself, takin' off a copper, for which they gimme five +bucks even. + +That night they was big doings on board the yacht. They had music and +dancin' and what not galore. Van Aylstyne, Potts, De Vronde and most +of the other help was there in the soup and fish and the twenty odd +dames that was actin' in the picture was all dressed up to thrill. I +never seen so much of this here de collect stuff in my life. I heard a +lot of talk around the studios at the camp about "exposures," and, +well, I seen what they meant all right that evenin'. It got me so +dizzy, never havin' no closeups like that before, that I ducked for my +stateroom about nine o'clock when the joy was just beginnin' to be +unconfined and I hadn't been up there five minutes, when the Kid comes +up and knocks at my door. + +"I'm goin' to hit the hay," he tells me. "If I gotta fight Battlin' +Edwards in two months, I'm gonna start readyin' up now! I been puttin' +on fat since I been here, and it's got to come off. I'll get up at +five to-morrow and do a gallop around the island, and I just dug up a +couple of ex-bartenders among the extry people which will gimme some +sparrin' practice every mornin' till they give out!" + +"Great!" I says. I was hardly able to believe my ears. It sounded +like the old Kid Scanlan again! + +I closed the door, and just as he was turnin' away, I heard the swish +of skirts and then I got Miss Vincent's voice. It was low and sweet +and kinda soothin' and--well, she was the kind of dame guys kill each +other for! Do you get me? + +"Oh!" she kinda breathes. "Why are you up here all alone?" + +I heard the Kid's deep breathin'--it was always that way when _she_ +spoke to him, and I knowed without seein' 'em that his nails was +engravin' fancy work on the palm of his hand. + +"Why," he says, tryin' to keep his voice steady. "I'm off this tango +thing--and the last time I had one of them dress suits on, I was +mistook for a waiter!" + +Y'know there was a funny little catch in the Kid's voice when he pulled +that, although he tried to pass it off by coughin'. That boy sure did +want to mix with the big leaguers, and, bein' Irish, it come hard to +him to miss anything he wanted. Usually he got it! + +I heard Miss Vincent sneer. + +"Don't flatter these conceit-drugged travesties on the male sex by +caring about anything _they_ say," she tells him. "You have so many +things they never will have! Why, you're a big, clean, two-handed man +and--" She breaks off and gives a giggle that I would have took Verdun +for. "But there!" she goes on. "I--I--guess I'm getting too +enthusiastic!" + +I could almost feel her blush, and I knowed how she looked when she did +that thing, so I says, "Good-by, Kid!" + +"That's all right!" pipes the Kid. "It wasn't these guys here. But I +can't go downstairs anyhow, because I gotta start trainin' for Battlin' +Edwards." + +"Oh, bother Battling Edwards!" she says. "I thought you promised me to +give up prize fighting!" + +This was a new one on me, and it cleared up a lot of things I hadn't +been able to figure out before! + +"I gotta take it back," I hear the Kid sayin' in a kinda dead voice. +"I pulled a bone play when I did that! I can't give up fightin' no +more than you can give up the movies! The only thing I got is a +wallop, and that won't get me nowhere in the movies or society, but it +got me the title in the ring. I guess I'll stick to my own game!" + +"Oh, come!" she tells him, kinda impatient. "You have the blues! +Shake 'em off--I don't like you when you scowl like that. Come on down +and have a dance with me. You'll feel better." + +"You said somethin'!" answers the Kid. "But I can't--on the level. I +gotta train for this guy, or he's liable to bounce me, and, if I lose +this quarrel, I'm through! Y'see, this ain't no movie, this is gonna +be the real thing! If this guy flattens me, he'll be the champion and +you _know_ that bird is gonna be in there tryin' till the last bell!" + +I peeked through them little wooden cheaters on the window and I seen +her kinda stiffen up and register surprise. + +"I am not accustomed to coaxing people to dance with me, Mr. Scanlan," +she says, "and--" + +"Yes, and I'm not used to havin' dames like _you_ ask me!" butts in the +Kid. "But I gotta beat Edwards--and I can't beat him by stayin' up +late!" + +She just breezes past him and down the deck without another word. + +The Kid kicks a fire bucket that was standin' there into the Pacific +Ocean, and from the way he slammed the door of his stateroom I'll bet +all them trick beer mugs that Potts had on the wall fell on the floor. + +Well, the next mornin' we all go over to the island again and the Kid +is up at daybreak, trottin' over the hills. He's got four sweaters on, +although it's as hot as blazes, and I'm taggin' along in back of him. +Then he comes back, changes his clothes and works in the picture till +noon, when we knock off for the eats. Miss Vincent passed us once when +we was talkin' to Genaro, and she deliberately passed the Kid up! + +After that it was suicide to give Scanlan a nasty look. + +Along around two o'clock that afternoon, another yacht shows up a +little ways off the island and in a few minutes it stops and five guys +and a woman hops in one of them trick launches and put-puts over to us. +They get out and come up the string-piece and we get a good flash at +them. The male members of the party is all dressed up in blue coats +and white pants and from their general get-up I thought they was all +gonna form a circle, pick up the ends of their coats and pipe. "What +ho, the merry villagers come and we are the daisy maids!" + +All but one. He was a great big husky, kinda dark skinned and he +looked like a assassin with the women, know what I mean? Also, I had +seen this bird somewheres before, but I couldn't check him up right off +the bat. The girl that was with the troupe was a good looker all +right, and you could see she was a big-timer. But she was kinda thin +and worn out to the naked eye. And when I got a close-up of her, I +seen there was a funny look in her eyes, like she had been +double-crossed or somethin'. She looked at everything like she wished +it was hers, but there was no chance, d'ye get me? + +Well, Potts comes a-runnin' to meet 'em and then he comes up and +introduces 'em all around. He claims they're from Frisco and friends +of his which has come over to see how movin' pictures is made and they +might even go so far as to take off a part in one of 'em, just for the +devilment of it. Miss Vincent looks hard and close at the dark-skinned +guy, like she was tryin' to think where she had seen him before, but +Genaro come along just then and I'll bet them newcomers didn't get no +encouragement from the way _he_ looked 'em over. De Vronde and Van +Aylstyne, though, fell for this bunch so hard they liked to broke their +necks. It seems them two hicks found out they all was members of this +Golden West Club, and they did everything but shine their shoes from +then on. + +When the Kid blows in and sees 'em, he claims he remembers 'em all as +bein' among them present the night he went over to the Club, and he +says they had better keep lots of the Golden West between him and them +while they was in our midst. + +The tall dark guy, whose name was somethin' like Brown-Smith, took one +flash at Miss Vincent and then everybody else could have been in France +for all the notice _he_ give 'em. He took up his stand about two feet +away from her, and there he stuck all day long like cement. Anybody +could see that this stuff was causin' two people to register worry. +They was the Kid and the dame that come over with the troupe. Scanlan +watches Brown-Smith makin' his play for Miss Vincent, and he seen that +if she wasn't encouragin' him, she wasn't complainin' to the police +either, but the Kid keeps quiet and takes it out in makin' them +sparrin' ex-bartenders tired of life. + +The next day I got up early lookin' for the Kid, and as I come through +a clearin' in the island I seen three things at once, and if I hadn't +ducked behind a tree, they'd have seen me. There's my meal ticket with +all his sweaters off, standin' in the middle of the little space, +shadow boxin' in front of a tree. The well known sun is shinin' down +on his blonde head, and I never noticed before just what a handsome +brute the Kid was in action. The muscles in his arms are jumpin' and +ripplin' under a skin that a chorus girl would give five years for, and +he's as graceful and light on his feet as one of them Russian toe +dancers. + +The other two things I seen was Miss Vincent and the dame that had +blowed in with the Golden West boys. + +The new dame is watchin' the Kid like he was a most pleasin' sight to +them tired little eyes of hers. Her mouth is open a little bit and +there's a kind of wishin' smile on her lips. Y'know she looked like +this was what she wanted ever since she come into the store. Get me? + +Miss Vincent is doin' a piece of watchin' herself around the tree +that's between 'em, only she ain't watchin' the Kid. She's watchin' +this new dame, and you can take it from me she was registerin' hate! +That classy little nose of hers is quiverin' and she's bitin' hard on +her lip. Her body was so stiff and straight that, on the level, I +thought she was gonna spring! + +The Kid finally stops boxin', puts on his sweaters and then he gets a +flash at the new dame. She calls somethin' to him and he comes +over--then they start back to the yacht together. Miss Vincent ducks +and so did I. I didn't want _none_ of them to see me, because this +thing was gettin' a little too deep for yours in the faith. + +They go ahead with another reel of the Kid's picture that morning and +Brown-Smith still keeps hangin' around Miss Vincent like a panhandler +outside a circus, and when she has to come in the picture herself, he +stands on the sidelines beside one of the camera men, with them chorus +men friends of his draped around him. The Kid is goin' through a scene +where he flattens half a dozen guys that are tryin' to discourage him +from fightin' the champ and Brown-Smith is givin' his friends the low +down on it. + +"By Jove!" he sneers, just loud enough so's we can all get an earful. +"It nauseates me to see that fellow knocking about those poor devils +who have to do that for a living! Fawncy him doing anything like that +in real life! Why, he would most likely call for the police if some +one slapped his wrist. I know those moving picture heroes!" + +This troupe of Sweet Williams around him snickers right out loud in +public at that, like the big guy was simply a knockout as a comedian. +Miss Vincent frowns and the new dame looks kinda worried and nervous, +but the Kid just reddens a bit and continues to swat the supers all +over the lot. Brown-Smith pulls a few more raw cracks like that, +gettin' louder and nastier all the time, and finally he asks Potts to +let him take part in the big scene at the end of the reel where the Kid +is supposed to bounce everybody in the thing but the camera men. He +says it will be great stuff to tell about at the club the first rainy +night and a lot of bunk like that--all the time he's watchin' the Kid +with that nasty sneer on his face. + +Potts says all right, and offers to stake him to an old suit of +clothes, but he laughs and says he won't need anything, tossin' his +coat to one side like the acrobat at the theatre flips away his +handkerchief before goin' to work. He rolls up his sleeves and starts +limberin' up his arms in front of Miss Vincent, winkin' at her and +noddin' to the Kid. She looks kinda worried, but her control is good +and she holds fast. She wasn't the only one that looked worried, +believe me! I was doin' that thing myself, because this Brown-Smith +guy had a good thirty pounds on the Kid, and he was built that way all +over, reach, height and everything else. The minute he put up his +hands, I seen two things. First, that he knowed somethin' about box +fightin' and, second, that he was goin' to try and bounce the Kid for +the benefit of Miss Vincent. + +While they're gettin' things ready for the massacre, the Kid comes over +to me and says, + +"What's the big idea? I know this bird--he's the guy that asked me to +bring him a _glawss_ of Appollinaris that night at the Golden West +Club. If he fusses around me, I'm gonna maul him!" + +I knowed _that_ wasn't the reason, because Kid Scanlan could take both +a wallop or a joke. The reason was standin' about three feet away +talkin' to Genaro and she never looked better. Believe me, she had +everything that mornin'! + +"Looka thisa bigga boob, Miss Vincent!" Genaro is sayin', wavin' his +arms around and shakin' his head at Brown-Smith. "He'sa wanna get in +my picture so he showa the girls what a bigga fella he is. Meester +Potts he's a go crazee if thisa picture she's a no good. He's a joomp +at me, he's a holler at me and he letta thisa bigga bunk get in it! +Thisa fight, she'sa gotta looka real--not lika the actor, butta _real_! +Thisa fella he'sa go in slappa Meester Scanlan on he'sa wrist. Meester +Scanlan he'sa no wanna hurt Meester Potts' fren'--you know?--so he'sa +slappa heem back! Everybody she'sa laugh at me when they showa that +picture. Aha! They maka me crazee!" + +He runs over to Brown-Smith and grabs his arm. + +"Please, Meester!" he begs him, with tears in his eyes. "Please, +Meester, getta gooda and rough with thisa fella!" he points to the Kid. +"Don't be afraid for heem, he's a tougha nut! He's a nevaire geta +hurt! Don't maka thisa fight looka like the act. You rusha heem, +hitta heem, wrestle heem, choka heem, graba heem, bita heem, kicka +heem, anything but keela heem, so thisa picture she looka like reala +fight! Pretty soon, I blowa the whistle. He's a hitta you +easy--so--you falla down. Maka looka good, don't sitta down, falla +down--so!--" Genaro stops and throws himself on the grass and then +hops up again. "You watcha that?" he goes on. "Alla right!" He jumps +away from the cameras and yells, "Hey, Joe! You stanna over there and +shoota this froma the right! Alla right, now everybody! Meester Kid +Scanlan, you ready? Gooda! Come now--cameras--ready--shoot!" + +The Kid meets the rush of the gang like they had practised it together, +and he floors one after the other of them with snappy left hooks. Of +course he was pullin' his punches and barely touchin' these hicks, but +it looked awful good from front. Then Brown-Smith, who had been +hangin' around on the outside, rushes in. For a guy who had never +tried the thing before, he struck me as bein' real swift at pickin' up +the rules, because he faced the cameras at the right angles and pulled +a lot of fancy stuff that usually nobody but a sure enough movie actor +knows. The Kid sidesteps him and puts a light left to his chin and +Brown-Smith comes back with a right swing that would have floored the +Kid, if it hadn't been too high. The Kid went back on his heels and a +little trickle of claret comes from his lips. Genaro jumps in the air, +clappin' his hands. "Magnificenta!" he yells. Miss Vincent is +breathin' hard and her hands pressed up tight against her chest. Her +face was the color of skimmed milk. Genaro pipes her and grabs a +camera man. "Shoota that--queek!" he hollers, pointin' to her. The +new dame runs over to me and grabs my arm. + +"Stop it!" she whispers, excited like. "You must! Albert will kill +him! He was amateur heavyweight champion once and--oh!--he wants to +beat Mr. Scanlan--he--oh!--" + +I heard Miss Vincent give a little yelp, and I shove this dame away +and, believe me, bo, _I_ come near goin' dead on my feet! _Because +there's my champ on the ground, layin' flat on his face and he looked +as cold as the North Pole_! I started to dash in, but Genaro grabs me +and throws me aside. "Stoppa, fool!" he yells. "Thisa picture she'sa +maka me famous!" + +The rest of the mob is too scared to do anything--they knowed that this +was the real thing! The Kid gets up on one knee, and, on the level, +the only sound you could hear was his choked breathin' and the steady +click of the cameras--yes, and I guess the beatin' of my heart! The +Kid is shakin' his head to clear it from that wallop and I yelled to +him to stay down and take his time. He gets half way up and slides +down again flat and Brown-Smith laughs. Then Miss Vincent suddenly +turns, and there's a bucket of ice cold lemonade standin' on a bench +beside her. It had been put there for the extry people. This here +eighteen-carat, regular fellow dame grabs that bucket and throws the +lemonade all over the Kid's head and shoulders! + +It braced him like a charge of hop--his head jerked up as it hit him +and he shook off the drops--and in another second he was on his feet, +smilin' the old Scanlan smile and dancin' around this guy who was +rushin' in to finish him. He swings for the Kid's jaw and the Kid, +movin' his head an inch out of the way, puts a hard right and left to +the mouth. Brown-Smith coughed out a tooth that he had no further use +for, and starts backin' away, coverin' up like a crab. The Kid laughs +over at me and sends this guy's head back like it was on a hinge, with +two uppercuts and a right jab. He tries to rush in and grab the Kid, +and Scanlan closes his left eye with the prettiest straight left I ever +seen. He wasn't tryin' to knock this big stiff out, he was +deliberately cuttin' him to pieces in a most cold, workmanlike manner. + +Miss Vincent is smilin' now and the other dame--is not! Potts's mouth +is open about five yards and he looks like he don't know whether to +call the police or go back to the box office for a better seat. Then +the Kid starts backin' friend Brown-Smith all over the place, shootin' +lefts and rights at him so fast that I bet he thought it was rainin' +wallops. He begins to register yellah--he gazes around wildly at +Genaro and Genaro reaches for the whistle so's Brown-Smith can quit, +but Miss Vincent sees him reach for it and she knocks it out of his +hand! Genaro looks hard at her and yells to the camera men to keep +turnin' the cranks. Potts starts over, stops, shakes his shoulders and +turns his back. + +Then the Kid tips back Brown-Smith's head with a lightnin' right hook +and drops him with a left to the jaw. + +They stopped the cameras and everybody give a hand in bringin' the +dashin' Brown-Smith back to the Golden West again. Everybody but me, +the Kid and Miss Vincent. The Kid walks over to Potts and stares at +him. + +"Well," he says. "I guess I'm through after that, eh?" + +Potts slaps him on the back. + +"Hardly!" he grins. "That was the greatest piece of acting I ever saw +before a camera!" + +Genaro runs up and grabs the Kid's hand. + +"Wonderful!" he hollers. "Magnificenta! You are what you calla the +true artiste, Meester Kid Scanlan! That picture she will be the talka +of the country! She'sa maka me famous!" + +"Yeh?" says the Kid. He turns to me and waves over to where +Brown-Smith is recognizin' relatives and close friends. "That guy has +an awful good left!" he says. He thinks for a minute. "D'ye know," he +goes on, "that hick was _tryin'_, at that!" + +I see Miss Vincent talkin' to Potts and all of a sudden he throws up +his hands and stares over at Brown-Smith. + +"What?" he hollers. "Impossible!" + +Then he slaps his hands together and laughs out loud. + +"Oh!" he says, holdin' his sides. "This is too much! Ha, ha, ha!" + +"What's the joke?" I asks Miss Vincent. + +"It's more of a tragedy!" she says, kinda hysterical like she was glad +it was all over. "That man is no more Brown-Smith than you are. He's +Albert Ellington LaRue, who five years ago was the biggest moving +picture leading man in the country! Why, he got hundreds of letters +every day from poor, foolish little girls who grew dizzy watching him +foil villains in five reels a week. He inherited some money--quite a +lot, I believe, and suddenly vanished from the screen, turning up as +Brown-Smith here last year. But he simply could not resist the call of +his vanity to come back once more as the dashing hero of the film. He +had planned to step into this picture, turn the tables in the fight +with Mr. Scanlan, who he thought was an actor and not a pugilist, and +thus come back to the movies in a blaze of glory! He told me he had +two press agents awaiting the word to flash his coup all over the +country. He thought it would make a great story!" She stopped and +laughed. "It will!" she goes on. "Think of the matinée girls when +they see their darling Albert back in the flash once more and being +unmercifully beaten by a man thirty pounds lighter and inches smaller +than him!" + +Just then the fair Albert comes limpin' over to Potts. He looked like +he'd been battlin' a buzz saw! + +"Mr. Potts," he says, "if you dare to use that scene in your picture, I +will bring suit against your firm. I demand that the film be destroyed +at once!" + +"What you say!" screams Genaro. "Nevaire! She'sa mine, that picture! +Away wit' you--you bigga bunk!" He stands before the camera like he's +ready and willin' to protect it with his life. + +"You entered the scene of your own accord, _Mr. LaRue_," remarks Potts, +"and I trust you are in earnest about suing us. The publicity will +just about save me a hundred thousand in advertising." + +As soon as he heard that name "LaRue," this guy just kinda caves in and +closes up tight. Miss Vincent turns her nose up at him and walks over +to the Kid as the other dame comes up and shakes Scanlan's hand. + +"Thank you!" she says, in that tired voice of hers. "You have done a +big thing for me! Now he cannot go into the pictures again, and maybe +he'll--he'll stay home with me!" + +At that Miss Vincent suddenly leans over and kisses her. Can you beat +them dames? + +Albert picks up his hat and straightens his tie. Then he glares from +one to the other of us and walks over to Genaro. + +"I trust," he says, throwin' out his chest. "I trust you realize that +if your picture is a success, I, and I alone, am responsible for it. +If it hadn't been for the advent of myself, a finished artist, in that +fight scene, it would have fallen flat! Good day, sir!" + +And him and his dame and the white-faced Sweet Williams blows! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +LEND ME YOUR EARS + +I don't mind a four-flusher if his stuff is good, know what I mean? A +guy that makes the world think he's there forty ways when as a matter +of fact, he's _shy_ about sixty, deserves credit. Usually, them birds +get it too! They know more about credit than the guy that wrote it, +and any butcher, grocer, tailor or the like who figures on 'em settlin' +the old account has no right to be in business. The only time a +four-flusher pays off is when he hits a new town. Then, if the +attendance is good, he'll buy four or five evenin' papers right out +loud in front of everybody, carelessly displayin' a couple of yellow +bills that might be fifties--if they wasn't tens. After that outburst, +all he spends is the week end. + +For the benefit of them which live in towns where the total vote for +President sounds like the score of a world series game, I'll explain +what a four-flusher is, although they probably got one in their midst, +at that. You'll generally find _one_ wherever there's two people--men +or women. A four-flusher is a guy who claims he can lick Jack Dempsey +in a loud and annoyin' voice, and then runs seven blocks in five +minutes flat when some hick in the back room arises to remark that he's +willin' to take a beatin' for Jack. A four-flusher is the bird that +breezes down Main street in a set of scenery that would make John Drew +look like one of the boys in the gas main trenches somewheres in +Broadway, and yet couldn't purchase an eraser, if rubber was sellin' at +three cents a ton. A four-flusher is a hick that admits bein' a better +singer than Caruso, a better ball-player than Ty Cobb, a better real +estate judge than Columbus and more of a chance taker than Napoleon. + +The first time he starts at any one of them things, he's a odds-on +favorite for last and finishes ten lengths behind the rest of the +field. That's a four-flusher. + +A guy can be taught paintin', pinochle, politics and prohibition, but a +first-class four-flusher is _born_ that way! + +Takin' 'em as a league, I'm about as fond of them guys as a worm is of +a fisherman. The only one I ever fell for was J. Harold Cuthbert, and +that bird had somethin' that the others didn't--he was different! I +thought I had seen 'em all, but this guy crossed me, his stuff was new! + +The way I met Harold was almost romantic. He was reclinin' on the +ground in a careless manner about ten feet away from the main entrance +to Film City, and he looked like the loser in a battle royal where the +weapons used had been picked out by a guy who hoped there'd be no +survivors. He was gazin' up at what the natives insist is a better +grade of sky than anything we got in the East, and he looked like he +was tryin' to figure whether they was right or not. About two feet +away, lumberman's measure, observin' the wreck and yawning was Francis +Xavier Scanlan, known to the trade as Kid Scanlan, welterweight +champion of the world and Shantung. I looked around for a director and +a camera man, but they was nobody else in sight, so figurin' this +couldn't be nothin' more than a dress rehearsal, I stepped over to the +Kid. + +"Who's your friend?" I asks him, noddin' to the sleepin' beauty. + +"I seen Genaro lookin' for you," says the Kid. "I'll bet you been over +to Frisco tryin' to nail that dame at the Busy Bee, ain't you?" + +"A gambler will never get nowheres," I tells him, "but you're startin' +off with a win on that bet!" I points at the model for still life +again. "When does that guy get up?" I inquires. + +The Kid looks down at him for a minute, proddin' him carelessly with +his foot. + +"Weather permittin'," he answers, "he ought to be on his feet in five +more minutes, and I'd never have raised a finger to him, if he hadn't +come at me first!" + +"D'ye mean to say you been wallopin' that guy?" I says. + +"Well, what does it look like?" sneers the Kid. "A man's got a right +to protect himself, ain't he?" + +"He hit you, eh?" I says. + +"No!" answers the Kid. "He didn't get that far with it, but he claimed +he was goin' to, and naturally it was up to me to stop him from gettin' +in a brawl. I never seen a gamer guy in my life, either," he goes on, +admirin'ly. "He knows he'll catch cold layin' on the ground like that, +and yet the minute I stung him he takes a dive and stays down!" + +By this time our hero has risen to his feet and, while dustin' off his +clothes, he looks like he's figurin' whether he ought to claim he'd +been doped and ask for a return bout, or call it a day and let it go at +that. Except for where the Kid had jabbed him, he wasn't a bad lookin' +bird, his best bets bein' a crop of dark, wavy hair and a set of +features which any movie leadin' man could give ten thousand bucks for +and make it up on the first picture. The suit of clothes he was +wearin' had probably put the tailor over, and he also had two yellow +gloves and a little trick cane. He walks over to where me and the Kid +was standin' and takes off his hat. It was one of them dashin', +devilish soft things that has names like Pullman cars--you know, "The +Bryn Mawr, $2.50. All Harvard Wears One." Then he points at the Kid +with his cane. + +"I made a serious error," he remarks, "in engaging in a brawl with a +thug! I thought you would meet me with a gentleman's weapons and--" + +"I ain't got a marshmallow on me," butts in the Kid, grinnin', "or I +would have done that thing. You come at me without no warnin', didn't +you?" + +"Merciful Heaven, what grammar!" says the other guy. "I didn't come at +you, as you say in that quaint English of yours, I thought you could +take a joke or--" + +"Yeh?" interrupts the Kid. "That's what the formerly Kaiser has been +tryin' to tell the world, but it ain't goin' into hysterics over his +comedy!" + +"Well," says the other guy, buttonin' up his coat and glarin' at us +both, "this is not the end of the incident, you can rest assured of +that! The next time we meet I think the result will be different!" + +"Say!" pipes the Kid. "What d'ye think I'm gonna do--fight a world +series with you? If you wanna scrap, I know where you can get all the +action you can handle." + +"And where is that, pray?" asks the other guy. + +"Russia!" says the Kid. "You must have seen it in the papers." He +pats him on the shoulder. "And now, good-by and good luck," he goes +on. "I'm sorry I had to bounce you, but--" + +"Enough of this nonsense!" cuts in the other guy, pullin' out a card +and passin' it over to the Kid. "My seconds will wait upon you +to-morrow. I choose rapiers!" + +"You which?" says the Kid, examinin' the card. "I don't make you." + +"I said that my choice of weapons is rapiers!" explains this guy. "And +as a matter of fairness I must tell you that I have never met my equal +with a sword!" + +"Are you tryin' to kid me?" asks Scanlan. "What d'ye mean rapiers?" + +"Is it possible you have never handled a blade?" exclaims the other +guy, like he couldn't have heard it right. + +"I used to, at that," admits the Kid, "but now I use a fork, except to +pat down the potatoes!" + +"So much the worse for you, then!" frowns the sword-swallower. "But +you brought it upon yourself. Remember, to-morrow! And--" he stoops +over and hisses, "--rapiers, without buttons!" + +"Ha, ha!" yells the Kid. "Raypeers without buttons! How are you gonna +hold 'em up?" + +"Your ignorance is pathetic--not funny!" answers the other guy. + +"I know," says the Kid. "I barely got through Yale!" He lays his arm +on this guy's shoulder. "Are you on the level with this fight thing?" +he asks him. + +"I was never more in earnest in my life!" says the knife-thrower. + +"Or nearer Heaven!" grins the Kid. "All right!" he goes on. "I'm +game, if you are, only there's just one question I'd like to ask before +the slaughter begins; don't _I_ get no say about the tools we're gonna +use?" + +This guy thinks for a minute and then nods his head. + +"Very well!" he says. "I'll make the concession--an unheard-of thing +in the code. What is your choice?" + +"Pinochle!" yells the Kid. "I'll stake you to a hundred aces and beat +you from here to Denver!" + +"Ugh!" snorts the other guy--and castin' a sneer at both of us, he +passes in the gate. + +We went in after him, and the Kid tells me how he come to flatten this +baby, which, from the card he give us, was J. Harold Cuthbert. The Kid +says Harold stopped him outside the portals of Film City and asked him +why no auto had met him at the train. Scanlan says he didn't know, but +he had seen the mayor and two brass bands goin' down and hadn't Harold +met 'em? Harold says he had not and he was gonna file a complaint +about it, because he was the greatest movie actor that ever bawled out +a director. With that, says the Kid, he reeled off the names of the +pictures he had been featured in, and from the list he give out the +only thing he wasn't featured in was "Microbes at Play," a educational +film tore off by the company last year. The Kid asks him if he ever +heard of Kid Scanlan, the shop girls' delight, who was bein' starred in +a five-reeler called "Lay Off, MacDuff." Harold throwed out his chest +and says he wrote it and practically made Scanlan by directin' it. At +that the Kid tells him that he may be a movie star, but he looks like a +liar to him. Harold makes a pass at him, and Scanlan hit him to see +would he bounce. He didn't, and he was just comin' around when I +blowed on the scene. + +When we got to Genaro's office, Harold was tellin' Eddie Duke the +reason he was bunged up was because he had fell off the train comin' +out, and Eddie says that was tough and it was time Congress got after +them railroads, but the thing he'd like to know was why Harold had come +out at all. They had looked up the files and there was nothin' to show +who had ordered this guy shipped on. + +Harold looks over the bunch in the office for a minute, registers +"I-am-thinking-deeply," and then snaps his fingers. + +"Oh!" he says. "I had a letter of introduction from Mr. Potts, but I +suppose it's in my gray morning suit which will arrive with my trunks +in a day or so. Mr. Potts and myself are old friends," he winks at +Genaro confidentially. "I really think my father owns a slew of the +company's stock, but then Dad is connected with so many vast +enterprises that--" + +"Joosta wan minoote!" interrupts Genaro, turnin' a cold eye on Harold. +"Joosta wan minoote! We're very busy joosta now, sometime nex' week +everybody she'sa listen about your father. What we wanna know is what +Meester Potts he'sa senda you out here to do?" + +"Yeh!" says Duke. "That's the idea--what's your act?" + +"Why, I intend to play romantic leads," pipes Harold, "and I have an +idea that--" + +"Ha, ha!" laughs the Kid. "That's fair enough. All Edison had was a +idea, and look at him now!" + +Harold frowns at him and walks over to Miss Vincent. + +"How do you do, Miss Vincent," he says, takin' off his hat and +presentin' her with a bow. "I knew you at once from your photographs. +I have a remarkable memory, inherited from my father. The late J. P. +Morgan once said of him, during the course of a gigantic stock deal, +that--but enough of personalities. I saw you in the 'Escapades of +Eva.'" + +"Did you like me?" smiles Miss Vincent. + +"Very much!" Harold tells her. "Although the mediocre support and +execrable direction spoiled most of your opportunities. Now if _I_ had +directed that picture, you would have been a great deal--" + +"Joosta wan minoote!" butts in Genaro, gettin' red in the face. "I, +Genaro, directed that picture!" + +Harold looks over at him and lights a cigarette. + +"Well," he says, flickin' the ash in Genaro's drinkin' glass, "I +daresay you did your best! But had _I_ been there when the picture was +being produced, I would have suggested a great many things that would +have greatly improved it. I remember calling Belasco's attention to a +detail one time and Dave said to me--" + +"Enough!" snaps Genaro, glarin' at him. "You will report to Meester +Duke. He'sa tella you what to do. Or maybe," he snorts, "maybe _you_ +tella heem!" + +And he stamps out of the office. + +"What a quaint little man!" says Harold, sittin' down in Genaro's chair +and glancin' with interest over some letters that was on his desk. +"How do those chaps ever get into the movies?" + +"Ow!" whispers Duke. "If the quaint little man had only heard that!" +He turns, to Harold. "I don't know where I can place you right away," +he says. "How are you on Shakespeare? We're putting on a seven reeler +of 'As You Like It' with Betty Vincent as Rosalind. Do you think you +could do Orlando?" + +Harold throws out his chest and sneers. + +"What a question!" he remarks. "I could eat it up!" + +"I don't want you to eat it," says Duke, gettin' sore. "If you can +play it, I'll be satisfied! You had better go over and register at the +hotel now, and, when you come back, we'll go over the thing." + +Harold gets up, yawns and looks at Miss Vincent. + +"I'll show you an entirely new interpretation of Rosalind, Miss +Vincent," he tells her. "Of course, Shakespeare was clever after a +fashion, but _I_--however," he breaks off and holds out his arm. +"Would you care to walk about the grounds here a bit, so that I may +illustrate some of the salient points in my version?" + +"No!" cuts in the Kid, before she can answer. "On your way!" he says. +"Miss Vincent's got a date with me to find out is it true you can make +ninety miles an hour in a 1921 Automatic!" + +"But--but, my dear sir--" splutters Harold. "I--you--" + +"Listen, Stupid," says the Kid. "I can't be bouncin' you all day, but +if you don't canter along, I'll make you hard to catch!" + +Miss Vincent smiles and grabs the Kid by the arm. + +"Let us have no violence!" she says. "You can tell me all about +Rosalind when I return, Mr. Cuthbert." + +"Yeh," adds the Kid. "I'll be willin' to stand for a earful of it +myself, then." + +And they breeze out of the office. + +"Heavens, what an uncouth ruffian!" pipes Harold, lookin' after 'em. +"I wonder Miss Vincent trusts herself in his company." + +"She's a whole lot safer with him than you'd be, old top!" I says. +"And if I was you, I'd lay off that uncouth ruffian stuff around the +Kid. Don't keep temptin' him, because he's liable to get sore, and +when Scanlan gets mad you want to be in the next county!" + +"Huh!" sneers Harold. "What does he do, pray?" + +"Well," I says, "I'll tell you. I don't get that dewpray thing of +yours, but the last time the Kid got peeved he won the welterweight +title! Is that good enough?" + +"He had better look to his laurels," remarks Harold, "for if he insults +me again, he'll lose them! I'm rather a master of boxing, and at home +I won several medals as an amateur heavy--" + +"I suppose," I butts in, "I suppose you left them medals in one of them +gray mornin' suits of yours, eh? You didn't have 'em on when the Kid +flattened you, did you?" + +"I am not fond of vulgar display," he says, "or--" + +"What are you wearin' that black eye for then?" I asks him. + +He didn't have none ready for that, and I blew. + +Well, Harold run true to form. + +The next afternoon I seen Duke standin' near the African Desert. He +was callin' upon Heaven in a voice that could be heard plainly in Cape +May, N. J., to ask it if it had ever seen a actor like J. Harold +Cuthbert. Not gettin' no answer, he turned his attention to the other +place, and when he seen me he put it up to me. + +"What's the matter with Harold?" I asks him. "I thought he was gonna +be a knockout in this Shakespeare stuff." + +"He was!" says Duke. "The camera men are laughin' yet! Alongside of +that big four-flusher, Kid Scanlan would look like Richard Mansfield!" + +"He's rotten, eh?" I says. + +"Rotten?" yells Duke. "Why, say--callin' him _rotten_ is givin' him a +_boost_! If that big stiff is an actor, I'm mayor of Shantung! He +don't know if grease paint is to put on your face or to seal letters +with, he's got the same faculty of expression on that soft putty map of +his as an ox has, he makes love like a wax dummy and he come out to +play 'As You Like It' in a dress suit! It took eight supers to keep +him away from in front of the camera, and he played one scene with his +face glued up against the lens!" + +Just then Harold himself eases into view with the Kid taggin' along at +his side. Scanlan is excited about somethin' and wavin' his arms, but +Harold still has that old sneer on his face, and as they come up, I +hear him sayin' this, + +"My dear fellow, I know more about auction pinochle than Hoyle. At +home I am recognized as the champion card player of--" He breaks off, +when he sees us, and turns to Duke. "Hello!" he calls over. "Are you +ready to admit now that my idea of making feature productions is the +right one?" + +"No!" snarls Duke. "But I'll concede that as an actor you're a +crackerjack bartender! D'ye mean to tell me that you got away with +that kind of stuff in the studios back East?" + +"I introduced it!" says Harold, proudly. "As a director for some of +the largest film companies in the world, I have put on hundreds of--" + +"The only thing you ever put on was your hat!" interrupts Duke. "And I +bet that give you trouble on account of the size of your head. I +suppose you're gonna tell me that you're also a scenario writer, a +camera man and the guy that got Nero's permission to film the burnin' +of Rome, eh?" + +"The last is something of an exaggeration," pipes Harold, "but as far +as the other things you mentioned are concerned, I must confess that +there are few people in the business who have approached me!" + +"Ain't that rich?" whispers the Kid to me. "You got to hand it to this +bird!" + +"You'd be a wonder as a press agent!" I says to Harold. + +"Now that's odd you should remark that," he smiles. "For, as a matter +of fact, I excel in _that_ field! I did all the press work for--" + +"Columbus!" yells Duke, wavin' him off. "Good-by!" he goes on. "I got +enough! You got a liar lookin' like George Washington!" + +Harold looks after Duke as he went into the office. + +"Heavens!" he says. "I can't stand that man with his petty little +jealousies! Now when I--" + +I don't know what the rest of it was, because me and the Kid left him +to tell it to the African Desert. + +Well, Genaro bein' afraid to get in dutch with Potts, which accordin' +to Harold was a ex-roommate of his, give this guy a crack at everything +from directin' to supin', and Harold hit .000 at 'em all. The only +thing he seemed to be any good at was talkin' about himself, and he was +champion of the world at that! He was willin' to concede that +Wellington beat Napoleon and it was Fulton who doped out the steamboat, +but _he_ was the guy that had put over everything else. His favorite +word only had one letter in it, and that's the one that comes right +after H. No matter what subject would come up anywheres where Harold +could get a earful of it, he was the bird that invented it! + +We went down to Montana Joe's one afternoon to deal prohibition a blow, +and the Kid gets talkin' about drinkin' as a art, carelessly lettin' +fall the information that, before he had put the Demon Rum down for the +count, he had been looked on as a champion at goin' through the rye. +He winks at Joe and orders a tumbler of private stock. Harold never +bats a eye, but says he's got a roomful of lovin' cups which was give +him for emptyin' bottles. Joe sets down a mixin' glass full of booze +before the Kid, and Scanlan looks at Harold and asks Joe what was the +matter with the shaker. Harold coughs and raps on the bar. "You may +let me have a seidel of gin!" he says, sneerin' at the Kid--and we all +fainted! + +He got run out the south gate one afternoon by a enraged scene painter +for tellin' the latter that he could shut both eyes, bind one arm, lay +flat on his side and paint a better exterior than the two hundred +dollar a week decorator, and he started a riot in the developin' room +another time by remarkin' that the bunch in there didn't know how to +paste up film--adding of course, that _he_ did. He tried to show Van +Aylstyne how to write scenarios, and Van Aylstyne threatened to quit +cold if Harold wasn't called off, and when he found fault with Genaro's +lightin' of a night scene, Genaro chased him all over the place with a +practical shotgun. + +It wouldn't have been so bad, if Harold had come through on +_somethin'_. If he had discovered _anything_, he could actually do +even half way decent, he would have got away with murder. But +no!--That bird was the original No Good Nathan, from Useless, Miss. + +The fact that he didn't cause no sensation in our midst, worried Harold +about as much as the price of electric fans keeps 'em awake in Iceland. +There was only one thing Harold was afraid of--and that was lockjaw! + +Then Potts blows in unexpected one afternoon, and we all stood around +to see him and Harold fall on each other's neck. In fact, pretty near +everybody in Film City watched the reunion which took place on the edge +of the Street Scene in Tokio--it was very affectin'. + +Potts comes walkin' along with three supers and Eddie Duke carryin' his +suitcases, when Harold bumps into the parade at the corner. Genaro had +sent him over to Frisco for a lot of props that would be needed in a +picture he was puttin' on, and naturally, now that Potts was on hand, +he was anxious to have everything O.K. He had give Harold a list in +the mornin' that read like a inventory of a machine shop, and here's +friend Harold comin' back with nothin' in his hands but his fingers. + +"The props--where are they?" shrieks Genaro. "Seven hour you have been +gone and you come back with nothing! Everything she'sa ready and we +musta wait till you come with the props--where are they--queek?" + +"My dear fellow," says Harold, bowin' to Miss Vincent, "there is no +excuse for addressing me before these ladies and gentlemen in that +ruffianly manner. I was unable to carry out your--er--orders this +morning, having overlooked a trifling detail in the scurry and bustle +of catching that ungodly early train." + +"What!" screams Genaro, doin' a few cabaret steps. "You got nothing? +_Sapristi_! What you do--make fun of me? Why you no get those props?" + +"Calm yourself!" pipes Harold. "I'll tell all. I forgot the list of +articles you gave me and--" + +"Aha--he'sa maka me crazee!" yelps Genaro, pullin' a swell clog step. +"Take heem away before I keel heem!" + +Just then Potts comes by, and we all yell, "Welcome to Film City, Mr. +Potts!" Harold hears this and turns pale. He seen we was all watchin' +closely for the grand reunion between him and his old college chum +Potts. He coughs a couple of times and takes a step forward. That boy +was game! + +"How do you do, Mr. Potts?" he says. "Did you--er--have a pleasant +trip?" + +"Yes," answers Potts, lookin' at him kinda puzzled. "What is your name +again? I don't seem to recall it!" + +And the boss was supposed to be Harold's dear old college chum! + +"Why--er--why--ha! ha!" pipes Harold, dyin' game. "That's odd! Surely +you recall--eh--Cuthbert, my name is, you must remember--eh--why in New +York we--eh--" + +He's about eighty feet up in the air and still soaring with the whole +bunch watchin' him and enjoyin' the thing out loud. Potts is lookin' +him over like he's a strange fish or somethin'. + +"I think you're mistaken!" pipes the boss, cuttin' in on Harold, "I +never saw you before in my life!" + +With that he passes on, leavin' Harold flat and with no more friends +than China had at the Peace Conference. + +After that little incident, it was about as pleasant for Harold in Film +City as it was for a German in Liverpool durin' the war. Genaro, Duke +and everybody else went out of their way to make him sick of the +movies, but Harold stuck around and took whatever odd jobs that come +his way with the remark that he could do it better than anybody else +and that was why they give it to him. + +I made a mistake when I said everybody rode him--he had three little +pals. They was Miss Vincent, the Kid and yours in the faith. Miss +Vincent claimed that after all he was only a boy which would grow out +of lyin', if give enough time, and it was a outrage the way everybody +picked on him. The Kid said we couldn't all be perfect, and Miss +Vincent would give him back his presents if he laid off Harold. _My_ +excuse for not shootin' Harold was that I liked one thing about him, +and that was the way he hung on, no matter how they was breakin' for +him. He was no good all over, but he wouldn't _quit_ and any guy that +could stand up under punishment like he did is worth a cheer any +time--and sometimes a bet! + +I thought I'd brighten his life by tellin' him how he stood with the +three of us. I pictured him goin' down on his knees and thankin' me +with tears in his eyes, when I said that we was with him to the bitter +end. He must have had rheumatism or a pair of charley horses, because +he failed to do any kneelin' where I could see it, and his eyes was as +dry as the middle of Maine. Instead of that, he took me for ten bucks +and said the news was no surprise to him. He didn't see how Miss +Vincent could miss likin' him, because he had been a assassin with the +women from birth. As for the Kid, well, it was common talk that +Scanlan was afraid of him, and I was nothin' but a sure-thing player +which knowed he was a winner and stuck, hopin' I'd cash. + +Could you tie Harold? + +Van Aylstyne, the guy that committed the scenarios, went out one night +to get some atmosphere for a thriller at Montana Joe's. He got the +atmosphere O.K., bringin' most of it back on his breath and the Kid +asked him to stick out his tongue so he could see was they any revenue +stamps on it. In the mornin' he grabbed a container of ice water and a +pen and dashed off a atrocity in five reels based on what atmosphere of +Montana Joe's that was still with him. He called the thing "The End of +the World!" Potts says the title alone sounded good enough to him to +remove the bumpers from his bankroll without lookin' further, addin', +in a loud aside, that if the plot wasn't a knockout, Van Aylstyne could +change the title to "The End of My Job!" De Vronde, the popular +heart-breaker, is given the lead opposite Miss Vincent, and, of course, +Kid Scanlan is to be dragged in as a special feature. Harold has +hypnotised Genaro into lettin' him take off a "enter with others" in +the first reel. Everything was ready to have the cameras pointed at +it, when somethin' come along that balled it all up. + +Her name was Gladys O'Hara. + +Gladys was no ravin' beauty and I heard her say "ain't it" twice, but +she was one of them dames that the first flash you get at 'em you +wonder are they still enforcin' the law against mashers! She had a +wonderful complexion and although if you looked close you could see she +had give nature a helpin' hand, she did the retouchin' so well that you +was glad she had. She had one of the latest model, twin-six figures +and she dressed with the idea of givin' the natives a treat, even if +she was takin' chances on pneumonia. Gladys was the kind of dame that +starts the arguments in the newspapers on what is our offices comin' +to, look how them stenographers dress! + +When J. Harold Cuthbert met Gladys, she had got as far as bein' a +saleslady in the Busy Bee, Frisco. She could have beat that with her +eyes closed, but Gladys kept hers open and, bein' a female wise guy, +she knew who to eat lunch with and who to say, "I don't get you!" +to--which is a art! As a result, she had never got no further than +sellin' shirtwaists and had her first home to break up. She never +advanced beyond that counter--up or down! Many a necktie salesman had +flashed Gladys and gone right out to buy the tickets, before he even +asked her would she look over a show, windin' up by throwin' 'em away +and tellin' her what a sweet old woman his mother was and how strong he +was for his own gas meter. That was Gladys. She looked like what she +wasn't, and she fooled 'em all. + +All but Harold! + +I found Gladys very easy to look at myself, and I helped the Sante Fe +over a tough year by runnin' over to Frisco to the Busy Bee whenever I +could get away. It took me a short month to find out that I had the +same chance of winnin' out as I'd have of gettin' elected King of +Montenegro by acclamation, because Harold had been there first and got +in his deadly work. + +I was standin' in the next aisle to where Gladys held forth, one +afternoon, waitin' for a couple of fatheads to call it a day and move +away from the counter, when along comes Harold. As usual, he was all +dressed up like a horse, with the even fare back to Film City in them +one-way pockets of his. He butts right into the conversation, and I +nearly fainted when he passes a box of candy over to Gladys. Then I +seen the label on the package, and I revived, because it was one of a +dozen that some simp had sent Miss Vincent and in order to please the +Kid she had give 'em all away. Harold had brought his all the way over +to Frisco on a ticket furnished by the Maudlin Movin' Picture Company, +which sent him over for props. + +Well, Harold gets warmed up and in a minute he's press agentin' himself +at the rate of fifty-five words a minute--I clocked him! He tells +Gladys he's bein' _starred_ in "The End of the World" and the amount of +money they're payin' him would startle Europe, if it ever got out. He +claims he made 'em all faint at the rehearsals and offers from other +companies is comin' in so fast that he's got a charley horse on his +thumb from openin' telegrams. From that he works into the fact that +after the picture is made he's gonna run around Europe--that's just the +way he said it, "Run around Europe!" Oh, boy!--that bein' the way he +usually spent his vacations. When Gladys staggers over to wait on a +customer, Harold charges himself up again and when she comes back he's +off to a runnin' start. He remarks that his father has just made a +killin' in Wall Street that has caused Rockefeller to weep and gnash +his teeth and that the last affair his mother give at Newport got four +columns on the front page, although the mayor of the town had been shot +the same afternoon. + +Gladys takes this all in with her mouth as open as Kelly pool and her +eyes half closed and dreamy like she was dyin' happy. + +When Harold put on the brakes and eased up, she throwed him a look that +I would have walloped Dempsey for. Harold says he must go, because the +picture would be ruined if he wasn't there to direct it, and Gladys +holds out a tremblin' hand. Then Harold plays his ace--he takes off +his hat, bows, kisses that hand and blows. + +When I seen Gladys deliberately walk back of the wrappin' booth, put +her hand to her lips and kiss it herself--I pulled my hat down over my +ears and went back to Film City. + +The next mornin' they begin work on the first reel of "The End of the +World," and Harold had a field day at bein' rotten. He got in +everybody's way, ruined twenty feet of film by firin' off a cannon at +the wrong time and made Genaro hysterical by gettin' caught in a papier +mache tower and pullin' it down. Not content with that, he goes back +of a interior to try out one of the Kid's cigarettes and by simply +flickin' the thing into a can of kerosene he set the Maudlin Movin' +Picture Company back about five hundred bucks. + +They run him out of the picture, and he went, yellin' that it would be +a farce without him in it. + +About four o'clock me and the Kid is trottin' along the road outside of +Film City like we did every day so's Scanlan could keep in condition, +when we all but fell over Harold. He's sittin' on a rock and gazin' +off very sad in the general direction of New York. His dashin', +smashin', soft hat was yanked down over his home-breakin' face, and his +dimpled chin was buried in his lily white hands. He looked like a guy +that has worked twenty-seven years inventin' a new steamboat and then +seen it sink the first time he tried it out. + +The Kid runs over and slaps him on the back just hard enough to make +his hat fall off. + +"Cheer up, Cutey!" pipes Scanlan. "They can't hang a guy for tryin'!" + +Harold retrieves his hat, smoothes it out carefully and lets loose the +gloomiest sigh I ever heard in my life. + +"Have you a cigarette?" he asks sadly. + +The Kid pulls out a deck, and Harold takes two, droppin' one in his +pocket. + +"Alas!" he remarks, strikin' a match on my shoe. "Alas!" + +"When can the body be seen?" asks Scanlan. "And is it a church funeral +or will they pull it off at the house?" + +"This is no time for levity," mutters Harold. "I'm ruined!" + +"I only got ten bucks with me," the Kid tells him, "but I'll part +with--" + +"Poof!" sneers Harold, wavin' his hands like a head waiter. "Money! I +am not in need of that. Why, my father--" He breaks off to take the +bill from the Kid's hand and shove it in his pocket. "Rather than +offend you!" he explains. "No," he goes on, "this is a more serious +matter than money. I--" He flicks away the cigarette, jumps up off +the rock and gives us both the up and down. "I am going to take you +two into my confidence," he says, "and perhaps you will help me." + +"Go on!" encourages the Kid. "I'm all worked up--shoot it!" + +"Well, then," says Harold, with the air of a guy pleadin' guilty to +save his old father. "In the first place, my name is not J. Harold +Cuthbert!" + +There was no answer from us, and Harold seemed peeved because we had +not collapsed at his confession. + +"What is it?" I asks, when the silence begin to hurt the ears. + +"Trout!" pipes Harold, bitterly. "Joe Trout!" + +"Yeh?" says the Kid. "Well, what's the matter with that? What did you +can it for?" + +"Ha, ha!" hisses Harold, with a "curse you!" giggle. "Where could a +man get with a name like _that_?" + +"In the aquarium!" yells the Kid. "I knew you'd fall!" + +Harold shakes his head and blows himself to another sigh. + +"Imagine a moving picture leading man named Trout!" he goes on. "I +changed my name as a sacrifice to the movies, for--" + +"Just a minute!" I butts in. "On the level now, where _did_ you get +your movin' picture experience?" + +"As assistant bookkeeper in a grocery store!" he answers. "Now you +have it!" + +"But you said your father was a big man in Wall Street!" I busts out. + +"He is!" answers Harold, lookin' over at the Santa Fe. "They don't +come any bigger. He's a traffic policeman at the corner of Broadway +and Wall Street and stands six foot four in his socks!" + +"Sweet Cookie!" shouts the Kid, and falls off the rock. + +When we recover from that, Harold has smoked the other cigarette, and +he nods for my box. Then he asks us do we want to hear the rest. + +"If you don't tell it," says the Kid, "you'll never leave here alive! +Hurry up, I'm dyin' to hear it!" + +"Well," says the ex-J. Harold Cuthbert, "I am about to be married and +at the eleventh hour Nemesis has gripped me. I told my fiancée that I +was being featured in 'The End of the World' and that it would be +exceedingly easy for me to get _her_ a part in the picture--she having +expressed a desire to that effect at various times. She will be here +within the hour to watch me being filmed and to hold me to my promise +to place her as leading woman opposite me." He stops and moans. +"Gentlemen," he goes on, "picture for yourself the contretemps when she +finds I am nothing but a super and that Genaro wouldn't give Sarah +Bernhardt a job on a recommendation from me! My romance will be +shattered, and the--the humiliation will kill me!" + +There was a heavy silence for a minute, and then the Kid whistles. + +"Well, pal," he says, "you have certainly balled things up a few, +haven't you?" + +Joe Trout just let loose another moan. + +"Gimme one of them good cigarettes!" pipes the Kid to me. He lights it +and looks over at friend Joe. "The first thing," he says, puffin' +away; "the first thing, is this--just how _much_ do you think of this +dame, all jokes aside?" + +Joe turns around and straightens up, for once in his life lookin' like +the real thing. + +"I love her!" he says. That was all--but the way he pulled it was a +plenty! + +The Kid grunts and tosses away the pill. Then he walks over to Joe and +slaps him on the back. + +"Listen!" he says. "You ain't a bad guy at that. I'm gonna give you +somethin' I never took in my life--advice! Why don't you lay off lyin' +about yourself, kid? Why don't you can that four-flush thing?" + +The effect of them simple words on Joe was remarkable. He swung around +on us so quick that we both ducked, thinkin' he was comin' back with a +wallop--but his hands was sunk so deep in his coat pockets they liked +to pushed through the linin' and his face was as hard and white as an +iceberg. + +"Because!" he shoots out through his teeth. "_Because I can't_!" + +Y'know the change was so sudden, I remember lettin' out a little +nervous laugh, and then sidesteppin' a vicious left the Kid sent at me. +Scanlan had turned as serious as the other guy. + +"What d'ye mean, you _can't_?" he says, grabbin' Joe by the arm and +holdin' him fast. Joe's face showed how hard he was fightin' to keep +from fallin' apart. + +"You won't understand!" he answers in a hard voice. "But I'll tell +you. The thing has grown upon me until I cannot shake it off! I guess +I was born a liar and probably four-flushed my nurse when I was three +days old. When I was a boy, my incessant lying, although it harmed no +one but myself, kept me in countless scrapes. As I grew older, the +habit grew stronger and I lost girls, jobs, friends and opportunities +with breath-taking rapidity. Time after time I have sworn to rid +myself of the thing and speak nothing but the undiluted truth, and the +first time I open my mouth I find myself unconsciously telling the most +astounding falsehoods about myself with an ease that nauseates me!" He +tore himself loose from the Kid and kicked a innocent tomato can down +the canyon. "I know I'm nothing but a big four-flusher," he winds up, +"and I can't help it!" + +Right then and there I warmed up to Joe Trout like I never had before. +After all, Miss Vincent had the right dope--he was nothin' but a big +kid at that, and any guy that will come right out in public and admit +he's a false alarm, deserves credit! + +"Well," he says after a minute, "I suppose you're both through with me +now, eh?" + +"Do I look like a quitter?" demands the Kid. + +"I'm still here, ain't I?" I chimes in. + +Joe coughs and took hold of our hands. + +"Thanks!" he mutters. "And now---" + +"Listen!" interrupts the Kid. "I got the whole thing doped out. When +is this dame of yours due to hit Film City?" + +"She'll be here on that one o'clock train," moans Joe. + +"Fine!" says the Kid. "Now get this! De Vronde is supposed to do a +fall from a horse in 'The End of the World' and the big yellow bum +won't do it. They're lookin' for some guy that will take his place, +just for that one flash, see? Now suppose I fix it so you get that +chance and when the dame comes on, there you are playin' the lead as +far as she can see, in the best part of the frolic. How's that?" + +I thought Joe was gonna kiss him! + +"I'll never forget it!" he hollers. "You have saved my life! What can +I do to repay you?" + +"Stop four-flushing," comes back the Kid, "and be on the level!" + +"I'll do it, if it kills me!" promises Joe--and I don't know whether he +meant the fall or the other. + +"Can you ride a horse?" the Kid asks him as we start back. + +"Can _I_ ride a horse?" repeats Joe, stoppin' short. "What a question! +Why at home I was the champion--" + +"Now, now!" butts in the Kid. "There you go again!" + +"Pardon me!" says Joe, gettin' red--and he quits! + +Well, the Kid fixed it all right, so's Joe could double for De Vronde +in that one place where he did the fall. I don't know how he did it +any more than I know how Edison come to think of the phonograph, but he +did! All my suspicions as to who the dame was come true when Gladys +hops off the one o'clock train that afternoon. I seen her talkin' to +Eddie Duke near the African Desert, and I immediately went scoutin' +around for Joe, because Eddie liked him the same way the brewers is +infatuated with the Anti-Saloon League and I knowed if Eddie got a +chance to harpoon Joe with Gladys, he'd do that thing. + +About half a hour later, Genaro asks me to go over and find Potts, +because they're ready to start shootin' the picture and when I got near +the hotel I seen a couple of people blockin' the little narrow passage +in back of it. They was Gladys O'Hara and Joe Trout and when I got +close up I heard Joseph talkin'. He was goin' like a house on fire and +his little old lyin' apparatus was hittin' on all cylinders and runnin' +smooth without a break. He explains to Gladys that he went on only in +the important part of the picture which she would see in a minute, and +that De Vronde was only one of the cheap help who played the part while +_he_ was restin' for the big scene. As soon as that come up--and he +said the whole picture was built around it--they give De Vronde the +gate and in went the darin' Joe. + +He was all dressed up in a Stetson hat, a cute little yellow silk +handkerchief twisted around his manly neck and more chaps than any cow +puncher ever wore on his legs outside of a movie. He looked like what +he'd liked to have been. + +"--and not only that," he winds up, "but they are going to feature my +name on all the advertising for the picture!" + +"Is that all?" asks Gladys in a queer little voice. + +Joe looked surprised. I guess it was the first time anybody had asked +for more! + +"Well--no!" he starts off again briskly. "Of course, I am--" + +"Wait!" says Gladys, grabbin' his arm. "Don't tell me any more lies! +They are not featuring you in this or any other picture! You are not +the leading man, you are only a super! Your father is not a +millionaire and you cannot get me a job with the Maudlin Moving Picture +Company! You're simply a big four-flusher and that lets you out!" + +Say! On the level, I thought Joe was gonna pass away on his feet! If +I was give to faintin', I'd have been stretched out cold, myself. He +got white and then he got red, then he got white again and red again +for fully a minute. He tried eighteen times by actual count to say +something but that well known tongue of his had laid down at last and +quit! He couldn't even raise a whisper. + +"I knew you were four-flushin' the first time you started to hand me +that stuff!" goes on Gladys, sweetly. "I happen to know the folks +here, includin' the leadin' man, De Vronde. He was hangin' around that +shirtwaist counter before you knew whether they made pictures here or +sponge cake. Also, some of your friends come over from time to time +and tipped me off about you, so that I was all set when you started!" + +Joe whirls around on her at that, and although this bird had beat me to +the wire with Gladys, I felt sorry for him right then. The poor kid +was hangin' on the ropes waitin' for somebody to throw in the sponge. + +"If you knew all that," he says, kinda choked, "why--why did you let me +come over and continue to--to mislead you?" + +Gladys coughs and places three or four stray hairs exactly back of her +little white ear, gazin' at her wrist watch like it's the first time +she ever seen one, and she's wonderin' can it really go. The big boob +stands there lookin' at her and the chance of a couple of lifetimes is +slippin' away. What? Say, listen! I don't know much about +women--fighters is my line--but there was a look on Gladys's face that +I'd seen Genaro work two hours one time to put on Miss Vincent's when +they was takin' a big picture. So you can figure she wasn't +registerin' hate! + +"Well, why?" demands Joe again. + +"This stuff is all new to me," says Gladys, with a sigh, "but I guess +I've got to do it!" She gazes at the ground and gets kinda red. "It +was not your conversation that made the hit with me!" she winds up +softly. + +"I'm afraid I don't understand," pipes Senseless Joe. + +"Heavens!" remarks Gladys. "There's enough concrete between your neck +and your hat to build a bridge over the bay! I can safely say you're +the first man I ever proposed to, but somebody's got to do it and I +guess I'm the goat!" + +"What!" screams Joe, comin' to life at last. +"You--you--forgive--you--" The poor simp gets all excited and once +again he can't talk and--I don't blame him. You never seen Gladys, and +you don't know how she looked right then! + +"Say!" says Gladys. "Am I bein' kidded or--" + +Joe might have been a tramp as a movie lover, but take it from me, as +the real thing he was no slouch! I hadda stand there and watch it, +because I couldn't get past till they got away and if they'd ever seen +me, I guess Joe would have bought a gun. Finally, they break, Gladys +pushin' Joe away and holdin' him off. + +"You've got to promise me you'll stop lyin' and four-flushin'!" she +tells him. "Tell the truth and don't kid yourself that you'd have been +President, if you hadn't been jobbed. That stuff is poor and will get +you nowheres. Make good and you won't have to tell anybody about +it--it'll be in the papers! As far as I can see, the best thing about +you right now is ME! If you can't get over with _that_, I'll see that +you do!" + +"We'll get married to-night!" yelps Joe. "There's a minister in Film +City and--" + +"Don't crowd me!" interrupts Gladys, lettin' herself be kissed. "Do +you promise?" + +"Anything!" grins Joe. + +"Just what _are_ you supposed to do in this picture?" she asks him. + +"Fall off a horse!" says Joe. + +"Is that all?" asks Gladys. + +Joe nods. + +"Well," Gladys tells him, "you won't do it! I don't want no crippled +bridegroom at my weddin'. Now listen to me! If you could _write_ that +stuff you've been wastin' on the air around here, you ought to make a +pretty good press agent. Mr. Potts, the man who owns the company and +the fellow you or your father _never_ palled around with, has a man on +his payroll named Struther. He's head of what they call the publicity +department, it says so on ten of his cards I have. He once claimed +he'd do anything for me in such a loud voice that the floorwalker had +to speak to him. I'm goin' over to the office now and ask him to give +you a job back in New York. To be perfectly truthful with you, that's +what I came over here for to-day in the first place!" + +"But--but," stammers Joe. "I can't have you asking favors for me, +Gladys, and--and, why New York?" + +"Because," she says, "that's where I come from, and I want to look at +it again--I'm simply crazy to yell down a dumbwaiter and throw a +quarter in my own gas meter!" + +Well--that's about all. They had a big weddin' right in the middle of +Film City and everybody sent in and bought 'em a present. Potts got a +flash at Gladys, moans regretfully and has the ceremony filmed, givin' +the result to Joe as a special gift. Of course Gladys got Joe that +job. That dame could have got frankfurters and sourkraut in Buckingham +Palace! Before they left for New York, I tried Joe out. + +"It'll be terrible here, when you're gone!" I says, "because you know +more about makin' movies than Rockefeller does about oil." + +Joe shakes his head and grins. + +"No!" he says. "I guess I don't know much about anything!" + +I pronounced him cured to myself and shook his hand. The Kid went to +the train with him and his bride. I didn't feel up to seein' that guy +goin' away with Gladys. + +I met the Kid as he was comin' up from the railroad station, and seein' +he was laughin', I asked him if the happy pair got off all right. + +"Yeh!" he says. "Everything went fine. Me and Miss Vincent waited +till the train was pullin' out. Gladys was inside and Joe was standin' +on the steps of the Pullman, talkin'. Just before the thing pulled +out, I shook Joe's hand and said I hoped he got past in New York, +because it was a big burg and a tough one for losers." The Kid stops +and laughs some more. + +"Well," I says, "what's the joke?" + +"Sweet Papa!" says the Kid, wipin' his eyes. "Joe's face lights all up +and that old glitter comes back in his eyes! + +"'Make good?' he yells to me. 'Well, I ought to make good--my father +owns half the town, and I was the biggest thing in it when I left!'" + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +"EXIT, LAUGHING" + +Every time I see one of them big, fat, dignified guys that looks like +they have laid somebody eight to five they can go through life without +smilin' once, I wonder just how much they'd give in American money to +be able to put on a suit of pink pajamas and walk down Fifth Avenue +some crowded afternoon, leadin' a green elephant by a string! + +I'll bet they's many a bank president, brigadier-general and what not, +that would part with their right eye if they could only force +themselves to let down for five minutes, can this dignity thing and +give a imitation of what a movie comedian thinks is humor. The best +proof of this is that the first chance any of them birds gets--_that's +just what they do_! + +Y'know, you've seen in the papers lots of times where Archibald Van +Hesterfeld has been among the starters in the bazaar for the relief of +the heat prostration victims in Iceland, or words to that effect. Or, +if it wasn't Archibald it might have been General Galumpus or Commodore +Fedink--or all of them. Away down at the bottom of the page, if it's a +copy of the Succotash Crossing _Bugle_, or right up in the headlines, +if it's a big town sheet, after readin' what dignity and so forth the +"distinguished guests lent to the affair," you'll see that at midnight +they was large doin's on the dance floor. It is even bein' whispered +around that the general, commodore or governor fox-trotted with the +girls from the Follies and one-stepped with such of the fair sex as +cared practically nothin' for the neighbors. Along about the time the +milkman was sayin', "Well, here's another day!", the well known +distinguished guests was actin' like a guy who knows a Harvard man +does, after they have beat Yale or vice versa. + +One of them birds acts so dignified at the office all day that not even +the most darin' of his clerks would _think_ of a joke in the same room +with him. He'll breeze home on baby's birthday with a trick lion or a +jumpin' jack for the kid, and spend three or four hours on the +dinin'-room floor makin' it go, while friend infant wishes to Heaven +father would call it a day and commence readin' the papers, so's _he_ +could toy with it for a while. + +The rest of the family stands around and tells each other that the old +man must have a good heart at that, because look how he goes out of his +way to amuse the baby. Father growls up at 'em and prays that they'll +all go to bed, includin' the one that's just learnin' to walk, so's he +can be let alone to really enjoy the thing himself! + +We're all babies at heart, and the reason most of us don't admit it and +give in to our childish desires is because we're afraid the people in +the next flat will think we're nutty or have found a way to beat +prohibition. Now and then some extry brave guy sneers at the neighbors +and lets himself loose, and shortly afterward a committee is appointed +to look after his money. Finally, he is shipped f.o.b. to some +sanitarium where a passin' nod from the head doctor is listed at +twenty-five bucks and where the victim is fed strange foods and tucked +in bed at the devilish hour of nine. + +This is naturally very discouragin' to the rest of us which was about +to tear loose ourselves, so we sigh, growl at the universe--and lay off! + +I feel sorry for the guys that have to have their comedy served up to +them in disguise, like lobster a la Newburg, for instance. These birds +claim they like stuff you got to study for five minutes before you get +it, and then at a given signal you pull a nice lady-like laugh, the +while remarkin', "How subtle!" You don't want to cackle too loud or +the people across the hall will get the idea that you're a tribe of +lowbrows, and it'll get said around that your great-grandfather was +known to go in hysterics over the funny sheet of the Sunday papers! + +They think the vaudeville or movie cut-up that does the funny falls is +a vulgar lunatic who ought to be in jail, and their idea of the height +of humor is the way a iceman pronounces décolleté, or somethin' like +that. + +I like my own comedy straight! I want it to wallop me right on the +laugher, so's I can get it the first time and giggle myself sick. I'm +extry strong for the loud and common guffaw, and I claim that because I +go into hysterics over the fat-man-on-the-banana-peel stuff, it don't +prove that I'm a heavy drinker, beat my wife and will probably wind up +in jail. On general principles I'm infatuated with the bird that can +make me laugh, and I don't care how he does it as long as he makes +good. I care not whether he laughs with me or for me, as long as +they's a snicker in there somewheres. I can even stand him laughin' at +me, because, if his stuff is funny enough--I'll laugh too! + +No guy who can look around him, no matter how things is breakin' for +him and see somethin' to laugh at as the mob goes by, is beat. That +bird is just gettin' ready to pull a new punch from somewheres and he's +the baby you want to watch! The guy that can't see nothin' funny in +life, whether he's eight or eighty, is through! + +Me and Kid Scanlan saved one of them guys. His name was Jason Van Ness. + +I was sittin' in Genaro's office one afternoon about seven or eight +months after me and the Kid had decided to give the movies a boost, +when the door opens and in comes a guy which at first glance I figured +must at least be the governor of the state. He's there with a cane, a +high hat and the general makeup of a Wall Street broker in a play where +he won't forgive his son for marryin' the ingenue. Also, he's built +all over like a heavyweight champ, except his face, the same runnin' to +the dignified lines of the bloodhounds, them big, flabby, over-lappin' +jaws--get me? + +"I say, old chap--are you Mister Genaro?" he pipes. + +"Nope!" I says. "I'm Johnny Green, manager of Kid Scanlan, +welterweight champion of the world." + +"Really!" he remarks. + +"Well," I says, "d'ye wanna see the contract or will we go over to a +notary so's I can swear to it?" + +At that he frowns and waves a finger at me. + +"Come, my man," he says, "no chaffing now! You may tell Mister Genaro +I have arrived! Of course you know who I am?" + +That "my man!" thing was a trifle more than I could take! I throws my +feet up on Genaro's desk and give this guy a long, careless once over, +puttin' everything I had on the stare. + +"I ain't got no more idea who you are," I tells him finally, "than a +oyster has of roller-skatin'. Who are you? I never seen _your_ face +on no postage stamps!" + +"Oh, I say!" he busts out, registerin' wild indignation. "Don't you +ever read the newspapers?" + +"Sure!" I says. "But then, escapin' convicts don't get much space in +'em any more! At that, I think I know you now, though." + +"I should think you jolly well would!" he comes back, calmin' down +some. "Why--" + +"Yes!" I goes on. "I got you. I've met so many from your lodge it's +funny I didn't recognize the high signs right away. You're a big, +tinhorn four-flusher!" + +Sweet Cookie! + +His face did a Georgie Cohan, gettin' red, white and blue by turns, and +he pawed the air, gaspin' for breath like a fat piano mover. Before he +can get set for a comeback, they's a loud crash outside the door, +followed by the well known dull thud. In another minute Kid Scanlan +walks in, draggin' somethin' after him by the back of the neck. + +"Look what _I_ found!" chirps the Kid, droppin' the thing on the floor. + +"By Jove!" squeals the big guy. "He's killed my dresser!" + +I got up from the chair and took a flash. Sure enough, the thing the +Kid had dragged in was a human bein'. He was a long, lean guy, lookin' +like he'd been over here about long enough to tell the judge that +George Washington discovered America, was president now and stopped the +Civil War, and can he please have his first papers, so's he can vote +against suffrage. + +His one good eye opens and examines the room. Then he hops off the +floor, shoots a hand inside his pocket and yanks it out with a thing +that looked like a undeveloped spear. + +"_Sapristi_!" he remarks loudly--and makes a dive at the Kid. + +The chair I throwed at him was wasted, because Scanlan stepped aside +and flattened the assassin with a left hook to the jaw. The big guy +gives one yell and rushes out of the office. + +"Who's your friend?" I asks the Kid, pointin' to the sleepin' beauty on +the floor. + +The Kid glares down at the body and prods it with his foot. + +"The big stiff!" he says. "I should have murdered him!" + +"Well," I tells him soothin'ly, "it ain't too late yet! What started +the mêlée?" + +He sits on the side of the desk and lights a cigarette. + +"This hick is standin' outside here," he begins, "when I come along as +peaceful as the Swiss navy. I see right away he's a Eyetalian, and I'm +anxious to show him I can talk his chatter so--" + +"Wait a minute!" I butts in. "Since when have _you_ been able to speak +Eyetalian?" + +"What?" he snorts. "Another one, eh? Ain't Miss Vincent been teachin' +me English, French, Eyetalian and what to do with the oyster fork?" + +"Is she?" I comes back. "That's all new to me. The last flash I got +you was just takin' up how to enter a room!" + +"Well, I'm past that," he explains, "and next week I begin on manners. +Anyhow, I see this boob standin' there, and I says to myself, here's a +chance to pull a little Eyetalian. So with that I stands in front of +him and says, '_Bomb Germo, Senorita--a vostrican salute_!'" + +The Kid stops and bangs his fist down on the table. + +"What d'ye think the big hick said?" he asks me. + +I passed. + +"He grins at me, waggles his shoulders and pipes, '_No spika da +Engleesh_!" + +"'What d'ye mean _English_!' I says. 'That ain't English, that's +Eyetalian, Stupid! _Bomb Germo Senorita_!' + +"'No spika da Engleesh,' he pipes again. + +"I grabs him by the shoulder and swing him around. + +"'What part of Italy was you born in?' I inquires. 'Hoboken?' + +"'No spika da Engleesh!' he grins. + +"By this time my goat was runnin' around wild. I grabbed his other +shoulder and looked him in the eye. + +"'I'll give you one more chance,' I says; 'cut the comedy now and come +through or you're gonna have some bad luck. _Bomb Germo Senorita_!' + +"'No spika da Engleesh!' he says. + +"With that, havin' took all a human bein' could stand, I let him fall!" + +"Just a minute!" I says, as Scanlan starts for the door. "I want to +ask you a question about the Eyetalian language, as long as you know so +much about it. Just what does _Bomb Germo_ mean?" + +The Kid stops and scratches his chin. + +"To tell you the truth," he admits, "I don't know!" + +At that the door opens and in blows Genaro with the big dignified guy +and "Bomb Germo" arises from the floor again, rubbin' the back of his +head. + +"What's a mat?" asks Genaro, lookin' very excited from me to the Kid. +"Why you knock him down Meester Van Ness bureau?" + +"Dresser!" corrects Van Ness, puttin' a round piece of glass over one +eye and glarin' at us. + +"'Scuse a me!" pipes Genaro, makin' a bow. "Why you knock him down +Meester Van Ness dresser?" + +The Kid growls at "Bomb Germo" who hisses back at him like a snake and +backs out of range of that left. + +"I asked him '_Bomb Germo_,'" explains Scanlan, "and he started to kid +me!" + +"_Bomb Germo_? _Bomb Germo_?" repeats Genaro. "What is she that _Bomb +Germo_?" + +Scanlan grunts at him in disgust. + +"You're a fine Eyetalian, you are!" he snorts. "I'll bet you and that +other guy don't know whether spaghetti is a outfielder or a race horse!" + +Van Ness removes the one-cylinder eyeglass for a minute and cleans it +with his "for display only" handkerchief. + +"Maybe," he remarks. "Maybe the fellow means to say '_Buona Juerno_!'" + +"Oh!" grins Genaro. "_Si_! He'sa mean 'Good morning!' No?" + +"Yes!" says the Kid. "Correct! Step to the head of the class. I told +that to Stupid there and he says, 'No spika da Engleesh!'" + +"Well," chirps Genaro, pattin' the Kid on the back, "let's all be the +friend now, no? What's the use hava the fight?" He turns to Van Ness +and takes his hand, "Meester Van Ness," he goes on, "thisa Meester Kid +Scanlan. He'sa tougha nut--but nica fel'. He'sa fighting champion of +the world. He'sa taka his fista _so_," he stops and waves his arms +around, "everybody she'sa falla down!" He swings around on the Kid. +"Meester Kid Scanlan," he pants, "thisa Meester Van Ness. He'sa greata +bigga actor. Oh, of the A numbera seven!" + +"Yeh?" says the Kid, registerin' "I-should-worry!" and gazin' over at +"Bomb Germo." "Well, that ain't my fault, is it? Who's the other guy?" + +"Guy?" says Genaro. "Whata guy?" + +"The phoney wop!" pipes the Kid, pointin' to the long, thin bird. + +"Oh, heem!" snorts Genaro, snappin' his fingers. "He'sa nobody. Justa +what you call the dresser for the granda Meester Van Ness." + +"He's got a name, ain't he?" asks the Kid. + +"Joosta Tony," answers Genaro. + +"Good enough!" comes back Scanlan, walking across the room. "Hey, +Tony!" he says. "They tell me you claim to be a Eyetalian." + +"That'sa right!" pipes Tony, forgettin' himself and scowlin'. + +"Well," goes on the Kid. "_Bomb Germo_!" + +"No spika da Engleesh!" frowns Tony, waggling his shoulders. + +"You big stiff!" roars the Kid, gettin' red in the face. "You won't +speak nothin' when I get done toyin' with that odd face of yours!" + +He makes a dive for Tony, but Genaro grabs him. + +"Joosta one minoote!" pants Genaro. "It'sa maka me laugh! Ho, ho, I +teenk I getta one, two hysterics! Fighting champion of the world, +he'sa getta mad at the dresser!" + +"By Jove!" pants Van Ness, givin' the Kid the up and down through the +trick eyeglass. "By Jove! I told Tony to converse with no one while +we were here. What does this--this person mean by buffeting him about? +I thought this company was composed of ladies and gentlemen, not +stevedores and longshoremen!" + +"Don't get gay, Fatty!" yells the Kid, strugglin' with Genaro. "I put +bigger actors than _you_ to sleep. I gotta left hand that's got +morphine lookin' like a alarm clock!" + +"Waita, waita!" shrieks Genaro. "We musta all be the friend. Joosta +waita when you and Meester Van Ness get better acquainta you'll be +joosta like--" + +"Germany and England!" butts in the Kid, tearin' himself away. "Come +on!" he tells me. "Let's get away from here," he glares at Van Ness +and Tony, "before certain parties makes any more cracks! If they +do--I'll make 'em look like models for The Dyin' Gladiator!" + +"Don'ta minda heem!" whispers Genaro to Van Ness, as we get over to the +door. "He'sa fina fel'. He'sa no hurta the _bambino_--what you call +ba-bee. Gotta taka bag of the salts with everything he'sa say. Gotta +lots temperament!" + +"A ruffian, _I_ should say!" remarks Van Ness loudly. + +"Bigga bunka!" hisses Tony. + +"What?" roars the Kid, swingin' around on them. + +"Good day, sir!" pipes Van Ness, steppin' back of the desk. + +"No spika da Engleesh!" says Tony, steppin' in back of his boss. + +I yanked the Kid outside before violence was had by all. + +Jason Van Ness stayed at Film City for about two months. Durin' that +time he made as many friends as the ex-Kaiser would pick up in Paris. +They was two reasons for this, the first bein' that he was the most +dignified and solemn guy I ever seen in my life. Stories that would +put a victim of lockjaw in hysterics couldn't coax a snicker from that +undertaker's face of his which would have made a supreme court justice +look like a clown. In fact, if he'd been a judge and I ever come up +before him, I would have took one flash at that face and asked him to +gimme life and let it go at that! His favorite smokin'-room story was +what causes spots on the sun or somethin' equally excitin', and pretty +soon they was a standin' offer of a hundred bucks to the first guy that +could make Van Ness laugh! + +Some of the greatest comedians the movies ever seen laid awake nights +and become famous on stunts they pulled off for the sole benefit of Van +Ness--and all he did was to inquire if they was crazy or soused! + +The second reason that Van Ness was as unpopular as snow durin' the +world's series was because he was the greatest actor that ever moaned +for the star's dressin'-room. + +He was brought on to play the lead in one of them early Roman frolics +where the extry people is called "martyrs" and hurled to the practical +lions in the last reel, whilst the emperor raises his hand for the +slaughter to begin, murmurin' "This is the end of a perfect day!" When +Jason Van Ness walked to the middle of the arena, throwed one end of +his cloak over his shoulder, faced the camera and give himself up to +actin'--well, you forgot all his bad habits and thanked Heaven for +lettin' you live to see him! + +That baby was there! + +He was stuck up, he had no friends, he wouldn't laugh, and he had a +trick name and carried a dresser, but, Sweet Papa!--he was _some_ actor! + +The Kid and me stood watchin' him the first time he worked, with our +eyes and mouths as open as a mobile crap tourney. + +"Ain't he a bear?" asks Eddie Duke, comin' up. "That's all two-dollar +stuff he's pullin' there, bo! Y' don't see actin' like that every day, +eh?" + +"Oh, I don't know!" says the Kid, takin' a fresh slant at Van Ness. "I +bet I could give him a battle in Shakespeare, at that! I was a riot in +'Richard the Third,' wasn't I?" + +"Cease!" sneers Duke. "This bird has got them classics layin' down and +rollin' over when he snaps his fingers. Did you ever see him in 'Quo +Vadis'?" + +"No!" says the Kid. "But I seen him in tights when they was--" + +Just then Miss Vincent comes along. She's in the picture with Van +Ness, playin' the beautiful Christian martyr which is tied to the +lion's back in the fourth reel, because she won't quit chantin' "Now I +lay me--" or somethin' like that. After that they throw her to the +panthers with Abe Mendelowitz, another Christian martyr and the guy +that built the scene. She told me that was the story of the thing, and +asked me what I thought of it. Personally, I think them martyrs was a +lot of boobs. If I'd have been there, I would have bent the knee +before them heathen idols and then done my private prayin' elsewhere. +The head martyr might have called me yellah, but no lion would have +broke his fast on me! + +While I'm thinkin' about this, Miss Vincent reminds me that she's +waitin' for my verdict on the thing. The last I heard her say was +about bein' tied to that lion. + +"Well," I says, "I'll tell you. I think it's pretty soft for the lions +myself and--" + +"How are you and Stupid gettin' along?" butts in the Kid, pointin' to +Van Ness and touchin' Miss Vincent's arm. + +She frowns. + +"You mustn't call him Stupid!" she says. "Mister Van Ness is an artist +and a gentleman--and--and right now I want to tell you that I think all +you men are wicked for the way you have been treating him! Here he is +away out here, a stranger in a strange land, and simply because he is +above the vulgar horseplay so popular around here, you ostracize him. +Because his grammar and dress is perfect he is a pariah! Don't you +think he feels that? Isn't he human the same as the rest of you? +Why--why, if he were a woman, all the girls would have helped and +encouraged him and made him welcome in any gathering while he was here. +Don't you think it hurt when you broke up that poker party last night +when he came in? Or when he was deliberately excluded from that +hunting trip by that wretched Eddie Duke? Or any of the--the mean, +petty, little things you have done to him--all of you--since he's been +here? Oh, you men are horrid!" She gathers up her skirts and flashes +Scanlan a look, "I thought _you_, at least, were different!" she +whispers--and trips into the picture! + +For about three minutes the Kid stands lookin' after her without sayin' +a word. He acts like he has stopped one with his chin! + +"The big English stiff!" he busts out finally. "What does he mean by +comin' over here and gettin' me in a jam with my girl? I'll _get_ that +bird, though, believe me!" + +"What are you gonna do?" I says. + +"I'm gonna take that solemn-faced simp back of the African Desert and +give him a chance at the welterweight title!" he snorts. "I'll wallop +that bird till he'll wish he had stayed over in dear old England and--" + +"Stoppa!" comes a voice from the back of us, and we look around into +the muzzles of two automatics. On the other end of them was Tony! + +"I hear everyt'ing!" he snarls, wavin' the guns and glarin' at us. "I +hear everyt'ing!" + +The Kid looks at the guns and coughs, kinda nervous. I was glancin' at +friend Tony, myself. + +"Ain't that nice!" I remarks, feelin' my way carefully. + +"What you mean?" snarls the ex-"No spika da Engleesh." + +"Bein' able to hear everything," I explains, thinkin' to humour him. +"I'll bet right now you're listenin' to a little spicy scandal at some +King's palace, eh?" + +"Don't got funny!" he warns me. + +"Ha! ha!" snickers the Kid. "Where d'ye get that got funny stuff?" + +"What'sa that?" yells Tony, whirlin' on him and shovin' the guns under +his nose. + +The Kid gets pale and shuffles back a few steps. + +"No spika da Engleesh!" he pipes, holdin' up his hand. + +"Pah!" grunts Tony, registerin' disgust. "Me--I laugh at you! All the +tima you talk 'bout Meester Van Ness, I standa righta here with the ear +wide open. You no feexa nobody--maybe Tony he'sa feexa you! I hear +you say you no lika Meester Van Ness because he'sa no laugha. Sure, +he'sa laugha--but not all the tima on the streeta like crazee fel'. +When Meester Van Ness--ah, he'sa granda man--when he'sa wanna laugha, +he'sa go home, to he'sa rooma, shutta the door and standa in the +corner. Then he'sa a laugha ha! ha! ha! ho! ho! ho!--lika that! +That'sa lasta heem all day!" + +"Oh, Lady!" says the Kid, holdin' his side. "Can you tie that?" He +looks over and sees Van Ness in a clinch with Miss Vincent--and son, +you could see the muscles rollin' under his coat sleeves. "Look at the +big, ignorant boob now!" he howls. + +"Ignoranta!" hisses Tony. "Whata you mean, ignoranta? Seven +difference language thisa granda Meester Van Ness he'sa speak! He'sa +teacha everybody--joosta lika wan college!" + +"Why don't you get him to teach you Eyetalian then, Stupid?" sneers the +Kid. "You're a fine thing to luck your way past Ellis Island when you +can't even tell me what _Bomb Germo_ means!" + +"Don't got funny!" warns Tony. "What gooda now for you be fighting +champion for the world, eh? Leetle Tony he'sa standa here calla you +names and what can you do, eh? Nothing--joosta nothing! Champion, eh? +Ha, ha, ha! Don't maka me laugha, Meester Fightaire!" He shoves the +gun in the Kid's face and snarls, "Now!" he says. "Tella Tony you +feela sorry for soaka heem in jaw!" + +The Kid bites his lip and edges in a bit. Right away I got sorry for +Tony! + +"I'm sorry!" sneers Scanlan slowly. "Awful sorry--just thinkin' of it +has got me all broke up. I meant to let you have it on the beak, but +I'll make up for it now!" + +He looks over Tony's shoulder suddenly and yells. "Hey, don't throw +that!" + +If they had rehearsed the act, Tony couldn't have fallen for the plant +any harder. He twists his neck around to look back like the Kid +figured and Scanlan started one from his left ankle. It caught Tony +right on the button--which in English is the point of the chin--and +Tony gives a imitation of a seal. He took a dive! + +While we're takin' him away from his artillery, I look up and there's +Van Ness lookin' down at us and frownin'. He reaches inside that Roman +toga thing he's wearin' and comes out with a round piece of glass which +he balances on one eye. + +"Ah--I say!" he pipes, glarin' at the Kid. "This is getting jolly +annoying, my man. It appears that every time we meet, you have just +committed a murderous assault upon my dresser! Since you are +the--ah--champion fighter of the universe, why do you not joust with +more of its inhabitants and not center your activities upon one who +knows nothing of the art of self-defense?" + +The Kid grunts, takin' away Tony's guns and removin' a couple of them +long banana knives from his clothes. Meanwhile, the daredevil dresser +is showin' no more signs of life than a sleepin' alligator, so I +figured it was about time to pull a little first aid stuff. I turned +him over on his back and took off his coat, grabbin' it by the bottom +and holdin' it up. They was a sudden crash and--Sweet Cookie! A lot +of things fell on the ground, among 'em bein' one set of brass +knuckles, one blackjack, two more guns, a thing that looked like a +bayonet, five boxes of cartridges, a small bottle of nitro-glycerine +and three sticks of dynamite! The last two fell in the folds of the +coat, or we'd all have gone away from there. Tony's master looks at +the layout with his eyes stickin' so far out of his head you could have +knocked 'em off with a cane. + +Scanlan eyes him and laughs. + +"This is the bird which don't know nothin' about self-defense, eh?" he +grins, pointin' to Tony. "Well, if he'd been in Belgium a few years +ago, I bet the Germans would never have got through!" + +"Oh, I say!" gasps Van Ness. "This is a bit of a shock! Why the +fellow is a walking arsenal!" + +"He's more like a sleepin' fort, now!" I says, pointin' to Tony on the +turf. + +"Look at the chances you been takin' havin' a guy like that fasten your +garters and so forth," pipes Scanlan. "You ought to thank us for +exposin' him!" + +Then Tony comes to life and havin' helped him down, the Kid helps him +up. + +"_Sapristi_!" remarks Tony, glarin' at him. "You bigga stiffa! +Sometime Tony he'sa feexa you for dis! Whata you hitta me with?" + +"I think it was a left hook," the Kid tells him, rubbin' his chin, like +he ain't sure. + +"Aha!" snarls Tony. "I know you never hit with your feest sooch a +punch! Don't got funny with me any more! I wanna tella you, you keepa +up knock it down Tony every fiva, tena, fifteen minootes and some time +Tony he'sa got mad! When Tony he'sa got mad--" He stops and makes a +terrible face at me and the Kid, "--when Tony he'sa got mad, something +she'sa gotta fall!--dat'sa all!" + +"Well, you been doin' all the fallin' so far," I says, "and--" + +"Ah--I say!" butts in Van Ness--and Tony sees him for the first time, I +guess, because he shivered and got pale. "I say," he goes on, takin' a +slant at Tony through the trick eyeglass, "just what does this mean, +Antonio? Why are you walking about with this extraordinary collection +of weapons on your person?" He points his finger at the munitions on +the ground, and Tony's eyes follows his. At the same time he makes a +little clickin' noise in his throat and jumps for the pile. + +"Where is she the gooda carbolic acid?" he snarls. "And whosa taka my +eleven incha stiletto?" + +"How dare you ignore my question!" thunders Van Ness. "What are you +doing with all those weapons? Answer me!" + +"'Scuse a me!" says Tony, makin' a bow and takin' off his hat. "I +getta them for my brudda!" + +"Where's your brother?" asks the Kid. "In Russia?" + +"'Sno use _you_ talka to me!" growls Tony, "I no talka back. Sometime +Tony he'sa getta mad and then--" + +"Come, come!" interrupts Van Ness, kinda sharp. "The weapons--what of +them?" + +"'Scuse a me!" bows Tony with another smile. "My brudda he'sa live in +Santa Francisco. He'sa fina fel'--my brudda. He'sa name Joe. He'sa +come this countree five years ago, no fren's, no spika da Engleesh, no +nothing! They putta heem in the basement of the sheepa wit' coupla +thousand other fel' from seventy-six other countree. One fel' say my +Joe he'sa no be able to leava the sheepa at--at--what you call? I +don't know--I teenk maybe Chicago, Pennsylvania, Coney Island--I don't +know joosta now! Anyhow thisa fel' say Joe he'sa no be able to leava +the sheepa wherever he'sa wanna go--eef he'sa got no money, you 'stanna +me? Joe he'sa tank dis kinda fel', say coupla nica prayer for heem and +then everybody she'sa a maka sleepa. Joe he'sa get up and taka four +hundred dollar from thisa nica fel'--whosa sleepa lika he'sa dead--so +Joe he'sa be able to leeva the sheepa! He'sa a smarta fel', eh? +That'sa Joe. He'sa my brudda!" + +"Oh, Lady!" says the Kid. "What was you takin' him the ammunition for?" + +"Don't spika to me!" snorts Tony. "I no answera you! I tella Meester +Van Ness. He'sa my boss. He'sa fina fel', too--joosta lika my brudda!" + +"How dare you!" splutters Van Ness, his face as red as a ale-hound's +nose. "What do you mean by that?" + +"'Scuse a me!" says Tony. "Don't get mad for Tony. No spika da +Engleesh very gooda--maybe I maka meestake! Joe he'sa writa me come +over Santa Francisco queek, because he'sa gotta the trouble wif he'sa +landlord. Disa fel' he'sa a wanta da rent maybe, I don't know, but Joe +he'sa wanta me bring something so he'sa can feex disa fel' nex' time he +come around, you 'stanna me? He say he'sa a bigga fel'--tougha nut! +Yesterday I go out and getta wan gun for Joe. Then I teenk maybe that +ain't enough for poor leetle Joe against thisa bigga stiffa landlord, +so I stoppa drugga store, hardaware, meata store, five, six, sevena +place and get somet'ing for Joe he'sa feex landlord. Then I hear thisa +fel' say he'sa gonna feexa _you_!" Tony swings around and points at +the Kid. "Tony he'sa don't care if thisa bigga stiffa he's a champion +for the world. Tony he's a gotta knifa, gun, dynamite, carbolic acida, +everything for fighta. I talka to heem sweeta and he'sa knocka me down +wit' a hook! While I sleepa on the dirt, somebody she'sa taka my gooda +carbolic acida and stiletto I getta for Joe!" + +"Oh, Lady!" yells the Kid, slappin' me on the back. "This guy is a +riot!" + +"You may go to the hotel, Antonio," says Van Ness, "and await me there. +I am surprised and grieved at your beastly conduct!" + +Tony hands Van Ness a gun and the bottle of nitro-glycerine. + +"Alla right!" he says. "Tony he'sa go. But watcha this two fel' they +wanna feexa you. The little fel' you can shoota--but the bigga stiffa +whosa knocka me down, he'sa needa more than that! Taka thisa bottle +and throw it at heem harda. That'sa blow heem away so far, it taka +four thousand dollar for heem to come back on sheepa, thirda class!" + +Van Ness puts the gun and the nitro in Tony's pocket. + +"Begone, sir!" he says. "I'll jolly well attend to you later!" + +Tony gathers up his junk and throwin' a last glare at me and the Kid, +beats it. + +Van Ness turns to the Kid, stickin' the eyeglass back in the toga. + +"Ah--and now, Scanlan," he says, "will you be good enough to explain +the cause of the--ah--bitter animosity you have for me?" + +The Kid frowns and scratches his head. + +"Somebody has been kiddin' you," he tells him. "I ain't got _nothin'_ +for you! Where d'ye get that animosity thing?" + +Van Ness sighs so hard it like to blowed our hats off. + +"It is beastly plain to me," he says, "that I am about as popular in +Film City as a cloudburst at a picnic! I am snubbed, ridiculed, +vulgarly and subtly insulted! Also I am white and human and--ah--I +must confess it has penetrated my skin. _You_ are particularly bitter +against me--why?" + +The Kid studies him for a minute. + +"Listen!" he answers finally. "Are you on the level with this? D'ye +really wanna know, or are you simply askin' me so's you can pull one of +them witty remarks on the way I answer you--_and get walloped on the +beak_?" + +Van Ness did somethin' then I never seen him do before and only once +afterward. _He grinned_! The Roman toga fell off his shoulders, and +he leans over with his hands on his hips. On the level, his whole face +seemed to change! And then-- + +Oh, boy! + +"Listen, guy!" pipes this big, dignified whatnot. "I'm on the level, +all right and I want the lowdown on this thing, d'ye make me?" (Me and +the Kid nearly went dead on our feet listenin'.) "As for wallopin' me +on the beak, well--you may be welterweight champion out here, but if +you start anything with _me_, I'll remove you from the title, d'ye get +that?" + +Woof! + +The Kid and me falls back against a rock, fightin' for air! + +"Oh, Lady!" whispers the Kid, fannin' himself with his hat. "Did you +hear what I did?" + +"Call me at seven!" I gasps. + +"Well--?" drawls Van Ness, lookin' us over. + +"They's just one thing I'd like to know," murmurs the Kid, wipin' his +forehead with my handkerchief in the excitement. "What part of dear +old England was _you_ born in?" + +Van Ness grins some more. + +"Brooklyn!" he says, jerkin' out the eye glass again and stickin' it on +his eye. "Surely, my man," he goes on, with that old silly stare of +his; "surely you have heard of jolly old Brooklyn--what?" + +"I know it well!" says the Kid. "It's on the wrong end of the bridge! +But where d'ye get the 'my man' thing? And what have you been goin' +around like a Swiss duke or somethin', when it turns out you're only a +roughneck from Brooklyn? You wanna know why you don't belong, and +don't fit in here, eh? Well, you big hick, where d'ye get that Sedate +Sam stuff?" He slaps Van Ness on the arm. "Why in the Hail Columbia +don't you bust out and giggle now and then, hey?" + +"Why don't I?" snarls Van Ness, "Don't you think I'd _like_ to? Don't +you think I would if I could, you boob?" + +"Would if you _could_?" repeats the Kid. "What's the matter--have you +got lockjaw?" + +"No!" roars Van Ness, so sudden that we both sidestepped. "No! Not +lockjaw, worse! _Dignity_!" + +"Have you give the mud baths at Hot Springs a play?" I asks. + +"Stop it!" he sneers. "Cease that small time comedy! I'm the most +dignified person in the world--the undisputed champion! I'm Frowning +Frank and Imposing Ike rolled into one. It hurts me more than it does +you, but I can't help it! I fail to remember the last time I enjoyed a +hearty laugh and I know it will be a darned long space before I'll +snicker again. My laugher has gone unused for so long that it's +atrophied and won't work. I've tried warming it up by going home at +night and guffawing before the mirror, but the result is only a +mirthless giggle--a ghostly chortle! Of course, I wouldn't dare +attempt to laugh in public!" + +"Do what?" asks the Kid. + +"Laugh!" answers Van Ness bitterly. "I can't even let myself think of +doing it--why, it would ruin me! My dignity is all I have. It's my +stock in trade and without it I would lose my income! Were I to unbend +and shatter the air with harmless cachinnation, it would be thought at +once that I had been drinking!" He stopped and sighed some more. "It +began ten years ago," he goes on. "I was playing small parts in a +stock company and one week I was cast for a Roman senator. Being +anxious to make good, I made that noble so dignified that the local +critics dismissed the play with a few paragraphs and gave half a column +to my stately bearing! That started it, and from that time I've played +nothing but Romans, kings, governors, cardinals and similar roles, +calling for my infernal talent in the one direction. Mechanically I +grew to playing them _on and off_, yet all the time within me burns the +desire to do rough and tumble, yes, by Heaven, slapstick comedy! But +alas, I lack the moral courage to throw off the yoke!" + +"Well, Mister Van Ness--" I begins, when the silence begun to hurt, +"I--" + +"Not Van Ness!" he interrupts. "The name is as false as my manner! My +name is Fink, Eddie Fink, and please don't add the Mister. When a lad +I had a nickname, but, alas, I--" + +"What was it?" butts in the Kid. + +He hesitates. + +"Well, it was rather frivolous," he says. "As indeed I was myself--a +happy, carefree youth! The boys called me Foolish--Foolish Fink!" He +throws out his chest like he just realized how he had been honored at +the time. + +Me and the Kid both had a coughin' fit. + +"Let's go over to Montana Bill's," I says, when I thought it was safe +to look up, "and we'll talk it over." + +"Yeh!" chimes in the Kid. "Over a tray of private stock!" He laughs +and slaps alias Van Ness on the shoulder. "Cheer up! Foolish Fink, +will you have a little drink? Woof, woof! I'm a poet!" + +"Thanks!" says Van Ness. "But I'm on the wagon. I stopped drinking +five years ago, because under the influence of alcohol I've been known +to act the fool!" + +"You ain't the only one!" says the Kid. "Anyhow I never touch it +myself and Johnny here only uses it on his hair! But come on over--you +can have your pants pressed or take a shine, I'm gonna buy, and you +might as well get in on it. Bill's got a laughin' hyena in a cage +outside, and maybe you could get him to rehearse you!" + +About a week after that, the society bunch in Frisco comes over to Film +City to act in a picture for the benefit of the electric fan fund for +Greenland, or somethin' like that. About fifty of the future +corespondents, known to the trade as the younger set, blows over in +charge of a dame who had passed her thirty-sixth birth and bust day +when Napoleon was a big leaguer. She had did well by herself though +and when dressed for the street, they was harder things to look at than +her. Also, when her last husband died, he left her a bankroll that +when marked in figures on paper looked like it was the number of +Southerners below Washington. A little bit of a guy, which turned +around when you yelled "G. Herbert Gale" at him, breezed over with her +and at first I had him figured as a detective seekin' divorce evidence, +because he stuck to that dame like a cheap vaudeville act does to the +American flag. He trailed a few paces behind her everywhere she went, +callin' her "Mrs. Roberts-Miller" in public and "Helen Dear" when he +figured nobody was listenin'. It was easy to see that he had crashed +madly in love with this charmer, but as far as she was concerned they +was nothin' stirrin'. + +Except that G. Herbert was inclined to be a simp, he wasn't a bad guy +at that. He mixed well and bought freely, although he was riveted to +the water wagon himself. He bragged to me in fact that the nearest he +ever come to alcohol in his life was once when he used it to clean his +diamonds. + +But G. Herbert was the guy that invented the ancient and honorable +order of village cut-ups. I never asked him what the G stood for in +his name, I guessed it the first day he was in our midst. It meant +"Giggle!" This here Herbert person was a laughin' fool! The first +time I talked with him I thought I was cheatin' myself by only bein' +Scanlan's manager. I figured I ought to be in vaudeville knockin' 'em +dead for five hundred a week, because G. Herbert roared at everything I +said. He screamed with mirth at all the old ones and had hysterics +over three or four witty remarks I remembered from a show I seen the +night of the Johnstown flood. I thought, of course, it was the way I +put the stuff over, and I was just gonna give the Kid my fare-you-well, +when I seen G. Herbert standin' by a practical undertakers shop that +was fixed up for a fillum. The little simp was standin' over a coffin +laughin' his head off! + +That cured me, but him and the Kid become great little pals. I found +out later it was on account of G. Herbert snickerin' at the Kid's +comedy. Scanlan hadn't discovered it was a habit with this guy, and he +claimed here was a feller that knowed humor when he seen it. + +One afternoon I see Scanlan and Miss Vincent whisperin' together like +yeggmen outside a postoffice. They called me over, and the Kid tells +me that the society bunch was gonna leave us flat on the midnight +train, and before they blowed, Potts was gonna give 'em a dinner and +dance. All the movie crowd was to mix with Frisco's four hundred, so's +that both could enjoy the experience and say they took a chance once in +their lives. + +But the thing that was botherin' Miss Vincent--(Some dame, that! She +was the world's champion woman, believe me!) The thing that worried +her was G. Herbert and Helen Dear, alias Mrs. Roberts-Miller. Likin' +'em both, Miss Vincent wanted to hurl 'em together for good and all +before the train pulled out. + +It seems the only objection the dame had to G. Herbert was the fact +that he couldn't keep from laughin'. She had him figured as a +eighteen-carat simp and frequently told him so, addin' that she could +never marry a man who was shy on dignity. Then she gets a flash at our +old pal Jason Van Ness or Eddie Fink, as he claimed, and she fell so +hard for him she liked to broke her neck! Here was the only original +Sedate Sam! Here was the guy she was willin' and anxious to lead to +the altar and then to the old safe deposit vault! He was so handsome! +So dignified! Such a splendid actor! That's the stuff she was always +handin' poor little G. Herbert and askin' him why _he_ wasn't like +that? G. Herbert would shake his head, giggle, and say he didn't know +why, but he'd ask his parents. + +Van Ness couldn't see Helen Dear with opera glasses. He told me he +hated 'em stout, and, if possible, had figured on weddin' somebody +within ten years of his age--either way. I then felt it my duty to +inform him that her bankroll was stouter than she was. He goes into +high speed on the dignity thing and sets sail for Helen Dear like a +bloodhound after a nigger. He didn't want to look like a vulgar +fortune hunter, he claimed, but he figured if he could get his fingers +on a piece of Helen's dough, he could bribe G. Herbert to teach him the +art of laughin'. + +The Kid tells Miss Vincent to forget about the thing, and he would +guarantee that G. Herbert and Helen Dear went away threatenin' to marry +each other. She said she'd leave the matter in our hands and held hers +out. I shook it and Scanlan kissed it--a trick he stole from Van Ness. + +The dinner and dance that night was a knockout! Film City is lit up +like a plumber used to be on Saturday night, and the inhabitants is +dressed like the people that poses for the ads of any cigarette over +fifteen cents a pack. As usual, Miss Vincent had the rest of the dames +lookin' like sellin' platers in stake race and, believe me, some of +them society girls would have worried Venus. The Kid was so swelled up +because she kept within easy call all night that he forgot his promise +to fix up G. Herbert with Helen Dear. The latter, as we remark at the +laundry, was closer to Van Ness all night than the ocean is to the +beach, and it looked like the Kid was gonna have a tough time breakin' +'em up. + +Along around eleven, Miss Vincent calls Scanlan aside and reminds him +that he had better start workin' for G. Herbert, because they would all +be beatin' it for the train in a hour. She also give out that, if he +didn't make good, she was off him for life. Scanlan bows--another +trick he copped from Van Ness--and takes me away down at the end of the +lawn to dope somethin' out. + +I tripped over what I thought at first was a dead body and me and the +Kid props it up in the light. + +"Ha, ha!" it says. "Tony he'sa laugha at you! Tony he'sa laugha at +everybody! _Bomb Germo_! thisa fel' tella me--ha, ha, ha!" + +The Kid grunts in disgust, lets go and Tony bounces back on the lawn. + +"Stewed to the scalp!" says Scanlan. "Frisk him!" + +I run my hands over Tony and bring forth a bottle of gin and another +one of bourbon. The Kid looks 'em over, finally stickin' 'em both in +his coat pocket. + +"Come on!" he tells me. "They's no use hangin' around here. If I +don't get back there, some of them Wealthy Willies that have been +wishin' all night will be one-steppin' with Miss Vincent!" + +"But how about G. Herbert?" I says. + +"He's got my best wishes!" growls the Kid. "He's a nice little feller, +but that's the best I can do. What d'ye think I am--Cupid?" + +"Well, gimme the alcohol then!" I says. "You ain't gonna fall off the +wagon are you, when--" + +"Shut up, Stupid!" he butts in. "I wouldn't take a drink of this stuff +for what Rockefeller gets for overtime! I want to get it away from +that wop, so's he'll have somethin' to moan about when he wakes up." + +We went back to the party, and a couple of dames standin' at the punch +bowl calls to the Kid. He always was a riot with the women! Helen +Dear is there with Van Ness, and he's got to where he's pattin' her +hand, while G. Herbert stands in back of 'em lookin' like he wished he +had some nails to bite. + +I come to a table and there's Miss Vincent sittin' alone and she +motions me to sit down with her--so's my back would hide her from the +rest of the bunch. She says a little bit of society went a long ways +with her, and where was the Kid? Before I can answer her along comes +Helen Dear and she plumps down at the table and starts to tell us what +a magnificent man Mister Van Ness was. She claims she never seen such +a perfect gentleman in her life. I liked to snickered out loud at the +disappointed way she pulled that one and then the Kid, G. Herbert and +Van Ness suddenly comes around a tree and joins the party. + +Scanlan winks at Miss Vincent, and she looks at him inquiringly, but he +just shakes his head. I noticed that G. Herbert looked kinda sad, and +he must have put his giggler away because he just sat lookin' down at +the ground. Van Ness is full of life--I never seen him so cheerful--so +I figured that while them and the Kid was alone, Van Ness must have +told 'em that Helen Dear had proposed or accepted him. + +Finally, Helen Dear looks at her wrist watch and says she'll have to +tear herself away, because the train leaves in fifteen minutes. She +wastes five of that throwin' soulful looks at Van Ness and he give back +as good as he got. G. Herbert offers to get her wraps, comin' to life +long enough to make the request, but Helen Dear gives him a sneerin' +look and says there was servants there for that purpose. It was a +terrible throwdown, and Van Ness nearly grinned, but G. Herbert gamely +tried a giggle that sounded like the squeak of a stepped-on rat. + +While Helen Dear is gettin' into a coat that couldn't have cost a +nickel under five thousand bucks, the Kid gets up and calls Van Ness +and G. Herbert aside. They was gone about five minutes. When they +came back, Helen Dear is just puttin' on her hat and suddenly the thing +slips out of her hands and slides down over one eye. + +Then--excuse me a minute, I'm in convulsions! I'll never forget it if +I live to see Bryan vote against prohibition! There's Helen Dear +gettin' red in the face and strugglin' with that hat and-- + +"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" shrieks Van Ness--_the guy that had lost his +laugher_!--"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" he yells, holdin' the chair so's he can +stand up and pointin' at Helen's hat. "You ought to go in vaudeville!" +he hollers. "You'd be a riot with that act! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" + +Miss Vincent gasps, the Kid grins, and I all but fainted. Here's this +guy laughin' his head off for the first time in ten years and--look at +the time he picked to do it! Sweet Cookie! + +Helen Dear turns eighteen shades of red and fights for her breath like +a fish when you drag it over the side of the boat. Then up steps +little G. Herbert. His eyes is kinda glassy, but his face is set and +hard. His spine is as straight as a flag pole and he sticks a piece of +glass over one eye, just like Van Ness used to do! Dignity? Why he +could have took Van Ness when that guy was right--_and give him +lessons_! + +"What does this mean, sir!" he says, walkin' up to Van Ness who is +holdin' his sides and fallin' off the chair. Laugh? That bird was in +hysterics! + +"Ha, ha, ha!" bellers Van Ness. "Get a couple of good camera men +quick! Ha, ha, ha, ha! It looks like she got hit with a pie!" + +"You infernal idiot!" roars G. Herbert. "How dare you laugh at this +lady?" + +"Oh, boy!" answers Van Ness, finally rollin' off his chair. "Ha, ha, +ha, ha!" + +"Come, Herbert!" pipes Helen. "We will go back together and my answer +is Yes! Thank Heaven that man stands exposed in his true character!" + +"Thas' right!" nods Herbert, waggin' his head and glarin' at all of us. +"C'mon--hic--Cmon, M' dear!" + +Somethin' comes staggerin' up and grabs the Kid by the arm. It was +Tony. + +"Aha!" he yells. "Who'sa taka my bottle gin, bottle bourbon? +_Sapristi_! You bigga stiffa, I--" + +The Kid gives him a slow straight arm, and Tony goes over the table +backwards, landin' right beside his master. + +"No spika da Engleesh!" says Scanlan, as Tony disappears. + +I grabbed him by the arm. + +"Show me them bottles," I says, gettin' wise in a flash. + +The Kid takes out two _empty_ non-refillables and tosses 'em in the +grass. + +"My!" he says, dreamily. "How that little guy went to it!" + +Toot! Toot! Toot! goes the Santa Fe flier pullin' out with G. Herbert +and Helen Dear. + +"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha--ho, ho, ho, ho!" screams Van Ness from +under the table. "She promised--ha, ha, ha! to cheer me up--hic--ha, +ha, ha! and she--hic--certainly--ha, ha, ha!--made good!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE UNHAPPY MEDIUM + +They may be such a thing as a ghost, but I don't believe it! At the +same time, I'm willin' to admit that my feelin's in the matter ain't +gonna prove the ruin of the haunted house promoters. They's a whole +lot of things which I look on as plain and simple bunk, that the +average guy studies at college. But the reason I say they _may_ be, is +because when me and Kid Scanlan come back East this year we stopped off +somewheres in the hurrah for prohibition part of the country and was +showed over what the advertisin' matter admitted to be the greatest +bakery in the world. + +I think them ad writers was modest fellers. That joint was not only +the world's greatest bakery, it was the world's greatest _anything_! + +I never really knowed a thing about bread, except that you put butter +on it, until I give that place the up and down. + +What I don't know about the staff of life now would never get you +through Yale. I might go farther than that and come right out with the +fact that I have become a abandoned bread fiend and got to have it or I +foam at the mouth, since I seen how it was made at this dough foundry. + +A accommodatin' little guy took hold of me and the Kid and showed us +all over the different machine shops where this here bread was mixed, +baked and what-notted for the trade. Our charmin' guide must have come +from a family of auctioneers and circus barkers and he never heard of +no sums under ten or eleven thousand in his life. He knowed more about +figures than Joe Grady, who once filled in a summer with a Russian +ballet, and he had been wound up and set to deliver chatter at the rate +of three words a second, provided the track was fast and he got off in +front. He talked with his whole body, waggin' his head, movin' his +arms and shufflin' his feet. When he got warmed up and goin' good, he +pushed forward at you with his hands like he was tryin' to insert his +chatter right into you. + +He leads us to a spot about half a mile from where we come in, holds up +his hands to Heaven, coughs, blows his nose and gives a little shiver. + +"Over there!" he bellers, without no warnin'. "Over there is our +marvelous, mastadon, mixin' shop. We use 284,651 pounds of +scrupulously sifted and freshly flavored flour, one million cakes of +elegant yeast and 156,390 pounds of bakin' powder each and every year! +We employ 865 magnificent men there and they get munificent money. We +don't permit the use of drugs, alcoholics, tobacco or unions! The men +works eight easy hours a delightful day, six days a week and they are +happy, hardy and healthy! Promotion is regular, rapid and regardless! +Our employees is all loyal, likable and Lithuanians! They own their +own cottages, clothes and chickens, bein' thrifty, temperate and--" + +"Tasty!" I yells. I couldn't, keep it in no longer! + +"What?" snaps the little guy, kinda sore. + +"Lay off, Stupid!" says the Kid to me, with a openly admirin' glance at +the runt. "Go on with your story," he nods to him. "Never mind +Senseless, here, I'm gettin' every word of it!" + +The little hick glares at me and points to a shack on the left. + +"Over there," he pipes. "Over there is our shippin' plant where the +freshly finished and amazingly appetizin' loaves are carefully counted +and accurately assembled! For this painstakin' performance we employ +523 more men. None but the skilled, superior +and--and--eh--Scandinavian are allowed in that diligent department, and +each and every day a grand, glorious total of ten thousand lovely +loaves is let loose with nothin' missin' but the consumer's contented +cackle as he eagerly eats! We even garnish each loaf with a generous +gob of Gazoopis--our own ingenuous invention--before they finally +flitter forth! Would you like to see the shop?" + +"I certainly wish _I_ could sling chatter like that!" answers the Kid +with a sigh. "But I guess it's all in the way a guy was brung up. +Gobs of generous Gazoopis!" he mutters, turnin' the words over in his +mouth like they was sweet morsels. "Gobs of generous Gazoopis! Oh, +boy!" + +The little guy throws out his chest and bows with a "I-thank-you" look +all over his face. He got me sore just watchin' him. Y'know that runt +hated himself! + +"Say!" I says to him. "If all that stuff you claim for this roll +foundry is on the level, it must take a lot of dough to run it, eh?" + +"Are you tryin' to kid me?" he sneers. + +"No!" I comes back. "But speakin' of bakeries, I'd sacrifice my sacred +silk socks for a flash at them skilled Scandinavians assemblin' that +bread, before I move on to nasty New York!" + +The Kid slaps me on the back and grins. + +"Go on, Foolish!" he says. "You got this bird on the ropes!" He turns +to the runt. "All I want," he goes on, "is one peep at them likable +Lithuanians--can I git that?" + +"You guys is as funny as pneumonia to me!" snorts the little guy, +gettin' red in the face. "That stuff may pass for comedy in Yonkers or +wherever you hicks blowed in from, but it don't git no laugh outa me! +D'ye wanna see this shop or don't you--yes or no?" + +"Let's go!" I tells him. "You got me all worked up about it!" + +"Same here!" says the Kid. "I only wish I could talk like you can, but +I guess it's a gift, ain't it?" + +The little guy grunts somethin' and nods for us to fall in behind him, +and we lock step along till we come to another joint from which was +issuin' what I'll lay eight to five was all the noise in the world. +How they ever gathered it up and got it in the buildin' I don't know, +but I do know it was there! If you'd take a bowlin' alley on +Turnverein night, a boiler factory workin' on a rush order and the +battle of Gettysburg, wind 'em up and set 'em all off at once, you +might get a faint idea of how the inmates of that buildin' was ruinin' +the peace and quiet of the surroundin' country. A dynamite explosion +in the next block would have attracted as much attention as a whisper +in a steamfittin' shop. + +"I thought the war was all over!" hollers the Kid, holdin' his ears. +"Has the police been tipped off about this?" + +"What d'ye mean the police?" screams back the runt. "That there is the +mixin' and bakin' shop." + +"Yeh?" I cuts in. "Well, I don't know what them skilled Scandinavians +of yours is at, but, believe me, they're _tryin'_ all right!" + +The runt sneers at us. + +"You must be a fine pair of hicks!" he says. "D'ye mean to say you +never heard of the Eureka Mixin' and Bakin' machine?" + +"I can hear it now, all right!" I tells him, noddin' to the buildin' +where the boilermakers was havin' a field day, "but--" + +"Sufferin' salmon, what boobs!" he interrupts me. Then he gives us +both the once over and starts his sneerer workin' again. "Say!" he +asks me. "Who d'ye like to win the battle of Santiago and d'ye think +Lincoln will git elected again?" + +"I don't know," I comes back. "I'm gonna vote for Jefferson myself!" +I looks him right in the eye. "I think Washington is a sucker to hang +around Valley Forge all winter, don't you?" I asks him. + +"Couple of small time cut-ups, eh?" he says, shakin' his head. "Where +d'ye come from?" + +"New York," the Kid tells him, "and listen--will you do me a favor and +let's hear some more about them likable Lithuanians and gobs of +generous Gazoopis?" + +"I figured you come from some hick burg like New York," says the runt, +ignorin' the Kid's request. "I can spot a guy from New York ten miles +away! He knocks Brooklyn, thinks walkin' up Broadway is seein' life, +was born in Memphis and is the only thing that keeps the mail order +houses in Oshkosh from goin' to the wall! New Yorkers, eh?" he winds +up with another insultin' sneer. "I got you!" + +"Gobs of generous Gazoopis!" mutters the Kid like he's in a trance. +"Sweet Papa!" + +The runt looks at him. + +"How does _that_ bird fool the almshouse?" he asks me. + +I bent down so's I could whisper in the side of his little dome. Them +skilled Scandinavians in the buildin' had gone crazy or else some of +the night shift had come in with more boilers and things to hit 'em +with. + +"That's Kid Scanlan, welterweight champion of the world!" I hisses in +his ear. + +"Ha, ha!" laughs the runt. "That's who he'd _like_ to be, you mean!" + +"Our employees is all hale, hearty and hilarious!" grins the Kid at +him. "We pay 'em off in money, music and mush! Wow!" + +"If that big stiff is tryin' to kid me," begins the runt, gettin' red +again, "he--" + +"All right, all right!" I butts in quickly. "Don't let's have no +violence. Show us what makes that shop go, and we'll grab the next +rattler for New York. Y'know the Kid fights Battlin' Edwards on the +twenty-first and--" + +"Are you on the _level_ with that stuff?" interrupts the runt, still +lookin' at the Kid. "Is that really Kid Scanlan?" + +I calls the Kid over. + +"Kid," I says, "meet Mister--er--" + +"Sapp," says the runt. "Joe Sapp!" He sticks out his hand. "I +remember you now," he tells the Kid. "I seen you fight some tramp in +Fort Wayne last year. I think you hit this guy with everything but the +referee and that's why I like your work. When _I_ send in three bucks +for a place to sit down at a box fight, I expect to see assault and +batter and not the Virginia Reel! Why--" + +"Not to give you a short answer," I butts in, "but how about the insane +asylum over there?" I points to the buildin'. "Do we see that or +don't we?" + +Right away he straightens up and sticks his finger at it. + +"It takes exactly twelve, temptin' minutes to completely compose and +accurately assemble a loaf!" he shouts. "We never heard of waste, and +efficiency was born in this factory. The only thing that loafs here is +the bread! Each eager employee has his own particular part to perform +and that accounts for the amazin' and awesome accuracy with which we +bake the beautiful bread. Step this way!" + +"Believe me!" says the Kid, "I wish I had a line of patter like that! +'Amazin' and awesome accuracy'!" he repeats. "Do you get that?" + +Right then about a dozen dames and their consorts come breezin' in the +main entrance. Offhand, they look like the hicks that gives the +"Seein' New York" busses a play, and when the runt spots them he ducks +and grabs my arm. + +"C'mon!" he says. "Shake it up! If them boobs see me, I'll have to +show 'em all over the plant! That's a gang of them Snooks' Tourists, +seein' the world for fourteen eighty-five a-piece, breakfast at hotel +on third mornin' out and bus from train included! Most of them is +wisenheimers from Succotash Crossin', Mo.; and they're out to see that +they don't get cheated. They're gonna see everything like it says on +the ticket, and some of 'em is ready to sue Snooks because they got +somethin' in their eye from lookin' out the train window and missed +eight telegraph poles and a water tank on account of it. The rest of +them sits around knockin' everything on general principles and claimin' +the thing is a fake. Then there'll be one old guy in the party with a +trick horn he holds to his ear, and, when I get all through tellin' 'em +about the mixin' shop, the deef guy will say, 'Hey? What was that +about the airship again?' There will also be three veteran +school-teachers which will want samples of the bread and hide out a +couple of rolls on the side. And then one young married couple which +started sayin' 'Wonderful!' when the train pulled out of the old home +town and which has said nothin' else but that since! No, sir! I'm off +them tourists--c'mon, sneak around here!" + +He boldly walks into the buildin' where all the noise is comin' from, +and not wantin' to act yellah before strangers we followed him in. +They was a lot of things in there and if you ever make the town, Joe +Sapp will show 'em to you. He has to, in order to eat. But the only +thing I remember was the way them lovely, luxurious loaves was +artistically assembled, and I'll remember that little item till the +insurance company pays off! + +They was a great, big machine in the middle of the floor and that was +the thing that was makin' the bread and noise. A half dozen of them +skilled Scandinavians stood away up on a gallery at one end and their +job was of a pourin' nature. They was all dressed in white and wore +little trick hats on which it said this, "No Human Hands Touch It." I +didn't know whether it meant the skilled Scandinavians or the beautiful +bread. + +"The most marvelous, magnificent, mammoth invention of the age!" bawls +the runt so's we could hear him over the noise. "Here is where the +beautiful bread is blissfully baked by the wonderful workmen! This +machine cost the sensational sum of half a million dollars, and its +capacity is a trifle over five hundred finely finished luscious loaves +each and every--" + +That's all I heard because I went in a trance from watchin' the thing. +I never seen nothin' like it before and I know darn well I never will +again. Listen! Them skilled Scandinavians poured in raw wheat at one +end of this here machine, and it come out the other end, steamin' hot +bread! Some machine, eh? Not only that, but when it come out, it was +baked, labelled, wrapped in oil paper and smellin' most heavenly from +that generous gob of Gazoopis, as the runt said. + +I dragged the Kid outside and we started for the railroad station +without comment. As we passed out the door, we heard the runt +screamin', probably thinkin' we was still there. + +"One section reduces the wheat to flour, another mixes the dough, it +passes on to the steam ovens and then what happens? _Bread_! Over +here--" + +The Kid stops all of a sudden, takes a hitch in his belt and looks back +at the shop. + +"Hell!" he says. "They _can't_ make no bread like that!" + +"You seen 'em do it, didn't you?" I asks him, although I was thinkin' +the same thing myself. + +"Even at that," he comes back, "I don't believe it!" + +We walks on a little ways, and the Kid stops again. + +"I certainly wish I could talk like that little runt!" he shoots out. +"Take it from me, that bird is there forty ways. He's got Webster +lookin' like a dummy!" + +He keeps on mutterin' to himself as we breeze up to the station, and, +when I lean over to get an earful I hear him sayin', "They're all +simple, sassy and suckers! We feed 'em oranges, oatmeal and olives!" + +So, as I said before, they _may_ be such a thing as ghosts. After +watchin' that bread bakin' machine at play I'll go further than that. +There may be _anything_! + +One day at the trainin' camp, a couple of weeks after we hit New York, +a handler comes to me and says they's two guys outside that wants to +see the Kid. I hopped out to take a flash at 'em, but the Kid has been +reached, and when I come on the scene he's shakin' hands with 'em. One +of these guys was dressed the way the public thinks bookmakers and con +men doll up and he wore one of them sweet, trustin' innocent faces like +you see on the villain in a dime novel. He looked to me like he'd +steal a sunflower seed from a blind parrot. + +But it was the other guy that was the riot to me. + +He was tall and lanky, dressed all in black like the pallbearer the +undertaker furnishes, and the saddest-lookin' boob I ever seen in my +life! If he wasn't the original old Kid Kill-Joy, he was the bird that +rehearsed him, believe me! Y'know just from lookin' at this guy, a man +would get to thinkin' about his past life, the time he throwed the baby +down the well when but a playful child, how old his parents was gettin' +and the time Shorty Ellison run off with the red-headed dame that lived +over the butcher's. You wished you had saved your money or somebody +else's, suddenly findin' out that it was a tough world where a poor man +didn't have a Chinaman's chance, and you wondered if death by drownin' +was painful or not. + +That's the way it made you feel when you just looked at this guy. Ever +see one of 'em? + +He had a trick of sighin'. Not just ordinary heaves, but deep, dark +and gloomy sighs that took all the life out of whoever he sighed at. +If they had that bird over in Europe, they never would have been no +war, because when he started sighin', nobody would have had enough +ambition left to fight. Every time he opened his mouth I thought he +was gonna say, "Merciful Heaven help us all!" or somethin' like that. +But he didn't. He just sighed. + +The Kid tells me the riot of color was Honest Dan Leduc, and that he +was the best behaved guy that ever spent a week end in Sing Sing, where +he had gone every now and then to study jail conditions at the request +of thirteen men, the same bein' a judge and a jury. The sad-lookin' +boob was Professor Pietro Parducci, the well known medium. + +"Medium what?" I says, when the Kid pulls that one. + +The Kid frowns at me and turns to his new found friends. + +"Don't mind Foolish here," he tells 'em, "he's got the idea that +everything is crooked. He thinks the war was a frame-up for the +movies, and the Kaiser got double-crossed, but he ain't a bad guy at +that. He knows more about makin' money than a lathe hand at the mint." +He jerks his thumb at Honest Dan and swings around on me. "This guy +and me was brung up together," he explains, "and before I went into the +fight game we was as close as ninety-nine and a hundred. He's been all +over the world since then, he says so himself, but just now he's up +against it. It seems he was runnin' a pool room on Twenty-Eighth +Street and he give the wrong winner of the Kentucky Derby to the +precinct captain. The next mornin' the captain give every cop in the +station house a axe and Dan's address. His friend here is a now, +whosthis and--" + +Honest Dan pulls what I bet he thought was a pleasant smile. It +reminded me more of a laughin' hyena. + +"One minute!" he butts in. "My friend, the world-renowed Professor +Parducci, is a medium, a mystic and a swami. He's the seventh son of a +seventh son, born with a veil and spent two years in Indiana with the +yogi. He can peer into the future or gaze back at the past. He is in +direct communication with the spirits of the dear departed and as a +crystal gazer and palmist he stands alone!" + +"That's a great line of patter, Dan," says the Kid, "but we met a guy +on the trip back that had the English language layin' down and rollin' +over when he snapped his fingers. Generous gobs of Gazoopis and +likable, loyal Lithuanians! Can you tie that?" + +I was still lookin' over the gloomy guy with the name that sounded like +a brand of olive oil, and I decided he was the bunk. I asked him could +he tell my fortune, and he draws himself up and claims he's not in +harmony just now. That was the tip-off to me, and I figures he has +come out to take the Kid for his bankroll. I knowed he couldn't tell +no fortunes the minute I seen him. He didn't look to me as if he could +tell his own name, and I bet all the spirits he ever communicated with +was called private stock. The end of his nose was as red as a four +alarm fire and the back of his collar was all wore off from where he +had kept throwin' back his head so's the saloon keepers could meet +expenses. Honest Dan said he couldn't speak much English, so I guess +he had stopped at "I'll have the same" and "Here's a go!" + +Well, I had the right dope, because the next week the Kid goes down to +the bank and draws out five thousand bucks to set Honest Dan and the +professor up in business with. They was gonna open a swell +fortune-tellin' joint on Fifth Avenue. I said the thing sounded +crooked to me, and the Kid got sore and told me Honest Dan couldn't do +nothin' like that, it wasn't in him. He showed me where Dan had always +got time off for good conduct, no matter what jail he was in. + +The professor brightens up for a minute when the Kid hands over the +roll, but after that he went right back into the gloom again. + +Honest Dan gives the Kid a receipt for the sucker money and him and his +trick medium goes on their way. After a while, I forgot about 'em. +The Kid fights Edwards and a couple of more tramps and knocks 'em all +kickin' and we're just gonna grab one of them "See America Firsts" for +the coast when some club promoter goes crazy and offers us ten thousand +iron men to fight Joe Ryan. The Kid would have fought the Marines for +half of that, so we run all the way to the club and signed articles +whiles the guy that hung up the purse was still wishin' he had stayed +on the wagon. + +The Kid had got Professor Parducci to fix him up with a few love charms +and owls' ears by which he was gonna make himself solid with Miss +Vincent. In fact Scanlan fell so hard for the medium stuff that when +the professor told him to get at all cost a lock of Miss Vincent's hair +clipped at eighteen minutes after eleven on a rainy Sunday night, he +writes out to her and asks her to send him a lock cut just that way! + +When he wasn't pesterin' the professor on how to win the movie queen, +he was goin' around mutterin', "Loyal, likeable Lithuanians and +generous gobs of Gazoopis!" until the newspaper guys wrote that Kid +Scanlan would be a mark for the first good boy he fought, because like +everybody else that was a sudden success, he had took to usin' +stimulants which is only sold on a doctor's prescription. On the +level, he'd git a wad of paper and sit around all night with a +dictionary, writin' down all the words that begin with the same letter +and then he'd git up and repeat that stuff for a hour. + +One afternoon we went downtown to look over this joint run by Honest +Dan and the professor. It was in one of them studio buildings on Fifth +Avenue near Twenty-Eighth Street, and the rent they was payin' for it +would have kept the army in rubber heels for six years. They's a long +line of autos outside and the inmates was streamin' in and out of the +place like a crowd goin' to see the beloved rector laid out. Some of +the dames would be familiar to you, if you've been readin' the box +scores in the latest divorce mêlées, or the lineup of the committee for +the aid of the Esquimaux victims of the war. + +We get in a elevator, and, floatin' up to the roof, walk down what +would have been a fire trap on the East Side, and here we are at +Professor Parducci's Temple of the Inner Star. A couple of West Indian +hall boys, who's gag line was "Say-hib," lets us in. They was dressed +in sheets and had towels twisted around their heads and smelled +strongly of gin. Pretty soon Honest Dan comes out and shakes hands all +around. Except for his face, you'd never know it was the same guy. +His hair is brushed all the way back like the guys that poses for the +underwear ads and he's dressed in a black suit that fit him better than +most of his skin. In his shirt front they's a diamond that looked like +a young arc light, and he had enough gems on his hands to make J. P. +Morgan gnash his teeth. + +He told me that him and the professor wasn't doin' no more business +than a guy would do in Hades with the ice water concession, and that +Barnum was wrong when he said they was a sucker born every minute. +Honest Dan said _his_ figures showed there was about two born every +_second_. + +He leads us into a great big hall that was filled with statues, +pictures, rugs, sofas, women and fatheads. The furnishings of this +joint would make Buckingham Palace look like a stable. It must have +ruined the Kid's five thousand just to lay in scenery for that one room +alone. The statues and pictures was nearly all devoted to one subject, +and that was why should people wear clothes--especially women? The +victims is all lollin' around on them plush sofas, drinkin' tea and +lookin' like a ten-year-old kid at church or a guy waitin' in the +doctor's office to find out if he's got consumption or chilblains. It +was as quiet as a Sunday in Philadelphia and they was also a very +strong smell of burnin' glue, which Honest Dan said was sacred incense +that always had to be used by the professor before he could work. + +Among the decorations was a very large dame sittin' over in a corner +dressed within a inch of her life. I suppose she had ears, a neck and +hands, but you couldn't tell right away whether she had or not, because +them parts of her anatomy, as the feller says, was buried under a +carload of diamonds. You could see by her face that at one time she +had probably been a swell-lookin' dame, but them days was all over. +Still, she was makin' a game try at comin' back, and from her +complexion she must have been kept busy day and night openin' bottles +and cans signed on the outside by Lillian Russell and etc. + +This dame was havin' the best time of anybody in the joint. She was +sittin' up very straight and solemn with both chins restin' in her +glitterin' hands and from the look in her eyes some Sunday paper had +just claimed she was the best lookin' woman in America and the like. + +A guy wouldn't have to be no Sherlock Holmes to see that this was the +bird that was bein' readied for the big killin' by Honest Dan and his +trick professor. The rest of them was just what you might call the +chorus. + +Sittin' right beside the stout party was a kid that had just dropped in +from the cover of a magazine. She was the kind of female that could +come down to breakfast with the mumps and her hair in curl papers, fry +the egg on the wrong side and yet make the lucky guy across the table +go out whistlin' and pityin' his unwed friends. You know how them +dames look when they have give some time to _dollin' up_, don't you? +Well, this one had everything; take it from me, she was a knockout! +She's tappin' the floor with a classy little foot and tryin' to see can +she pull a silk handkerchief apart with her bare hands, the while +registerin' this, +"This-medium-thing-is-the-bunk-and-I-wish-I-was-out-of-here!" + +I doped her as the stout dame's daughter, hittin' .1000 on the guess as +I found out later. + +"Well," whispers Honest Dan to the Kid, "what d'ye think of the place?" + +"Some joint!" says the Kid. "Listen--I got a new one. The most +magnificently, male mauler on earth! How's that--poor, eh?" + +"What does it mean?" asks Honest Dan. + +"It means _me_, Stupid!" pipes the Kid. "I'm havin' some cards made up +with that on it. The sagacious, sanguine and scandalous Scanlan, +welterweight walloper of the world! Where's the professor?" + +"Sssh!" whispers Honest Dan. "Lay off that _professor_ gag here. +That's small town stuff--he's a mahatma now! He's in one of his +silences, but if you keep quiet I'll take you around and show you how +he works." + +He takes us through a little door that leads into a dark room which was +a steal on the old chamber of horrors at the Eden Musee. It was full +of ghost pictures drawed by artists who had no use for prohibition, and +they was plenty of skulls and stuff like that layin' around where they +would do the most good. At the far end is a small wire gratin' with a +Morris chair on the other side of it. Honest Dan explains that that's +where the come-ons sit while the professor massages their soul. They +never see him, Dan figurin' in that way it would be harder to pick the +professor out at police headquarters when the district attorney got +around to him. We hadn't been there a minute, when the curtain at the +other end of the room opens and in blows the stout dame, floppin' down +in the chair with a sigh as the professor pulls open the grate to feed +her the oil. Dan pulls us back in the dark, and I notice she was so +excited that she shook all over like a ten cent portion of cornstarch +or Instant Desserto and her breath was comin' in short little gasps. + +Honest Dan is takin' a inventory of the couple of quarts of diamonds +she wore and figurin' the list price on his shirt cuffs. When he got +through, he dug me in the ribs and says it looks like a big winter. + +The professor starts to talk with a strong Ellis Island dialect, +tellin' the dame that he's just been in a trance, give the sacred +crystal the once over and took up her case with a few odd ghosts. The +result was that a spirit which was in the know had just give him a tip +that she was no less than the tenth regular reincarnation of Cleopatra, +who did a big time act in one with a guy called Marc Anthony which was +now doin' a single or had jumped to the movies or somethin' like that. + +The stout dame gets up off the chair and waves her handkerchief. + +"Merciful Heavens!" she remarks loudly. "I knew it!" + +Then she pulls a funny fall and faints! + +The professor hisses at Dan to get him a cigarette, and the West Indian +hall boys drag the stout dame into the chair from which she had slipped +followin' the professor's sure-fire stuff about Cleopatra. He snatches +a few drags out of the cigarette before the dame comes to and when she +does, he goes on and says yes she is Cleopatra, they ain't no doubt +about that part of it and she must have noticed the strange power she +had over men all her life, hadn't she? The stout dame sighs and nods +her head. The professor then tells her that she has been in wrong and +unhappy all her life, because she had never met her mate. The same +bein' a big, husky, red-blooded cave man which would club her senseless +and carry her off to his lair. Had she ever met anybody like that? +The stout dame says not lately, but when poor Henry and her had first +got wed he was a Saturday night ale-hound and once or twice he had--but +never mind, she won't speak ill of the dead. The professor says he can +see that nobody of the real big-league calibre has crossed her path as +yet and that her husband's spirit had told him in confidence only the +other day that one night he got to thinkin' what a poor worm he was to +be married to Cleopatra, and it had been too much for his humble soul +which bust. + +The dame nods and starts to weep. + +"Poor Hennerey!" she says. "He ain't stopped lyin' yet. I should +never have wed him, but how did I know that my fatal beauty would prove +his undoing?" + +"Ain't that rich?" pipes Honest Dan in my ear. + +The professor has a coughin' spell, and when he calmed himself, he says +he has just got in touch with Marc Anthony and he's pullin' the wires +to have him come back to earth so's their souls can be welded together +again and if she will come back in a week, he'll be able to tell her +some big news. He said it was bein' whispered around among the spirits +that Marc Anthony was on earth now, eatin' his noble heart out because +he couldn't find her. + +Then he suddenly shuts the gate, and the dame staggers out, overcome +with joy and the smell of that incense which would have made a glue +factory quit. Honest Dan beats it around and opens the door for her. +They wouldn't take a nickel off her then, because they was savin' her +for the big play. + +About a week after our visit to the Temple of the Inner Star, the Kid +comes runnin' up to my room at the hotel one mornin' and busts in the +door. He's got a newspaper in his hand and he slams it down on the bed +and kicks a innocent chair over on its side. + +"I hope they give him eighty years!" he hollers. + +"Who's your friend?" I asks him. + +"Friend!" he screams. "Why, the big psalm-singin' stiff, I'll murder +him!" + +"They's just one thing I'd like to know, Kid," I says. "Who?" + +"That cheap, pan-handlin' crook that Dan Leduc wished on me!" he yells. +"That rotten snake I kept from dyin' in the gutter, that baby-stealin' +rat which claims he's a medium! Professor Bunko--that's who!" + +I grabbed up the paper and all over the front page is a picture of Miss +Vincent. Underneath it says this, + +"Famous Film Star Rumored Engaged to Millionaire." + +"Well," I says, "what has this here social note got to do with the +Professor?" + +"What has a jockey got to do with horse-racin'?" bellers the Kid. "Why +the big hick, I'll go down there and strangle him right out loud before +them high-brow simps of his! I'll have him pinched and I hope he gets +life! I'll--" + +He went on like that for half an hour, and when he finally cools off he +explains that the professor had guaranteed to dust off his charmers and +charm Miss Vincent so hard that she wouldn't even give a pleasant smile +to nobody but the Kid. All Scanlan had to do was follow the +professor's dope and they'd be nothin' to it but slippin' the minister +and payin' the railroad people for the honeymoon. The Kid had gone +ahead and done like the professor said, startin' off with the letter +requestin' a lock of her hair clipped at eleven eighteen on a rainy +Sunday night. Then he telegraphed her to bathe her thumbs in hot +oolong tea every Friday at noon and send him the leaves in a red +envelope. He followed that up with a note demandin' a ring that she +had first dipped in the juice of a stewed poppy, and then held in back +of her while she said, "Alagazza, gazzopi, gazzami" thirteen times. + +I guess the professor overplayed the thing a bit, because the only +action the Kid got was a short note from Miss Vincent in which she said +that as long as he had started right in to drink the minute he hit New +York, their friendship was all over. The next thing was that notice in +the paper. + +The Kid's idea was to go right down and wreck the Temple of the Inner +Star, windin' up by havin' Honest Dan and his bunk medium pinched. I +showed him where it would do no good, because he had set 'em up in +business and if they was crooked the jury would figure that and put the +Kid's name on one of them indictments. He calmed off finally and said +he'd be satisfied to let it go at half killin' 'em both and makin' a +bum out of the Temple of the Inner Star. + +We got down there in a few minutes, and Honest Dan meets us at the +door. He's all excited and says the time has come for the big hog +killin', after which they're gonna blow New York, because they been +tipped off that the new police commissioner is about to startle the +natives with a raid. The Kid starts to bawl him out, when the big +stout dame is ushered into the room and Dan hustles us into the +professor's shrine in the rear. + +As soon as she gets inside, the professor tells her to prepare for a +shock. She shivers all over, grabbin' the side of the chair and takin' +a long whiff out of a little green bottle. Then she says she'll try +and be brave, and to let her have the works. The professor says he has +finally dug up Marc Anthony, and all the spirits is in there tryin' for +them, so's they can be brought together. He told her to go right back +to her rooms at the Fitz-Charlton and he would send out the old thought +waves for Marc. Just when he'd get him, he didn't know--it might be a +day, a week or a month, but she was to sit there all dolled up to +receive him and wait. He said she would know Marc, because he would +have a snake tattooed on the third finger of his right hand in memory +of the way Cleopatra kissed off. That's all he was allowed to give out +just now, he winds up. + +Well, the stout dame thanks him about six hundred times and waddles out +darn near hysterical. She grabs hold of her daughter and hisses in her +ear, + +"Oh, Gladys, they've found him! My beloved Marc Anthony is coming to +claim me for his own. Then we will return to Egypt, and, sitting upon +a golden throne--" + +Friend daughter pulls a weary smile and leads Cleopatra to the door. + +"Oh, don't, mother!" she says. "Don't! If you only knew how all this +sickens me! This man has hypnotized you! Why don't you listen to me +and take that trip to California where--" + +"What!" squeals the stout dame. "What? Be away when my Marc comes? +How dare you think of such a thing! I did that once and if you have +read your ancient history, you must remember the terrible result!" + +Daughter sighs, shakes her head and they go out. + +Now the Kid has been takin' all this stuff in without lettin' a peep +out of him and when the stout dame has left, I figured he'd tear right +in to the plotters, so I got ready to hold up my end and reached for a +chair. But what d'ye think the Kid did? He falls down on a sofa and +starts to laugh! On the level, I bet he snickered out loud for a good +fifteen minutes and then he gets up and walks to the door without +sayin' a single word to either Dan or the professor, after all that +stuff he pulled on me at the hotel! + +While we're goin' down in the elevator, Honest Dan tells us that they +got a handsome actor who just now is playin' in a show called "Standin' +on the Corners, Waitin' for a Job," and they're gonna have him get a +snake painted on the third finger of his right hand and shoo him up to +the stout dame the next day. After he has been welcome homed, Marc +Anthony is gonna say that he's makin' out a check for the professor +which throwed them together, and don't she think she ought to send in +somethin' also? When she asks what he thinks would be about right, +Marc Anthony is gonna say that he guesses she ought to keep the pen she +wrote the check with as a souvenir, but that everything else she had, +includin' anything a pawnbroker would give a ticket on, would do! + +I didn't say nothin' to that, but I was doin' a piece of thinkin' and +as soon as we got our feet on Fifth Avenue again, I let go. I told the +Kid what I thought of his friend Honest Dan in language that Billy +Sunday could have been proud of. When I got through with Dan, I took +up the professor and give him a play. I said it was my belief that a +couple of safety-first crooks, who would deliberate trim a simple old +stout dame out of her dough in that coarse manner, should be taken up +to the Metropolitan tower and eased off. + +The Kid just grins and starts hummin' under his breath. + +By this time I had worked myself up to such a pitch that my goat was +chasin' madly about the streets, and to have the Kid act that way was +about all I needed. I carefully explained to him just how many kinds +of a big, yellah tramp he was, to let the professor crab him with Miss +Vincent and get away with it clean. I showed him where he should have +at least bent a chair over that guy's head, if he was a real gentleman +whose honor had been trifled with and not a four flushin' false alarm. + +"Gobs of generous Gazoopis!" he snickers at me when I get through. +"Our employees is all new, noisy and Norwegians!" + +They was a queer look in his eye, and I figured he must have slipped +out in the mornin' at that and dug up a place where prohibition hadn't +carried. I stopped right in the middle of the traffic and told him I +was goin' up to the Fritz-Charlton the next mornin' and tip the stout +dame off, if it was the last thing I did. + +He just grins! + +The next mornin' I beat it up to Cleopatra's hotel, and, after I have +waited an hour, she sends a maid down to see me. The maid tells me to +spread my hands out flat on a little table that's standin' there and +she examines every finger like a sure enough mechanic looks over a +second-hand automobile he's gonna buy to hack with. Finally, she +throws my hands down with a disappointed look and her shoulders begins +one of them hula dances. + +"_Viola_!" she remarks. "That leetle snake, he is not there! Madame +she is not at home--away wit' you!" + +Well, I figures I did what _I_ could, so I breezed out and left +Cleopatra flat. + +Failin' to locate the Kid anywheres, I went on down to the studio and +walk right in on the professor and Honest Dan givin' Marc Anthony a +dress rehearsal. He was a handsome guy, all right, sickenin'ly so, +with one of them soft, mushy faces and wavin' blonde hair. He's had +the snake tattooed on his finger, like the part called for, and the way +he carries on about how he's gonna give the stout dame the work makes +me foam at the mouth. My once favorably known left had all it could do +to keep from bouncin' off his chin! Finally, they start him away and +Honest Dan tells me how they got it framed up for him to meet +Cleopatra. He was to go to the Fritz-Charlton and send up a card that +claimed he was the editor of "Society Seethings," and when she comes +down to see him, he was to ask her what was her plans for the winter +season and a lot of bunk like that. In no way was he to make a crack +about bein' Marc Anthony--that would be too raw, but as he was leavin' +he was to carelessly let her see that snake on his finger. That was +all! + +They knowed Cleopatra would do the rest. + +I couldn't stand no more, so I hustled back to our hotel, and the +minute I get in, the clerk tells me the Kid has been chasin' around +lookin' for me all morning so I beat it right up to our suite. The Kid +is doin' his road work by canterin' around the room when I come in, and +he rushes over and grabs me by the arm. + +"When are them yeggmen gonna send Marc Anthony up to Cleopatra?" he +demands, all excited. + +"He just left a few minutes ago!" I tells him. "Why?" + +The Kid gives a yell and jumps over to the door leadin' to our +sittin'-room, yankin' it open with one jerk. I thought I'd pass away +when I got a flash at what was inside. They was about twenty of the +roughest lookin' guys I ever seen in my life, all dolled up in new +suits, shoes and hats. Some of them I recognized as ex-heavy-weights, +they was a few strikin' longshoremen, a fair sprinklin' of East Side +gunmen and here and there what had passed for a actor in the tanks. + +"Some layout, eh?" pipes the Kid, rubbin' his hands together. "It took +me all mornin' and nearly three hundred bucks to rib them guys up, but +they're all desperate, darin' and dolled up!" + +"What the--what's the big idea?" I gasps. + +"Hold up your hands!" roars the Kid at his rough and readys. + +They did--and I got it! + +Each and every one of them guys had a snake tattooed on the third +finger of his right hand! + +The Kid had probably put in the mornin' rehearsin' 'em, because all he +had to say now was, "Go to it!" and they beat it. He told me they was +all goin' up to the Fritz-Charlton and ask for the stout dame at three +minute intervals, show their right hand and claim they was Marc Anthony! + +"If that don't show the stout dame that the professor is the bunk and +if she don't let out a moan that'll be plainly heard at police +headquarters, I'll make Dan a present of the five thousand he took me +for!" says the Kid. + +In about a hour the telephone begins to ring and I answers it. When +the ravin' maniac on the other end of the wire got to where he could +control the English language, I found out it was no less than Honest +Dan. The main thing he said was for us to come down to the Temple of +the Inner Star right away, because him and the professor has got in a +terrible jam. We hopped in a taxi and did like he said. Honest Dan is +waitin' in the elevator for us, and he looked like the loser in a +battle royal. He says the stout dame has just left, and she's in a +terrible state. I could believe that easy, because they is nothin' +more vicious in the land of the free than a enraged come-on. I'd +rather face a nervous wildcat than face a angry boob! + +"Somebody put the bee on us!" howls Honest Dan, wringin' his hands. +"And a truckload of guys went up to the hotel claimin' they was Marc +Anthony in voices that disturbed people in China. They throwed the +real Marc out on his lily white ear, and seven of 'em got pinched for +disorderly conduct. I understand they was a mêlée up there that would +make a football game look like chess and the papers is havin' a field +day with the thing! We got to grab Cleopatra's gems and go away from +here before the whole plant is uncovered." + +"Why," I says, "how are you gonna take the stout dame now? She knows +it's a fake, don't she?" + +"Fake, hell!" hollers Dan. "_She thinks it's on the level_! The only +thing that bothers her is which one is the _right_ Marc Anthony. She +says two of them had such patrician faces that she thinks some of the +Caesars has got mixed up with the lot. She's gonna put it up to her +late husband, and she's comin' back here any minute to talk with his +spirit!" He begins walkin' the floor. "I never seen no dame like +that!" he busts out. "She _wants_ to be trimmed! The only thing she +seemed to be sore about was the fact that she couldn't pick out the +right Marc Anthony. Now we git the chance of a lifetime to grab a roll +when she comes back and we ain't got no ghost! If I could only get the +guy that sent all them Marc Anthonys up there," he winds up with a +yell, "I'd make a ghost out of him!" + +He never seemed to think the Kid might have done it, because the Kid +was the boy that had set him and the professor up in business and why +should he crab his own play? + +A little electric buzzer makes good while Honest Dan is ravin' away, +and Dan, gettin' white, grabs the Kid by the arm and begs him to come +to the rescue. + +"Jump in that cabinet there!" he whispers to him. "And when this dame +asks if you're Henry, say yes, and tell her the real Marc Anthony is +the guy with the blonde hair, and he's now at the City Hospital. +That's all you got to say and--" + +He shoves the Kid back of the cabinet and me back of a curtain just as +Cleopatra blows in with her daughter. Honest Dan tells them to be +seated quick, because the professor has just got the spirit of her +husband where he's ready to talk to the reporters. The West Indian +hall boys sneak around in the back, rattlin' chains and bangin' on +pans. Then Dan reaches back and opens the mechanical bellows, and a +blast of cold air comes into the room while a white light flashes over +the cabinet. + +"Now!" whispers Dan to the stout dame, "speak quick!" + +At that minute, Dan looked like a guy with a ticket on a hundred to one +shot, watchin' it breeze into the stretch leadin' by by a city block. + +"Is--is that you Henery?" squeaks Cleopatra in a tremblin' voice. + +They's a rustle in the cabinet and then _this_ comes out over the top. + +"Generous gobs of Gazoopis! Our employees is ready, reckless and +Russian. This guy is crooked, crazy and careless. He will take you +for your beautiful, bulgin' bankroll and--" + +"Why, Henery!" squawks the dame, jumpin' up off the chair. + +I heard the well known dull thud on the other side of the cabinet, and +I guess it was Professor Parducci fallin' senseless on the floor. I +thought Honest Dan had dropped dead from the way he was hung over a +sofa. + +"Each and every day," goes on the voice in the cabinet, "each and every +day we ship a million lovely loaves--" + +"Merciful Heavens!" yells the dame. "A sign! Henery, shall I go back?" + +"Back is right!" says the voice. "These guys is cheap crooks and they +ain't no Marc Anthony!" + +The lights go out and Honest Dan comes to, rushin' over to the stout +dame with a million alibis tryin' to be first out of his mouth. I beat +it around to the back, but the professor has gone somewheres else while +the goin' was fair to medium. + +"You have deceived me, you wretch!" screams the stout dame. "You +have--" + +That's as far as she got, because right in the middle of it she pulls a +faint, and daughter eases her to the floor. The Kid hops out of the +cabinet and grabs Honest Dan. + +"Beat it, you rat," bawls Scanlan, "before I commit mayhem!" + +From the way Honest Dan went out of that room, he must have passed +Samoa, the first hour! + +Daughter reaches up and grabs the Kid's hand. + +"I--I--want to thank you," she says, "for saving my mother. I--I don't +know what might have happened, if you hadn't been here!" + +"That's all right!" pipes the Kid. "D'ye want us to do anything else?" + +"Yes," she says. "Will you tell me where you heard that--that +description of the--the million lovely loaves?" + +"Sure," answers the Kid. "When we was comin' East, we stopped off at a +hick burg somewheres and a guy took us over a bakery--" + +Daughter claps her hands and laughs. + +"Poetic justice!" she says. "That explains everything. My poor, dear +father founded that bakery, and those were the last advertisements for +it he wrote!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +LIFE IS REEL! + +The nation is bein' flooded these days with advertisements claimin' +that any white man which works for less than forty thousand bucks a +year is a sucker. The best of 'em is wrote by a friend of mine, Joe +Higgins, who gets all of twenty bucks every Saturday at six--one-thirty +in July, August and September. + +The ads that Joe tears off deals with inventions. He shows that Edison +prob'ly wouldn't of made a nickel over a million, if he hadn't +discovered everything but America, and that Bell, Marconi, Fulton and +that gang, wouldn't of been any better known to-day than ham and eggs, +if they hadn't used their brains for purposes of thinkin' and invented +somethin'. There's fortunes which would make the Vanderbilts and +Astors look like public charges, explains Joe, awaitin' the bird which +will quit playin' Kelly pool some night and invent a new way to do +_anything_. + +The ad winds up with the important information that the people which +Joe works for is so close to the patent office gang that they could get +French fried potatoes copyrighted. For the sum of "write for +particulars," they'll rush madly from Washington papers that'll protect +any idea you got, before some snake-in-the-grass friend plies you with +strawberry sundaes and steals your secret. At the bottom of this +there's a long list of things sadly needed by a sufferin' public, which +will willin'ly shower their inventor with medals and money,--things +like non-playable ukaleles, doctors which can guess what's the matter +with _you_ instead of your bankroll, grape fruit that won't hit back +while you're eatin' it, non-refillable jails and so forth. All you got +to do is stake yourself to a couple of test tubes, a white apron and a +laboratory, hire Edison, Marconi, Maxim and Hennery Ford as +assistants--with the U. S. Mint in back of you in case expenses come +up--and you'll wake up some mornin' to find yourself the talk of Fall +River. + +I been lookin' over these ads for a long time, but there's three names +I never seen on the list of famous inventors. They are to wit: the guy +that discovered the only absolute cure for rheumatism, the one that +invented the dope book on the female race and the bird that holds a +patent on the complete understandin' of human nature. I guess the +reason I never seen _their_ names is because the thing ain't really +been decided yet--there seems to be some difference of opinion. But if +you wanna find out how many guys there are that swear they invented +_all_ them things, look up the population of the world. The figures is +exactly the same. + +I ain't met nobody yet which didn't admit they had the only correct +dope on women, rheumatism and human nature, but I'm still waitin' to be +introduced to the guy which really knows anything at all about _any_ of +'em, when it gets right down to the box score! + +The nearest I ever come to knowin' the original patentee to two of 'em +was Eddie Duke. Eddie is one of the best men in the movable picture +game, accordin' to everybody but himself. _He_ concedes he's _the_ +best. He's a little, aggressive guy which would of prob'ly been a +lightweight champion, for instance, if it hadn't been for his parents. +They killed off his chances of makin' _big_ money, by slippin' him a +medium dose of education when he was too young to fight back. Eddie's +like a million other guys I know, all Half-way Henrys, you might call +'em. Too much brains to dig streets and not enough to own 'em! +Unhappy mediums that always calls _somebody_ boss! + +We're sittin' in Duke's office one mornin', when without even +knockin'--a remarkable thing for a movie star--in walks Edmund De +Vronde. Edmund has caused more salesladies to take their pens in hand +than any other actor in the world. His boudoir is hung with pictures +of dames from eight to eighty and from Flatbush to Florida. If some of +'em was actual reproductions, them dames was foolish for sellin' +shirtwaists, believe me! Edmund is as beautiful as five hundred a week +and built like Jack Dempsey. Off the screen he's as rough and ready as +a chorus man. + +"Hello, Cutey!" says the Kid, who liked De Vronde and carbolic acid the +same way. + +"I've come to ask a favor," says De Vronde. + +"Well," Duke tells him, lightin' a cigarette and lookin' straight at +the end of it, "we ain't gonna pay for no more autographed photos, we +won't fire the press agent, you gotta finish this picture with Miss +Hart and both them camera men that's shootin' this movie is high-class +mechanics and stays! Outside of that, I'm open to reason." + +"What I want will cost you nothing," says De Vronde. "That +is--practically nothing. My dresser,--the silly idiot!--tendered me +his resignation this morning!" + +"Well, what's all this gotta do with me?" he asks De Vronde. "I can't +be bothered diggin' up valets to see that you got plenty of fresh +vanilla cold cream every morning and that they's ample talcum powder on +the chiffonier! I got--" + +"I have already secured a man," interrupts De Vronde. "He happens to +be a--a--friend of mine. The poor fellow is desperately in need of +work. He's in Denver at present, and I'd like to have him on as soon +as possible. If we're to begin that big feature on Monday, I'm sure I +can't be bothered thinking about where this shirt and that cravat is, +and just what color combinations will be best for my costume in the +gypsy cave." + +"That's right!" grins the Kid. "Figure for yourself what would happen, +if Cutey forgot his mustache curler, for instance. The whole country +would be, now, aghast, and he'd be a nervous wreck in five minutes!" + +"So if you'll kindly telegraph the fare to this address," goes on De +Vronde, ignorin' the Kid, "I'll be obliged." + +With that he blows. + +"And the tough part of it is," moans Duke, reachin' for a 'phone, "I'll +have to do just that! It'll cost about sixty bucks to import this bird +here and when he gets here, it's nothin' but another mouth to feed. If +I had half the nerve of that big stiff De Vronde, I'd take a German +quartette over to London and make 'em sing the 'Wacht Am Rhein' in +front of Buckin'ham Palace!" + +"He claims this valet's a friend of his, too," says the Kid. "I'll bet +he'll turn out to be another one of them sweet spirits of nitre boys, +eh?" + +"If he is," growls Duke, "it won't be two days before he'll be sick and +tired of the movie game, you can bet two green certificates on that!" + +A week later, me and the Kid is standin' near the entrance to Film City +talkin' to Miss Vincent, when a young feller blows in through the gates +and walks up to us. He's one of them tall birds, as thin as a dime, +and his clothes has been brushed right into the grain. When the light +hit him, I seen they was places where even the grain had quit. His +shoes is so run over at the heels that they'd of fit nice and snug into +a car track and he'd just gone and shaved himself raw. + +One good look and this bird checked up as a member in good standin' of +one of the oldest lodges in the world. They got a branch in every +city, and they was organized around the time that Adam and Eve quit the +Garden of Eden for a steam-heated flat. The name of this order is "The +Shabby Genteels." + +But what transfixed the eye and held the attention, as we remark in the +workhouse, was this guy's face. I might say he had the most +inconsistent set of features I ever seen off the screen. He ain't a +thousand miles from bein' good-looking and his chin is well cut and +square, like at one time he'd been willin' to hustle for his wants and +fight for 'em once he got 'em, but that time ain't _now_! His eyes is +the tip-off. They don't look straight into yours when he talks--the +liar's best bet!--or they don't look at the ground, but they stare off +over your shoulder into the air, like he's seein' somethin' _you_ +can't, and it ain't pleasant to look at. + +I've seen that look on beaten fighters, when the winner is settin' +himself for the knockout, and I've seen it on the faces of other guys, +when some smug-jowled judge has reached into their lives and took ten +or twenty years as a deposit on what they'll do with the rest. It's a +look you don't forget right away, take it from me! + +Well, this feller that's walkin' up to us had that look. If a director +had yelled "Register despair!" at him, he could of just looked natural +and they'd of thought he was another Mansfield. + +And he's _young_! Get that? + +"Pardon me!" he says, takin' off his hat. "Where can I find Mister De +Vronde?" + +The Kid puts his hand on his arm and swings him around, + +"You'll pro'bly find him over behind the Street Scene in Venice," he +tells him. "If he ain't there, look around the Sahara Desert for +him--know him when you see him?" + +The other guy looks at us for a minute like he thinks he's bein' +kidded. Then he pulls a slow, tired grin. + +"I think so," he says. "Thanks!" + +When he walks away, I turns to Miss Vincent. + +"That's prob'ly Cutey De Vronde's new guardeen," I says. "I guess he--" + +"You and the Kaiser is the same kind of guessers!" butts in the Kid. +"He guessed we wouldn't scrap! If that guy we was just talkin' to is a +lady's maid for Cutey, I can sing like Caruso!" + +"He doesn't look like a valet," says Miss Vincent, kinda doubtful. + +"I don't blame him!" says the Kid. "And lemme tell you, he never got +them muscles from brushin' clothes and buttonin' vests. I felt his arm +when I swung him around that time, and this guy is just about as soft +as the Rock of Gibraltar!" + +"I can't understand," says Miss Vincent, "how a strong, healthy man can +be a valet--ugh!" she winds up, with a little shiver. + +"That's easy," sneers the Kid. "A _man_ can't!" + +Well, a man _did_! Gimme your ears, as the deaf guy said. + +The next mornin' it turns out that I can guess like a rabbit can run. +The new entry on the payroll borrehs a match from me, and durin' the +tête-à-tête that folleyed, I find out that his name is John R. Adams +and, as far as the world in general and America in particular is +concerned, it could of been George Q. Mud. Durin' the lifetime of +twenty-nine years he's been on earth, he's tried his hand at everything +from bankin' to bartenderin', and so far the only thing he's been a +success at is bein' a failure. At that he leads the league. And now, +to top it all off, he's a valet for a movie hero! + +"It's all a matter of luck!" he says, bitterly. "A man who tries these +days is not an ambitious hustler, but a _pest_ to the powers above him! +I defy a man to stand on his own feet and make good without influence. +It's not _what_ do you know any more, but _who_ do you know! I've been +a bookkeeper, a printer, a salesman, a chauffeur, a bank clerk, and, +yes, even a chorus man. At every one of those things I gave the best I +had in stock to get to the front. Did I get there? Not quite!" he +throws away the cigarette he's hardly had a puff of. "Why?" he asks +me. "Because in every trade or profession there's somebody with half +the sand and ability, who don't know the job's requirements but knows +the boss's son! I'm not a quitter or I wouldn't be here, but I'm sick +and disgusted with this thing called life and--" + +"And that's why you never got nowhere!" breaks in a voice behind +us--and there's Eddie Duke. Adams flushes up and starts away, but +Eddie pulls him back. + +"Listen to me, young feller!" he says. "I happened to hear your moan +just now and your dope is all wrong. There ain't no such thing as +luck; if there was, a blacksmith is the luckiest guy in the world and +oughta make a million a minute, because he's handlin' nothin' but +horseshoes all day long, ain't he? Forget about that luck stuff! +Makin' good is all in the way you look at it, anyways. A bricklayer +makin' thirty bucks a week, raisin' a family and bringin' home his pay +every Saturday night in his pocket instead of on his breath, is makin' +good as big as J. P. Morgan is--d'ye get me? Yes, sir, that bird can +say he's got over! Makin' good is like religion, every other guy has a +different idea of what it means, but there's many a feller swingin' a +pick that's makin' good just as much as the bird that owns the +ditch--in his own way! You claim a guy's got to know somebody these +days to get over, eh? Well, you got that one right, I'll admit it!" + +"Of course!" says Adams, brightenin' up. "That's my argument and--" + +"That ain't no argument, that's a whine!" sneers Duke, cuttin' him off +short. "Listen to me--you bet you gotta know somebody to get +anywheres, _you gotta know yourself_! That's all! Just lay off +thinkin' how lucky the other guy is, and give Stephen X. You a minute's +attention. You may be the biggest guy in the world at _somethin'_, if +you'll only check up on yourself and see what that somethin' is! +Remember Whosthis says, 'Full many a rose is born to blush unseen--' +Well, don't be one of them desert flowers; come into the city and let +'em all watch you blush. Get me? How did you happen to meet this big +stiff De Vronde?" + +Adams gets pale for a second and clears his throat. + +"I'm working for him," he says slowly, like he's thinkin' over each +word before lettin' it go, "and I don't care to discuss him." + +At just that minute, De Vronde, Miss Vincent, the Kid and another dame +come rollin' up in Miss Vincent's twelve-cylinder garage-mechanic's +friend. De Vronde hops out and walks over to us, wavin' his cane and +frownin'. + +"Look here!" he bawls at Adams. "I thought I told you to be at the +east gate with my duster and goggles? You've kept me waiting half an +hour, while you're gossiping around! Really, if you're going to start +this way, I shall have to get another man. Look sharp now, no excuses!" + +The Kid winks at me, noddin' to Adams who's lookin' at De Vronde with a +very peculiar gaze. I couldn't quite get what he's registerin'. Miss +Vincent looks interested and sits up. The other dame opens the door of +the car and stands on the runnin' board. + +"Here's where the fair Edmund gets his and gets it good!" hisses Duke +in my ear, lookin' at Adams. + +"I'm very sorry," says Adams, suddenly. "I should have remembered." + +And without another word or look, he exits. + +"Yellah!" snorts the Kid. + +"No spine!" sneers Miss Vincent. + +"Nick-looking boy--who is he?" asks the other dame, lookin' after him. + +Duke slaps his hands together all of a sudden and gazes at her like a +guy gettin' his first flash at his hour-old son. Then he looks after +Adams, grins and claps his hands again. + +"Who is he?" repeats the dame. + +De Vronde sneers. + +"Really," he says, "your interest is surprising. That fellow is my--" + +"Shut up!" roars Duke, springin' to the runnin'-board. "Here!" he goes +on, talkin' fast. "I'm gonna shoot them two interiors in half a hour, +so you better call this joy ride off!" He turns to the strange dame +and speaks very polite, "Miss Vincent will show you everything; if you +want anything, just 'phone the office." + +When they're gone, Duke turns to me and grins. + +"I often heard you say you made Scanlan welterweight champ," he says, +"by _pickin'_ the guys he was to fight till he got where he could lick +'em _all_. Well, I'm gonna do the same thing for our friend Mister +Jack Adams, valet for Edmund De Vronde, the salesladies' joy. I'm +goin' in that boy's corner from this day on, and, when I get through, +he'll be a champ!" + +"What?" I says. "Train a guy like that for the ring? Why--" + +"I see you don't make me," he interrupts, "which is just as well, +because you'd be liable to ball the whole thing up, if you did. This +kid Adams has got symptoms of bein' a he-man in his face. He's hit the +bumps good and hard and right now he's down, takin' a long count. Now +whether he needs to be helped or kicked to his feet, I don't know, but +I'm the baby that's gonna stand him up!" + +"Well," I tells him, "go to it! But the thing I can't figure, is what +d'you care if he gets over or not--who pays _you_ off on it?" + +He looks me over for a minute, registerin' deep thought. + +"I'm gonna give you the works!" he says finally. "And if you ever +mention a word of this to anybody, they'll have to identify your body +afterwards by that green vest you got!" + +"Rockefeller's three dollars short of havin' enough money to make me +tell!" I says. + +"Fair enough!" says Duke. "Did you notice that strange dame which was +with Miss Vincent in the car just now?" + +"The blonde that would of made Marc Anthony throw away Cleopatra's +'phone number?" I asks. "Yeh--I noticed her. Easily that!" + +"Well," he says, "this dame, which was such a knockout to you, is Miss +Dorothy Devine. When her father died last year, she become a orphan." + +"Well, that's tough," I says. "Me and the Kid will kick in with any +amount in reason and--" + +"Halt!" said Eddie. "Her dear old father only left her a pittance of +fifty thousand a year and two-thirds control of the company we're all +workin' for out here. Now besides bein' several jumps ahead of the +average dame in looks, Dorothy is a few centuries ahead of the movies +in ideas. She claims we're all wrong, and she's gonna revolutionize +the watch-'em-move photo industry. That's what she's here for now!" + +"Well," I says after a bit, "what d'ye expect _me_ to do--bust out +cryin'?" + +"Not yet!" he says. "I'll tell you when. Accordin' to Dorothy, all +the pictures we put out are rotten. Our heroes and villains are +plucked alive from dime novels and is everything but true to life. Our +heroines belong in fairy tales and oughta be let stay there. _She_ +claims that no beautiful girl with more money than the U. S. Mint would +fall for the handsome lumberjack, and that no guy who couldn't do +nothin' better than punch cows would become boss of the ranch through +love of the owner's daughter. All that stuff's the bunk, she says. +Her dope is that a real man would boost himself to the top, girl or no +girl, and the woman never lived which could put a man over, if he +didn't have the pep himself. As a finish, she tells me that no +healthy, intelligent girl would stand for the typical movie hero. A +bird which would go out and ride roughshod over all the villains like +they do in the films would nauseate her, she says, and we have no right +to encourage this bunk by feedin' it to an innocent public!" + +"Eddie," I says, "she ain't a mile off the track, at that! This--" + +"Oh, she ain't, eh?" he snarls. "Well that shows that you and her +knows as much about human nature as I do about makin' a watch! Miss +Devine wants us to put on a movie that she committed herself, and, if +we do, we'll be the laughin' stock of the world and Big Bend. It's got +everything in it but a hero, a heroine, a villain, action and love +interest. It's about as hot as one of them educational thrillers like +'Natives Makin' Panama Hats in Peoria' would be. A couple of these +would put the company on the blink, and I lose a ten-year contract at +ample money a year!" + +"Well," I says, "what are you gonna do--quit?" + +"Your mind must be as clean as a baby's," he says, "because you got +your first time to use it! No, I ain't gonna quit! I'm gonna show +Miss Dorothy Devine that as a judge of movin' pictures, she's a +swell-lookin' girl. I like these tough games, a guy feels so good all +over when he wins 'em. She's startin' with all the cards--money, looks +and, what counts more, she's just about the Big Boss here now. All I +got is one good card and that's only a jack--Jack Adams, to be +exact--and I'm gonna beat her with him!" + +"I'll fall!" I says. "How?" + +"Well," he tells me, "my argument is that all these thrillers we put on +are sad, weary and slow compared to some of the things that happen in +real life every day that we never hear about. They's many a telephone +girl, for instance, makin' a man outa a millionaire's no-good son and +many a sure-enough heiress bein' responsible for the first mate on a +whaler becomin' her kind and a director in the firm! I claim it does +_good_ and not harm, to feed this stuff to a trustin' public by way of +the screen. Why? Because every shippin'-clerk that's sittin' out in +front puts himself in the hero's place and every salesgirl dreams that +she's the heroine. Without thinkin', they both get to pickin' up the +virtues we pin on our stars, and it can't _help_ but do 'em good! I +don't know who started the shimmy, but I know women and I know human +nature, and knowin' 'em both, I'm gonna make a sportin' proposition to +Miss Dorothy Devine!" + +"What's the bet?" I says. "I may take some of it myself." + +"The bet is this," he tells me. "Here's this boy Adams, who, bein' De +Vronde's valet, is undisputed low man in Film City. He's disgusted +with life, he ain't got the ambition of a sleepin' alligator, or nerve +enough to speak harshly to _himself_. All right! If Miss Devine will +follow my orders for a couple of weeks without Adams knowin' who or +what she is, I claim that bird will make good! All that guy needs is a +reason for tryin', and she can make herself it!" + +"You don't expect a dame like that to make love to a guy that cleans De +Vronde's shoes, do you?" I asks him. + +"You must of been a terrible trial to teacher when you went to school!" +he snorts. "No!--I don't want her to make love to him. I want to +prove to her that the things we put in the movies is happenin' all the +time in real life, only more so! I want her to make Adams _feel_ just +how far back he's gone. I want her to cut him dead, because he's a +valet, and let him know that's the reason. Then nature and him will do +the rest, or I'll pay off! Who put Adam over? Eve! All right, I'm +gonna wind this thing up and let it go. I'll take the best scenes from +the last six pictures we put out, and make Adams and Miss Devine play +'em out, without either of 'em knowin' it. They oughta be a villain, +and I'm shy one just now, but I'll lay six to five that one will turn +up!" + +"Look here!" I says. "Suppose Miss Devine should fall for this Adams +guy for _real_! Did you ever figure that?" + +"Yes!" he snorts. "And suppose the Pacific Ocean is made outa root +beer!" + +I guess Miss Devine must of been a sport, because Duke starts his +stunts off the next day. She promised to give Adams a month to show +signs of life and to do exactly as Duke tells her. Adams ain't to be +told a thing about it, and Miss Devine giggles herself sick over how +she's gonna show Duke the difference between real life and the movies. +They put up a thousand bucks apiece. + +The first action come off when Miss Devine and Adams meets in the +"Sahara Desert" set. + +"Good morning!" pipes Adams, bowin' and raisin' his hat. + +"I beg your pardon!" comes back Miss. Devine, drawin' herself up and +presentin' him with a glance that's colder than a dollar's worth of ice. + +"I--I--said good morning!" stammers Adams, kinda flustered. + +"You have made a mistake, my man!" she says, each word bein' about +twenty below zero. "A mistake I shall report to your master. I--" + +"But--," begins Adams, gettin' red. "You--" + +"That will do!" she cuts him off. "I'm not in the habit of arguing +with servants. You may go!" + +Sweet cookie! + +The poor kid looks like he'd stopped one with his chin and for the +first time since I'd seen him, he straightens up with his hard, white +face fairly quiverin'. I thought he was ready for a peach of a +come-back, but he fooled me. He walks off without a word. + +Miss Devine laughs like a kid with a new rattle and snaps her fingers +after him. + +The next day, Duke is directin' a scene in a big thriller they're +puttin' on and Miss Devine is appearin' in it as a super at his orders. +She's wearin' enough jewels to free Ireland and she looked better than +1912 would look to Germany. Adams is standin' on one side with his +arms full of De Vronde's different changes. + +Duke looks at Miss Devine for a minute and then raises his voice. + +"Say--you!" he bawls at her. "What's the matter, can't you hear? You +made that exit wrong four times runnin', d'ye think we get this film +for nothin'? What d'ye mean by comin' here and ruinin' this scene on +me, eh? You wanna be a movie star, they tell me--well, you got the +same chance that I have of bein' made Sultan of Turkey! If you can +act, I'm King of Shantung! Why--" + +Miss Devine gasps and looks more than ever like a rose, by turnin' a +deep and becomin' shade of red. Nobody pays any attention to the +thing. They'd all heard it a million times before, when Duke was +rehearsin' supers. + +Nobody but Adams! + +He drops all of De Vronde's clothes right on the floor, and I thought +the fair Edmund would faint away dead! Adams walks right through the +camera men up to Duke and swings him around while he's still bawlin' +out Miss Devine. + +"That's enough!" he snarls, white to the ears. "One more word to this +lady, and I'll knock you down! You hound--you wouldn't dare use that +language to a man!" + +Duke's eyes sparkle, but he looks Adams over coolly and sneers. + +"Curse you, Jack Dalton!" he says. "Unhand that woman, or you shall +feel my power, eh?" He sticks his chin close to Adams's face. "Take +the air!" he growls. "Where d'ye get that leadin' man stuff? If I see +you around here any more this afternoon, I'll fire you and you'll walk +home for all the money you'll draw from this man's firm. Now, beat it!" + +Adams hesitates a minute, and then he looks like on second thought he's +scared at what he's done. He mumbles somethin' and walks right outa +the picture, nor even turnin' when De Vronde squawks at him for walkin' +over his silk duster which he'd throwed on the floor. + +"That's all for now, ladies and gentlemen!" pipes Duke suddenly, +turnin' to the bunch. "I'll shoot the rest of this to-morrow." + +They all blow out except Miss Devine. Duke looks at her, rubbin' his +hands together and grinnin'. + +"All right!" she smiles back. "First honors! What will I do next?" + +She didn't have to do nothin' next! The thing that Duke had started +got away from him and Adams led all the tricks from then to the finish. +Duke told me afterwards he felt like a guy which has lit a match on +Lower Broadway and seen the Woolworth Buildin' go up in flames! + +The very next afternoon, Mister Jack Adams becomes a star. Yes, sir! + +A gang of supers is hangin' around the general offices waitin' for +their pay. De Vronde and Miss Devine is sittin' at a cute little table +under a tree drinkin' lemonade, and Adams is standin' with the supers, +watchin'--Miss Devine. + +"Look at that big stiff tryin' to make the dame!" pipes one of the +extrys, a big husky grabbed up off the wharves in Frisco. He points at +De Vronde. "If I was built like he is, I'd eat arsenic!" + +Adams walks over to him. + +"Why?" he says, very cool and hard. + +"Heh?" says the super. "Why, look at 'im. Lookit the lace shirt he's +wearin' and them pink socks. Why--" + +"Shut up!" snarls Adams. "I know your kind--you think because a man +bathes, shaves, speaks English and wears clean linen, that there's +something wrong with him! You roughnecks resent the--" + +"Well, I'd hate to be the family that brung that up!" interrupts the +super. "Gawd! It makes a man sick to look at 'im!" + +It all happened so quick that even Miss Devine and De Vronde didn't get +it. They's just a sudden swish--a crack of bone meetin' bone, and the +big super is flat on his ear! The rest of the gang mills around, +shoutin' and yellin', and Adams prods the super with the toe of his +shoe. I see Duke runnin' over with a couple of camera men which is so +excited they've even brought their machines along. + +"Listen!" spits out Adams, bendin' over the fallen gladiator. "Don't +make any more remarks like that about--about Mister De Vronde, while +I'm in this camp! If you do, I'll hammer you to mush! If you don't +believe that, get up now and I'll illustrate it!" + +The super plays dead, and Adams turns away. + +By this time, Miss Devine and De Vronde, on the outskirts of the mob, +has seen some of it. + +"Really," says De Vronde, frowning "you'll have to stop this brawling, +Adams! I can't have my man--" + +Adams gives him the up and down. + +"Aw, shut up!" he snarls--and blows. + +Well, right now I'm a million miles up in the air and no more +interested in the thing than the bartenders was in final returns of the +prohibition vote. They's two things I can't figure at all. One of 'em +is why Adams should knock a man kickin' for roastin' De Vronde, who +didn't have a friend in the place, and the other is what Duke and them +camera men is doin' there. + +About a week blows by, and then Miss Devine rides out alone one mornin' +on a big white stallion. In a hour the horse trots into camp with the +saddle empty. For the next twenty minutes they's more excitement in +and about Film City than they was at the burnin' of Rome, but while +Duke is gettin' up searchin' parties, Adams has cranked up Miss +Devine's roadster and is a speck of dust goin' towards Frisco. + +It was around five o'clock that afternoon, when he comes back and Miss +Devine is sittin' beside him. Her ankle is all bound up with +handkerchiefs and Adams is drivin' very slow and careful. He stops and +then turns to help her outa the car, but she dodges his arm, steps down +all by herself and without any sign of a limp, walks into the general +offices. + +Adams stands lookin' after her for a minute, kinda stunned. + +"What was the matter?" I asks him, runnin' up. + +"Why," he says, without lookin' at me; "she broke--she said she broke +her ankle. She--" + +Then he turns and runs the car into the garage. + +The next mornin' he quits! + +Duke broke the news, comin' over to Miss Devine, while I'm tellin' her +how Kid Scanlan clouted his way up to the title. + +"Well, Miss Devine," he growls, "I guess you win! Adams has left Film +City flat on its back. I thought that bird had the stuff in him, but I +guess you saw deeper than I did!" + +"I guess I did!" says Miss Devine kinda slow. "I knew he'd never stay." + +Duke clears his throat a coupla times, blows his nose and wipes his +forehead with a silk handkerchief--his only dissipation. + +"And now I got a confession to make," he says, throwin' back his +shoulders like he's bracin' himself for a punch. "Ever since the day I +played you against Adams, I been takin' a movie of you and him. Every +time you was together they was a camera man--and a good one--in the +offin'. You didn't know it and neither did Adams, but the result is a +peach of a movie that'll make us a lot of money, if you'll let me +release it. All I need is a couple more close-ups and--" + +Miss Devine has been listenin' like she was in a trance. She turned +more colors than they is in the flag, and, lemme tell you, they all +become her! + +"You--you--made a picture out of our--out of--me?" she gasps. + +Whatever else Eddie Duke is, he's game. + +"Yeh!" he nods. "And wait till you see it--it's great! Why, you got +Pickford lookin' like a amateur, and Adams will be a riot with the +girls the minute this movie's released! I wanted to prove to you that +the movies ain't got a thing on real life, and I did! Why Adams can +sign a contract with me any time he wants. That's makin' good, ain't +it? From valet to movie star in five reels--and who put him over? +_You_!!!" + +Before Miss Devine can say anything, we hear voices behind us. We're +standin' by a high hedge that had been set up for a picture that +mornin', and it was Miss Devine that motioned us to keep quiet. The +voices on the other side are Adams and De Vronde. + +"I've done my share!" De Vronde is sayin'. "I've been sending home--" + +"Eighty dollars a month!" cuts in Adams, in that new, cold voice of +his. "Eighty dollars a month to your father and mother, and you're +making a thousand a week. Eighty dollars a month, and you pay a +hundred and fifty for a suit! It's hard for me to call you a brother +of mine! Do you know why I whipped that bum the other day? For what +he said about you? No! Because I didn't want it thought that the +whole family was as yellow as you are! But I'm going to make you game. +You're going to turn what money you've hoarded over to Dad." + +We're all lookin' at each other--dumb-founded! Even Duke is pale and +pop-eyed. + +"By the Eternal, Miss Devine," he whispers in her ear. "I swear I +didn't know _that_! It don't happen in real life, eh? _Brothers_--by +the dust of Methuselah!" + +De Vronde is speakin', and we bend to listen. + +"I can't!" he chokes out. "Why, I'll--" + +We hear Adams snort. + +"Stop!" he says. "You can make more money than I can and make Ma and +Dad comfortable for the rest of their days. I'm going--" + +"About that girl--that Miss Devine," De Vronde breaks in, his voice +shaking "It's only right that you should know. She's made an ass of +you--she and that Duke person! You've been followed about and +everything you've done has been recorded by a camera. She had no +accident the other day--her ankle wasn't hurt--the horse was sent back +with the empty saddle deliberately--they photographed that, too! They +had a silly bet of some sort and--" + +Miss Devine steps deliberately right around the side of the hedge +almost into Adams's arms. He's white and lookin' much like he did the +first day he blowed into Film City. The minute he sees her he +straightens up. + +"How long have you been here?" he clips out. + +"I've heard--everything!" she says, lookin' him right in the eye. + +Adams runs his hand through his hair, and pulls a look that went +through me to the bone. I don't know how it hit Miss Devine. + +"And all of this--this--your attitude toward me--the accident--was +played to make a picture?" he says. + +"Yes!" says Miss Devine. "All except _this_!" And I hope I never see +another movie, if both her arms didn't go around his neck--right out +loud in public, too! "All except _this_!" she repeats. "And, oh, +Jack--this is _real_!!" + +"I win a thousand bucks!" pants Duke, draggin' me away--De Vronde blew +the minute she appeared on the scene--"I win a thousand bucks!" he +says. "And the picture is gonna be a riot! If they was only a good +camera man here now for that close up at the finish, eh? Still--I +guess that would be too raw!" He looks back where Adams and Miss +Devine is posin' for a picture of still life. "And she said this love +stuff was the bunk!" he hollers. "Oh, boy!!!!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +HOSPITAL STUFF + +Every time I see a thermometer, a watch, and a egg my temperature +aviates to about a hundred and ninety-eight in the shade--and if they's +nobody lookin' I bust 'em! I spent two months and eight hundred bucks +with that layout once and, oh, lady!--Say! The next time I feel a +vacation comin' on, I'm goin' to Russia and holler, "Hooray for the +Czar!" + +I just been Red-Crossed to within a inch of my life and I'm off that +"take-two-once-every-twice, and don't-eat-any-this-or-drink-any-that" +stuff! The right cross and the double cross has been little pals of +mine for years, and I once got throwed out of school for pullin' that +"How to make a maltese cross" thing, but the _red_ one was all new to +me up to last month. + +They call me a glutton for punishment, but I got--enough! + +I can't go in a drug store no more, because the sight of the +prescription bar in the rear affects me like strong drink and I even +had to lay off peas, because they look like pills. + +All the food I got durin' the time I become a victim of the Red Cross +could have been carried over the Rocky Mountains by a lame ant, and I +got a hole in my wrist that can be used as a ash tray from doctors +grabbin' it to give my pulse early mornin' workouts and clockin' it +over the full course. I was allowed two kinds of milk to drink--hot +and cold. The only thing I could get to read was wrote to order on the +premises and was all on the same subject, "Shake well before using!" + +The whole thing was brought on by two words and Genaro, which was +puttin' on this five-reel barbecue called "How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title," and take it from me, if the Kid had pulled off in Manhattan +some of the stunts he did in that picture, he would have won more than +the welterweight title--he'd have won the oil business from Rockefeller +the first night! + +The two words was "Don't jump!" and Genaro _didn't_ say 'em--if he had, +the Kid would never have dove off a cliff and sprained his +million-dollar left arm, which triflin' detail caused _me_ to get my +mail at a hospital for two months. + +It was in the third reel of this picture, which I see by the billboards +is liable to thrill the nation, that the thing happened. The Kid is +supposed to jump off a cliff to fool the plotters which is tryin' to +stop him from winnin' the title. They had picked out two of them +cliffs--one of 'em was a drop of three feet and the other was a drop of +twenty-one miles, accordin' to Scanlan, who made it and ought to know. +Anyhow, it was far enough! They was gonna show a close-up of the high +one first and then take a flash of Scanlan leapin' from the little one. +The Kid walks to the edge of that high one, looks down and some +fat-head camera man points a machine at him and starts turnin' the +crank. Genaro was to wave his handkerchief as a signal for the Kid to +dive off the _little_ cliff and Scanlan, kinda puzzled, watches him. +Just as he's walkin' away from the edge, Genaro blows his nose! The +Kid sees the camera man and the handkerchief, and not wantin' to act +yellah before the bunch, he--jumps! + +A lot of excitement was had by all and Scanlan sprained his arm. + +"Ah!" yells Genaro. "She'sa make the greata scene! What you think +thisa Meester Scanlan he'sa joomp off wan mountain for art? That'sa +real arteeste! He'sa killa himself for maka picture for Genaro! Ah--I +embrace heem!" + +Miss Vincent begins by faintin'. Then she comes to, throws a rock at a +camera man which is takin' a close up of her unconscious, kneels at the +Kid's side and kisses him right out loud before everybody. She claims, +if he proves to be dead, she'll leave the company flat and have Genaro +tried for murder before a judge which had been tryin' for two years to +do somethin' for her. They finally carried the Kid up to the hotel, +and sent for a doctor which was recommended by Eddie Duke. Accordin' +to Eddie, this friend of his had the average doctor lookin' like a drug +clerk. Pluckin' people from the grave was his specialty, says Eddie. + +I guess they had to wait till this graverobber graduated from college, +because it was over a hour before he showed up. He gets out of a buggy +that was all the rage about the time Washington was thinkin' of goin' +in the army, and the animal that was draggin' it along had been a total +failure at tryin' to be a horse. The doc wasn't a day over +seventy-five and he was dressed in a hat that must have come with the +buggy, a pair of shoes like grandpa used to wear to work and a set of +white whiskers. If he had any clothes on, I didn't see 'em. All I +seen was them whiskers! I figured, if he had plucked people from the +grave, like Eddie Duke claimed, he must have did it after they was dead. + +He didn't look very encouragin' to me, but I led him upstairs and into +the room where Scanlan was just comin' to and askin' what round it was. +Eddie Duke and Miss Vincent was at his bedside, and the rest of the +gang was outside the door arguyin' over which was the best undertaker +in Frisco. I slipped away to a telephone booth and called up +information. + +"Gimme the best doctor in California!" I says, flickin' a jitney in the +slot. + +"For a nickel?" giggles the dame on the other end. + +"Stop it!" I says. "I got a man here that's liable to croak any +minute--this ain't no time for comedy! Ah--what time do you get off?" + +"I never go out with strangers," she says, "but you got a nice voice at +that. Where is your friend doin' his sufferin' at?" + +"Film City!" I tells her. "And my voice ain't got nothin' on yours. I +don't want to give you no short answer, but can I get the doctor now?" + +"I got him waitin'," she says. "If I was you, I wouldn't let 'em fill +your friend full of dope; fresh air and sunshine's got the druggist +beat eighty ways! Good-by, Cutey--gimme a ring after the funeral!" + +"This is the Hillcrest Sanitarium," pipes another voice over the wire, +very sedate and dignified. + +"And this is Johnny Green," I comes back, "manager of Kid Scanlan, the +welterweight champ. We've throwed you people a lot of trade. Only a +short while ago Scanlan flattened Young Hogan in two rounds, and Hogan +was took there from the ring, remember? Well, I want the boss doctor +there sent to Film City right away!" + +With that begins a argument that went about fifteen minutes, and which +I finally win by a shade. It seems it wasn't the regular thing for the +head doctor there to answer night bells and so forth, like a ordinary +medico, and the goin' was rather tough for awhile. Three or four +times, when I was ready to quit, this telephone dame, which was takin' +it all in with both ears, cut in with advice and helpful hints till the +guy on the other end had enough and says he'll come. + +The first thing that met my eye, when I got back to the Kid, was Eddie +Duke's friend, the greatest doctor in the world. He was walkin' very +fast away from the hotel and mutterin' to himself. I just had time to +grab his arm, as he jumps in the buggy and reaches for the whip. + +"Will he live, doc?" I asks him. + +"Bah!" he snorts, jerkin' away from me. "The ignorant little pup!" + +He whales Old Dobbin with the whip and leaves me flat. + +I couldn't figure out what the Kid's education had to do with his +health, so I beats it upstairs and all but fell over Eddie Duke. He's +holdin' one eye and mumblin' somethin' about "roughnecks" and +"ingratitude." I kept on through the crowd and into the Kid's room. +Scanlan is still on the bed groanin', and beside him is the hotel +clerk, thumbin' a almanac. + +"Wait!" pants the clerk, as I come in. "I'll have it in a second." He +turns over a lot more pages and then he hollers, "Ah! Here we +are--what did I tell you? 'First Aid to the Injured.'" He clears his +throat and the Kid looks up hopefully. "Number one," reads the clerk. +"_'First send for a physician!'_" He drops the book and dashes for the +door. "Don't do nothing till I get back!" he yells. + +Scanlan starts to go after him, but moans and falls back on the bed. + +"I wish I had a gun!" he snarls. "That big boob has been here fifteen +minutes tellin' me all he was gonna do for me as soon as he found it in +the book! He--" + +"Didn't the doctor do no good?" I butts in, sittin' on the side of the +bed. + +"Doctor?" says the Kid. "What doctor?" + +"Eddie Duke's friend," I tells him. "The old--" + +Scanlan leans up on his good arm. + +"Listen, Johnny!" he says. "I still got a wallop in my right! Don't +kid me now or--" + +"What d'ye mean kid you?" I asks him. "Didn't the doctor--" + +"Doctor!" he interrupts me, slammin' down the pillow. "If that guy was +a doctor, I'm Caruso! He comes in here where I'm practically dyin' and +tries to sell me a book!" + +"Gimme it all!" I gasps. + +"He sits down at the bed," explains the Kid, "and takes a big, black +book out of what I figured was his medicine chest. He holds it up and +asks me if I see it and I says I did, thinkin' I had passed the first +test easy. Then he says he wrote the book himself and it's full of +hope and cheer or dope and beer--to tell you the truth, I don't know +which it was on account of the pain. Anyhow, I let him get away with +it, and he tells me to think of how lucky I actually am alongside of +the Crown's Prince of Germany--and then he begins to read from that +book! It seems it's a novel about faith bein' stronger than pain. By +this time, I seen that he was either nutty or tryin' to kid me, so I +cut him off by askin' him when he's gonna fix up my arm. He says he's +doin' it now, and when he gets through, he'll leave the book which will +be a total of twenty-five bucks. When I come to, I ask him how long he +had been a doctor, and he gets sore and claims he's a healer of the +Mystic Sliders or somethin' like that, and what do I mean by callin' +him a doctor? Then I called him a few other things so's he wouldn't +have no kick comin' and gave him the bum's rush out of the room. Eddie +Duke starts to moan about me maulin' his friend, and--well, get him to +show you his eye!" + +The door opens suddenly and Miss Vincent sticks the curls which all the +shop girls is copyin' around the side of it. + +"It's the doctor!" she whispers. + +"Say!" pipes the Kid, grabbin' a pillow. "That old guy is game, eh?" + +"A fightin' fool!" I agrees. + +But this time a tall, solemn-lookin' guy breezes into the room and +stares at me and the Kid with the same warm friendliness that a +motorcycle cop regards a boob tryin' out a new auto. I figured he was +the bird I had ordered by 'phone, and hit 1000 on the guess. He leans +over the Kid, prods him around a bit, and then goes over him like he +had lost somethin' and thought maybe he'd find it there. Then he +straightens up and grunts. + +"Hmph!" he says. "This man is a nervous wreck! Completely run +down--needs rest and diet. I have my car outside and can take him over +to the sanitarium, if--are you a relative?" + +"His manager," I explains. "How about the arm, doc?" + +"Nothing!" he says. "Wrenched--that's all. Come--help him downstairs, +I'll wait." + +I took out a five-case note. + +"What do we owe you, doc?" I asks him, hopin' for the best. + +"My consultation fee is fifty dollars!" he says, without battin' an eye. + +I staggered back against the bureau. + +"Every time you see me it's gonna set me back fifty?" asks the Kid, +with tears in his voice. + +The doc gives him a cold nod. + +"Couldn't I take some treatment by mail?" pipes Scanlan, hopefully. + +"Cease!" I says, takin' out the old checkbook. "What's your name, doc?" + +"James," he says, "J. T. James." + +"What's the J stand for?" I asks, shakin' out the pen. + +"Jesse!" butts in Scanlan. "Heh, doc?" + +"Do you mean to insinuate that I'm robbing you?" says the doc, frownin' +at him. + +"No," says the Kid, takin' the check from me and handin' it to him, "I +don't blame a guy for tryin', but--" + +I shut him off and dragged him downstairs before they was any hard +feelin's. We climbed in the doctor's bus and at the Kid's request, +Miss Vincent come along with us. Then we went after the road record +between Film City and the Hillcrest Sanitarium. I guess this doctor +was born with a steerin' wheel in his hand, because we took some +corners on that trip that would have worried a snake, and when he threw +her in high, we breezed along so swift we could have made a bullet +quit. Finally, we come to a great big buildin' all hedged off with an +iron fence and if you've ever seen a souvenir post card with "Havin' a +fine time. Wish you were here," on it, you know what it looked like. + +The doctor tells me and Miss Vincent to wait in the office, and he goes +out with the Kid. In about fifteen minutes he's back and calls me over +to a desk. They's a long piece of paper there and he says to sit down +and fill it out, but, after one flash at it, I asked him could I take +it home to work over, because my fountain pen was better on sprints +than long distance writin' and this looked like a good two-hour job. +He gives me another one of them North Pole stares and remarks that if +the thing ain't filled out at once, the Kid won't be admitted to the +sanitarium. + +"He's in now, ain't he?" I comes back. + +"Yes!" he snaps. "And he'll be out, if that paper isn't drawn up +instantly!" + +Miss Vincent giggles and hisses in my ear. + +"They say the child is in London!" she pipes. "Sign that paper, curse +you! We are in his power!" + +Well, I seen I had to do a piece of writing so I grabbed up that paper +and let the fountain pen go crazy. I give the Kid's entire name, where +he was born, what his people did to fool the almshouse, what was his +mother's maiden name and why, whether he went to church or Billy +Sunday, was he white and could he prove it, who started the war and a +lot of bunk like that. The guy who doped out the entrance examinations +for that hospital must have been figurin' on how many he could keep +_out_. When I run out of ink, I took out a copy of the _Sportin' +Annual_, tore off the Kid's record and pasted it at the bottom of the +page. + +"How's that?" I asks, passin' it over. + +"Very well," he says, glancin' at it. "Mister Scanlan is in room 45. +That will be one-fifty--a hundred and fifty!" + +"The price," I says, gettin' dizzy. "Not your weight!" + +"That's the price," he tells me. "A hundred and fifty a week." + +"I'm afraid the old bankroll is _too_ weak," I says,--"too weak for +that, anyhow. Drag the Kid out of that bridal suite and let him sleep +in the hall. I'll--" + +"Why, the idea!" butts in Miss Vincent. "You let him stay where he is, +doctor. The money will be paid." + +Before I could say anything, the door opens and in comes the dame that +poses for all the magazine covers, dressed like a nurse. I never was +much on describin'--I probably wouldn't have got ten people to watch +the battle of Gettysburg if I'd have been the press agent--but this was +the kind of dame that all the wealthy patients fall in love with in the +movies--yeh, and out of 'em! The little white cap on top of her head +looked like a dash of whipped cream on a peach sundae, and if you +wouldn't have blowed up the city hall for the smile she sent around the +room, I feel sorry for you. She crosses over and, in passin' me, she +begs my pardon and threw that smile into high. + +A hundred and fifty a week, eh? Well--I dives in my inside pocket. + +"May I have your check, Mister--eh--ah--" pipes the doc. + +"Green," I helps him out, "Johnny Green. Can you have a _check_? You +said it!" I sits down and writes one out. + +"Why this is for three hundred dollars!" he busts out, lookin' at it. + +"Even so, brother," I grins, stealin' a slant at the Venus de +California. "That's for me and the Kid. Gimme a room next to his +and--" + +"Do you think this is a hotel?" he frowns at me. + +"I should care!" I tells him. "Let me in--that's all _I_ want!" + +With that the nurse remarks that the Kid is ready to see us, so me and +Miss Vincent folleys her down the hall and she opens a door and calls +in, + +"Visitors, Mister Scanlan!" + +"Yeh?" pipes the Kid in a show-em-the exit voice. "Ah--can I have a +drink of--ah--water?" + +"Certainly," she says. "I'll bring it now." + +"Don't rush it!" says the Kid. "It might curdle! Wait till the +attendance falls off a bit!" + +She laughs--and Miss Vincent didn't. + +"Oho!" whispers the pet of the movies. "Like that, eh?" + +We go in the room, and there's Scanlan layin' in the whitest bed I even +seen in my life and lookin' about as miserable as a millionaire's +nephew on the day his uncle dies. There's about three hundred pillows +under his head and neck, his arm is all bandaged up and beside the bed +is a table with a set of flowers on it. + +And then there was that nurse! + +"Pretty soft!" I says. + +The Kid grins and then twists around to Miss Vincent and groans. + +"Does it hurt much, you poor dear?" she says. + +"I wonder how I stand it!" pipes the Kid, keepin' his face from me. + +"Can I get you anything?" she asks him after a minute. + +"Well," answers the Kid, "if I did want something we could send Johnny +for it." He looks at me meanin'ly. "Go out and git the right time!" +he tells me. "And while you're at it--take lots of it!" + +I went outside and closed the door. I remembered bein' in a hospital +once, where they was examinin' guys for nerves, and one of the tests +was hittin' 'em in the knee with a book and watchin' if their legs flew +out. I don't remember the name of the book, but I figured on takin' a +chance. I breezed out to the desk in the hall and filled out one of +them entry blanks about myself, and then I dug up the doctor. + +"Doc," I says, "I wish you'd gimme the East and West, there's somethin' +the matter with my nerve. I know you can fix me up, if anybody can, +because you got so much yourself." + +"Just what is the East and West?" he asks me. + +"Why, look me over!" I explains. "I wanna see what I need or should +get rid of." + +He leads me in a little room to one side, and goes over me like a +lawyer lookin' for a clause in a contract he can bust. He looks at my +tongue till it begin to quiver from exposure to the air; he clocks my +pulse at a mile, two miles and over the jumps; he stuck a telephone +like you see in the foreign movies over my heart and listened in on the +internal gossip for twenty minutes; he walloped me on the chest with +the best he had and made me sing a song called +"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!" Then he shakes his head and tells me to put +on my coat. + +"You're one of the healthiest specimens I ever examined!" he says. +"There's absolutely nothing the matter with you." + +"Well, that's certainly tough, doc," I tells him, "because I sure want +to win one of them rooms like Scanlan has. I--wait a minute!" I +hollers, gettin' a flash. "You didn't gimme the book test!" + +I hops over to the desk and grabs up a book off it. It was a big thick +one called "Paralysis to Pneumonia," and was written by a couple of +Greeks named "Symptoms and Therapeutics." I never heard of the thing +before, and I wished it had been "Uncle Tom's Cabin" or somethin' like +that, but I took a chance. + +"Here!" I says. "I don't know if this is the right one or not, but +let's try it out on my knee, eh?" + +I seen he didn't make me, so I explains about the nerve test I seen +where some of the guys throwed out their legs when hit, and some of 'em +didn't. He gimme the laugh then, and tells me to look out of the +window. I did and they's a terrible crash in back of me, but I kept +lookin' out like he told me. Then he says all right, I can turn +around, and, when I did, I see the book case has fell over on the +floor. He claims if I had been nervous, I would have jumped eighty +feet when it crashed down and as they is nothin' the matter with me, I +might as well be on my way. Well, I was up against it--but only for a +minute. That last crack of his gimme an idea. I makes a leap across +the floor, grabs my heart and starts to shake and shiver like a bum in +one of them "Curse of Drink" productions. + +"What's the matter?" he calls out. + +I looks wildly around the room, and I seen a fly upside down on the +window-sill tryin' to get to its feet. + +"Oh!" I says. "I'm so nervous, doc, I'm shakin' like a crap-shooter. +D'ye see that fly? Well, it must have fell off the window just +then--it gimme an awful shock--y'know that sudden noise and--" + +He throws up his hands. + +"Come!" he tells me. "I'll assign you to a room." + +That's how I come to get mixed up with the Red Cross. + +Pretty soon they had the Kid's arm better than it ever was, but as they +was still workin' on his nerves, we stuck around at the sanitarium. +We're both on a diet, which meant that at each meal-time we was fed +about enough food to nourish a healthy infant about a half hour old. +The general idea of the stuff was along nursery lines, too--milk, eggs +and baby fodder, three times a day. I was O.K. when I went in there, +but in a couple of weeks I was the prize patient on account of them +meals. They tell me I raved one night and bellered for a rattle, and +Scanlan made the nurse tell him all about Jack the Giant Killer and Old +Mother Hubbard. The place must have been run by a guy who believed in +lettin' the dumb animals live, because you couldn't have got a piece of +meat in there, if you begged 'em for it till you was black in the face. +You could have milk and eggs or eggs and milk--that was the limit! + +One mornin' the orderly forgets himself and asks me what I want for +breakfast. I thought they had let down the bars at last, and I all but +jumped out of the bed. + +"Gimme a steak, French fried potatoes, coffee and hot rolls," I says. +"Have the potatoes well done and the steak rare." + +"Rave on," he answers me. "Do you want the eggs boiled, fried or +scrambled? Ain't there no particular way you like 'em?" + +"Not no more!" I groans, and falls back on the sheets. + +The only bright spot in the whole thing was Miss Woods, the nurse that +caused me to enter the place. She used to come in every mornin' and +make me play a thermometer was a lollypop and I held the thing in my +mouth while she took my temperature and pulled a clock on my pulse. +Then the orderly would come in and take the fruit friends had left for +me, and I'd be all set for the day. When I kicked about the food, Miss +Woods claimed I ought to be tickled to get eggs to eat, because they +was very expensive on account of the late war. I says I didn't know +they had been fightin' with eggs in Europe, and she laughs and says I'm +delicious. She brought me in a book to read and on the cover it's all +about the nights of Columbus. I didn't even open the thing, because +what kind of nights could Columbus have had--they was nothin' doin' in +them days. She asks me what my occupation was and says maybe she could +arrange so's I could work at it while I was there to keep my mind off +things. I says I _dared_ anything to keep my mind off of her, and she +kinda frowns; so's to brighten things up I says before I come there I +had been a deck steward on a submarine, and it gets a laugh. Then she +says I looked like a bookkeeper, and I didn't know whether that was a +boost or a knock, so I passed it off by sayin' I had a chance to be +that when young, but had to give it up because I couldn't stand the +smell of ink. + +After we have kidded like that for a while, I admits bein' Kid +Scanlan's manager, and with that she suddenly runs to the door and +closes it tight. She comes back on tip-toes, leans over the bed +lookin' at me for a minute and then she asks me very soft would I do +somethin' for her. I had got as far as offerin' to dive off the Singer +Buildin' into a bucket of water, when she cuts me off and tells me to +listen to her as they wasn't much time. + +She asked me had I ever noticed a big, husky, black-haired guy out in +the exercise yard. I said I had. I remembered a big whale of a man, +with the face of a frightened kid, walkin' up and down, up and down, +all day long. Every now and then he'd stop and pick up a pebble or a +handful of dirt and take it to one side where he'd examine it for half +an hour. Then he'd throw it away and start that sentry thing again. + +Well, she said, this bird had been down to South America where he had +discovered some kind of a mineral that had made him very rich and some +kind of a fever that had made him very sick. He was at the sanitarium +so's the doctors could keep a eye on him, the bettin' bein' about seven +to five that he would go nutty, if some excavatin' wasn't done +immediately on his dome. A operation will save him, but his parents +won't think of it, and there you are. When she stopped, I told her +that whilst I never had performed no operations before, beyond once +when I pulled a loose tooth of Scanlan's between the second and third +round of a fight, I would get somebody to sneak me in some tools and +get to work on the big guy the first chance I got. She give a little +squeal and says that wasn't what she wanted me to do, gettin' pale and +prettier every minute. I seen I pulled a bone, so I asks her to come +right out with it and whatever she said I'd do it or break a leg. + +"Then when Mr. Scanlan takes his exercise every day with the boxing +gloves and punching bag," she says, "get him to persuade Arthur to join +him. Arthur would do it for him quicker than he would for me or any of +the doctors. He thinks we are all in league against him and he admires +Mr. Scanlan--I've read it in his face as he watches him out in the +yard. Arthur himself was a noted athlete before he went to South +America. He might even box with Mr. Scanlan. That would lessen the +tension on his mind and we might get him to see that an operation +is--Oh! Will you do it?" she breaks off suddenly, grabbin' my hand. + +"Will I?" I says, holdin' on to that hand. "If Scanlan don't box him, +I'll take him on myself!" + +"Oh, thank you--thank you!" she whispers, "I--" + +"That's all right!" I cuts her off. "Is--ah--is the big fellow any +relation to you?" + +She blushed. Yeh--and I looked at her, forgettin' a lot of things +about both of us that didn't quite match--and wished! I got everything +I had together for one good try, bein' handicapped by the fact that I +still had her hand and that room was goin' around like a top. And +then, poor boob--I looked down at the hand I didn't have, wonderin' why +she didn't answer me--and saw the answer on one finger. The darned +cold, glitterin' thing seemed to sneer at me. I felt like I'd stopped +one with my chin, and somethin' went outa me that ain't back yet. +What? Well, a guy can hope, can't he? + +Say! That ring must have cost five hundred bucks--it was a pip! + +I grabbed a drink of that darned milk to steady myself, and I seen from +the way she looked at me that she got me. + +"I see!" I says, lettin' go of the hand that belonged to friend Arthur. +"He--and he went to South America, eh?" + +"Listen!" she whispers, bendin' over. "You know now what this means to +me. If you'll help me, I'll do anything for you! Why--" + +I sat up in bed and grabbed her hand again. + +"Anything?" I asks her. + +She looks out the window, gets pale and grits her teeth. You could see +she wished she hadn't said it, but she was game and was standin' pat. + +"Anything!" she says. + +"Then for the love of heaven!" I shoots out, "get me a piece of meat! +This egg and milk thing is drivin' me nutty!" + +She wheeled around so quick the scared look was still on her face, and +for a minute we both just looked. Then she give a kinda nervous little +laugh, grabbed both my hands, squeezed 'em like a man--and blew! + +Oh, boy! I ain't no hard loser but-- + +Well, it wasn't no trick at all to get big Arthur to box with the Kid. +He took to it like a chorus girl does to a telephone and what puzzled +me was why none of them fifty dollar doctors hadn't thought of it +before. I guess it was because they was nobody there husky enough to +handle him by themselves, because Arthur packed a wallop in each hand +that meant curtains, if it landed. Behind that was six-foot-two of +bone and about two hundred and forty pounds of muscle. + +The Kid labored with him like a mother with a baby. He taught him how +to duck, feint, jab, uppercut, swing, stall, rough in the clinches, +everything he knew, and Arthur learned awful quick. So quick that we +had to cut the bouts down to twenty minutes each, because the big guy +didn't _know_ and he was _tryin'_ with every punch! + +The doctors told Scanlan to talk operation to him, and the Kid tried it +once. Arthur stopped boxin' and looked at him so reproachful that +Scanlan refused to mention it again. He said he looked just like a kid +that come down Christmas mornin' and found no tree. + +Finally, me and the Kid packed up and kissed the sanitarium good-by, +but every afternoon at three we went over and Scanlan put on the gloves +with Arthur for a while, because I had give my word to his girl. +Arthur got so he lived all the rest of the day and night lookin' +forward to three o'clock in the afternoon. He snarled at the doctors, +cuffed the orderlies, didn't know Miss Woods from the iron gate that +kept him in there, but the minute Scanlan breezed into the yard with +the gloves his face would be one big smile. + +This went on for three months--and then Miss Vincent stepped into the +thing. + +She wanted to know where the Kid was goin' every afternoon at three +o'clock, and like a simp, I told her the whole story. She thanks me +with a odd look that I didn't get till that night, when the Kid comes +tearin' in to our room at the hotel and slams the door. When he gets +where he can make his tongue do like he asks it, he says it's all off +between him and Miss Vincent. By usin' some judgment and four hours of +time I find out that Miss Vincent thinks this stuff about the Kid +boxin' Arthur is a lot of bunk and the Kid was really goin' back to the +sanitarium every day to see Miss Woods. She has give that nurse the +once over and then used some woman's arithmetic which makes two and two +equal nine, get me? Well, one word led to another, and finally she +tells him if he don't cut the sanitarium out, she's off him for life. + +That's a bad way to handle Scanlan. He's Irish and--you know! + +He told her we give our word and he was gonna box Arthur till they +remodeled Arthur's skull, no matter what happened. Then Miss Vincent +gets sensible and weeps. In a minute the Kid is on his knees, and she +shows more sense than usual by chasin' him at that point. At the +bottom of the stairs, Scanlan calls up and asks if he can kiss her good +night. She tells him it's too late now, he has missed the +psychological moment. + +That last was what had the Kid up in the air. He didn't know what it +meant, except that it was a cinch she wasn't wishin' him good luck. +That psychological thing was past me, too. I looked it up in the +dictionary, and it was there all right, but it could have been in +Russia as far as I was concerned, because the way it described it was +over my head. The Kid finally puts it right up to Miss Vincent, and +she tells him to find out for himself. + +"Go over to that trick sanitarium of yours, and ask Miss Woods," she +tells him scornfully. "Maybe _she_ can tell you what it means!" + +But at two o'clock, when the Kid is leavin' for his daily maulin' bee +with big Arthur, she comes along in her racin' car and asks him to go +to Los Angeles with her. The Kid stalls and says he's just about got +time to get over and give the South American entry a workout, although +he'd rather take the ride with her than defend his title against a +one-armed blind man. She frowns for a minute, and then she smiles and +says hop in with her and she'll drive him over to the sanitarium. + +When they blowed in that night at seven o'clock, I seen the Kid looks +kinda worried, while he's washin' the Golden West off his face and +neck, so I ask him how Arthur is comin' along. Scanlan coughs a couple +of times and then he says he don't know, because he wasn't able to get +over there that afternoon--the first he'd missed since I promised the +world's champion girl I'd assist her. While I'm still bawlin' him out, +he claims it wasn't his fault, because the car broke down in the middle +of California and they had to get towed back. + +I _will_ say I was sorry to find out that Miss Vincent wasn't above a +little rough stuff! Oh, you ladies! + +The next day Genaro suddenly decides to take a scene in the Kid's +movie, and as we was under contract we had to stay. The third +afternoon, Miss Vincent gets a terrible headache and the Kid has to sit +on the hotel porch with her, readin' out loud her press notices from +the movie magazines. + +I kept out of it, but thinkin' about Arthur and that little nurse over +there had me bitin' nails, and the next day I told the Kid if he didn't +go out and trade wallops with Arthur, I was through as his pilot. I +said that right out loud in front of Miss Vincent, lookin' her right in +them famous baby-blue eyes of hers. But you can't figure women--she +crossed me and tells the Kid to go and she'd go with him! + +We went out in her racin' car, with me ridin' on the runnin' board and +thinkin' what a fine thing accident insurance was for a guy of moderate +means. By dumb luck we missed crashin' into the scenery along the road +and stopped outside the iron gates of the sanitarium. We had hardly +got in the office, when from down the hall we heard what sounded like a +race riot, and a couple of orderlies goes past us so fast that I didn't +believe it could be done, although I seen 'em. The Kid runs down to +where the noise was comin' from and I tagged along in the rear, +stoppin' with him outside a big two-doored room, where from the sounds +that crashed out from inside they was puttin' on a dress rehearsal of a +race riot. + +While we stood there lookin' at each other, a familiar deep snarlin' +voice roars out over the others--they was a scream, too, that made me +neck and neck with the Kid as we busted in the locked doors and went +sprawlin' inside. + +Oh, boy! + +A half dozen nurses and two or three doctors is lined up against the +wall on the far side, crouchin' back of an operatic table and tryin' to +force their bodies through the hard cement. The place looks like a +cyclone had hit it, with the walls scraped and scarred and the floor +covered with plaster and what not like the show-room of a junk shop. +Half on the floor and half on a chair is Miss Woods. I hoped she had +only fainted. + +In the middle of the room and backin' against the doors is a big, +growlin', red-eyed killer that used to be Arthur. + +Most of his clothes is torn off where some of them poor little human +bein's had tried to hold him, and over his head he's swingin' a iron +pole he'd torn from the fancy front gate outside. Each time he swings, +he comes nearer that bunch with nothin' between them and Heaven but a +white enameled table. He didn't seem to notice Scanlan, who slid +almost to his feet, and rightin' himself like a cat, stepped back to +size the thing up. Then with a growl, Arthur chops at the operatin' +table with the pole and crumbles it like a berry box. The women +screamed--I think one of 'em fainted. The doctors spread in front of +them, as Arthur raised the pole to finish the job. + +And then Scanlan, poppin' up from somewheres, jumps in front of Arthur, +his face the color of that busted table, but his body as steady as the +Rockies, as he plants himself there before the big guy, swingin' his +head back easily before that tremblin' iron pole. The Kid throws his +hands up in a fightin' position and dances from one foot to the other +lookin' for a openin', like a guy with a pail of water tryin' to put +out hell! Arthur hesitates, starin' wildly at the Kid, and then his +face begins to change till it's almost human. He looks like he's +tryin' to think. + +"Come on!" bawls Scanlan--loud, to keep the crack out of his voice. +"Come on!" He dances around Arthur and makes a pass at him. "I got +some new ones to show you to-day!" he yells. "Hurry up, or +we--won't--have--time--to--mix it!" + +I remember the head doc told me afterwards it was because the big +feller had been doin' that every day--boxin' with the Kid--for so long +that it-- + +But what's that matter now? Arthur dropped that iron pole, put up his +hands, grins like a baby and rocks the Kid with a straight left, while +them nurses and doctors tumbled out of the room thankin' their +different gods. Somebody carried out Miss Woods, too. + +I guess Scanlan never battled before like he did in the next ten +minutes, because he was fightin' for the biggest purse he ever climbed +in a ring for--his life! The big guy smashed him all over the place +tryin' for a knockout like the Kid had taught him, crushin' his ribs in +the clinches till Scanlan's breathin' cut me to the heart and rainin' +wallops on him like a machine gun. Me? Oh, I didn't do much but root +for the Kid. Y'see I was beside that operatic table when Arthur lammed +it with the pole--some of it kinda glanced off and I stopped it with my +head. A game little bantam of a doctor hopped around 'em, as they +slewed over the floor, lookin' like a referee--but he was simply tryin' +to slip friend Arthur a hypodermic while Scanlan kept him busy. + +Finally, the Kid staggers Arthur with a lucky right smash to the chin, +and then a half a dozen left and rights to the body cut his size down +to where the Kid could put all he had left in one swing--and it's all +over. The little doc with the hypo gets busy, and, when we left the +room, Arthur was headed for the operatin' pen--his trip havin' been +interrupted by the slight excitement Scanlan had stopped! + +Well, me and the Kid was hustled upstairs to be fussed over, windin' +up, you might say, where we started, in the hospital. After a time +Miss Woods comes up and thanks us--at least she made a stab at it and +weeps. The operation had been a success, and when Arthur could walk he +was gonna reward Miss Woods for her lovin' care by marryin' her, and +she looked like she thought that was enough--ain't women a scream? + +We was talkin' to the doctor, when Miss Vincent come in--stands in the +doorway for a minute lookin' like a swell picture in a punk frame, and +comes to the Kid with a yours-for-keeps look in her eyes. Scanlan +throws up his head like he's just thought of somethin'. + +"Say!" he pipes through the bandages. "I know what that psychological +moment thing is now--the doc has just been tellin' me. It seems," he +says with a grin. "It seems I pulled one off here this afternoon!" + + + + +THE END + + + + +CHARLES ALDEN SELTZER'S WESTERN NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list. + + +THE WAY OF THE BUFFALO + +Jim Cameron builds a railroad adjacent to Ballantine's property, even +though Ballantine threatens to kill him the day he runs it. + +BRASS COMMANDMENTS + +Stephen Lannon writes six commandments over six loaded cartridges set +out where the evil men who threaten him and the girl he loves, may see +them. + +WEST! + +When Josephine Hamilton went West to visit Betty, she met "Satan" +Lattimer, ruthless, handsome, fascinating, who taught her some things. + +SQUARE DEAL SANDERSON + +Square Deal Sanderson rode onto the Double A just as an innocent man +was about to be hanged and Mary Bransford was in danger of losing her +property. + +"BEAU" RAND + +Bristling with quick, decisive action, and absorbing in its love theme, +"Beau" Rand, mirrors the West of the hold-up days in remarkable fashion. + +THE BOSS OF THE LAZY Y + +Calumet Marston, daredevil, returns to his father's ranch to find it is +being run by a young woman who remains in charge until he accepts +sundry conditions. + +"DRAG" HARLAN + +Harlan establishes himself as the protector of Barbara Morgan and deals +out punishment to the girl's enemies through the lightning flash of +drawn guns. + +THE TRAIL HORDE + +How Kane Lawler fought the powerful interests that were trying to crush +him and Ruth Hamlin, the woman he loved, makes intensely interesting +reading. + +THE RANCHMAN + +The story of a two-fisted product of the west, pitted against a +rascally spoilsman, who sought to get control of Marion Harlan and her +ranch. + +"FIREBRAND" TREVISON + +The encroachment of the railroad brought Rosalind Benham--and also +results in a clash between Corrigan and "Firebrand" that ends when the +better man wins. + +THE RANGE BOSS + +Ruth Harkness comes West to the ranch her uncle left her. Rex +Randerson, her range boss, rescues her from a mired buckboard, and is +in love with her from that moment on. + +THE VENGEANCE OF JEFFERSON GAWNE + +A story of the Southwest that tells how the law came to a cow-town, +dominated by a cattle thief. There is a wonderful girl too, who wins +the love of Jefferson Gawne. + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Kid Scanlan, by H. C. Witwer + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KID SCANLAN *** + +***** This file should be named 29764-8.txt or 29764-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/7/6/29764/ + +Produced by Al Haines + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/29764-8.zip b/29764-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1a25162 --- /dev/null +++ b/29764-8.zip diff --git a/29764-h.zip b/29764-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c81e9da --- /dev/null +++ b/29764-h.zip diff --git a/29764-h/29764-h.htm b/29764-h/29764-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7facdf9 --- /dev/null +++ b/29764-h/29764-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11091 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Kid Scanlan, by H. C. Witwer +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kid Scanlan, by H. C. Witwer + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Kid Scanlan + +Author: H. C. Witwer + +Release Date: August 22, 2009 [EBook #29764] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KID SCANLAN *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +KID SCANLAN +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +H. C. WITWER +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +AUTHOR OF +<BR> +THE LEATHER PUSHERS, FIGHTING BLOOD, ETC. +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +GROSSET & DUNLAP +<BR> +PUBLISHERS +<BR> +NEW YORK +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H5 ALIGN="center"> +Copyright, 1920, +<BR> +BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY +<BR> +(INCORPORATED) +</H5> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DEDICATED TO +<BR> +ALLAN HENRY WITWER +<BR><BR> +MY SIX-YEAR-OLD DESCENDANT<BR> +WHO WEEPS BITTERLY WHEN<BR> +I READ MY YARNS ALOUD<BR> +TO HIS PATIENT<BR> +MOTHER<BR> +<BR> +<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 20%">H. C. W.</SPAN> +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">CHAPTER</TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> </TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">LAY OFF MACDUFF</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">EAST LYNCH</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">PLEASURE ISLAND</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">LEND ME YOUR EARS</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">V. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap05">"EXIT, LAUGHING"</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VI. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap06">THE UNHAPPY MEDIUM</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap07">LIFE IS REEL!</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">VIII. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap08">HOSPITAL STUFF</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +KID SCANLAN +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +LAY OFF, MACDUFF! +</H4> + +<P> +Brains is great things to have, and many's the time I've wished I had a +set of 'em in <I>my</I> head instead of just plain bone! Still they's a lot +of guys which has gone through life like a yegg goes through a safe, +and taken everything out of it that wasn't nailed, with nothin' in +their head but hair! +</P> + +<P> +A college professor gets five thousand a year, a good lightweight will +grab that much a fight. A school teacher drags down fifteen a week, +and the guy that looks after the boilers in the school buildin' gets +thirty! +</P> + +<P> +Sweet cookie! +</P> + +<P> +So don't get discouraged if the pride of the family gets throwed out of +school because he thinks twice two is eighteen and geography is played +with nets. The chances is very bright that young Stupid will be +holdin' the steerin' wheel of his own Easy Eight when the other guys, +which won all the trick medals for ground and lofty learnin', will be +wonderin' why a good bookkeeper never gets more than twenty-five a +week. And then, if he feels he's <I>got</I> to have brains around him, now +that he's grabbed the other half of the team—money—he can go downtown +and buy all the brains he wants for eighteen dollars a week! +</P> + +<P> +So if you're as shy on brains as a bald-headed man is of dandruff, and +what's more, you <I>know</I> it, cheer up! Because you can bet the gas-bill +money that you got somethin' just as good. Some trick concealed about +you that'll keep you out of the bread line. The thing to do is to take +an inventory of yourself and find it! +</P> + +<P> +Look good—it's there somewheres! +</P> + +<P> +Kid Scanlan's was hangin' from his left shoulder, and it made him +enough dimes in five years to step out of the crowd and watch the +others scramble from the sidelines. It was just an ordinary arm, size +36, model A, lot 768, same as we all have—but inside of it the Kid had +a wallop that would make a six-inch shell look like a lover's caress! +</P> + +<P> +Inside of his head the Kid had nothin'! +</P> + +<P> +Scanlan went through the welterweight division about like the Marines +went through Belleau Wood, and, finally, the only thing that stood +between him and the title was a guy called One-Punch Ross—the +champion. They agreed to fight until nature stopped the quarrel, at +Goldfield, Nev. They's two things I'll never forget as long as I pay +the premiums on my insurance policy, and they are the first and second +rounds of that fight. That's as far as the thing went, just two short +frames, but more real scrappin' was had in them few minutes than Europe +will see if Ireland busts loose! Except that they was more principals, +the battle of the Marne would have looked like a chorus men's frolic +alongside of the Ross-Scanlan mêlée. They went at each other like +peeved wildcats and the bell at the end of the first round only seemed +to annoy 'em—they had to be jimmied apart. Ross opened the second +round by knockin' Scanlan through the ropes into the ten-dollar boxes, +but the Kid was back and in there tryin' again before the referee could +find the body to start a count. After beatin' the champ from pillar to +post and hittin' him with everything but the bucket, the Kid rocks him +to sleep with a left swing to the jaw, just before the gong. +</P> + +<P> +The crowd went crazy. I went in the hole for five thousand bucks and +the Kid went in the movies! +</P> + +<P> +I had been handlin' Ross before that battle, but after it I wouldn't +have buried him! This guy was a ex-champion then, and I don't want no +ex-nothin' around <I>me</I>—unless it's a bill. +</P> + +<P> +Right after that scrap, Scanlan sent for me and made me a proposition +to look after his affairs for the followin' three years, and the only +time I lost in acceptin' it was caused by the ink runnin' out of my +fountain pen when I was signin' the contract. In them days I had a rep +for bein' able to get the money for my athletes that would make Shylock +look like a free spender. Every time one of <I>my</I> boys performed for +the edification of the mob, we got a elegant deposit before we put a +pen to the articles and we got the balance of the dough before we +pulled on a glove. I never left nothin' to chance or the other guy. +That's what beat Napoleon and all them birds! Of course, they was +several people here and there throughout the country which was more +popular than I was on that account, but which would <I>you</I> rather, have, +three cheers or three bucks? +</P> + +<P> +Well, that's the way <I>I</I> figured! +</P> + +<P> +About a month after Scanlan become my only visible means of support, I +signed him up for ten rounds with a bird which said, "What d'ye want, +hey?" when you called him Hurricane Harris, and the next day a guy +comes in to see me in the little trick office I had staked myself to on +Broadway. When he rapped on the door I got up on a chair and took a +flash at him over the transom and seein' he looked like ready money, I +let him come in. He claims his name is Edward R. Potts and that so far +he's president of the Maudlin Moving Picture Company. +</P> + +<P> +"I am here," he says, "to offer you a chance to make twenty thousand +dollars. Do you want it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who <I>give</I> you the horse?" I asks him, playin' safe. "I got to know +where this tip come from!" +</P> + +<P> +"Horse?" he mutters, lookin' surprised. "I know nothing of horses!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I tells him, "I ain't exactly a liveryman myself, but before I +put any of Kid Scanlan's hard-earned money on one of them equines, I +got to know more about the race than you've spilled so far! What did +the trainer say?" +</P> + +<P> +He was a fat, middle-aged hick that would soon be old, and he wears +half a pair of glasses over one eye. He aims the thing at me and +smiles. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're talking about!" he says. +"But I fancy it's a pun of some sort! Very well, then, what <I>did</I> the +trainer say?" +</P> + +<P> +I walked over and laid my arm on his shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you endeavorin' to spoof me?" I asks him sternly. "Or have you +got me confused with Abe Levy, the vaudeville agent? Either way you're +losin' time! I don't care for your stuff myself, and if that's your +act, I wouldn't give you a week-end at a movie house!" +</P> + +<P> +He takes off the trick eye-glass and begins to clean it with a +handkerchief. +</P> + +<P> +"My dear fellow!" he says. "It is plain that you do not understand the +nature of my proposal. I wish to engage the services of Kid Scanlan, +the present incumbent of the welterweight title. We want to make a +five-reel feature, based on his rise to the championship. I am +prepared to offer you first class transportation to our mammoth studios +at Film City, Cal.; and twenty thousand dollars when the picture is +completed! What do you say?" +</P> + +<P> +"Have a cigar!" I says, when I get my breath. I throwed a handful of +'em in his lap and give the water cooler a play. +</P> + +<P> +"No, thanks!" he says, layin' 'em on the desk. "I never smoke." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I tells him, "I ain't got a thing to drink in the place, you +gotta be careful here, y'know! But to get back to the movie thing, +what does the Kid have to do for the twenty thousand fish?" +</P> + +<P> +He takes a long piece of paper from his pocket and lays it down in +front of me. It looked like a chattel mortgage on Mexico, and what +paragraphs didn't commence with "to wit," started off with "do hereby." +</P> + +<P> +"All that Mr. Scanlan has to do," he explains, "will be told him by our +director at the studios, who will produce the picture. His name is Mr. +Salvatore Genaro. Kindly sign where the cross is marked!" +</P> + +<P> +"Wait!" I says. "We can't take a railroad ride like that for twenty +thousand, we got to have twenty-five and—" +</P> + +<P> +"All right!" he butts in. "Sign only on the first line!" +</P> + +<P> +"Thirty thousand, I meant to say!" I tells him, "because—" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly," he cuts me off, handin' over his fountain pen. "Don't use +initials, sign your full name!" +</P> + +<P> +I signed it. +</P> + +<P> +"How do I know we get this money?" I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha!" he answers. "How do we know that the dawn will come? My +company is worth a million dollars, old chap, and that contract you +have is as good as the money! Be at my office at two this afternoon +and I will give you the tickets. <I>Adios</I> until then!" +</P> + +<P> +And he blows out of the office. +</P> + +<P> +I closed down the desk, went outside and climbed into my Foolish Four. +In an hour I was up to the trainin' camp near Rye where Kid Scanlan was +preparin' for his collision with Hurricane Harris. Scanlan is trainin' +for the quarrel by playin' seven up with the room clerk from the Beach +Hotel, and when I bust in the door he takes a look, throws the cards on +the floor and makes a pass at his little pal so's I'll think he's a new +sparrin' partner. I pulled him off and dragged him to one side. +</P> + +<P> +"How would you like to go in the movies?" I says. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothin' doin'!" the Kid tells me. "They make my eyes sore!" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't mean watch 'em!" I explains. "I mean act in 'em! We're goin' +out to the well known Coast this afternoon and you're gonna be a movie +hero for five reels and thirty thousand bucks!" +</P> + +<P> +"We don't fight Harris?" asks the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +"No!" I says. "What d'ye mean <I>fight</I>! Leave that stuff for the +roughnecks, we're actors now!" +</P> + +<P> +</P> + +<P> +We got out to Film City at the end of the week and while there wasn't +no brass band to meet us at the station, there was a sad-lookin' guy +with one of them buckboard things and what at one time was probably a +horse. I never seen such a gloomy lookin' layout in my life; they +reminded me of a rainy Sunday in Philadelphia. The driver comes up to +us and, after takin' a long and searchin' look, says, +</P> + +<P> +"Which one of you fellers is the pugeylist?" +</P> + +<P> +"Pugilist?" I says. "What d'ye mean pugilist? We're the new leadin' +men for the stock company here. Pugilist! Ha! Ha! How John Drew +will laugh when I tell him that!" +</P> + +<P> +He takes a piece of paper from his pocket and reads it. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm lookin' for Kid Scanlan and Johnny Green," he announces. "One of +'em's supposed to be the welterweight champion, but I doubt it! I +never seen him fight!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I says, "you got a good chance to try for the title, bo, if you +ain't more respectful! I'm Mr. Green and that's Kid Scanlan, the +champ!" +</P> + +<P> +He looks at the Kid and kinda sneers. +</P> + +<P> +"All right!" he says. "Git aboard and I'll take you out to Mr. Genaro. +I'll tell you now, though, that if you ain't what you claim, you got to +walk back!" He takes a side glance at the Kid. "Champ, eh?" he +mutters. +</P> + +<P> +We climb in the buckboard and this guy turns to me and points the whip +at the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +"He don't look like no pugeylist to me," he goes on, like he's lookin' +for a argument, "let alone a champion! Still looks is deceivin' at +that. Take a crab, for instance—you'd never think from lookin' at it +that you could eat it, would you? No! Git up!" +</P> + +<P> +Git <I>up</I> was right, because the animal this guy had suspended between +the shafts had laid right down on the ground outside the station, +whilst he was talkin' to us. The noble beast got gamely to its feet at +the word from Gloomy Gus, give a little shiver that rattled the harness +and then turned around to see what its master had drawed from the train +that mornin'. It took a good eyeful and kinda curled up its lip and +sneered at us, showin' its yellow teeth in a sarcastical grin. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold fast!" remarks Gloomy Gus. "It's rough country here and this +horse is about to do a piece of runnin'!" He takes off his belt and +whales that equine over what would a been the back on a regular horse. +"Step along!" he asks it. +</P> + +<P> +Well, if they had that ride at Coney Island, they'd have made a fortune +with it in one summer, because as soon as Old Dobbin realized he'd been +hit, he started for South Africa and tried to make it in six jumps! He +folded his long skinny ears back of his neck somewheres and just simply +give himself over to runnin'. We went up hills and down vales that +would have broke an automobile's heart, we took corners on one leg and +creeks in a jump and when I seen the Pacific Ocean loomin' up in the +offing I begin to pray that the thing couldn't swim! Gloomy Gus leans +over and yells in my ear, "Some horse, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Is that what it is?" I hollers back. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, he's tryin' all right. He's what you could call a runnin' +fool!" We shot past somethin' that was just a black blur for a minute +and then disappeared back in the dust. "What was that?" I yells. +</P> + +<P> +"Montana!" screams Gloomy Gus, "and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ha! Ha!" roars the Kid, openin' his mouth for the first time. +"That's goin' a few! Let me know when we pass Oregon, I got a friend +there!" +</P> + +<P> +"Montana Bill!" explains Gloomy Gus, frownin' at the Kid. "That's the +only place you can get licker within five miles of Film City!" He +looks at the Kid again and mutters half to himself, "Champion, eh!" +</P> + +<P> +Then he yanks in the reins and we slow down to about a runaway's pace +right near what looks to be a World's Fair with a big wall around it +and an iron gate in the middle. We shot up to the entrance and the +horse calls it a day and stops, puffin' and blowin' like a fat +piano-mover. +</P> + +<P> +"Film City!" hollers Gloomy Gus. "Git out here and walk in. Mr. +Genaro's office is right back of the African Desert!" +</P> + +<P> +I thanked him for bringin' us in alive. He didn't say nothin' to me, +but as he was passin' in the gates I seen him lookin' after the Kid and +shakin' his head. "Champion, hey!" he mumbles. +</P> + +<P> +This Film City place would have made delerium tremens lay down and +quit. There was Indians, cowboys, cannibals, chorus girls, Japs, +sheriffs, train robbers, and—well, it looked like the place where they +assemble dime novels. A guy goes racin' past us on a horse with a lot +of maniacs, yellin' and shootin', tearin' after him and on the other +side a gang of laborers in tin hats and short skirts is havin' a battle +royal with swords. Three feet from where we're standin' a house is +burnin' down and two guys is sluggin' each other on the roof. We walk +along a little further and run into a private conversation. Some guy +in a new dress suit is makin' love to a dame, while another fellow +stands in front of them and says at the top of his voice, "Remember +now, you're madly in love with her, but father detests the sight of +your face. Ready—hey, camera—all right—wait a minute, wait a +minute, don't wrestle with her, embrace her, will you, <I>em</I>brace her!" +</P> + +<P> +Kid Scanlan takes this all in with his eyes poppin' out of his head and +his mouth as open as a stuss game. +</P> + +<P> +"Some joint, eh?" he says to me. "This is what I call a <I>regular</I> +cabaret! See if we can get a table near the front!" +</P> + +<P> +A lot of swell-lookin' dames comes in—well, of course it <I>was</I> some +warm out there, but even at that they was takin' an awful chance on +gettin' pneumonia, and files out of a house on the left and starts to +dance and I had to drag the Kid away bodily. We duck through a side +street, and every time we turn around some guy with a camera yells for +us to get out of the way, but finally we wind up at Mr. Genaro's +office. He ain't in, but a guy that was tells us Genaro's makin' a +picture of Richard the Third, over behind the Street Scene in Tokio. +We breezed over there and we found him. +</P> + +<P> +Genaro is in the middle of what looks like the chorus of a burlesque +show, only the men is wearin' tights instead of the women. I picked +him out right away because he was the first guy I had seen in the place +in citizen's clothes, outside of the guys with the kodaks. He was +little and fat, lookin' more like a human plum puddin' than anything +else. When we had worked our way through the mob, we saw that he was +shakin' his fist at 'em and bawlin' 'em out. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you Mr. Genaro?" I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"Joosta wait, joosta wait!" he hollers over his shoulder without even +lookin' around. "I'm a ver' busy joosta now! Writa me the letta!" +</P> + +<P> +"Where d'ye get that stuff?" I yells back, gettin' sore. "D'ye know +who we are?" +</P> + +<P> +I seen the rest of them gigglin', and Genaro dances around and throws +up his hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha!" he screams, pullin' at his hair. "You maka me crazy! What's a +mat—what you want? Queek, don't make me wait!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid growls at him and whispers in my ear, +</P> + +<P> +"Will I bounce him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not yet!" I tells him. "I'm Mr. Green," I says to Genaro, "and this +is Kid Scanlan, welterweight champion of the world, and if you pull any +more of that joosta wait stuff, you'll be able to say you fought him!" +</P> + +<P> +He drops his hands and smiles. +</P> + +<P> +"Excuse, please!" he says. "I maka mistake!" he grabs hold of his head +again and groans, "Gotta bunch bonehead here this morning," he goes on, +noddin' to 'em. "Driva me crazy! Shakespeare he see these feller play +Reechard, he joomp out of he'sa grave!" He swings around at them all +of a sudden and makes a face at 'em, "Broadaway star, eh?" he snarls. +"Bah! You maka me seek! Go away for one, two hour. I senda for +you—you all what you calla the bunk!" +</P> + +<P> +On the level I thought he was gonna bite 'em! +</P> + +<P> +The merry villagers scatter, and Genaro turns around to us and wipes +his face with a red silk handkerchief. +</P> + +<P> +"You knowa the piece?" he asks us. "Reechard the Third, Shakespeare?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not quite!" I says. "What is he—a local scrapper?" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid butts in and shoves me away. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't mind this guy," he says to Genaro. "He's nothin' but a igrant +roughneck! <I>I</I> got you right away. I remember in this Richard the +Third thing—they's a big battle in the last act and Dick tells a +gunman by the name of MacDuff to lay off him or he'll knock him for a +goal!" +</P> + +<P> +"Not lay off!" says Genaro, smiling "Lay on! Lay on, MacDuff!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" inquires the Kid. "I thought it was lay off. I only seen the +frolic once. I took off a member of Dick's gang at the Grand Oprey +house, when I was broke in Trenton." +</P> + +<P> +"Nex' week we start <I>your</I> picture," says Genaro to the Kid. "Mr. Van +Aylstyne he'sa write scenario now. This gonna be great for +you—magnificent! He'sa give you everything! Firsta reel you fall off +a cliff!" +</P> + +<P> +"Who, me?" hollers the Kid, +</P> + +<P> +"Si!" smiles Genaro. "Bada man wanna feex you, so you no fighta the +champ! You getta the beeg idea?" +</P> + +<P> +"What's next?" asks the Kid, frownin'. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" pipes Genaro, rollin' his eyes at the sky. "We giva you the +whole picture! Second reel you get run over by train—fasta mail! You +see? So you no fighta the champ!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid looks at me and grabs my arm. +</P> + +<P> +"This guy's a maniac!" he hollers. "Did you get that railroad thing? +He—" +</P> + +<P> +Genaro goes right on like he don't hear him. +</P> + +<P> +"Thirda reel!" he says. "Thirda reel you get hit by two automobiles, +this bada feller try to feex you so you no fighta the champ!" +</P> + +<P> +"Wait!" I butts in. "You must—" +</P> + +<P> +"But fiftha reel—aaah!" Genaro don't pay no attention to me, but +kisses his hand at a tree. "Fiftha reel," he says, "she'sa great! Get +everybody excite! You get throw from sheep in ocean, fella shoot at +you when you try sweem, bada fella come along in motorboat, he'sa run +you down! Then you swim five, six, seven mile to land and there dozen +feller beat you with club—so you no fighta the champ!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid has sunk down on a chair and he's fannin' himself. His face +was the color of skim milk. +</P> + +<P> +"What you think?" asks Genaro. "She's a maka fine picture, what?" +</P> + +<P> +"Great!" I says. "If that guy that wants to fix the Kid so he no +fighta the champ loses out, they can't say he wasn't tryin' anyhow! +Why don't you throw in another reel, showin' the lions devourin' the +Kid—so he no fighta the champ?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's a good!" Genaro shakes his head. "I spika to Van Aylstyne!" +</P> + +<P> +He took us up to his office and when we get inside the door they's a +dame sittin' there which would make Venus look like a small-town +soubrette. She looked like these other movie queens would like to! +Whilst we're givin' her the up and down, she smiles at the Kid and he +immediately drops his hat on the floor and knocks over a inkwell. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Vincent," says Genaro, "this Mr. Kid Scanlan. He'sa work with +you nex' week. This Mr. Green, hisa fr'en'." +</P> + +<P> +We shake hands all around and the Kid elbows me to one side. +</P> + +<P> +"Where are you goin' this afternoon?" he asks the dame. "Anywheres?" +</P> + +<P> +Genaro raps on the desk. +</P> + +<P> +"Joosta one minoote!" he calls out. "Mr. Kid Scanlan, I would like—" +</P> + +<P> +"Joosta wait!" pipes the Kid. "Writa me the letta! I'm ver' busy +joosta now!" He puts one hand on the mantelpiece and drapes himself in +front of the dame. "And you haven't been here long, eh?" he says. +</P> + +<P> +Genaro frowns for a minute and then he grins and winks at me. +</P> + +<P> +"Miss Vincent!" he butts in. "You show Mr. Kid Scanlan all around this +afternoon, what? Explain him everything about nex' week we maka his +picture. What you think, no?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" pipes the Kid grabbin' his hat. "I never been nowheres. Lets +go!" +</P> + +<P> +The dame smiles some more, and, well, Scanlan must have been born with +a horseshoe in each hand because she takes his arm and they blow. +</P> + +<P> +Just as they were goin' out the door, in comes Gloomy Gus which brought +us up from the station. He looks at the Kid and this dame goin' out +and he sneers after 'em. +</P> + +<P> +"Champion!" he mutters, curlin' his lip. "Huh!" +</P> + +<P> +The next mornin' we meet this guy Van Aylstyne who doped out the stuff +so the Kid "no fighta the champ!" He's a tall, slim, gentle-lookin' +bird, all dressed in white like a Queen of the May or somethin' and +after hearin' him talk I figured my first guess was about right. We +also got to know Edmund De Vronde, one of the leadin' men and the shop +girls' delight, and him and Van Aylstyne were both members of the same +lodge. Whilst we're standin' there talkin' to Genaro, who I found out +was the headkeeper or somethin', along comes Miss Vincent in one of +them trick autos that has a seat for two thin people and a gasoline +tank. Only, you don't sit in 'em, you just stoop, with your knees +jammed up against your chin. She drives this thing right up and stops +where we're standin'. If she ever looked any better, she'd have fell +for herself! +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going to Long Beach," she sings out, "and I'm going to hit nothing +but the tops of the trees! Come along?" +</P> + +<P> +De Vronde, Van Aylstyne and the Kid left their marks at the same time, +but you know, my boy was welterweight champ and when that auto buzzed +away from there he went with it. +</P> + +<P> +"Ugh!" remarks De Vronde. "I loathe those creatures!" He dusts off +his sleeve where the Kid had grabbed it to toss him to one side. "The +fellow struck me!" he says indignantly. +</P> + +<P> +Van Aylstyne picks up his hat which had fell off in the struggle. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank Heavens," he tells the other guy, "we will soon be rid of him! +I'll have the script ready for Genaro to-morrow! I never saw such a +vicious assault!" +</P> + +<P> +They walked away, and I turns to Genaro who had stepped aside for a +minute. +</P> + +<P> +"Say!" I asks him. "Is this De Vronde guy worth anything to you?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Sapristi</I>!" he tells me, makin' a face. "I could keel him! He'sa +wan greata big what you call bunk! He'sa no good! He can't act, he +can do nothing. Joosta got nice face—that's all!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I says, "he won't have no nice face, if he don't lay off the +Kid! If Scanlan hears him make any cracks about him like he just did +now—well, he'll practically ruin him, that's all!" +</P> + +<P> +After a while the Kid and Miss Vincent comes back and she hurries away +to change her clothes because she's got to work in this Richard the +Third thing. The Kid is all covered with dirt and mud and his face is +all cut up from the flyin' pebbles and sand. +</P> + +<P> +"Say!" he says to me. "That's some dame, believe me! We passed +everything on the road from here to Long Beach and on the way back we +beat the Sante Fe in by a city block! Come on over and see her work; +she's gonna act in that Richard the Third thing!" +</P> + +<P> +We breezed over past the African Desert and there's the troupe all +gathered around a guy in his shirt sleeves, who's readin' 'em somethin' +out of a book. One of the camera guys tells me it's Mr. Duke, Genaro's +assistant. +</P> + +<P> +"A fine piece of Camembert he is, too!" says this guy. "He put me over +on this side to get the battle scene from an angle and tells me to +shoot the minute the mêlée starts in case I don't get his signal. One +of them dames fainted from the heat a minute ago and the rest of 'em go +rushin' around yellin' like a lot of nuts. Naturally I thought the +thing went in the picture and I took forty feet of it before he called +me off! He's gonna report me now and I'm liable to get the gate when +Genaro shows up! I'll <I>get</I> the big stew, though,—watch me!" +</P> + +<P> +At this stage of the game, this Mr. Duke waves for us to come over. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's Mr. Genaro?" he wants to know. +</P> + +<P> +"Search me!" I tells him. "I just left him an hour or so ago and—" +</P> + +<P> +He hurls down the book and dances around like he's gonna throw a fit or +somethin'. +</P> + +<P> +"I been all over the place," he yells, "and I can't find him! I want +to get this exterior while the sun is right and there's no Richard or +no Genaro!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid, who has been talkin' to Miss Vincent, comes over then and says, +</P> + +<P> +"What's all the excitement?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who are you?" asks Duke. +</P> + +<P> +"We're from New York," I butts in, "and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, sufferin' cats!" hollers Duke. "Why didn't you say so before? +One of you is the man I'm holdin' this picture for!" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Genaro says," I begins, "that next week is—" +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind Genaro!" shrieks Duke. "He ain't here now and I'm +directing this picture! See that sun commencing to get dim? Which one +of you was sent on by Mr. Potts?" +</P> + +<P> +"This guy here!" I tells him, pointin' to the Kid. "I'm his manager." +</P> + +<P> +"Carries a manager, does he?" snorts Duke. "Well, run him in the +dressin' room there and get a costume on him. Hurry up, will you—look +at that sun!" +</P> + +<P> +We beat it on the run for the place he pointed out, and as we started +away I seen him throw out his chest and say to one of the dames, +</P> + +<P> +"<I>That's</I> the way those stars should be handled all the time! Fussing +over them is a mistake; you must show them at once that no such thing +as temperament will be tolerated! Broadway star, eh? Well, you saw +how <I>I</I> handled him!" +</P> + +<P> +I didn't quite make that stuff, but I felt that somethin' was wrong +somewheres. Genaro had told me the Kid's picture wasn't to be made for +a week, but we were gettin' thirty thousand for this stunt so I says to +the Kid, +</P> + +<P> +"Get in there and shed them clothes of yours and I'll beat it over to +the hotel and get your ring togs! They're gettin' ready to fix you so +you no fighta the champ!" +</P> + +<P> +I beat it back to the trick hotel and got the suitcase with the Kid's +gloves, shoes and trunks in it and it didn't take me five minutes to +get back, but that Duke guy is on my neck the minute he sees me. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you hurry up?" he hollers, pullin' a watch on me. "Look at that +sun!" +</P> + +<P> +"He'll be out in a minute now!" I says. "I got a guy in there helpin' +him dress." +</P> + +<P> +"He knows this stuff all right, doesn't he?" he asks me. "I understand +he's been doing nothing but the one line for years." +</P> + +<P> +"Knows it?" I laughs. "He's the world's champion; that's good enough, +ain't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's what they all say!" he sneers. "All I hope is that he ain't no +cheap ham! Look at that sun gettin' away from me!" +</P> + +<P> +While I'm tryin' to dope out what all these birds in tights and with +feathers in their hats has got to do with "How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title," Duke grabs my arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Drag that fellow out of the dressin' room," he says, "and tell him he +enters from the second entrance where those trees are. He goes right +through the Tower scene—he knows it by heart, I guess. I'll be right +up on that platform there directing and that's where he wants to +face—not the camera!" +</P> + +<P> +Well, I went into the dressin' room and the Kid is ready. He's got on +a pair of eight ounce gloves, red silk trunks and ring shoes. +</P> + +<P> +"What do I pull now?" he asks me. +</P> + +<P> +"Just walk right out from between them trees," I says, "and they'll tip +you off to the rest." +</P> + +<P> +We sneaked around the scene from the back and stood behind the tree +which Duke had pointed out. A stage hand or somethin' who seemed to be +sufferin' from hysterics told us not to let Duke see us till we entered +the scene, because it was considered bad luck to walk before the camera +first. +</P> + +<P> +"Clear!" we hear Duke yellin', and then he blows a whistle. "Hey, move +faster there, you extra people, a little ginger! Billy, face center, +can't you! Now, Miss Vincent, register fear—that's it, great! All +right, Richard!" +</P> + +<P> +"That's you!" pipes the stage hand, and on walks the Kid. He stands in +the middle of the scene like he done many a time in the newspaper +offices back home and strikes a fightin' pose. +</P> + +<P> +A couple of women shrieks and runs back of the trees hidin' their faces +and Miss Vincent falls in a chair and laughs herself sick. To say the +Kid created a sensation would be puttin' it mild—he was a riot! The +rest of the bunch howls out loud, holdin' their sides and staggerin' up +against each other, and the stage hands rolled around the floor. But +the guy that was runnin' the thing, this Duke person, almost faints, +and then he gets red in the face and jumps down off the platform. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean?" he screams at the Kid. "What do you mean by coming +out before these ladies and gentlemen in that garb? How dare you? Is +that your interpretation of Richard the Third? Have you been drinking +or what?" +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter, pal?" asks the Kid, lookin' surprised. "I got to +wear <I>somethin'</I>, don't I?" +</P> + +<P> +Off goes the bunch howlin' again. +</P> + +<P> +"If this is a joke, sir," yells Duke, "it will be a mighty costly one +for you!" +</P> + +<P> +This De Vronde has been standin' on the side lookin' on and the Kid, +seein' Miss Vincent, waves a glove at her. She waves back holdin' her +side and smiles. +</P> + +<P> +"Haw! Haw! Haw!" roars this De Vronde guy. "How droll!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid is over to him in two steps. He's seen that everybody is +givin' him the laugh and he realizes he's in wrong somehow, but the +thing has him puzzled. +</P> + +<P> +"Where d'ye get that 'haw, haw' stuff?" he snarls, stickin' his chin +out in front of De Vronde. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, you ignorant ass!" sneers De Vronde, out loud, so's Miss Vincent +can hear him. "If you had any brains you'd know!" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't need no brains!" snaps the Kid, settin' himself. "I got +<I>this</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +And he drops De Vronde with a right hook to the jaw! +</P> + +<P> +"Boys!" screams Duke, pointin' to the Kid. "Throw that ruffian out!" +</P> + +<P> +A couple of big huskies makes a dash for the Kid, and I figured I might +as well get in the thing now as later, so I tripped one as he was goin' +past and the Kid bounces the other with a short left. De Vronde jumps +up and hits the Kid over the head with a cane, while Miss Vincent +screams and hollers "Coward!" Then a bunch of supers comes runnin' in +from the back just as the Kid puts De Vronde down for keeps, and in a +minute everybody was in there tryin'. +</P> + +<P> +Everybody but one guy, and he was turnin' the crank of his camera like +he was gettin' paid by the number of revolutions the thing made. +</P> + +<P> +While it lasted, it was some fracas, as we say at the studio. It +certainly was a scream to see them guys, all dressed up to play the +life out of Richard the Third, fallin' all over each other to get out +of the way of the Kid's arms and bein' held back by the jam behind 'em. +After the Kid has beat most of them up and I have took care of a few +myself, a whistle blows and they all fall back—and in rushes Genaro. +</P> + +<P> +"Sapristi!" he hollers. "What you mean eh? What you people do with my +Reechard?" +</P> + +<P> +Duke tries to see him out of his one good eye. +</P> + +<P> +"This scoundrel," he pipes, pointin' to the Kid, "came out here to play +Richard the Third costumed like that!" +</P> + +<P> +Genaro looks from me to the Kid and grabs his head. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" he yells. "That feller want to play Reechard? Ho, ho! You +maka me laugh! You're crazy lika the heat! That's what you call +fighting champion of the world! He'sa Mr. Kid Scanlan. We maka hisa +picture nex' week!" +</P> + +<P> +Duke gives a yell and falls in a chair. +</P> + +<P> +I pulls on my coat and wipes my face with a handkerchief. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," I says, "and they just tried to fix him so he no fighta the +champ!" +</P> + +<P> +"Zowie!" pipes Duke, sprawled out in the chair, "I thought he was +Roberts, the man we wired to come on from Boston! What in the name of +Charlie Chaplin will we do now? Potts will be here to-morrow to see +this picture and you know what it means, if it isn't made!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid is over talkin' to Miss Vincent and Genaro calls him over. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Viola</I>!" he tells him. "You see what you do? You spoil the greata +picture, the actor, the everything! To-morrow Mr. Potts he'sa come +here. 'Where's a Reechard the Third, Genaro?' he'sa wanna know. I +tella him—then, good-by everybody!" +</P> + +<P> +"Everything would have been O.K.," says the Kid, pointin' to De Vronde +who's got a couple of dames workin' over him with smellin' salts. +"Everything would have been O.K. at that, if Stupid over there hadn't +gimme the haw, haw!" +</P> + +<P> +We go back to the dressing-room and the Kid gets on his clothes. That +night, findin' that we was as welcome in Film City as smallpox, we went +over to Frisco and saw the town. +</P> + +<P> +When we come back the next mornin' and breeze in the gates, the first +thing we see is Gloomy Gus that drove us up from the station. +</P> + +<P> +"Say!" he sings out. "You fellers are gonna get it good! The boss is +here." +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" says the Kid. "Where's Miss Vincent?" +</P> + +<P> +"Talkin' to the boss!" he answers. "I don't believe you're no fighter, +either!" +</P> + +<P> +"Where was you yesterday?" I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"Mind yer own business!" he snaps. He gives the Kid the up and down. +"Champion of the world!" he sneers. "Huh!" +</P> + +<P> +"Go 'way!" the Kid warns him. "I got enough work yesterday!" +</P> + +<P> +"I think you're a big bluff!" persists the gloomy guy, puttin' up his +hands and circlin' around the Kid. "Come on and fight or acknowledge +yore master!" +</P> + +<P> +He makes a pass at the Kid and the Kid steps inside of it and drops +him, just as a big auto comes roarin' past and stops. Out hops friend +Potts, the guy that practically give us our start in the movies. In +other words, the thirty thousand dollar kid! +</P> + +<P> +"Well, well!" he pipes, lookin' at the gloomy guy on the turf and then +at us. "What does this mean, sir? Are you trying to annihilate all my +employees? Do you know you cost me a small fortune yesterday by +ruining that Richard the Third picture?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry, boss," the Kid tells him, proddin' Gloomy Gus carelessly +with his foot, "but all your hired men jumped at me at once and a guy +has to protect himself, don't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense!" grunts Potts. "You assaulted Mr. De Vronde and temporarily +disabled several of my best people! I had made all arrangements for +the release of that Shakespeare picture in two days, and you have put +me in a terrible hole!" +</P> + +<P> +"Now, listen," I butts in, "I tried to—" +</P> + +<P> +"Not a word!" he cuts me off, wavin' his hands. "One of the camera +men, another infernal idiot, kept turning the crank while this +disgraceful brawl was at its height and I have proof of your villainy +on film! I'll use it as a basis to sever my contract with you and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Slow up!" I says. "If you lay down on the thirty thousand iron men, +I'll pull a suit on you!" +</P> + +<P> +Along comes a guy and touches Potts on the arm. +</P> + +<P> +"They're waiting for you in the projecting room," he says. +</P> + +<P> +"Come with me—both of you!" barks Potts, "and see for yourself the +damage you caused!" +</P> + +<P> +We followed him around to a little dark room with three or four chairs +in it and a sheet on one wall. De Vronde, Miss Vincent, Duke and +Genaro are there waitin' for us. +</P> + +<P> +Well, they start to show the picture, and everything is all right up to +the time the Kid busted into the drama. Now I hadn't seen nothin' out +of the way at the time it actually happened, but here in this little +room it was a riot when they showed it on the sheet. You could see +Scanlan wallop De Vronde and then in another second the massacre is on +full blast! +</P> + +<P> +On the level, it was the funniest thing I'd seen in a long time. A guy +with lockjaw would have to laugh at it. Here was the Kid knockin' 'em +cold as fast as they come on, with their little trick hats and the pink +silk tights. There was a pile of Shakespeare actors a foot deep all +around him as far as you could see. Potts is laughin' louder than +anybody in the place, and when they finally shut the thing off he slaps +the Kid on the back. +</P> + +<P> +"Great!" he hollers. "Wonderful! Who directed that?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>I</I> did!" pipes Duke, throwin' out his chest. "Some picture, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Joosta one minoote!" says Genaro, wakin' up, "joosta one minoote! It +was under my supervision, Mr. Potts! I feexa the—" +</P> + +<P> +"Cut that strip of film off!" Potts interrupts, "and take four more +reels based on the same idea! Get somebody to write a scenario around +a fighter busting into the drama and playing Shakespeare! It's never +been done, and if the rest of it is as funny as that it will be a +knockout!" +</P> + +<P> +"But Reechard!" says Genaro. "What of heem?" +</P> + +<P> +"Drop it!" snaps Potts. "Everybody get to work on this and I'll stay +here till it's finished!" +</P> + +<P> +I looked around and pipe the Kid—over talkin' to Miss Vincent, of +course. +</P> + +<P> +"Say!" he wants to know. "Do we go to Oakland in that rabbit-chaser of +yours this afternoon, Miss Vincent?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sir!" butts in De Vronde. "This lady and I are conversing!" +</P> + +<P> +"Now listen, Cutey!" smiles the Kid. "You know what happened +yesterday, don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +De Vronde turns pale and Miss Vincent giggles. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course we're going to Oakland!" she laughs. "I'm going to be your +leading woman next week in 'How Kid Scanlan Won the Title.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Suits me!" says the Kid. "But say, on the level now—I'm there +forty-seven ways on that Shakespeare thing, ain't I?" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +EAST LYNCH +</H4> + +<P> +Success has ruined more guys than failure ever will. It's like a Santa +Cruz rum milk punch on an empty stomach—there's very few people can +stand it. Many a guy that's a regular fellow at a hundred a month, +becomes a boob at a hundred a week. What beat Napoleon, Caesar and +Nero—failure? No, success! Give the thing the once over some time +and you'll see that I'm right. +</P> + +<P> +Success is the large evenin' with the boys at the lodge and failure is +the mornin' after. As a matter of fact, they're twins. Often you can +be a success without knowin' it, so if you been a failure all your life +accordin' to your own dope, cheer up. But when you get up to the top +where you can look down at all these other guys tryin' to sidestep the +banana peels of life and climb up with you, knock off thinkin' what a +big guy you are for a minute and give ten minutes to thinkin' what a +tough time you had gettin' there. Give five minutes more to ruminatin' +on how long the mob remembers a loser and you'll find it the best +sixteen minutes you ever spent in your life. +</P> + +<P> +In these days when the world is just a great big baby yellin' for a new +toy every second, any simp can beat his way to the top. The real stunt +is <I>stayin' there</I> after you arrive! +</P> + +<P> +Kid Scanlan was a good sample of that. When the Kid was fightin' for +bean money and the exercise, he never spent nothin' but the evenin' and +very little of that. He didn't know whether booze was a drink or a +liniment and the only ladies he was bothered about was his mother. But +when he knocked out One-Punch Ross for the title and eased himself into +the movies, it was all different. He begin to spend money like a +vice-investigating committee, knock around with bartenders and give in +to all the strange desires that hits a guy with his health and a +bankroll. I stood by and cheered for a while until he crashes in love +with this movie queen, Miss Vincent, that got more money a start than +the Kid did in a season and more letters from well wishin' males than a +newly elected mayor. Then I stepped in and saved the Kid just before +he become a total loss. +</P> + +<P> +I was standin' by the African Desert one day watchin' them take a +picture called "Rapacious Rupert's Revenge," when the Kid comes over +and calls me aside. Since he had become a actor he had gave himself up +to dressin' in panama hats, Palm Beach suits and white shoes. He +reminded me of the handsome young lieutenant in a musical comedy. +Every time I seen him in that outfit I expected to hear him burst into +some song like, "All hail, the Queen comes thither!" Know what I mean? +</P> + +<P> +Well, havin' lured me away under the shade of some palm trees, the Kid +tells me he's goin' over to Frisco on a little shoppin' expedition, and +he wants me to come with him. I says I can't drink a thing because I +have had a terrible headache since the night before when him and me and +some camera men went to Montana Bill's and toyed with the illegal brew +for a few hours. +</P> + +<P> +"That last round," I says, "which I'll always remember because it come +to six eighty-five, was what ruined me. The bartender must have gone +crazy and put booze in them cocktails, because I've had that headache +ever since!" +</P> + +<P> +"It ain't the cocktails that give you the headache," the Kid tells me, +"it was the check. And you must have had a bun on before that, anyhow, +because you paid it! But that's got nothin' to do with this here trip +to Frisco. I'm not goin' to stop anywheres for no powders. I'm gonna +get somethin' I've needed for a long time!" +</P> + +<P> +"What is it," I asks him, "a clean collar?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you'd save that comedy for some rainy Sunday," he says; "that +stuff of yours is about as funny as a broken arm! Since I been out +here with these swell actors, I been changin' my clothes so often that +I'll bet my body thinks I'm kiddin' it. Stop knockin' and come over to +Frisco with me and—" +</P> + +<P> +I don't know what else he was goin' to say, because just at that minute +a Kansas cyclone on wheels come between us and I come to in a ditch +about five feet from where the Kid is tryin' to see can he really stand +on his head. When I had picked up enough ambition to get to my feet, I +went over and jacked up the Kid. About half a mile up the road the +thing which had attacked us is turnin' around. +</P> + +<P> +"Run for your life!" I yells to the Kid. "It's comin' back!" +</P> + +<P> +Before we could pick our hidin' places, the thing has drawed up in +front of us and we see it's one of them trick autos known to the trade +as racin' cars. I recognized it right away as belongin' to Miss +Vincent. The owner was in the car and beside her was Edmund De Vronde, +the shop-girls' delight. The Kid and De Vronde had took to each other +from the minute they first met like a ferret does to a rat. It was a +case of hate at first sight. So you can figure that this little +incident did nothin' to cement the friendship. Miss Vincent leaps out +of the thing and comes runnin' over to us. +</P> + +<P> +"Good Heavens!" she says. "You're not hurt, are you?" +</P> + +<P> +She's lookin' right past me and at the Kid like it made little or no +difference whether <I>I</I> was damaged or not. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid throws half an acre of California out of his collar and removes +a few pebbles and a cigar butt from his ear. +</P> + +<P> +"No!" he growls, with a sarcastical smile. "Was they many killed?" +</P> + +<P> +She takes out a little trick silk handkerchief and wipes off his face +with it. +</P> + +<P> +"I meant to step on the foot brake," she explains, "and I must have +stepped on the gas by mistake!" +</P> + +<P> +"You must have stepped on the dynamite," I butts in, "because it blowed +me into the ditch!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid shakes a bucket or so of sand out of his hair and looks over at +the car where De Vronde is examin' us through a pair of cheaters and +enjoyin' himself scandalously. +</P> + +<P> +"I see you got Foolish with you," says the Kid to Miss Vincent. +"What's the matter—are you off me now?" +</P> + +<P> +She smiles and wipes some mud off the Kid's collar. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, no," she tells him. "Genaro is putting on 'The Escapes of Eva' +this morning and I'm playing the lead opposite Mr. De Vronde. I +happened to pick him up on the road and I'm bringing him in, that's +all." +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" says the Kid, still lookin' over at the car. "What are <I>you</I> +laughin' at, Stupid?" he snarls suddenly at De Vronde. +</P> + +<P> +De Vronde give a shiver and the glasses fell off in the bottom of the +car. While he was stoopin' down to look for 'em, the Kid turns to Miss +Vincent. +</P> + +<P> +"I only wish he had been drivin' the thing," he says, "because then I'd +have some excuse for bouncin' him! On the level, now," he goes on, +winkin' at her, "he <I>was</I> drivin' the thing, wasn't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no!" she answers. "I was at the wheel." +</P> + +<P> +The Kid frowns and thinks for a minute. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he says finally, takin' another look at De Vronde, "ain't the +brakes or somethin' where he was sittin'?" +</P> + +<P> +"No!" she tells him, grabbin' him by the arm. "Please don't lose your +head now and start a fuss! I'm awfully sorry this happened, but as +long as neither of you were hurt and—" +</P> + +<P> +"It didn't do me no <I>good</I>, that's a cinch!" butts in the Kid, with a +meanin' look at his spoiled scenery. He walks over to the car and +glares up at De Vronde. "Hey!" he snarls. "What d'ye mean by bein' in +a automobile that runs over me, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +De Vronde moves as far over as the seat will let him, and then falls +back on prayer. +</P> + +<P> +"I must decline to enter any controversy with you," he pipes, after a +minute. "You were standing in the right of way and—" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid grins and holds up his hand. His face has lighted all up and +he's lickin' his lips like he always did in the ring when he seen the +other guy was pickin' out a place to fall. He's walked around to where +De Vronde had been sittin' and piped a little handle stickin' up. +</P> + +<P> +"What's this?" he calls to Miss Vincent, who's climbin' in the other +side. +</P> + +<P> +"That's just the oil pump," she says. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid suddenly reaches up, grabs De Vronde by the arm and jerks him +out of the car. +</P> + +<P> +"You big stiff!" he roars. "Why didn't you pump that oil, hey? If you +had done that, the thing wouldn't have hit us! I knowed it was all +your fault—you deliberately laid off that pump, hopin' we'd get +killed!" +</P> + +<P> +With that he starts an uppercut from the ground, but I yanked him away +just as De Vronde murmurs, "Safety first!" and takes a dive. Miss +Vincent gets out and gives me a hand with the Kid, and De Vronde sits +up and menaces us with his cane. +</P> + +<P> +"That isn't a bit nice!" Miss Vincent frowns at the Kid. "That's +ruffianly! You never should have struck him!" +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't hit him!" yells the Kid. "The big tramp quit! If I had hit +him he wouldn't be gettin' up." +</P> + +<P> +He starts over again, but I held him until she has climbed into the car +with De Vronde and they shoot up the road. Just before they +disappeared, De Vronde turns around in the seat and shakes his finger +at us. +</P> + +<P> +"Only the presence of the lady," he calls, "saves you from my wrath!" +</P> + +<P> +"Come on!" says the Kid, grabbin' my arm. "Let's get the next train +for Frisco, before I run after that guy and flatten him! Believe me," +he goes on, lookin' up the road after the car, "I'll get that bird +before the day is over if I have to bust a leg!" +</P> + +<P> +And that's just what he did—both! +</P> + +<P> +All the way over in the train I tried to work the third degree on the +Kid to find out what he was goin' to buy, but there was nothin' doin'. +He stalled me off until we pull into the town and then he takes me to a +street that was so far from the railroad station I come near castin' a +shoe on the way over. About half way down this boulevard there's a +garage and the Kid stops in front of it. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait here!" he tells me. "And don't let nobody give you no babies to +mind. I'll be right out!" +</P> + +<P> +He slips inside and I'm lookin' the joint over when a big sign catches +my eye. I took one good flash at the thing, and then I starts right in +after the Kid. A friend of mine in New York had gone into a place with +a sign on it like that one time and made a purchase. Six months later +when he come out of the hospital, he claimed the bare smell of gasoline +made him faint Here's what it said on that sign, +</P> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +J. MARKOWITZ +<BR> +USED AND NEARLY NEW AUTOS +<BR> +FOR SALE +</H4> + +<BR> + +<P> +It was kinda dark inside and it takes me a minute to get my bearin's, +but finally I see the Kid and a snappy dressed guy standin' in front of +what I at first thought was a Pullman sleeper. When I get a close up, +though, I find it's only a tourin' car. It was the biggest automobile +I ever seen in my life; a sightseein' bus would have looked like a +runabout alongside of it. There was one there and it did! The thing +hadn't been painted since the <I>Maine</I> was blowed up, and you could see +the guy that had been keepin' it was fond of the open air, because +there was samples of mud from probably all over the world on it. +</P> + +<P> +"You could believe it, you're gettin' it a practically brand new car!" +the young feller is tellin' the Kid. "The shoes are in A number one +condition—all they need is now vulcanizin', and Oi!—how that car +could travel!" +</P> + +<P> +"Just a minute!" I butts in. "Before you make this sale, I want to +speak to my friend here." +</P> + +<P> +Both him and the Kid glares at me, and the Kid pushes me aside. +</P> + +<P> +"Lay off!" he says. "I know just what you're gonna say. There's no +use of you tryin' to discourage me, because I'm gonna buy a car. Here +I am makin' all kinds of money and I might as well be a bum!—no +automobile or nothin'. I should have had a car long ago; all the big +leaguers own their own tourin' cars. There's no class to you any more, +if you don't flit from place to place in your own bus!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" I comes back. "Well, Washington never had no car, but that +didn't stop <I>him</I> from gettin' over! I never heard of Columbus gettin' +pinched for speedin' and Shakespeare never had no trouble with +blowouts. Yet all them birds was looked on as the loud crash in their +time. What's the answer to that?" +</P> + +<P> +In butts I. Markowitz, shovin' his hat back on his ears. +</P> + +<P> +"That brings us right down to the present!" he says. "And I could tell +you why none of your friends had oitermobiles. Cars was too expensive +in them days—a millionaire even would have to talk it over with his +wife before they should buy one. But now, almost they give them away! +Materials is cheaper, in Europe the war is over and now competition +is—is—more! That's why I'm able to let your friend have this factory +pet here for eight hundred dollars. A bargain you ask me? A man never +heard a bargain like that!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't worry!" I tells him. "Nobody will ever hear about it from me. +If you made him a present of it and throwed in the garage, it would +still be expensive!" +</P> + +<P> +"Who's buyin' this car?" snarls the Kid. "You or me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not guilty!" I says. "If you got to have a car, why don't you buy a +new one?" +</P> + +<P> +"This is the same as new!" pipes I. Markowitz. +</P> + +<P> +"Speak when you're spoken to, Stupid!" I says. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't start nothin' here," the Kid tells me, pullin' me away. "I +don't want none of them new cars. They're too stiff and I might go out +and hit somebody the first crack out of the box. I want one that's +been broke in." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I laughs, "that's what you're gettin', believe me! That there +thing has been broke in and out!" I turns to I. Markowitz. "What make +is the old boiler?" I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"Boiler he calls it!" he says, throwin' up his hands and lookin' at the +ceilin'. "It's an A. G. F. I suppose even you know what an A number +one car that is, don't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No!" I answers. "But I know what A. G. F. means." +</P> + +<P> +He falls. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" he wants to know. +</P> + +<P> +"Always Gettin' Fixed!" I tells him. "They make all them used cars. I +know a guy had two of them and between 'em they made a fortune for +three garages and five lawyers! How old is it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Old!" says I. Markowitz, recovering "Who said it was old? Your wife +should be as young as that car! It was turned in here last week, only +eight short days from the factory. The owner was sudden called he +should go out of town and—" +</P> + +<P> +"And he went somewheres and got an automobile to make the trip," I cuts +him off, "and left this thing here!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't mind him!" says the Kid, gettin' impatient. "Gimme a receipt." +He digs down for the roll. +</P> + +<P> +While I. Markowitz is countin' the money with lovin' fingers, I went +around to one side of the so called auto and looked at the speedometer. +One flash at the little trick clock was ample. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop!" I yells, glarin' at him. "How long did you say this car had +been out of the factory?" +</P> + +<P> +"Right away he hollers at me!" says I. Markowitz to the Kid. "A week." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I tells him, "all I got to say is that the bird that had it +must have been fleein' the police! He certainly seen a lot of the +world, but I can't figure how he slept. He was what you could call a +motorin' fool. It says on this speedometer here, 45,687 miles and if +that guy did it in a week, I got to hand it to him! I'll bet he's so +nutty over speed that he's goin' around now bein' shot out of cannons +from place to place, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +I. Markowitz gets kinda balled up and blows his nose twice. +</P> + +<P> +"That must be the—the—motor number!" he stammers. +</P> + +<P> +"Sure!" nods the Kid. "Don't mind him, he's always got the hammer out. +Count that change and gimme a receipt." +</P> + +<P> +"Wait!" I says. "Gimme one more chance to save you from givin' +yourself the work. Have you heard the motor turn over? Does the +clutch slip in all right? Do the brakes work? Has the—" +</P> + +<P> +"Say!" butts in the Kid. "What d'ye think I been doin'—workin' here +at nights? Don't mind him," he tells I. Markowitz, who ain't. "Hurry +up with that receipt!" +</P> + +<P> +"How is the motor?" I asks that brigand. "Tell me that, will you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Convalescent!" he sneers, tuckin' the Kid's bankroll away. +</P> + +<P> +"Some motor, eh?" pipes the Kid. "And it's got a one-man top on it +besides, ain't it?" he asks I. Markowitz. +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" says he. "Everything new and up to date you would find on +this car which only yesterday I could have sold to a feller for a +thousand dollars!" +</P> + +<P> +After pullin' that, he walks over to the thing and climbs in the back. +"An example!" he says. "If you're alone in the car and there's nobody +with you, you only should stand up on the seat and pull up the top like +this, if it comes up a rain. Then you—" +</P> + +<P> +I didn't hear the rest on account of him havin' trouble makin' his +voice travel from under the seat, because he reached up and pulled +somethin' here and jerked somethin' there—and that one-man top made +good! I thought at first the ceilin' of the joint had fell in, and +I'll bet I. Markowitz <I>knowed</I> it had, but then I seen it was only the +thing that keeps the rain out of the car. Me and the Kid drags him +out, and as soon as he gets on his feet and felt to see if he had his +watch and so forth, he wipes the dirt out of his eyes and turns on me. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a wonder I ain't now dead on account from you?" he snarls. "I +suppose you're one of them wise fellers from New Jersey, which they got +to be showed everything, heh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Missouri!" I says. "Not New Jersey. If I was from New Jersey, I +would probably be fightin' with the Kid to let <I>me</I> buy the car!" +</P> + +<P> +"It's got a self-commencer on it, too!" yelps the Kid, climbin' into +the front seat. "See—lookit!" He presses a button with his foot and +a laughin' hyena or somethin' in the hood moans a couple of times and +then passes away. +</P> + +<P> +"The first time I wouldn't be surprised you should have to crank it," +says I. Markowitz. "The motor has been standin' so long—I mean—that +is—speakin' of motors, I think that one is maybe a little cold! Once +she gets runnin' everything will be A number one!" +</P> + +<P> +I goes around the front of the thing and stoops down. +</P> + +<P> +"Put her on battery, if there's any on there," I calls to the Kid, "and +I'll spin the motor!" +</P> + +<P> +I. Markowitz steps over and lays his hand on my arm. His face is as +serious as prohibition. +</P> + +<P> +"Its only fair I should tell you," he whispers, "that she kicks a +little!" +</P> + +<P> +I give him a ungrateful look and grabs hold of the crank. After +turnin' the thing ninety-four times without gettin' nothin' but a +blister on my thumb, I quit. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothin' stirrin'," I remarks to I. Markowitz. +</P> + +<P> +"Believe me, that's funny!" he tells me, shakin' his head like he had +ball bearin's in his neck. +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't it?" I says. "Are you positive they's a motor inside there?" +</P> + +<P> +He makes a funny little noise in his throat and not knowin' him long, I +didn't know what he meant. There's a big husky in overalls walkin' by +with plenty of medium oil on his face and a monkey wrench in his hand. +I. Markowitz hisses at him, and they exchange jokes in some foreign +language for a minute and then the new-comer grabs hold of that crank +like the idea was to see if he could upset the car in three twists. He +gives it a turn, and I guess the Kid had got to monkeyin' around them +little buttons on the steerin' wheel because it went off like a cannon. +First, there was a great big bang! And then a cloud of smoke rolls out +of the back of the car and the bird that had wound the thing up come to +in an oil can, half way across the floor. The Kid fell off the seat +and me and I. Markowitz busted the hundred yard record to the front +door. +</P> + +<P> +"That was a rotten trick, wasn't it?" I asks him when we stopped. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you talk tricks?" he pants. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," I tells him, "puttin' that dynamite in the hood!" +</P> + +<P> +"That wasn't dynamite," he says. "She only backfired a little. I +wouldn't be surprised if it turned out there was, now, too much air in +the carburetor. The only reason I ran out here is because I seen it +passin' a friend of mine and—" +</P> + +<P> +"I know," I cuts him off. "I seen it too!" +</P> + +<P> +We go back to the Kid and his play toy, and he's leanin' up against the +side of it rubbin' his shoulder and scowlin'. +</P> + +<P> +"What kind of stuff was that, eh?" he growls at I. Markowitz. "I liked +to broke my neck!" +</P> + +<P> +"'Snothin'!" says he, pattin' the Kid on the back and smilin'. "You +could do that with a new car, you could take my word for it. It's all, +now, experience!" He looks around. "Herschel!" he hollers. +</P> + +<P> +It turns out that Herschel is the guy that had wound the thing up, and +he gets out of the oil can and comes over, mutterin' to himself and +glarin' at all of us. He takes off the hood and stalls around it with +a hammer and a monkey wrench for a minute, still mutterin' away, and +you could see he wasn't wishin' us no luck. Finally, he puts the hood +on again and walks around to the crank. +</P> + +<P> +"As soon as you could hear it buzz," he grunts at the Kid, "you should +give her some gas." +</P> + +<P> +I stood aside and picked out my exit, and I. Markowitz seen his friend +passin' again so he started for the door. The Kid says we're both +yellah and climbs gamely back into the seat. Herschel stops mutterin' +long enough to give the crank a turn, which same he did. This time +there was no shots fired, but the thing begins the darndest racket I +ever heard in my life. A boiler factory would have quit cold alongside +of that motor and a cavalry charge would have gone unnoticed on the +same floor. I asked I. Markowitz what broke, and he says nothin' but +that the noise is caused by the motor bein' so powerful, fifty horse +power, he claimed. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't tell me," I says, backin' away from the thing, "that no +fifty horses could make that much noise, not even if they was crazy! +The guy that brought that in here must have tied a lot of machine guns +together with a fuse and Stupid there set 'em off when he turned the +crank!" +</P> + +<P> +He runs around to the side where the Kid is and shuts down the gas and +I seen half of Frisco lookin' in the door, figurin' the Japs had got +started at last, or else somebody was puttin' on a dress rehearsal of +the Civil War. +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't she a beauty?" screams I. Markowitz to the Kid, barely makin' +himself heard over the din. "Give a listen how that motor turns +over—not a break or a miss and as smooth like glass! That's hittin' +on six, all right!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm glad to hear that," I says. "I'm glad it's only six, because the +thing will have to quit pretty soon. There ain't no six nothin's could +stand up under that hittin' much longer!" +</P> + +<P> +I. Markowitz steps on the runnin' board and holds on with both hands. +He had to, because that motor had got the car doin' a muscle dance. +</P> + +<P> +"Where d'ye want to go?" he yells to the Kid. "I'll have Herschel take +you out so he should show you everything." +</P> + +<P> +"Tell him to wash his face instead!" the Kid hollers back. "I don't +need nobody to show me nothin' about a car. Come on!" he yells at me. +"All aboard for Film City!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ha! Ha!" I sneers. "Rave on! I wouldn't get in that thing for +Rockefeller's bankroll!" +</P> + +<P> +I had to holler at the top of my voice to drown out that motor. +</P> + +<P> +"C'mon!" yells the Kid. "Don't be so yellah—you got everybody lookin' +at you. She's all right now, and as soon as she gets warmed up she'll +be rollin' along in great shape!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" I says. "And so will I—in a day coach of the Sante Fe!" +</P> + +<P> +Well, he coaxed, threatened and so-forthed me, until finally I took a +chance and climbed in beside him. The populace at the doors give three +cheers and wished us good luck as we banged and rattled through their +midst. We went on down the street, attractin' no more attention than +the German army would in London, and every time we turned a new corner +people run out of their houses to see was there a parade comin'. We +passed several sure enough automobiles and they sneered at us, and one +of them little flivvers got so upset by the noise that it blowed out a +tire as we went by. Finally, we come to the city line and the Kid says +he figures it's about time to see can the thing travel. He monkeys +around them strange buttons on the steerin' wheel, pulls a handle here +and there and presses a lever with his foot. The minute he did that we +got action! That disappearin' cannon in the back went off three times +and I bet it blowed up all the buildin's in the block. There was a +horse and buggy passin' at the time and the guy that was drivin' it +don't know what happened yet, because at the first bang, that horse +started for the old country and it must have been Lou Dillon—believe +me, it could run! I looked back and watched it. A big cloud of smoke +rolls up from the back of the car, and I seen guys runnin' out of +stores and wavin' to us with their fists and then a couple of brave and +bold motorcycle cops jumps on their fiery steeds and falls in behind. +</P> + +<P> +I guess the ex-owner of this bus was on the level at that about doin' +them forty-five thousand miles in a week, because this car could have +beat a telegram across the country, "when she got warmed up!" as I. +Markowitz says. Every one of them six cylinders was in there trying +and when they worked together like little pals and forgot whatever +private quarrels they had, the result was <I>speed</I>, believe me! The Kid +was hangin' on to the steerin' wheel and havin' the time of his young +life and I was hangin' on to the seat and wishin' I had listened to +that insurance agent in New York. We come to the top of a hill and as +we start down the other side the prize boob of the county is waterin' +the pavement around his real estate. When he hears us, he drops the +hose which makes it all wet in front of us. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold tight!" screams the Kid to me. "We're gonna do a piece of +skiddin'. I forgot to get chains!" +</P> + +<P> +Just about then we hit the damp spot and the Kid puts on the brakes. +Sweet Cookie! You should have seen that car! It must have got sore at +the man with the hose and went crazy, because it made eight complete +turns tryin' to get at him and the poor simp was too scared to run. +Finally the thing gives it up and shoots down to the bottom of the +hill. We hit a log and I hit the one-man top. Then the motor calls it +a day and stops dead. The Kid hops out and walks around to the crank. +He gives it a couple of turns and it turns right back at him. He grabs +it again and it was short with a left hook to the jaw, and then the Kid +shakes his head and takes off one side of the hood. He sticks his hand +down inside and pulls out a little brown thing that looks like a cup +with a cover on it. +</P> + +<P> +"No wonder she stopped!" he says, holdin' it up. "Look what I just +found in here." +</P> + +<P> +I give it the once over. +</P> + +<P> +"What d'ye think of that, eh?" he says. "It's a wonder she run at all! +I'll bet that boob mechanic left that in there when he started us off +at the garage." He throws the thing in a ditch and puts the hood on. +"Now," he says, "we're off for Film City!" +</P> + +<P> +He grabs hold of the crank and gives it about eleven whirls, but there +ain't a thing doin' and while we're stuck there like that, along comes +a guy in another car. +</P> + +<P> +"Can I help you fellows out?" he hollers. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" I yells back. "Have you got a rope?" +</P> + +<P> +He comes over and looks at the thing. +</P> + +<P> +"What seems to be the trouble?" he asks the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothin' in particular," the Kid tells him. "She's a great little car +only we can't get her goin'." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you got gas?" asks the stranger. +</P> + +<P> +"Plenty!" says the Kid. "D'ye think I would try to run a car without +gasoline?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," says the other guy. "I never seen you before! Is your +spark all right?" +</P> + +<P> +"A number one!" pipes the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +"And she won't run?" he asks. +</P> + +<P> +"She won't run!" we both says together. +</P> + +<P> +"Hmph!" he snorts, scratchin' his head. He opens the hood and fusses +around on both sides for a minute and then he rubs the side of his nose +with his finger. He looks like he was up against a tough proposition. +</P> + +<P> +"How far have you run this car?" he asks the Kid finally. +</P> + +<P> +"All the way from Frisco," answers the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +"Like this?" he says, pointin' to the motor. +</P> + +<P> +"No!" I cuts in. "It was movin'." +</P> + +<P> +"Why you couldn't have gone three feet with this car!" he busts out +suddenly. "I never seen nothin' like this before in my life!" +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you go out at nights, then?" growls the Kid, gettin' sore. +"Stop knockin' and tell us what's the matter with it." +</P> + +<P> +"There ain't nothin' the matter with it," says the other guy with an +odd little grin. "Not a thing—<I>only it ain't got no carburetor in it, +that's all</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +If he figured on creatin' a sensation on that remark—and from the way +he said it, he did—he lost the bet. The Kid just gives him the baby +stare and shrugs his shoulders like it's past him. +</P> + +<P> +"No which?" he says. +</P> + +<P> +"Carburetor!" explains the native. "The little cup where your gasoline +mixes with the air to start the motor." +</P> + +<P> +The Kid claps his hands together and yells, +</P> + +<P> +"That little crook back in Frisco must have held out on me!" +</P> + +<P> +But I had been doin' some thinkin' and I looks the Kid in the eye, +</P> + +<P> +"What does this carburetor thing look like?" I asks the other guy. +</P> + +<P> +He describes it to me, and when he got all through I gives the Kid +another meanin' look and walks over to the ditch. After pawin' around +in the mud for a while I found the little cup the Kid had throwed away. +</P> + +<P> +"Is this it?" I asks the native. +</P> + +<P> +"It is," he says. "What was it doin' over there?" +</P> + +<P> +"It must have fell off!" answers the Kid quickly, kickin' at me to keep +quiet. +</P> + +<P> +Well, this guy finally fixes us up and about an hour later we hit the +little road that leads into Film City, without havin' no further +mishaps except the noise from that motor. About half a mile from the +gates I seen a familiar lookin' guy standin' in the middle of the road +and wavin' his hands at us. +</P> + +<P> +"Slow up!" I says to the Kid. "Here's Genaro!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid reaches down to the side of his seat and yanks a handle that +was stickin' up. It come right off in his hand and we kept right on +goin'. +</P> + +<P> +"That's funny!" says the Kid, holdin' up the handle and lookin' at it +like it's the first one he ever seen. "We should have stopped right +away—that's the emergency brake!" +</P> + +<P> +He stamps on the floor with his foot a couple of times and shuts off +the gas. We drift right on, and, if Genaro had had rheumatism, he +would have been killed outright. As it was, he jumped aside just in +time and the car comes to a stop of its own free will about twenty feet +past him down the road. +</P> + +<P> +"What's a mat?" yells Genaro, rushin' up to us. "Why you no stoppa the +car when you see me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't they stop prohibition?" I hollers back at him. "We must +have lost the stopper off this one, we—" +</P> + +<P> +But he runs around the other side to where the Kid is sitting examinin' +all them handles and buttons. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Sapristi</I>!" he yells at the Kid. "Where you go, Meester Kid Scanlan? +Everybody she's a look for you—Meester Potts he'sa want you right +away! We starta firsta reel of your picture to-day. Everybody she'sa +got to wait for you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Keep your shirt on!" growls the Kid. "You told me this mornin' I had +lots of time, didn't you?" +</P> + +<P> +Genaro grabs hold of a tree and does a little dance. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha!" he remarks to the sky. "He'sa make me crazee! What you care +what I tole you this a morning? Joosta now I want you queek! You maka +mucha talk with me while Meester Potts and everybody she'sa wait for +you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," says the Kid. "Get in here and we'll go there right away." +</P> + +<P> +Genaro climbs in the back of the car. +</P> + +<P> +"Hurry up!" he says, holdin' his ears. "Anything so she'a stop that +terrible noise. Hurry up!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll do that little thing!" pipes the Kid—and we was off. +</P> + +<P> +I climbed over the seat and in the back with Genaro so's he wouldn't +feel lonesome, and, so's if the Kid hit anything, I'd have a little +more percentage in my favor. Genaro seems to be sore about something +and to make conversation I ask him what's the matter. +</P> + +<P> +"Everything she's the matter!" he tells me, while the Kid keeps his +foot on the gas and we bump and clatter along the road. "Everything +she's the matter! I work all morning on lasta reel of 'The Escapes of +Eva.' Got two hundred extra people stand around do nothing. De +Vronde, the bigga bunk, he's a play lead with Miss Vincent." He stops +and kisses his hand at a tree we was passing "Ah!" he goes on. "She'sa +fina girl! Some time maybe I ask her—pardone, I talka too fast! +Lasta reel De Vronde he'sa get what you call lynched. They putta rope +around he'sa neck and he's a stand under bigga tree. Joosta as they +pulla rope to keel him, Miss Vincent," he throws another kiss at a +tree. "Ah! sucha fina girl!" he whispers at me rollin' his eyes. +"Sometime I—pardone, everytime I forget! Miss Vincent she'sa come +along on horse and sava he'sa life—you see?" +</P> + +<P> +"I got you!" I tells him. "Then what happens?" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Sapristi</I>!" he says. "That's all! What you want for five reels? +But thisa morning, Meester Potts he'sa come up and watch. He'sa +president of company and knows much about money, but acting—bah! he'sa +know nothing! Gotta three year old boy he'sa know more! He'sa standa +there and smile and rub he'sa hands together lika barber while we taka +lasta reel. Everything she'sa fine till we come to place where De +Vronde he'sa get lynch and Miss Vincent—ah!—she'sa come up on horse +and sava him. Then Meester Potts he'sa rush over and stoppa the +cameras. 'No!' he'sa yell. 'No, by Heaven, I won't stand for that! +That's a rotten! You got to get difference ending froma that!'" +</P> + +<P> +"What was the matter?" I asks him. "Didn't he want De Vronde saved?" +</P> + +<P> +His shoulders does one of them muscle dances. +</P> + +<P> +"Ask me!" he says. "I couldn't tella you! He'sa know nothing about +art! Joosta money—that's all. He'sa tella me girl saving leading man +from lynch lika that is old as he'sa fren' Methuselah! He'sa want +something new for finish that picture—bran' new, he'sa holler or no +picture! All morning I worka, worka, worka, he'sa maka faces at +everything I do!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well!" I says. "If you—" +</P> + +<P> +I happened to look up just then and I seen the well known gates of Film +City about a hundred yards away, and if we was makin' a mile an hour, +we was makin' fifty. I leaned over and tapped the Kid on the shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you think you had better slow up a trifle?" I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't <I>think</I> nothin' about it!" he throws over his shoulder. "I +<I>know</I> it! I been tryin' to stop this thing for the last fifteen +minutes and there's nothin' doin'!" +</P> + +<P> +"Throw her in reverse!" I screams, as them great big iron gates looms +up over the front mud guards. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't!" he shouts. "The darned thing's stuck in high and I can't +budge it!" +</P> + +<P> +One of them gates was open and the Kid steers for it, while I closed my +eyes and give myself over to prayer. We shot through leavin' one lamp, +both mudguards and a runnin' board behind. +</P> + +<P> +"Hey!" yells Genaro. "What's a mat? Thisa too fasta for me! Stoppa +the car before something she'sa happen!" +</P> + +<P> +"Somethin' she'sa gonna happen right now!" I says. "Be seated!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid swings around a corner and everybody in Film City is either +lookin', runnin' or yellin' after us. I often wondered what a wide +berth meant, and I found out that afternoon. That's what everybody in +the place give us when we come through there hittin' on six as I. +Markowitz would remark. A guy made up like a Indian chief jumped +behind a tree and we only missed him by dumb luck. +</P> + +<P> +"Hey!" he yells after us. "Are you fellows crazy? Look out for the +Moorish Castle!" +</P> + +<P> +I yelled back that we wouldn't miss nothin' of interest, if we could +help it and the gas held out, and just then I got a flash at the +Moorish Castle. It had been built the day before for a big five reel +thriller that Genaro was gonna produce and I understand he was very +partial to it. As soon as he sees it he jumps up in the back of the +car and slaps the Kid on the shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"Hey, crazee man!" he hollers. "Stoppa the car, I, Genaro, command it! +Don't toucha my castle!" his voice goes off in a shriek. +"<I>Sapristi</I>!—I—" +</P> + +<P> +That was all he said just then, because we went through the Moorish +Castle like a cyclone through Kansas, and as we come out on the other +side the whole thing tumbled down, bringin' with it a couple of Chinese +pagodas that had just come from the paint shop. All we lost was half +of the radiator and the windshield. The Kid pulls a kind of a sick +grin and licks his lips. +</P> + +<P> +"Some car, eh?" he says, takin' a fresh grip on the steerin' wheel. +</P> + +<P> +I missed Genaro and lookin' back through the dust I seen him draped +over a fence with his head touchin' the ground and his feet up in the +air. A lot of daredevils was runnin' towards us and yellin' murder. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's Genaro?" asks the Kid, as we miss a tree by a half inch. +</P> + +<P> +I shivered and told him. +</P> + +<P> +"The big quitter!" snarls the Kid. "Left us flat the minute somethin' +happened, eh? I always knew that guy was yellah!" +</P> + +<P> +We shot across the African Desert and comin' around another turn we +bust right into "The Escapes of Eva." There's about two hundred supers +dressed like cowboys and Duke, Genaro's assistant, is up on a little +platform with the Big Boss Potts, directin' the thing. De Vronde is +under a tree with a rope around his neck and another one that don't +show in the picture under his arms so's he can be pulled up and it will +look like he was bein' lynched. A little ways up the road is Miss +Vincent on a horse, ready to make her dash to save De Vronde's life. +</P> + +<P> +As all this comes into view, the Kid swings around on me and shoves +somethin' big and round in my face. +</P> + +<P> +"Now!" he hollers. "We're up against it for real! The steerin' wheel +come off!" +</P> + +<P> +I pushed open the door on the side and stood on the runnin' board. +</P> + +<P> +"Let me know how you make out!" I yells. "I got enough!" +</P> + +<P> +With that I jumps. +</P> + +<P> +Just as I hit the ground, I hear Duke yellin' through a megaphone. +</P> + +<P> +"C'mon, now—gimme action! Hey! Get two of those cameras at an angle. +When I say 'Shoot!' you, Nelson, and Hardy pull that rope so De Vronde +swings about five feet clear of the ground! Be sure the rope is under +his arms, too! Hey, you extra people—a little ginger there! This is +a lynching not a spelling bee! Dance around some—yell! That's it. +Now, all ready?" He blows the whistle. "Shoot!" he yells, "and gimme +all you got!" +</P> + +<P> +Well, the Kid did what he could—he blowed the little trick horn on the +side of the car about a second before he shot into the mob. Them +bloodthirsty outlaws just melted away before him, and them that was +slow-witted was picked up and tossed to one side before they knowed +what hit 'em. They's a big stone wall at the other side of the tree +and that's where the Kid was headed for. Just as he sails under De +Vronde, who's hangin' from the rope over his head, the Kid sees the +wall, grabs De Vronde by the legs and hangs there, lettin' that crazy, +six cylinder A. G. F. proceed without him. De Vronde and the Kid +crashes to the ground and the car dashed its brains out against the +wall. +</P> + +<P> +While great excitement is bein' had by all, Duke jumps from the +platform to tell the camera men to cease firin' and a handful of actors +runs over to jimmy the Kid and De Vronde apart. I thought this Duke +guy was gonna explode, on the level it was two minutes before he could +speak. +</P> + +<P> +"What d'ye mean, you ivory-headed simp?" he screams at the Kid, +finally. "What d'ye mean by that? You've ruined a hundred feet of +film, you—" +</P> + +<P> +I hear somebody puffin' along beside me as I come runnin' up and I see +it's Potts. He's red in the face and mumblin' somethin' to himself as +he waddles along. I felt real sorry for the Kid—car and job, both +gone! Potts rushes up and grabs Duke by the shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +"There!" he yells, pointin' to the Kid. "There stands a man that knows +more about the picture game than the whole infernal lot of you! +<I>That's the kind of a finish I've been trying to get for this picture +all morning</I>!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +PLEASURE ISLAND +</H4> + +<P> +Speakin' of boobs, as people will, did you ever figure what would +happen if the production of 'em would suddenly cease? Heh? Where +would this or any other country be, if all the voters was wise guys and +the suckers was all dead? +</P> + +<P> +In the first place, there wouldn't have been no ex-Land of the Rave and +Home of the Spree, if Queen Isabella hadn't been boob enough to fall +for Columbus's stuff, about would she stake him and his gang of rough +and readys to a couple of ferryboats and they'd go out and bring back +Chicago. Even old Chris himself was looked on as Kid Stupid, because +he claimed the earth was round. The gang he trailed with had it +figured as bein' square like their heads. +</P> + +<P> +The guy that invented the airship was doped out as a boob until the +thing begin to fly, the bird that turned out the first steamboat was +called a potterin' old simp and let him alone and he'd kill +himself—and that's the way it goes. +</P> + +<P> +The sucker is the boy that keeps the wise guys alive. He'll try +anything once, and it don't make no difference to him whether it's +three-card monte or a new kind of submarine. He's the guy that built +all the fancy bridges, the big buildin's, fought and won the wars that +the wise guys started, and fixed things generally so that to-day you +can push a little trick electric button and get anything from a piece +of pie to a divorce. He's the simp that falls for the new minin' +company stock, grins when the wise guys explain to him just how many +kinds of a sucker he is, and then clips coupons while <I>they're</I> gettin' +up early to read the want ads. He's the baby that's done everything +that couldn't be did. +</P> + +<P> +That's the boob! +</P> + +<P> +The boob is the guy that takes all the chances and makes it possible +for old Kid World to keep goin' forward instead of standin' still. Any +burg that's got a couple of sure enough eighteen-carat boobs in it, +known to the trade as suckers, has got a chance. +</P> + +<P> +So the next time somebody calls you a big boob, don't get sore—thank +him. He's boostin' you! +</P> + +<P> +Gimme ten boobs in back of me and I'll take a town, because they'll +take a chance. Gimme a hundred wise guys and the town'll take <I>us</I>, +because them birds will have to stop and figure what's the use of +startin' somethin'. +</P> + +<P> +Me for the boobs! +</P> + +<P> +Kid Scanlan was a boob. He was a great battler, a regular fellow and +all like that, but he was a boob just the same. He started fightin' +because he was simp enough to take a chance of havin' his features +altered, and he won the title through bein' stupid enough to mix it +with the welterweight champion. I was the wise guy of the party, +always playin' it safe and seein' what made it go, before I'd take a +chance. But the Kid got a whole lot further than I ever will. He made +a name for himself in the ring and another in the movies and I ain't +champion of <I>nothin'</I>—I'm just <I>with</I> Scanlan, that's all. +</P> + +<P> +I'm gettin' offers from promoters here and there to have him start +against some set up for money that was sinful to refuse, but there's +nothin' doin'. The Kid has took to bein' an actor like they did to +gunpowder in Europe, and not only he won't fight, I can't even get him +mad! +</P> + +<P> +"I'm off that roughneck stuff!" he tells me. "Nobody ever got nothin' +by fightin'. Look what it did to Willard! Besides," he goes on, "what +would John Drew and them guys think of me, if it should leak out that I +had give in to box fightin' again? Why they'd be off me for life! +Nope, let 'em battle in Russia, I'm through!" +</P> + +<P> +Fine for a champion, eh? +</P> + +<P> +Now here's a guy that went to the top in the one game where you can't +luck your way over. Because he was a fightin' fool, the 'Kid had +right-crossed his way to the title and now that he was up there, the +big stiff wouldn't look at a glove! No! he was a actor now! I'd tell +him that Kid Whosthis had flattened Battlin' McGluke the night before +and we could get ten thousand to go six rounds with the winner. He'd +flick the ash off a gold-tipped cigarette and say, +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" Then he'd grab me by the shoulder and pour this in my ear. +"Did you get me in that Shakespeare picture last week? I hear the guy +that writes up shows for the Peoria <I>Gazette</I> claims Mansfield had +nothin' on me!" +</P> + +<P> +A few months before he would have said somethin' like this, +</P> + +<P> +"All right! Wire the club we'll fight him, and if I don't bounce that +tramp in two rounds, I'll give my end to them starvin' Armenians!" +</P> + +<P> +Now I didn't kick when the Kid falls for Miss Vincent, because I had +seen Miss Vincent, and the Kid was only human. I didn't say nothin' +when he staked himself to that second-hand auto that like to wrecked +California, but when he pulls this actor thing on me and says pugilism, +<I>pugilism</I>, mind you, ought to be discouraged—I figured it was about +time for yours in the faith to step in. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid had two ambitions in life, both of which he picked up at Film +City. One was to be the greatest movie hero that ever flattened a +villain, and the other was to ease himself into the Golden West Club. +</P> + +<P> +The Golden West Club was over in Frisco, and as far as the average guy +was concerned it could have been in Iceland. It was about as easy to +get into that joint as it is to get into Heaven, and it was also the +only other place where you couldn't buy your way in. Your name had to +be Fortescue-Smith or Van Whosthis, and you had to look it. You had to +be partial to tea, wrist watches, dancin', opera, tennis and the like, +and to top it all off you had to be a distant relative to a hick called +William the Conqueror, who I hear was light heavy-weight champ in days +of old. If you checked up all right on them little details, they took +a vote on you. If you was lucky, you got a letter in a few weeks later +sayin' your application was bein' considered and you might get in, but +not to bank on it, because they was havin' trouble connectin' up your +grandfather with the rest of the family tree, it bein' said around that +he made his money through work. +</P> + +<P> +That was the place Kid Scanlan wanted to bust into! +</P> + +<P> +One night he gets all dressed up like a horse in one of them soup and +fish layouts, and he hires a guy to drive him over to the Golden West +Club in that second-hand A. G. F. he had. I will say the Kid went into +the thing in a big way, payin' seventy-five bucks for a dress suit and +ten more for the whitest shirt I ever seen in my life. He sends in +eight berries for a hack-driver's hat and seven for a pair of tan +shoes. Then he climbs into his bus and tells the driver, "Let's go!" +Before he pulled out, he told me they was so many guys belonged to the +thing that he figured he could mix around for a few minutes without +anybody gettin' wise that he wasn't a regular member, if he could only +breeze past the jobbie on the door. +</P> + +<P> +And outside of the shoes, which I thought was a trifle noisy, the Kid +sized up like any of the real club members I had seen, except his chest +wasn't so narrow and he had an intelligent look. +</P> + +<P> +Well, he blowed in about twelve o'clock and come up to the rooms we had +at the hotel in Film City. He stands in the middle of the bedroom, +takes off this trick silk hat, and, puttin' everything he had on the +throw, he pitched it into the bathtub. He slammed that open-faced coat +in a corner and in a minute it was followed by them full-dress pants. +The gleamin' white shirt skidded under the bed, neck and neck with the +shoes. I didn't say a word while he was abusin' them clothes, but I +was so happy I felt like cheerin', because they was somethin' in the +Kid's face I hadn't seen there since we hit the movies. The last time +I had caught him lookin' like that was when One-Punch Ross had dropped +him with a left hook, just before the Kid won the title. When the Kid +got to his feet that there look was on his face and two seconds later +he was welterweight champion of the world and points adjacent. +</P> + +<P> +He inserts himself into his pyjamas and then he swings around on me. +</P> + +<P> +"How much did they offer us at the Garden for ten rounds with Battlin' +Edwards?" he wants to know. +</P> + +<P> +I liked to fell out of the bed! +</P> + +<P> +"Eight thousand, with a privilege of thirty per cent of the gross," I +says, gettin' off of the hay. "Will I wire 'em?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yep!" he snaps out. "Tell 'em I'll fight Edwards two weeks after I +get through here!" +</P> + +<P> +"And when will that be, might I ask?" I says, ringin' for a messenger +and tryin' to keep from dancin' a jig. +</P> + +<P> +"As soon as them simps finish that picture, 'How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title,'" he tells me. "Genaro says he'll start it to-morrow, and as +soon as it's through, so am I—here!" +</P> + +<P> +I didn't get the answer to all this until the Kid crawls into the hay +half a hour later, scowlin' and mutterin' to himself. I took a good +look at him and then I says, +</P> + +<P> +"Speakin' of clubs and stuff like that, how did you make out at that +Golden West joint to-night?" +</P> + +<P> +He sits right up in the bed. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you tryin' to kid somebody?" he snarls. +</P> + +<P> +"I asked you a civil question, you big stiff!" I comes back, "and don't +be comin' around here and slippin' <I>me</I> that rough stuff! If you can +be a gentleman at your clubs and joints like that, you want to be one +here! D'ye get that?" +</P> + +<P> +He looks at me for a minute and seein' I'm serious, he growls, +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you had heard about it!" Then he props himself up with the +pillows and begins, "I went over there to-night and them boobs was +havin' a racket of some kind, I guess, because all the automobiles in +the West was lined up outside the doors of the club. I tried to horn +in the line with that boat of mine and the biggest nigger in the world, +dressed up like a band leader, comes over and wants to know if I'm a +guest. I told him no, that I was a movie actor and to step one side or +he'd break the headlights when I hit him. He claims I can't get in the +line without I got a ticket showin' I'm a guest. I got tired of his +chatter, so I dropped him with a short left swing and we keep on goin' +till we wind up at the front door. This stupid simp I had drivin' my +bus is lookin' at the swell dames goin' in, instead of at the emergency +brake, and he forgets to stop the thing till we have took off the rear +end of a car in front of us and busted my front mudguard again. +</P> + +<P> +"While the chiffure of the wreck is moanin' to my guy about it, I +ducked out the side and blowed around to the entrance. I figured they +was a password of some kind, so I says to the big hick at the gate, +'Ephus Doffus Loffus,' and pushes past him, I guess he was surprised at +me bein' a stranger and knowin' the ropes at that, because I seen him +lookin' after me when I beat it up the first stairway to the second +floor. I got a flash at myself in a mirror as I breeze past, and, if I +do say it myself, I was there forty ways. I was simply a knockout in +that evenin' dress thing! A swell-lookin' guy pipes me at the top of +the stairs and, after givin' me the once over, he taps me on the arm. +</P> + +<P> +"'You may bring me a glawss of Appollinaris, my man,' he says, 'and for +heaven sake remove those yellow shoes!' +</P> + +<P> +"With that he walks away and another guy comes up and whistles at me. +When I turn around, he's givin' me the up and down through a glass +thing he's got hung over one eye. +</P> + +<P> +"'Bring up a box of perfectos at once!' he pipes. 'Come! Look alive +now!' +</P> + +<P> +"Then I got it! <I>I</I> thought I was knockin' 'em dead and these guys +thought I was a waiter! Well, I thinks, I'll show them boobs somethin' +before I take the air—I can pull that stuff <I>myself</I>! With that I +breezes into the next room and there's a hick sittin' at a table, +toyin' with a book. He was as near nothin' as anything I ever seen, on +the level! He's got a swell dress suit on, but it didn't fit him no +better than mine did me and it couldn't have cost no more or he would +have killed the tailor. Outside of the shoes, mine bein' classier, we +was both made up the same. A guy comes in, looks him over for a minute +and then he yawns. 'Bored?' he says. The simp that was sittin' down +looks back at him, yawns and says, 'Frightfully.' Then the other guy +bows at him and goes out. Some other hick wanders in and says, 'Ah, +Van Stuyvessant, bored?' and Stupid says, 'Frightfully' and the other +guy blows out. I seen that the coast was clear, so I smoothed my hair, +pulled down my vest and throwed my chest out like them other guys did. +Then I breezed in and stopped before this guy. He yawns and looks up +at me very dignified like he was sittin' in the Night Court and I was +up before him for the third time in a week. +</P> + +<P> +"'Hey, Stupid!' I says. 'Get me a gin fizz and don't make it too +sweet! And for heaven's sakes get rid of that shirt!' +</P> + +<P> +"I thought he was goin' to get the apoplexy or somethin', because his +face is as red as a four-alarm fire. Then he says, +</P> + +<P> +"'Why—what—how dare you, you insolent puppy!' +</P> + +<P> +"I leaned on his shoulder and tapped him on the end of the beak with my +thumb. +</P> + +<P> +"'Lay off that stuff, Simple,' I tells him. 'I'm a guest here and a +couple of hicks took me for a waiter. I'm just gettin' even, that's +all. If you don't get me that gin fizz like I asked you, I'll knock +you for a goal!' +</P> + +<P> +"He gets as white as my shirt and presses a little button on the table. +A big husky, made up like a Winter Garden chorus man, runs in and +Stupid says, 'Eject this ruffian, Simms! And then you will answer to +me for allowing him to enter!' +</P> + +<P> +"Simms was game, but a poor worker, so I feinted him over in front of +his master and then I flattened him with a left and right to the jaw. +I took it on the run then and got out the back way!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid stops and heaves a sigh. +</P> + +<P> +"And then what?" I encourages him. +</P> + +<P> +"And then nothin'!" he says. "That's all! Except I'm off the Golden +West Club, the movies and this part of the country! I got enough. +Them guys over there to-night gimme the tip-off—I don't belong, that's +all! I was a sucker to ever stop fightin' to be a actor, but I got +wise in time. You go ahead and sign me right up with anybody but +Dempsey, and if Genaro don't start my picture to-morrow, I'll give 'em +back their money and you and me will leave the Golden West flat on its +back!" +</P> + +<P> +Say! I was so happy I couldn't sleep. I just turned over on my side +and registered joy all night long! +</P> + +<P> +The next mornin' we go to Genaro the first thing, and the Kid puts it +up to him right off the bat. Either he starts "How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title" or he kisses us good-by. Genaro raves and pulls his hair for +awhile, but they ain't no more give to the Kid than they is to marble +and finally Genaro says he'll start the picture right away. +</P> + +<P> +We find out that another director is usin' the whole camp to put on a +trick called "The Fall of Babylon," so we got to go over to an island +in the well known Pacific Ocean and take what they call exteriors +there. They rounded up Miss Vincent, De Vronde, the cuckoo that wrote +the thing, and about a hundred other people and load us all on a yacht +belongin' to Potts. We're gonna stay on this trick island till the +picture is finished, and we eat and sleep on the yacht. +</P> + +<P> +On the trip over, we all go down in what Potts claims is the grand +saloon and Van Aylstyne, the hick that wrote the picture, reads it to +us. It starts off showin' the Kid workin' in a pickle factory on the +East Side in New York. They're only slippin' him five berries a week +and out of that he's keepin' his widowed mother and seven of her +children. One day he finds a newspaper and all over the front page is +a article tellin' about all the money the welterweight champion is +makin', so the Kid figures the pickle game is no place for a young +feller with his talent, and decides to become welterweight champ. +First he tries himself out by slammin' the guy he's workin' for, after +catchin' him insultin' the stenographer by askin' her to take a ride in +his runabout, when the buyer is already takin' her out in his +limousine. When the boss comes back to life, he fires the Kid and our +hero goes out and knocks down a few odd brutes here and there for +gettin' fresh with innocent chorus girls and the like. Finally, he +practically wrecks a swell gamblin' joint where he has gone to rescue +his girl, which had been lured there by the handsome stranger from the +city. +</P> + +<P> +"Well!" says Potts, when Van Aylstyne gets finished. "How does that +strike you?" +</P> + +<P> +"What I like," pipes Miss Vincent, with a funny little quirk of her lip +and a wink at De Vronde. "What I like is its daring originality!" +</P> + +<P> +Van Aylstyne stiffens up. +</P> + +<P> +"Of course," he says, kinda sore, "if I'm to be criticised by—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't they no villains or nothin' like that in it?" butts in the Kid, +frownin' at him. +</P> + +<P> +"Joosta one minoote!" says Genaro. "Don't get excite! That's joosta +firsta reel!" +</P> + +<P> +He waves his hand at Van Aylstyne, and this guy gives a couple of +glares all around and then turns over another page. It seems at this +stage of the game, a lot of gunmen get together to stop the Kid from +winnin' the title, so they throw him off a cliff. He gets up, dusts +off his clothes, registers anger and flattens half a dozen of 'em. A +little bit later he gets fastened to a railroad track and the fast mail +runs over him. This makes him peeved, and he gets up and wallops a +couple of tramps that's passing for luck. Then the villain's gang of +rough and readys grabs him again and he is throwed off a ship into the +ocean. A guy comes along in a motor boat, and, after shootin' a few +times at the Kid without actually killin' him, registers surprise and +runs over him. When the Kid comes up there ain't nothin' to wallop, so +he swims six miles to the island. The minute he crawls on the beach he +faces the camera and registers exhaustion. Then a lot of guys jump out +and stab him. He knocks 'em all cold and then he goes on, fights the +champ and wins the title. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that all there is to it?" asks the Kid, when Van Aylstyne stops for +breath and applause. +</P> + +<P> +"Practically all," Van Aylstyne tells him. "Of course I'll have to go +over it and spice it up a little more—get more action in it here and +there, wherever it appears to drag. But we can do this as we go along." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" says Potts. "You'll have to do that. I want this picture to be +the thriller of the year!" He scratches his chin for a minute and +looks at Van Aylstyne. "You better ginger it up a bit at that!" he +goes on. "It sounds a little tame to me. See if you can't work in a +couple of spectacular fires, a sensational runaway with Mr. Scanlan +being dragged along the ground, or you might have him do a slide for +life from the topmast of the yacht to one of the trees along the shore +here." +</P> + +<P> +"Wait!" pipes Genaro. "I have joosta the thing! While I listen, I +getta thisa granda idea! Meester Scanlan, he'sa can be throw from the +airsheep and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Lay off, lay off!" butts in the 'Kid. "They's enough action in that +thing right now to suit me! Don't put nothin' else in it. I'll be +busier than a one-armed paperhanger as it is!" He turns to Van +Aylstyne. "Where d'ye get that stuff?" he scowls. "Would <I>you</I> jump +off a cliff, hey?" +</P> + +<P> +Van Aylstyne throws out his little chest, while the rest of them +snickers. +</P> + +<P> +"I <I>write</I> it!" he says. +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" pipes the Kid. "Well, you'll <I>jump</I> it, too, bo, believe me!" +</P> + +<P> +"What's a mat?" hollers Genaro. "What's a use hava the fighta now? +Wait till we starta the picture, then everybody she'sa fighta! +Something she'sa go wrong. <I>Sapristi</I>! we feexa her then. Joosta +holda tight your horses!" +</P> + +<P> +He pats the Kid on the shoulder and slips him a cigar. +</P> + +<P> +The rest of the trip to the island took about two hours, durin' which +time the Kid and Miss Vincent sat on the top deck, and she give him his +daily lesson in how to speak English, eat soup and a lot more of that +high society stuff. +</P> + +<P> +We finally got to this island place and by three o'clock the next +afternoon they was half way through with the first reel. I horned in +on the thing myself, takin' off a copper, for which they gimme five +bucks even. +</P> + +<P> +That night they was big doings on board the yacht. They had music and +dancin' and what not galore. Van Aylstyne, Potts, De Vronde and most +of the other help was there in the soup and fish and the twenty odd +dames that was actin' in the picture was all dressed up to thrill. I +never seen so much of this here de collect stuff in my life. I heard a +lot of talk around the studios at the camp about "exposures," and, +well, I seen what they meant all right that evenin'. It got me so +dizzy, never havin' no closeups like that before, that I ducked for my +stateroom about nine o'clock when the joy was just beginnin' to be +unconfined and I hadn't been up there five minutes, when the Kid comes +up and knocks at my door. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm goin' to hit the hay," he tells me. "If I gotta fight Battlin' +Edwards in two months, I'm gonna start readyin' up now! I been puttin' +on fat since I been here, and it's got to come off. I'll get up at +five to-morrow and do a gallop around the island, and I just dug up a +couple of ex-bartenders among the extry people which will gimme some +sparrin' practice every mornin' till they give out!" +</P> + +<P> +"Great!" I says. I was hardly able to believe my ears. It sounded +like the old Kid Scanlan again! +</P> + +<P> +I closed the door, and just as he was turnin' away, I heard the swish +of skirts and then I got Miss Vincent's voice. It was low and sweet +and kinda soothin' and—well, she was the kind of dame guys kill each +other for! Do you get me? +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" she kinda breathes. "Why are you up here all alone?" +</P> + +<P> +I heard the Kid's deep breathin'—it was always that way when <I>she</I> +spoke to him, and I knowed without seein' 'em that his nails was +engravin' fancy work on the palm of his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," he says, tryin' to keep his voice steady. "I'm off this tango +thing—and the last time I had one of them dress suits on, I was +mistook for a waiter!" +</P> + +<P> +Y'know there was a funny little catch in the Kid's voice when he pulled +that, although he tried to pass it off by coughin'. That boy sure did +want to mix with the big leaguers, and, bein' Irish, it come hard to +him to miss anything he wanted. Usually he got it! +</P> + +<P> +I heard Miss Vincent sneer. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't flatter these conceit-drugged travesties on the male sex by +caring about anything <I>they</I> say," she tells him. "You have so many +things they never will have! Why, you're a big, clean, two-handed man +and—" She breaks off and gives a giggle that I would have took Verdun +for. "But there!" she goes on. "I—I—guess I'm getting too +enthusiastic!" +</P> + +<P> +I could almost feel her blush, and I knowed how she looked when she did +that thing, so I says, "Good-by, Kid!" +</P> + +<P> +"That's all right!" pipes the Kid. "It wasn't these guys here. But I +can't go downstairs anyhow, because I gotta start trainin' for Battlin' +Edwards." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, bother Battling Edwards!" she says. "I thought you promised me to +give up prize fighting!" +</P> + +<P> +This was a new one on me, and it cleared up a lot of things I hadn't +been able to figure out before! +</P> + +<P> +"I gotta take it back," I hear the Kid sayin' in a kinda dead voice. +"I pulled a bone play when I did that! I can't give up fightin' no +more than you can give up the movies! The only thing I got is a +wallop, and that won't get me nowhere in the movies or society, but it +got me the title in the ring. I guess I'll stick to my own game!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, come!" she tells him, kinda impatient. "You have the blues! +Shake 'em off—I don't like you when you scowl like that. Come on down +and have a dance with me. You'll feel better." +</P> + +<P> +"You said somethin'!" answers the Kid. "But I can't—on the level. I +gotta train for this guy, or he's liable to bounce me, and, if I lose +this quarrel, I'm through! Y'see, this ain't no movie, this is gonna +be the real thing! If this guy flattens me, he'll be the champion and +you <I>know</I> that bird is gonna be in there tryin' till the last bell!" +</P> + +<P> +I peeked through them little wooden cheaters on the window and I seen +her kinda stiffen up and register surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"I am not accustomed to coaxing people to dance with me, Mr. Scanlan," +she says, "and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and I'm not used to havin' dames like <I>you</I> ask me!" butts in the +Kid. "But I gotta beat Edwards—and I can't beat him by stayin' up +late!" +</P> + +<P> +She just breezes past him and down the deck without another word. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid kicks a fire bucket that was standin' there into the Pacific +Ocean, and from the way he slammed the door of his stateroom I'll bet +all them trick beer mugs that Potts had on the wall fell on the floor. +</P> + +<P> +Well, the next mornin' we all go over to the island again and the Kid +is up at daybreak, trottin' over the hills. He's got four sweaters on, +although it's as hot as blazes, and I'm taggin' along in back of him. +Then he comes back, changes his clothes and works in the picture till +noon, when we knock off for the eats. Miss Vincent passed us once when +we was talkin' to Genaro, and she deliberately passed the Kid up! +</P> + +<P> +After that it was suicide to give Scanlan a nasty look. +</P> + +<P> +Along around two o'clock that afternoon, another yacht shows up a +little ways off the island and in a few minutes it stops and five guys +and a woman hops in one of them trick launches and put-puts over to us. +They get out and come up the string-piece and we get a good flash at +them. The male members of the party is all dressed up in blue coats +and white pants and from their general get-up I thought they was all +gonna form a circle, pick up the ends of their coats and pipe. "What +ho, the merry villagers come and we are the daisy maids!" +</P> + +<P> +All but one. He was a great big husky, kinda dark skinned and he +looked like a assassin with the women, know what I mean? Also, I had +seen this bird somewheres before, but I couldn't check him up right off +the bat. The girl that was with the troupe was a good looker all +right, and you could see she was a big-timer. But she was kinda thin +and worn out to the naked eye. And when I got a close-up of her, I +seen there was a funny look in her eyes, like she had been +double-crossed or somethin'. She looked at everything like she wished +it was hers, but there was no chance, d'ye get me? +</P> + +<P> +Well, Potts comes a-runnin' to meet 'em and then he comes up and +introduces 'em all around. He claims they're from Frisco and friends +of his which has come over to see how movin' pictures is made and they +might even go so far as to take off a part in one of 'em, just for the +devilment of it. Miss Vincent looks hard and close at the dark-skinned +guy, like she was tryin' to think where she had seen him before, but +Genaro come along just then and I'll bet them newcomers didn't get no +encouragement from the way <I>he</I> looked 'em over. De Vronde and Van +Aylstyne, though, fell for this bunch so hard they liked to broke their +necks. It seems them two hicks found out they all was members of this +Golden West Club, and they did everything but shine their shoes from +then on. +</P> + +<P> +When the Kid blows in and sees 'em, he claims he remembers 'em all as +bein' among them present the night he went over to the Club, and he +says they had better keep lots of the Golden West between him and them +while they was in our midst. +</P> + +<P> +The tall dark guy, whose name was somethin' like Brown-Smith, took one +flash at Miss Vincent and then everybody else could have been in France +for all the notice <I>he</I> give 'em. He took up his stand about two feet +away from her, and there he stuck all day long like cement. Anybody +could see that this stuff was causin' two people to register worry. +They was the Kid and the dame that come over with the troupe. Scanlan +watches Brown-Smith makin' his play for Miss Vincent, and he seen that +if she wasn't encouragin' him, she wasn't complainin' to the police +either, but the Kid keeps quiet and takes it out in makin' them +sparrin' ex-bartenders tired of life. +</P> + +<P> +The next day I got up early lookin' for the Kid, and as I come through +a clearin' in the island I seen three things at once, and if I hadn't +ducked behind a tree, they'd have seen me. There's my meal ticket with +all his sweaters off, standin' in the middle of the little space, +shadow boxin' in front of a tree. The well known sun is shinin' down +on his blonde head, and I never noticed before just what a handsome +brute the Kid was in action. The muscles in his arms are jumpin' and +ripplin' under a skin that a chorus girl would give five years for, and +he's as graceful and light on his feet as one of them Russian toe +dancers. +</P> + +<P> +The other two things I seen was Miss Vincent and the dame that had +blowed in with the Golden West boys. +</P> + +<P> +The new dame is watchin' the Kid like he was a most pleasin' sight to +them tired little eyes of hers. Her mouth is open a little bit and +there's a kind of wishin' smile on her lips. Y'know she looked like +this was what she wanted ever since she come into the store. Get me? +</P> + +<P> +Miss Vincent is doin' a piece of watchin' herself around the tree +that's between 'em, only she ain't watchin' the Kid. She's watchin' +this new dame, and you can take it from me she was registerin' hate! +That classy little nose of hers is quiverin' and she's bitin' hard on +her lip. Her body was so stiff and straight that, on the level, I +thought she was gonna spring! +</P> + +<P> +The Kid finally stops boxin', puts on his sweaters and then he gets a +flash at the new dame. She calls somethin' to him and he comes +over—then they start back to the yacht together. Miss Vincent ducks +and so did I. I didn't want <I>none</I> of them to see me, because this +thing was gettin' a little too deep for yours in the faith. +</P> + +<P> +They go ahead with another reel of the Kid's picture that morning and +Brown-Smith still keeps hangin' around Miss Vincent like a panhandler +outside a circus, and when she has to come in the picture herself, he +stands on the sidelines beside one of the camera men, with them chorus +men friends of his draped around him. The Kid is goin' through a scene +where he flattens half a dozen guys that are tryin' to discourage him +from fightin' the champ and Brown-Smith is givin' his friends the low +down on it. +</P> + +<P> +"By Jove!" he sneers, just loud enough so's we can all get an earful. +"It nauseates me to see that fellow knocking about those poor devils +who have to do that for a living! Fawncy him doing anything like that +in real life! Why, he would most likely call for the police if some +one slapped his wrist. I know those moving picture heroes!" +</P> + +<P> +This troupe of Sweet Williams around him snickers right out loud in +public at that, like the big guy was simply a knockout as a comedian. +Miss Vincent frowns and the new dame looks kinda worried and nervous, +but the Kid just reddens a bit and continues to swat the supers all +over the lot. Brown-Smith pulls a few more raw cracks like that, +gettin' louder and nastier all the time, and finally he asks Potts to +let him take part in the big scene at the end of the reel where the Kid +is supposed to bounce everybody in the thing but the camera men. He +says it will be great stuff to tell about at the club the first rainy +night and a lot of bunk like that—all the time he's watchin' the Kid +with that nasty sneer on his face. +</P> + +<P> +Potts says all right, and offers to stake him to an old suit of +clothes, but he laughs and says he won't need anything, tossin' his +coat to one side like the acrobat at the theatre flips away his +handkerchief before goin' to work. He rolls up his sleeves and starts +limberin' up his arms in front of Miss Vincent, winkin' at her and +noddin' to the Kid. She looks kinda worried, but her control is good +and she holds fast. She wasn't the only one that looked worried, +believe me! I was doin' that thing myself, because this Brown-Smith +guy had a good thirty pounds on the Kid, and he was built that way all +over, reach, height and everything else. The minute he put up his +hands, I seen two things. First, that he knowed somethin' about box +fightin' and, second, that he was goin' to try and bounce the Kid for +the benefit of Miss Vincent. +</P> + +<P> +While they're gettin' things ready for the massacre, the Kid comes over +to me and says, +</P> + +<P> +"What's the big idea? I know this bird—he's the guy that asked me to +bring him a <I>glawss</I> of Appollinaris that night at the Golden West +Club. If he fusses around me, I'm gonna maul him!" +</P> + +<P> +I knowed <I>that</I> wasn't the reason, because Kid Scanlan could take both +a wallop or a joke. The reason was standin' about three feet away +talkin' to Genaro and she never looked better. Believe me, she had +everything that mornin'! +</P> + +<P> +"Looka thisa bigga boob, Miss Vincent!" Genaro is sayin', wavin' his +arms around and shakin' his head at Brown-Smith. "He'sa wanna get in +my picture so he showa the girls what a bigga fella he is. Meester +Potts he's a go crazee if thisa picture she's a no good. He's a joomp +at me, he's a holler at me and he letta thisa bigga bunk get in it! +Thisa fight, she'sa gotta looka real—not lika the actor, butta <I>real</I>! +Thisa fella he'sa go in slappa Meester Scanlan on he'sa wrist. Meester +Scanlan he'sa no wanna hurt Meester Potts' fren'—you know?—so he'sa +slappa heem back! Everybody she'sa laugh at me when they showa that +picture. Aha! They maka me crazee!" +</P> + +<P> +He runs over to Brown-Smith and grabs his arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Please, Meester!" he begs him, with tears in his eyes. "Please, +Meester, getta gooda and rough with thisa fella!" he points to the Kid. +"Don't be afraid for heem, he's a tougha nut! He's a nevaire geta +hurt! Don't maka thisa fight looka like the act. You rusha heem, +hitta heem, wrestle heem, choka heem, graba heem, bita heem, kicka +heem, anything but keela heem, so thisa picture she looka like reala +fight! Pretty soon, I blowa the whistle. He's a hitta you +easy—so—you falla down. Maka looka good, don't sitta down, falla +down—so!—" Genaro stops and throws himself on the grass and then +hops up again. "You watcha that?" he goes on. "Alla right!" He jumps +away from the cameras and yells, "Hey, Joe! You stanna over there and +shoota this froma the right! Alla right, now everybody! Meester Kid +Scanlan, you ready? Gooda! Come now—cameras—ready—shoot!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid meets the rush of the gang like they had practised it together, +and he floors one after the other of them with snappy left hooks. Of +course he was pullin' his punches and barely touchin' these hicks, but +it looked awful good from front. Then Brown-Smith, who had been +hangin' around on the outside, rushes in. For a guy who had never +tried the thing before, he struck me as bein' real swift at pickin' up +the rules, because he faced the cameras at the right angles and pulled +a lot of fancy stuff that usually nobody but a sure enough movie actor +knows. The Kid sidesteps him and puts a light left to his chin and +Brown-Smith comes back with a right swing that would have floored the +Kid, if it hadn't been too high. The Kid went back on his heels and a +little trickle of claret comes from his lips. Genaro jumps in the air, +clappin' his hands. "Magnificenta!" he yells. Miss Vincent is +breathin' hard and her hands pressed up tight against her chest. Her +face was the color of skimmed milk. Genaro pipes her and grabs a +camera man. "Shoota that—queek!" he hollers, pointin' to her. The +new dame runs over to me and grabs my arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop it!" she whispers, excited like. "You must! Albert will kill +him! He was amateur heavyweight champion once and—oh!—he wants to +beat Mr. Scanlan—he—oh!—" +</P> + +<P> +I heard Miss Vincent give a little yelp, and I shove this dame away +and, believe me, bo, <I>I</I> come near goin' dead on my feet! <I>Because +there's my champ on the ground, layin' flat on his face and he looked +as cold as the North Pole</I>! I started to dash in, but Genaro grabs me +and throws me aside. "Stoppa, fool!" he yells. "Thisa picture she'sa +maka me famous!" +</P> + +<P> +The rest of the mob is too scared to do anything—they knowed that this +was the real thing! The Kid gets up on one knee, and, on the level, +the only sound you could hear was his choked breathin' and the steady +click of the cameras—yes, and I guess the beatin' of my heart! The +Kid is shakin' his head to clear it from that wallop and I yelled to +him to stay down and take his time. He gets half way up and slides +down again flat and Brown-Smith laughs. Then Miss Vincent suddenly +turns, and there's a bucket of ice cold lemonade standin' on a bench +beside her. It had been put there for the extry people. This here +eighteen-carat, regular fellow dame grabs that bucket and throws the +lemonade all over the Kid's head and shoulders! +</P> + +<P> +It braced him like a charge of hop—his head jerked up as it hit him +and he shook off the drops—and in another second he was on his feet, +smilin' the old Scanlan smile and dancin' around this guy who was +rushin' in to finish him. He swings for the Kid's jaw and the Kid, +movin' his head an inch out of the way, puts a hard right and left to +the mouth. Brown-Smith coughed out a tooth that he had no further use +for, and starts backin' away, coverin' up like a crab. The Kid laughs +over at me and sends this guy's head back like it was on a hinge, with +two uppercuts and a right jab. He tries to rush in and grab the Kid, +and Scanlan closes his left eye with the prettiest straight left I ever +seen. He wasn't tryin' to knock this big stiff out, he was +deliberately cuttin' him to pieces in a most cold, workmanlike manner. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Vincent is smilin' now and the other dame—is not! Potts's mouth +is open about five yards and he looks like he don't know whether to +call the police or go back to the box office for a better seat. Then +the Kid starts backin' friend Brown-Smith all over the place, shootin' +lefts and rights at him so fast that I bet he thought it was rainin' +wallops. He begins to register yellah—he gazes around wildly at +Genaro and Genaro reaches for the whistle so's Brown-Smith can quit, +but Miss Vincent sees him reach for it and she knocks it out of his +hand! Genaro looks hard at her and yells to the camera men to keep +turnin' the cranks. Potts starts over, stops, shakes his shoulders and +turns his back. +</P> + +<P> +Then the Kid tips back Brown-Smith's head with a lightnin' right hook +and drops him with a left to the jaw. +</P> + +<P> +They stopped the cameras and everybody give a hand in bringin' the +dashin' Brown-Smith back to the Golden West again. Everybody but me, +the Kid and Miss Vincent. The Kid walks over to Potts and stares at +him. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he says. "I guess I'm through after that, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +Potts slaps him on the back. +</P> + +<P> +"Hardly!" he grins. "That was the greatest piece of acting I ever saw +before a camera!" +</P> + +<P> +Genaro runs up and grabs the Kid's hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Wonderful!" he hollers. "Magnificenta! You are what you calla the +true artiste, Meester Kid Scanlan! That picture she will be the talka +of the country! She'sa maka me famous!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" says the Kid. He turns to me and waves over to where +Brown-Smith is recognizin' relatives and close friends. "That guy has +an awful good left!" he says. He thinks for a minute. "D'ye know," he +goes on, "that hick was <I>tryin'</I>, at that!" +</P> + +<P> +I see Miss Vincent talkin' to Potts and all of a sudden he throws up +his hands and stares over at Brown-Smith. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" he hollers. "Impossible!" +</P> + +<P> +Then he slaps his hands together and laughs out loud. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" he says, holdin' his sides. "This is too much! Ha, ha, ha!" +</P> + +<P> +"What's the joke?" I asks Miss Vincent. +</P> + +<P> +"It's more of a tragedy!" she says, kinda hysterical like she was glad +it was all over. "That man is no more Brown-Smith than you are. He's +Albert Ellington LaRue, who five years ago was the biggest moving +picture leading man in the country! Why, he got hundreds of letters +every day from poor, foolish little girls who grew dizzy watching him +foil villains in five reels a week. He inherited some money—quite a +lot, I believe, and suddenly vanished from the screen, turning up as +Brown-Smith here last year. But he simply could not resist the call of +his vanity to come back once more as the dashing hero of the film. He +had planned to step into this picture, turn the tables in the fight +with Mr. Scanlan, who he thought was an actor and not a pugilist, and +thus come back to the movies in a blaze of glory! He told me he had +two press agents awaiting the word to flash his coup all over the +country. He thought it would make a great story!" She stopped and +laughed. "It will!" she goes on. "Think of the matinée girls when +they see their darling Albert back in the flash once more and being +unmercifully beaten by a man thirty pounds lighter and inches smaller +than him!" +</P> + +<P> +Just then the fair Albert comes limpin' over to Potts. He looked like +he'd been battlin' a buzz saw! +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Potts," he says, "if you dare to use that scene in your picture, I +will bring suit against your firm. I demand that the film be destroyed +at once!" +</P> + +<P> +"What you say!" screams Genaro. "Nevaire! She'sa mine, that picture! +Away wit' you—you bigga bunk!" He stands before the camera like he's +ready and willin' to protect it with his life. +</P> + +<P> +"You entered the scene of your own accord, <I>Mr. LaRue</I>," remarks Potts, +"and I trust you are in earnest about suing us. The publicity will +just about save me a hundred thousand in advertising." +</P> + +<P> +As soon as he heard that name "LaRue," this guy just kinda caves in and +closes up tight. Miss Vincent turns her nose up at him and walks over +to the Kid as the other dame comes up and shakes Scanlan's hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you!" she says, in that tired voice of hers. "You have done a +big thing for me! Now he cannot go into the pictures again, and maybe +he'll—he'll stay home with me!" +</P> + +<P> +At that Miss Vincent suddenly leans over and kisses her. Can you beat +them dames? +</P> + +<P> +Albert picks up his hat and straightens his tie. Then he glares from +one to the other of us and walks over to Genaro. +</P> + +<P> +"I trust," he says, throwin' out his chest. "I trust you realize that +if your picture is a success, I, and I alone, am responsible for it. +If it hadn't been for the advent of myself, a finished artist, in that +fight scene, it would have fallen flat! Good day, sir!" +</P> + +<P> +And him and his dame and the white-faced Sweet Williams blows! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +LEND ME YOUR EARS +</H4> + +<P> +I don't mind a four-flusher if his stuff is good, know what I mean? A +guy that makes the world think he's there forty ways when as a matter +of fact, he's <I>shy</I> about sixty, deserves credit. Usually, them birds +get it too! They know more about credit than the guy that wrote it, +and any butcher, grocer, tailor or the like who figures on 'em settlin' +the old account has no right to be in business. The only time a +four-flusher pays off is when he hits a new town. Then, if the +attendance is good, he'll buy four or five evenin' papers right out +loud in front of everybody, carelessly displayin' a couple of yellow +bills that might be fifties—if they wasn't tens. After that outburst, +all he spends is the week end. +</P> + +<P> +For the benefit of them which live in towns where the total vote for +President sounds like the score of a world series game, I'll explain +what a four-flusher is, although they probably got one in their midst, +at that. You'll generally find <I>one</I> wherever there's two people—men +or women. A four-flusher is a guy who claims he can lick Jack Dempsey +in a loud and annoyin' voice, and then runs seven blocks in five +minutes flat when some hick in the back room arises to remark that he's +willin' to take a beatin' for Jack. A four-flusher is the bird that +breezes down Main street in a set of scenery that would make John Drew +look like one of the boys in the gas main trenches somewheres in +Broadway, and yet couldn't purchase an eraser, if rubber was sellin' at +three cents a ton. A four-flusher is a hick that admits bein' a better +singer than Caruso, a better ball-player than Ty Cobb, a better real +estate judge than Columbus and more of a chance taker than Napoleon. +</P> + +<P> +The first time he starts at any one of them things, he's a odds-on +favorite for last and finishes ten lengths behind the rest of the +field. That's a four-flusher. +</P> + +<P> +A guy can be taught paintin', pinochle, politics and prohibition, but a +first-class four-flusher is <I>born</I> that way! +</P> + +<P> +Takin' 'em as a league, I'm about as fond of them guys as a worm is of +a fisherman. The only one I ever fell for was J. Harold Cuthbert, and +that bird had somethin' that the others didn't—he was different! I +thought I had seen 'em all, but this guy crossed me, his stuff was new! +</P> + +<P> +The way I met Harold was almost romantic. He was reclinin' on the +ground in a careless manner about ten feet away from the main entrance +to Film City, and he looked like the loser in a battle royal where the +weapons used had been picked out by a guy who hoped there'd be no +survivors. He was gazin' up at what the natives insist is a better +grade of sky than anything we got in the East, and he looked like he +was tryin' to figure whether they was right or not. About two feet +away, lumberman's measure, observin' the wreck and yawning was Francis +Xavier Scanlan, known to the trade as Kid Scanlan, welterweight +champion of the world and Shantung. I looked around for a director and +a camera man, but they was nobody else in sight, so figurin' this +couldn't be nothin' more than a dress rehearsal, I stepped over to the +Kid. +</P> + +<P> +"Who's your friend?" I asks him, noddin' to the sleepin' beauty. +</P> + +<P> +"I seen Genaro lookin' for you," says the Kid. "I'll bet you been over +to Frisco tryin' to nail that dame at the Busy Bee, ain't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"A gambler will never get nowheres," I tells him, "but you're startin' +off with a win on that bet!" I points at the model for still life +again. "When does that guy get up?" I inquires. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid looks down at him for a minute, proddin' him carelessly with +his foot. +</P> + +<P> +"Weather permittin'," he answers, "he ought to be on his feet in five +more minutes, and I'd never have raised a finger to him, if he hadn't +come at me first!" +</P> + +<P> +"D'ye mean to say you been wallopin' that guy?" I says. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what does it look like?" sneers the Kid. "A man's got a right +to protect himself, ain't he?" +</P> + +<P> +"He hit you, eh?" I says. +</P> + +<P> +"No!" answers the Kid. "He didn't get that far with it, but he claimed +he was goin' to, and naturally it was up to me to stop him from gettin' +in a brawl. I never seen a gamer guy in my life, either," he goes on, +admirin'ly. "He knows he'll catch cold layin' on the ground like that, +and yet the minute I stung him he takes a dive and stays down!" +</P> + +<P> +By this time our hero has risen to his feet and, while dustin' off his +clothes, he looks like he's figurin' whether he ought to claim he'd +been doped and ask for a return bout, or call it a day and let it go at +that. Except for where the Kid had jabbed him, he wasn't a bad lookin' +bird, his best bets bein' a crop of dark, wavy hair and a set of +features which any movie leadin' man could give ten thousand bucks for +and make it up on the first picture. The suit of clothes he was +wearin' had probably put the tailor over, and he also had two yellow +gloves and a little trick cane. He walks over to where me and the Kid +was standin' and takes off his hat. It was one of them dashin', +devilish soft things that has names like Pullman cars—you know, "The +Bryn Mawr, $2.50. All Harvard Wears One." Then he points at the Kid +with his cane. +</P> + +<P> +"I made a serious error," he remarks, "in engaging in a brawl with a +thug! I thought you would meet me with a gentleman's weapons and—" +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't got a marshmallow on me," butts in the Kid, grinnin', "or I +would have done that thing. You come at me without no warnin', didn't +you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Merciful Heaven, what grammar!" says the other guy. "I didn't come at +you, as you say in that quaint English of yours, I thought you could +take a joke or—" +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" interrupts the Kid. "That's what the formerly Kaiser has been +tryin' to tell the world, but it ain't goin' into hysterics over his +comedy!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," says the other guy, buttonin' up his coat and glarin' at us +both, "this is not the end of the incident, you can rest assured of +that! The next time we meet I think the result will be different!" +</P> + +<P> +"Say!" pipes the Kid. "What d'ye think I'm gonna do—fight a world +series with you? If you wanna scrap, I know where you can get all the +action you can handle." +</P> + +<P> +"And where is that, pray?" asks the other guy. +</P> + +<P> +"Russia!" says the Kid. "You must have seen it in the papers." He +pats him on the shoulder. "And now, good-by and good luck," he goes +on. "I'm sorry I had to bounce you, but—" +</P> + +<P> +"Enough of this nonsense!" cuts in the other guy, pullin' out a card +and passin' it over to the Kid. "My seconds will wait upon you +to-morrow. I choose rapiers!" +</P> + +<P> +"You which?" says the Kid, examinin' the card. "I don't make you." +</P> + +<P> +"I said that my choice of weapons is rapiers!" explains this guy. "And +as a matter of fairness I must tell you that I have never met my equal +with a sword!" +</P> + +<P> +"Are you tryin' to kid me?" asks Scanlan. "What d'ye mean rapiers?" +</P> + +<P> +"Is it possible you have never handled a blade?" exclaims the other +guy, like he couldn't have heard it right. +</P> + +<P> +"I used to, at that," admits the Kid, "but now I use a fork, except to +pat down the potatoes!" +</P> + +<P> +"So much the worse for you, then!" frowns the sword-swallower. "But +you brought it upon yourself. Remember, to-morrow! And—" he stoops +over and hisses, "—rapiers, without buttons!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha!" yells the Kid. "Raypeers without buttons! How are you gonna +hold 'em up?" +</P> + +<P> +"Your ignorance is pathetic—not funny!" answers the other guy. +</P> + +<P> +"I know," says the Kid. "I barely got through Yale!" He lays his arm +on this guy's shoulder. "Are you on the level with this fight thing?" +he asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"I was never more in earnest in my life!" says the knife-thrower. +</P> + +<P> +"Or nearer Heaven!" grins the Kid. "All right!" he goes on. "I'm +game, if you are, only there's just one question I'd like to ask before +the slaughter begins; don't <I>I</I> get no say about the tools we're gonna +use?" +</P> + +<P> +This guy thinks for a minute and then nods his head. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well!" he says. "I'll make the concession—an unheard-of thing +in the code. What is your choice?" +</P> + +<P> +"Pinochle!" yells the Kid. "I'll stake you to a hundred aces and beat +you from here to Denver!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ugh!" snorts the other guy—and castin' a sneer at both of us, he +passes in the gate. +</P> + +<P> +We went in after him, and the Kid tells me how he come to flatten this +baby, which, from the card he give us, was J. Harold Cuthbert. The Kid +says Harold stopped him outside the portals of Film City and asked him +why no auto had met him at the train. Scanlan says he didn't know, but +he had seen the mayor and two brass bands goin' down and hadn't Harold +met 'em? Harold says he had not and he was gonna file a complaint +about it, because he was the greatest movie actor that ever bawled out +a director. With that, says the Kid, he reeled off the names of the +pictures he had been featured in, and from the list he give out the +only thing he wasn't featured in was "Microbes at Play," a educational +film tore off by the company last year. The Kid asks him if he ever +heard of Kid Scanlan, the shop girls' delight, who was bein' starred in +a five-reeler called "Lay Off, MacDuff." Harold throwed out his chest +and says he wrote it and practically made Scanlan by directin' it. At +that the Kid tells him that he may be a movie star, but he looks like a +liar to him. Harold makes a pass at him, and Scanlan hit him to see +would he bounce. He didn't, and he was just comin' around when I +blowed on the scene. +</P> + +<P> +When we got to Genaro's office, Harold was tellin' Eddie Duke the +reason he was bunged up was because he had fell off the train comin' +out, and Eddie says that was tough and it was time Congress got after +them railroads, but the thing he'd like to know was why Harold had come +out at all. They had looked up the files and there was nothin' to show +who had ordered this guy shipped on. +</P> + +<P> +Harold looks over the bunch in the office for a minute, registers +"I-am-thinking-deeply," and then snaps his fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" he says. "I had a letter of introduction from Mr. Potts, but I +suppose it's in my gray morning suit which will arrive with my trunks +in a day or so. Mr. Potts and myself are old friends," he winks at +Genaro confidentially. "I really think my father owns a slew of the +company's stock, but then Dad is connected with so many vast +enterprises that—" +</P> + +<P> +"Joosta wan minoote!" interrupts Genaro, turnin' a cold eye on Harold. +"Joosta wan minoote! We're very busy joosta now, sometime nex' week +everybody she'sa listen about your father. What we wanna know is what +Meester Potts he'sa senda you out here to do?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh!" says Duke. "That's the idea—what's your act?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, I intend to play romantic leads," pipes Harold, "and I have an +idea that—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha!" laughs the Kid. "That's fair enough. All Edison had was a +idea, and look at him now!" +</P> + +<P> +Harold frowns at him and walks over to Miss Vincent. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you do, Miss Vincent," he says, takin' off his hat and +presentin' her with a bow. "I knew you at once from your photographs. +I have a remarkable memory, inherited from my father. The late J. P. +Morgan once said of him, during the course of a gigantic stock deal, +that—but enough of personalities. I saw you in the 'Escapades of +Eva.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Did you like me?" smiles Miss Vincent. +</P> + +<P> +"Very much!" Harold tells her. "Although the mediocre support and +execrable direction spoiled most of your opportunities. Now if <I>I</I> had +directed that picture, you would have been a great deal—" +</P> + +<P> +"Joosta wan minoote!" butts in Genaro, gettin' red in the face. "I, +Genaro, directed that picture!" +</P> + +<P> +Harold looks over at him and lights a cigarette. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he says, flickin' the ash in Genaro's drinkin' glass, "I +daresay you did your best! But had <I>I</I> been there when the picture was +being produced, I would have suggested a great many things that would +have greatly improved it. I remember calling Belasco's attention to a +detail one time and Dave said to me—" +</P> + +<P> +"Enough!" snaps Genaro, glarin' at him. "You will report to Meester +Duke. He'sa tella you what to do. Or maybe," he snorts, "maybe <I>you</I> +tella heem!" +</P> + +<P> +And he stamps out of the office. +</P> + +<P> +"What a quaint little man!" says Harold, sittin' down in Genaro's chair +and glancin' with interest over some letters that was on his desk. +"How do those chaps ever get into the movies?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ow!" whispers Duke. "If the quaint little man had only heard that!" +He turns, to Harold. "I don't know where I can place you right away," +he says. "How are you on Shakespeare? We're putting on a seven reeler +of 'As You Like It' with Betty Vincent as Rosalind. Do you think you +could do Orlando?" +</P> + +<P> +Harold throws out his chest and sneers. +</P> + +<P> +"What a question!" he remarks. "I could eat it up!" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't want you to eat it," says Duke, gettin' sore. "If you can +play it, I'll be satisfied! You had better go over and register at the +hotel now, and, when you come back, we'll go over the thing." +</P> + +<P> +Harold gets up, yawns and looks at Miss Vincent. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll show you an entirely new interpretation of Rosalind, Miss +Vincent," he tells her. "Of course, Shakespeare was clever after a +fashion, but <I>I</I>—however," he breaks off and holds out his arm. +"Would you care to walk about the grounds here a bit, so that I may +illustrate some of the salient points in my version?" +</P> + +<P> +"No!" cuts in the Kid, before she can answer. "On your way!" he says. +"Miss Vincent's got a date with me to find out is it true you can make +ninety miles an hour in a 1921 Automatic!" +</P> + +<P> +"But—but, my dear sir—" splutters Harold. "I—you—" +</P> + +<P> +"Listen, Stupid," says the Kid. "I can't be bouncin' you all day, but +if you don't canter along, I'll make you hard to catch!" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Vincent smiles and grabs the Kid by the arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Let us have no violence!" she says. "You can tell me all about +Rosalind when I return, Mr. Cuthbert." +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh," adds the Kid. "I'll be willin' to stand for a earful of it +myself, then." +</P> + +<P> +And they breeze out of the office. +</P> + +<P> +"Heavens, what an uncouth ruffian!" pipes Harold, lookin' after 'em. +"I wonder Miss Vincent trusts herself in his company." +</P> + +<P> +"She's a whole lot safer with him than you'd be, old top!" I says. +"And if I was you, I'd lay off that uncouth ruffian stuff around the +Kid. Don't keep temptin' him, because he's liable to get sore, and +when Scanlan gets mad you want to be in the next county!" +</P> + +<P> +"Huh!" sneers Harold. "What does he do, pray?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I says, "I'll tell you. I don't get that dewpray thing of +yours, but the last time the Kid got peeved he won the welterweight +title! Is that good enough?" +</P> + +<P> +"He had better look to his laurels," remarks Harold, "for if he insults +me again, he'll lose them! I'm rather a master of boxing, and at home +I won several medals as an amateur heavy—" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose," I butts in, "I suppose you left them medals in one of them +gray mornin' suits of yours, eh? You didn't have 'em on when the Kid +flattened you, did you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am not fond of vulgar display," he says, "or—" +</P> + +<P> +"What are you wearin' that black eye for then?" I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +He didn't have none ready for that, and I blew. +</P> + +<P> +Well, Harold run true to form. +</P> + +<P> +The next afternoon I seen Duke standin' near the African Desert. He +was callin' upon Heaven in a voice that could be heard plainly in Cape +May, N. J., to ask it if it had ever seen a actor like J. Harold +Cuthbert. Not gettin' no answer, he turned his attention to the other +place, and when he seen me he put it up to me. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter with Harold?" I asks him. "I thought he was gonna +be a knockout in this Shakespeare stuff." +</P> + +<P> +"He was!" says Duke. "The camera men are laughin' yet! Alongside of +that big four-flusher, Kid Scanlan would look like Richard Mansfield!" +</P> + +<P> +"He's rotten, eh?" I says. +</P> + +<P> +"Rotten?" yells Duke. "Why, say—callin' him <I>rotten</I> is givin' him a +<I>boost</I>! If that big stiff is an actor, I'm mayor of Shantung! He +don't know if grease paint is to put on your face or to seal letters +with, he's got the same faculty of expression on that soft putty map of +his as an ox has, he makes love like a wax dummy and he come out to +play 'As You Like It' in a dress suit! It took eight supers to keep +him away from in front of the camera, and he played one scene with his +face glued up against the lens!" +</P> + +<P> +Just then Harold himself eases into view with the Kid taggin' along at +his side. Scanlan is excited about somethin' and wavin' his arms, but +Harold still has that old sneer on his face, and as they come up, I +hear him sayin' this, +</P> + +<P> +"My dear fellow, I know more about auction pinochle than Hoyle. At +home I am recognized as the champion card player of—" He breaks off, +when he sees us, and turns to Duke. "Hello!" he calls over. "Are you +ready to admit now that my idea of making feature productions is the +right one?" +</P> + +<P> +"No!" snarls Duke. "But I'll concede that as an actor you're a +crackerjack bartender! D'ye mean to tell me that you got away with +that kind of stuff in the studios back East?" +</P> + +<P> +"I introduced it!" says Harold, proudly. "As a director for some of +the largest film companies in the world, I have put on hundreds of—" +</P> + +<P> +"The only thing you ever put on was your hat!" interrupts Duke. "And I +bet that give you trouble on account of the size of your head. I +suppose you're gonna tell me that you're also a scenario writer, a +camera man and the guy that got Nero's permission to film the burnin' +of Rome, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"The last is something of an exaggeration," pipes Harold, "but as far +as the other things you mentioned are concerned, I must confess that +there are few people in the business who have approached me!" +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't that rich?" whispers the Kid to me. "You got to hand it to this +bird!" +</P> + +<P> +"You'd be a wonder as a press agent!" I says to Harold. +</P> + +<P> +"Now that's odd you should remark that," he smiles. "For, as a matter +of fact, I excel in <I>that</I> field! I did all the press work for—" +</P> + +<P> +"Columbus!" yells Duke, wavin' him off. "Good-by!" he goes on. "I got +enough! You got a liar lookin' like George Washington!" +</P> + +<P> +Harold looks after Duke as he went into the office. +</P> + +<P> +"Heavens!" he says. "I can't stand that man with his petty little +jealousies! Now when I—" +</P> + +<P> +I don't know what the rest of it was, because me and the Kid left him +to tell it to the African Desert. +</P> + +<P> +Well, Genaro bein' afraid to get in dutch with Potts, which accordin' +to Harold was a ex-roommate of his, give this guy a crack at everything +from directin' to supin', and Harold hit .000 at 'em all. The only +thing he seemed to be any good at was talkin' about himself, and he was +champion of the world at that! He was willin' to concede that +Wellington beat Napoleon and it was Fulton who doped out the steamboat, +but <I>he</I> was the guy that had put over everything else. His favorite +word only had one letter in it, and that's the one that comes right +after H. No matter what subject would come up anywheres where Harold +could get a earful of it, he was the bird that invented it! +</P> + +<P> +We went down to Montana Joe's one afternoon to deal prohibition a blow, +and the Kid gets talkin' about drinkin' as a art, carelessly lettin' +fall the information that, before he had put the Demon Rum down for the +count, he had been looked on as a champion at goin' through the rye. +He winks at Joe and orders a tumbler of private stock. Harold never +bats a eye, but says he's got a roomful of lovin' cups which was give +him for emptyin' bottles. Joe sets down a mixin' glass full of booze +before the Kid, and Scanlan looks at Harold and asks Joe what was the +matter with the shaker. Harold coughs and raps on the bar. "You may +let me have a seidel of gin!" he says, sneerin' at the Kid—and we all +fainted! +</P> + +<P> +He got run out the south gate one afternoon by a enraged scene painter +for tellin' the latter that he could shut both eyes, bind one arm, lay +flat on his side and paint a better exterior than the two hundred +dollar a week decorator, and he started a riot in the developin' room +another time by remarkin' that the bunch in there didn't know how to +paste up film—adding of course, that <I>he</I> did. He tried to show Van +Aylstyne how to write scenarios, and Van Aylstyne threatened to quit +cold if Harold wasn't called off, and when he found fault with Genaro's +lightin' of a night scene, Genaro chased him all over the place with a +practical shotgun. +</P> + +<P> +It wouldn't have been so bad, if Harold had come through on +<I>somethin'</I>. If he had discovered <I>anything</I>, he could actually do +even half way decent, he would have got away with murder. But +no!—That bird was the original No Good Nathan, from Useless, Miss. +</P> + +<P> +The fact that he didn't cause no sensation in our midst, worried Harold +about as much as the price of electric fans keeps 'em awake in Iceland. +There was only one thing Harold was afraid of—and that was lockjaw! +</P> + +<P> +Then Potts blows in unexpected one afternoon, and we all stood around +to see him and Harold fall on each other's neck. In fact, pretty near +everybody in Film City watched the reunion which took place on the edge +of the Street Scene in Tokio—it was very affectin'. +</P> + +<P> +Potts comes walkin' along with three supers and Eddie Duke carryin' his +suitcases, when Harold bumps into the parade at the corner. Genaro had +sent him over to Frisco for a lot of props that would be needed in a +picture he was puttin' on, and naturally, now that Potts was on hand, +he was anxious to have everything O.K. He had give Harold a list in +the mornin' that read like a inventory of a machine shop, and here's +friend Harold comin' back with nothin' in his hands but his fingers. +</P> + +<P> +"The props—where are they?" shrieks Genaro. "Seven hour you have been +gone and you come back with nothing! Everything she'sa ready and we +musta wait till you come with the props—where are they—queek?" +</P> + +<P> +"My dear fellow," says Harold, bowin' to Miss Vincent, "there is no +excuse for addressing me before these ladies and gentlemen in that +ruffianly manner. I was unable to carry out your—er—orders this +morning, having overlooked a trifling detail in the scurry and bustle +of catching that ungodly early train." +</P> + +<P> +"What!" screams Genaro, doin' a few cabaret steps. "You got nothing? +<I>Sapristi</I>! What you do—make fun of me? Why you no get those props?" +</P> + +<P> +"Calm yourself!" pipes Harold. "I'll tell all. I forgot the list of +articles you gave me and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Aha—he'sa maka me crazee!" yelps Genaro, pullin' a swell clog step. +"Take heem away before I keel heem!" +</P> + +<P> +Just then Potts comes by, and we all yell, "Welcome to Film City, Mr. +Potts!" Harold hears this and turns pale. He seen we was all watchin' +closely for the grand reunion between him and his old college chum +Potts. He coughs a couple of times and takes a step forward. That boy +was game! +</P> + +<P> +"How do you do, Mr. Potts?" he says. "Did you—er—have a pleasant +trip?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," answers Potts, lookin' at him kinda puzzled. "What is your name +again? I don't seem to recall it!" +</P> + +<P> +And the boss was supposed to be Harold's dear old college chum! +</P> + +<P> +"Why—er—why—ha! ha!" pipes Harold, dyin' game. "That's odd! Surely +you recall—eh—Cuthbert, my name is, you must remember—eh—why in New +York we—eh—" +</P> + +<P> +He's about eighty feet up in the air and still soaring with the whole +bunch watchin' him and enjoyin' the thing out loud. Potts is lookin' +him over like he's a strange fish or somethin'. +</P> + +<P> +"I think you're mistaken!" pipes the boss, cuttin' in on Harold, "I +never saw you before in my life!" +</P> + +<P> +With that he passes on, leavin' Harold flat and with no more friends +than China had at the Peace Conference. +</P> + +<P> +After that little incident, it was about as pleasant for Harold in Film +City as it was for a German in Liverpool durin' the war. Genaro, Duke +and everybody else went out of their way to make him sick of the +movies, but Harold stuck around and took whatever odd jobs that come +his way with the remark that he could do it better than anybody else +and that was why they give it to him. +</P> + +<P> +I made a mistake when I said everybody rode him—he had three little +pals. They was Miss Vincent, the Kid and yours in the faith. Miss +Vincent claimed that after all he was only a boy which would grow out +of lyin', if give enough time, and it was a outrage the way everybody +picked on him. The Kid said we couldn't all be perfect, and Miss +Vincent would give him back his presents if he laid off Harold. <I>My</I> +excuse for not shootin' Harold was that I liked one thing about him, +and that was the way he hung on, no matter how they was breakin' for +him. He was no good all over, but he wouldn't <I>quit</I> and any guy that +could stand up under punishment like he did is worth a cheer any +time—and sometimes a bet! +</P> + +<P> +I thought I'd brighten his life by tellin' him how he stood with the +three of us. I pictured him goin' down on his knees and thankin' me +with tears in his eyes, when I said that we was with him to the bitter +end. He must have had rheumatism or a pair of charley horses, because +he failed to do any kneelin' where I could see it, and his eyes was as +dry as the middle of Maine. Instead of that, he took me for ten bucks +and said the news was no surprise to him. He didn't see how Miss +Vincent could miss likin' him, because he had been a assassin with the +women from birth. As for the Kid, well, it was common talk that +Scanlan was afraid of him, and I was nothin' but a sure-thing player +which knowed he was a winner and stuck, hopin' I'd cash. +</P> + +<P> +Could you tie Harold? +</P> + +<P> +Van Aylstyne, the guy that committed the scenarios, went out one night +to get some atmosphere for a thriller at Montana Joe's. He got the +atmosphere O.K., bringin' most of it back on his breath and the Kid +asked him to stick out his tongue so he could see was they any revenue +stamps on it. In the mornin' he grabbed a container of ice water and a +pen and dashed off a atrocity in five reels based on what atmosphere of +Montana Joe's that was still with him. He called the thing "The End of +the World!" Potts says the title alone sounded good enough to him to +remove the bumpers from his bankroll without lookin' further, addin', +in a loud aside, that if the plot wasn't a knockout, Van Aylstyne could +change the title to "The End of My Job!" De Vronde, the popular +heart-breaker, is given the lead opposite Miss Vincent, and, of course, +Kid Scanlan is to be dragged in as a special feature. Harold has +hypnotised Genaro into lettin' him take off a "enter with others" in +the first reel. Everything was ready to have the cameras pointed at +it, when somethin' come along that balled it all up. +</P> + +<P> +Her name was Gladys O'Hara. +</P> + +<P> +Gladys was no ravin' beauty and I heard her say "ain't it" twice, but +she was one of them dames that the first flash you get at 'em you +wonder are they still enforcin' the law against mashers! She had a +wonderful complexion and although if you looked close you could see she +had give nature a helpin' hand, she did the retouchin' so well that you +was glad she had. She had one of the latest model, twin-six figures +and she dressed with the idea of givin' the natives a treat, even if +she was takin' chances on pneumonia. Gladys was the kind of dame that +starts the arguments in the newspapers on what is our offices comin' +to, look how them stenographers dress! +</P> + +<P> +When J. Harold Cuthbert met Gladys, she had got as far as bein' a +saleslady in the Busy Bee, Frisco. She could have beat that with her +eyes closed, but Gladys kept hers open and, bein' a female wise guy, +she knew who to eat lunch with and who to say, "I don't get you!" +to—which is a art! As a result, she had never got no further than +sellin' shirtwaists and had her first home to break up. She never +advanced beyond that counter—up or down! Many a necktie salesman had +flashed Gladys and gone right out to buy the tickets, before he even +asked her would she look over a show, windin' up by throwin' 'em away +and tellin' her what a sweet old woman his mother was and how strong he +was for his own gas meter. That was Gladys. She looked like what she +wasn't, and she fooled 'em all. +</P> + +<P> +All but Harold! +</P> + +<P> +I found Gladys very easy to look at myself, and I helped the Sante Fe +over a tough year by runnin' over to Frisco to the Busy Bee whenever I +could get away. It took me a short month to find out that I had the +same chance of winnin' out as I'd have of gettin' elected King of +Montenegro by acclamation, because Harold had been there first and got +in his deadly work. +</P> + +<P> +I was standin' in the next aisle to where Gladys held forth, one +afternoon, waitin' for a couple of fatheads to call it a day and move +away from the counter, when along comes Harold. As usual, he was all +dressed up like a horse, with the even fare back to Film City in them +one-way pockets of his. He butts right into the conversation, and I +nearly fainted when he passes a box of candy over to Gladys. Then I +seen the label on the package, and I revived, because it was one of a +dozen that some simp had sent Miss Vincent and in order to please the +Kid she had give 'em all away. Harold had brought his all the way over +to Frisco on a ticket furnished by the Maudlin Movin' Picture Company, +which sent him over for props. +</P> + +<P> +Well, Harold gets warmed up and in a minute he's press agentin' himself +at the rate of fifty-five words a minute—I clocked him! He tells +Gladys he's bein' <I>starred</I> in "The End of the World" and the amount of +money they're payin' him would startle Europe, if it ever got out. He +claims he made 'em all faint at the rehearsals and offers from other +companies is comin' in so fast that he's got a charley horse on his +thumb from openin' telegrams. From that he works into the fact that +after the picture is made he's gonna run around Europe—that's just the +way he said it, "Run around Europe!" Oh, boy!—that bein' the way he +usually spent his vacations. When Gladys staggers over to wait on a +customer, Harold charges himself up again and when she comes back he's +off to a runnin' start. He remarks that his father has just made a +killin' in Wall Street that has caused Rockefeller to weep and gnash +his teeth and that the last affair his mother give at Newport got four +columns on the front page, although the mayor of the town had been shot +the same afternoon. +</P> + +<P> +Gladys takes this all in with her mouth as open as Kelly pool and her +eyes half closed and dreamy like she was dyin' happy. +</P> + +<P> +When Harold put on the brakes and eased up, she throwed him a look that +I would have walloped Dempsey for. Harold says he must go, because the +picture would be ruined if he wasn't there to direct it, and Gladys +holds out a tremblin' hand. Then Harold plays his ace—he takes off +his hat, bows, kisses that hand and blows. +</P> + +<P> +When I seen Gladys deliberately walk back of the wrappin' booth, put +her hand to her lips and kiss it herself—I pulled my hat down over my +ears and went back to Film City. +</P> + +<P> +The next mornin' they begin work on the first reel of "The End of the +World," and Harold had a field day at bein' rotten. He got in +everybody's way, ruined twenty feet of film by firin' off a cannon at +the wrong time and made Genaro hysterical by gettin' caught in a papier +mache tower and pullin' it down. Not content with that, he goes back +of a interior to try out one of the Kid's cigarettes and by simply +flickin' the thing into a can of kerosene he set the Maudlin Movin' +Picture Company back about five hundred bucks. +</P> + +<P> +They run him out of the picture, and he went, yellin' that it would be +a farce without him in it. +</P> + +<P> +About four o'clock me and the Kid is trottin' along the road outside of +Film City like we did every day so's Scanlan could keep in condition, +when we all but fell over Harold. He's sittin' on a rock and gazin' +off very sad in the general direction of New York. His dashin', +smashin', soft hat was yanked down over his home-breakin' face, and his +dimpled chin was buried in his lily white hands. He looked like a guy +that has worked twenty-seven years inventin' a new steamboat and then +seen it sink the first time he tried it out. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid runs over and slaps him on the back just hard enough to make +his hat fall off. +</P> + +<P> +"Cheer up, Cutey!" pipes Scanlan. "They can't hang a guy for tryin'!" +</P> + +<P> +Harold retrieves his hat, smoothes it out carefully and lets loose the +gloomiest sigh I ever heard in my life. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you a cigarette?" he asks sadly. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid pulls out a deck, and Harold takes two, droppin' one in his +pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"Alas!" he remarks, strikin' a match on my shoe. "Alas!" +</P> + +<P> +"When can the body be seen?" asks Scanlan. "And is it a church funeral +or will they pull it off at the house?" +</P> + +<P> +"This is no time for levity," mutters Harold. "I'm ruined!" +</P> + +<P> +"I only got ten bucks with me," the Kid tells him, "but I'll part +with—" +</P> + +<P> +"Poof!" sneers Harold, wavin' his hands like a head waiter. "Money! I +am not in need of that. Why, my father—" He breaks off to take the +bill from the Kid's hand and shove it in his pocket. "Rather than +offend you!" he explains. "No," he goes on, "this is a more serious +matter than money. I—" He flicks away the cigarette, jumps up off +the rock and gives us both the up and down. "I am going to take you +two into my confidence," he says, "and perhaps you will help me." +</P> + +<P> +"Go on!" encourages the Kid. "I'm all worked up—shoot it!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, then," says Harold, with the air of a guy pleadin' guilty to +save his old father. "In the first place, my name is not J. Harold +Cuthbert!" +</P> + +<P> +There was no answer from us, and Harold seemed peeved because we had +not collapsed at his confession. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it?" I asks, when the silence begin to hurt the ears. +</P> + +<P> +"Trout!" pipes Harold, bitterly. "Joe Trout!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" says the Kid. "Well, what's the matter with that? What did you +can it for?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha!" hisses Harold, with a "curse you!" giggle. "Where could a +man get with a name like <I>that</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +"In the aquarium!" yells the Kid. "I knew you'd fall!" +</P> + +<P> +Harold shakes his head and blows himself to another sigh. +</P> + +<P> +"Imagine a moving picture leading man named Trout!" he goes on. "I +changed my name as a sacrifice to the movies, for—" +</P> + +<P> +"Just a minute!" I butts in. "On the level now, where <I>did</I> you get +your movin' picture experience?" +</P> + +<P> +"As assistant bookkeeper in a grocery store!" he answers. "Now you +have it!" +</P> + +<P> +"But you said your father was a big man in Wall Street!" I busts out. +</P> + +<P> +"He is!" answers Harold, lookin' over at the Santa Fe. "They don't +come any bigger. He's a traffic policeman at the corner of Broadway +and Wall Street and stands six foot four in his socks!" +</P> + +<P> +"Sweet Cookie!" shouts the Kid, and falls off the rock. +</P> + +<P> +When we recover from that, Harold has smoked the other cigarette, and +he nods for my box. Then he asks us do we want to hear the rest. +</P> + +<P> +"If you don't tell it," says the Kid, "you'll never leave here alive! +Hurry up, I'm dyin' to hear it!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," says the ex-J. Harold Cuthbert, "I am about to be married and +at the eleventh hour Nemesis has gripped me. I told my fiancée that I +was being featured in 'The End of the World' and that it would be +exceedingly easy for me to get <I>her</I> a part in the picture—she having +expressed a desire to that effect at various times. She will be here +within the hour to watch me being filmed and to hold me to my promise +to place her as leading woman opposite me." He stops and moans. +"Gentlemen," he goes on, "picture for yourself the contretemps when she +finds I am nothing but a super and that Genaro wouldn't give Sarah +Bernhardt a job on a recommendation from me! My romance will be +shattered, and the—the humiliation will kill me!" +</P> + +<P> +There was a heavy silence for a minute, and then the Kid whistles. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, pal," he says, "you have certainly balled things up a few, +haven't you?" +</P> + +<P> +Joe Trout just let loose another moan. +</P> + +<P> +"Gimme one of them good cigarettes!" pipes the Kid to me. He lights it +and looks over at friend Joe. "The first thing," he says, puffin' +away; "the first thing, is this—just how <I>much</I> do you think of this +dame, all jokes aside?" +</P> + +<P> +Joe turns around and straightens up, for once in his life lookin' like +the real thing. +</P> + +<P> +"I love her!" he says. That was all—but the way he pulled it was a +plenty! +</P> + +<P> +The Kid grunts and tosses away the pill. Then he walks over to Joe and +slaps him on the back. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen!" he says. "You ain't a bad guy at that. I'm gonna give you +somethin' I never took in my life—advice! Why don't you lay off lyin' +about yourself, kid? Why don't you can that four-flush thing?" +</P> + +<P> +The effect of them simple words on Joe was remarkable. He swung around +on us so quick that we both ducked, thinkin' he was comin' back with a +wallop—but his hands was sunk so deep in his coat pockets they liked +to pushed through the linin' and his face was as hard and white as an +iceberg. +</P> + +<P> +"Because!" he shoots out through his teeth. "<I>Because I can't</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +Y'know the change was so sudden, I remember lettin' out a little +nervous laugh, and then sidesteppin' a vicious left the Kid sent at me. +Scanlan had turned as serious as the other guy. +</P> + +<P> +"What d'ye mean, you <I>can't</I>?" he says, grabbin' Joe by the arm and +holdin' him fast. Joe's face showed how hard he was fightin' to keep +from fallin' apart. +</P> + +<P> +"You won't understand!" he answers in a hard voice. "But I'll tell +you. The thing has grown upon me until I cannot shake it off! I guess +I was born a liar and probably four-flushed my nurse when I was three +days old. When I was a boy, my incessant lying, although it harmed no +one but myself, kept me in countless scrapes. As I grew older, the +habit grew stronger and I lost girls, jobs, friends and opportunities +with breath-taking rapidity. Time after time I have sworn to rid +myself of the thing and speak nothing but the undiluted truth, and the +first time I open my mouth I find myself unconsciously telling the most +astounding falsehoods about myself with an ease that nauseates me!" He +tore himself loose from the Kid and kicked a innocent tomato can down +the canyon. "I know I'm nothing but a big four-flusher," he winds up, +"and I can't help it!" +</P> + +<P> +Right then and there I warmed up to Joe Trout like I never had before. +After all, Miss Vincent had the right dope—he was nothin' but a big +kid at that, and any guy that will come right out in public and admit +he's a false alarm, deserves credit! +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he says after a minute, "I suppose you're both through with me +now, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do I look like a quitter?" demands the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm still here, ain't I?" I chimes in. +</P> + +<P> +Joe coughs and took hold of our hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks!" he mutters. "And now—-" +</P> + +<P> +"Listen!" interrupts the Kid. "I got the whole thing doped out. When +is this dame of yours due to hit Film City?" +</P> + +<P> +"She'll be here on that one o'clock train," moans Joe. +</P> + +<P> +"Fine!" says the Kid. "Now get this! De Vronde is supposed to do a +fall from a horse in 'The End of the World' and the big yellow bum +won't do it. They're lookin' for some guy that will take his place, +just for that one flash, see? Now suppose I fix it so you get that +chance and when the dame comes on, there you are playin' the lead as +far as she can see, in the best part of the frolic. How's that?" +</P> + +<P> +I thought Joe was gonna kiss him! +</P> + +<P> +"I'll never forget it!" he hollers. "You have saved my life! What can +I do to repay you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Stop four-flushing," comes back the Kid, "and be on the level!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll do it, if it kills me!" promises Joe—and I don't know whether he +meant the fall or the other. +</P> + +<P> +"Can you ride a horse?" the Kid asks him as we start back. +</P> + +<P> +"Can <I>I</I> ride a horse?" repeats Joe, stoppin' short. "What a question! +Why at home I was the champion—" +</P> + +<P> +"Now, now!" butts in the Kid. "There you go again!" +</P> + +<P> +"Pardon me!" says Joe, gettin' red—and he quits! +</P> + +<P> +Well, the Kid fixed it all right, so's Joe could double for De Vronde +in that one place where he did the fall. I don't know how he did it +any more than I know how Edison come to think of the phonograph, but he +did! All my suspicions as to who the dame was come true when Gladys +hops off the one o'clock train that afternoon. I seen her talkin' to +Eddie Duke near the African Desert, and I immediately went scoutin' +around for Joe, because Eddie liked him the same way the brewers is +infatuated with the Anti-Saloon League and I knowed if Eddie got a +chance to harpoon Joe with Gladys, he'd do that thing. +</P> + +<P> +About half a hour later, Genaro asks me to go over and find Potts, +because they're ready to start shootin' the picture and when I got near +the hotel I seen a couple of people blockin' the little narrow passage +in back of it. They was Gladys O'Hara and Joe Trout and when I got +close up I heard Joseph talkin'. He was goin' like a house on fire and +his little old lyin' apparatus was hittin' on all cylinders and runnin' +smooth without a break. He explains to Gladys that he went on only in +the important part of the picture which she would see in a minute, and +that De Vronde was only one of the cheap help who played the part while +<I>he</I> was restin' for the big scene. As soon as that come up—and he +said the whole picture was built around it—they give De Vronde the +gate and in went the darin' Joe. +</P> + +<P> +He was all dressed up in a Stetson hat, a cute little yellow silk +handkerchief twisted around his manly neck and more chaps than any cow +puncher ever wore on his legs outside of a movie. He looked like what +he'd liked to have been. +</P> + +<P> +"—and not only that," he winds up, "but they are going to feature my +name on all the advertising for the picture!" +</P> + +<P> +"Is that all?" asks Gladys in a queer little voice. +</P> + +<P> +Joe looked surprised. I guess it was the first time anybody had asked +for more! +</P> + +<P> +"Well—no!" he starts off again briskly. "Of course, I am—" +</P> + +<P> +"Wait!" says Gladys, grabbin' his arm. "Don't tell me any more lies! +They are not featuring you in this or any other picture! You are not +the leading man, you are only a super! Your father is not a +millionaire and you cannot get me a job with the Maudlin Moving Picture +Company! You're simply a big four-flusher and that lets you out!" +</P> + +<P> +Say! On the level, I thought Joe was gonna pass away on his feet! If +I was give to faintin', I'd have been stretched out cold, myself. He +got white and then he got red, then he got white again and red again +for fully a minute. He tried eighteen times by actual count to say +something but that well known tongue of his had laid down at last and +quit! He couldn't even raise a whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"I knew you were four-flushin' the first time you started to hand me +that stuff!" goes on Gladys, sweetly. "I happen to know the folks +here, includin' the leadin' man, De Vronde. He was hangin' around that +shirtwaist counter before you knew whether they made pictures here or +sponge cake. Also, some of your friends come over from time to time +and tipped me off about you, so that I was all set when you started!" +</P> + +<P> +Joe whirls around on her at that, and although this bird had beat me to +the wire with Gladys, I felt sorry for him right then. The poor kid +was hangin' on the ropes waitin' for somebody to throw in the sponge. +</P> + +<P> +"If you knew all that," he says, kinda choked, "why—why did you let me +come over and continue to—to mislead you?" +</P> + +<P> +Gladys coughs and places three or four stray hairs exactly back of her +little white ear, gazin' at her wrist watch like it's the first time +she ever seen one, and she's wonderin' can it really go. The big boob +stands there lookin' at her and the chance of a couple of lifetimes is +slippin' away. What? Say, listen! I don't know much about +women—fighters is my line—but there was a look on Gladys's face that +I'd seen Genaro work two hours one time to put on Miss Vincent's when +they was takin' a big picture. So you can figure she wasn't +registerin' hate! +</P> + +<P> +"Well, why?" demands Joe again. +</P> + +<P> +"This stuff is all new to me," says Gladys, with a sigh, "but I guess +I've got to do it!" She gazes at the ground and gets kinda red. "It +was not your conversation that made the hit with me!" she winds up +softly. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid I don't understand," pipes Senseless Joe. +</P> + +<P> +"Heavens!" remarks Gladys. "There's enough concrete between your neck +and your hat to build a bridge over the bay! I can safely say you're +the first man I ever proposed to, but somebody's got to do it and I +guess I'm the goat!" +</P> + +<P> +"What!" screams Joe, comin' to life at last. +"You—you—forgive—you—" The poor simp gets all excited and once +again he can't talk and—I don't blame him. You never seen Gladys, and +you don't know how she looked right then! +</P> + +<P> +"Say!" says Gladys. "Am I bein' kidded or—" +</P> + +<P> +Joe might have been a tramp as a movie lover, but take it from me, as +the real thing he was no slouch! I hadda stand there and watch it, +because I couldn't get past till they got away and if they'd ever seen +me, I guess Joe would have bought a gun. Finally, they break, Gladys +pushin' Joe away and holdin' him off. +</P> + +<P> +"You've got to promise me you'll stop lyin' and four-flushin'!" she +tells him. "Tell the truth and don't kid yourself that you'd have been +President, if you hadn't been jobbed. That stuff is poor and will get +you nowheres. Make good and you won't have to tell anybody about +it—it'll be in the papers! As far as I can see, the best thing about +you right now is ME! If you can't get over with <I>that</I>, I'll see that +you do!" +</P> + +<P> +"We'll get married to-night!" yelps Joe. "There's a minister in Film +City and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't crowd me!" interrupts Gladys, lettin' herself be kissed. "Do +you promise?" +</P> + +<P> +"Anything!" grins Joe. +</P> + +<P> +"Just what <I>are</I> you supposed to do in this picture?" she asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"Fall off a horse!" says Joe. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that all?" asks Gladys. +</P> + +<P> +Joe nods. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," Gladys tells him, "you won't do it! I don't want no crippled +bridegroom at my weddin'. Now listen to me! If you could <I>write</I> that +stuff you've been wastin' on the air around here, you ought to make a +pretty good press agent. Mr. Potts, the man who owns the company and +the fellow you or your father <I>never</I> palled around with, has a man on +his payroll named Struther. He's head of what they call the publicity +department, it says so on ten of his cards I have. He once claimed +he'd do anything for me in such a loud voice that the floorwalker had +to speak to him. I'm goin' over to the office now and ask him to give +you a job back in New York. To be perfectly truthful with you, that's +what I came over here for to-day in the first place!" +</P> + +<P> +"But—but," stammers Joe. "I can't have you asking favors for me, +Gladys, and—and, why New York?" +</P> + +<P> +"Because," she says, "that's where I come from, and I want to look at +it again—I'm simply crazy to yell down a dumbwaiter and throw a +quarter in my own gas meter!" +</P> + +<P> +Well—that's about all. They had a big weddin' right in the middle of +Film City and everybody sent in and bought 'em a present. Potts got a +flash at Gladys, moans regretfully and has the ceremony filmed, givin' +the result to Joe as a special gift. Of course Gladys got Joe that +job. That dame could have got frankfurters and sourkraut in Buckingham +Palace! Before they left for New York, I tried Joe out. +</P> + +<P> +"It'll be terrible here, when you're gone!" I says, "because you know +more about makin' movies than Rockefeller does about oil." +</P> + +<P> +Joe shakes his head and grins. +</P> + +<P> +"No!" he says. "I guess I don't know much about anything!" +</P> + +<P> +I pronounced him cured to myself and shook his hand. The Kid went to +the train with him and his bride. I didn't feel up to seein' that guy +goin' away with Gladys. +</P> + +<P> +I met the Kid as he was comin' up from the railroad station, and seein' +he was laughin', I asked him if the happy pair got off all right. +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh!" he says. "Everything went fine. Me and Miss Vincent waited +till the train was pullin' out. Gladys was inside and Joe was standin' +on the steps of the Pullman, talkin'. Just before the thing pulled +out, I shook Joe's hand and said I hoped he got past in New York, +because it was a big burg and a tough one for losers." The Kid stops +and laughs some more. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I says, "what's the joke?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sweet Papa!" says the Kid, wipin' his eyes. "Joe's face lights all up +and that old glitter comes back in his eyes! +</P> + +<P> +"'Make good?' he yells to me. 'Well, I ought to make good—my father +owns half the town, and I was the biggest thing in it when I left!'" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER V. +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +"EXIT, LAUGHING" +</H4> + +<P> +Every time I see one of them big, fat, dignified guys that looks like +they have laid somebody eight to five they can go through life without +smilin' once, I wonder just how much they'd give in American money to +be able to put on a suit of pink pajamas and walk down Fifth Avenue +some crowded afternoon, leadin' a green elephant by a string! +</P> + +<P> +I'll bet they's many a bank president, brigadier-general and what not, +that would part with their right eye if they could only force +themselves to let down for five minutes, can this dignity thing and +give a imitation of what a movie comedian thinks is humor. The best +proof of this is that the first chance any of them birds gets—<I>that's +just what they do</I>! +</P> + +<P> +Y'know, you've seen in the papers lots of times where Archibald Van +Hesterfeld has been among the starters in the bazaar for the relief of +the heat prostration victims in Iceland, or words to that effect. Or, +if it wasn't Archibald it might have been General Galumpus or Commodore +Fedink—or all of them. Away down at the bottom of the page, if it's a +copy of the Succotash Crossing <I>Bugle</I>, or right up in the headlines, +if it's a big town sheet, after readin' what dignity and so forth the +"distinguished guests lent to the affair," you'll see that at midnight +they was large doin's on the dance floor. It is even bein' whispered +around that the general, commodore or governor fox-trotted with the +girls from the Follies and one-stepped with such of the fair sex as +cared practically nothin' for the neighbors. Along about the time the +milkman was sayin', "Well, here's another day!", the well known +distinguished guests was actin' like a guy who knows a Harvard man +does, after they have beat Yale or vice versa. +</P> + +<P> +One of them birds acts so dignified at the office all day that not even +the most darin' of his clerks would <I>think</I> of a joke in the same room +with him. He'll breeze home on baby's birthday with a trick lion or a +jumpin' jack for the kid, and spend three or four hours on the +dinin'-room floor makin' it go, while friend infant wishes to Heaven +father would call it a day and commence readin' the papers, so's <I>he</I> +could toy with it for a while. +</P> + +<P> +The rest of the family stands around and tells each other that the old +man must have a good heart at that, because look how he goes out of his +way to amuse the baby. Father growls up at 'em and prays that they'll +all go to bed, includin' the one that's just learnin' to walk, so's he +can be let alone to really enjoy the thing himself! +</P> + +<P> +We're all babies at heart, and the reason most of us don't admit it and +give in to our childish desires is because we're afraid the people in +the next flat will think we're nutty or have found a way to beat +prohibition. Now and then some extry brave guy sneers at the neighbors +and lets himself loose, and shortly afterward a committee is appointed +to look after his money. Finally, he is shipped f.o.b. to some +sanitarium where a passin' nod from the head doctor is listed at +twenty-five bucks and where the victim is fed strange foods and tucked +in bed at the devilish hour of nine. +</P> + +<P> +This is naturally very discouragin' to the rest of us which was about +to tear loose ourselves, so we sigh, growl at the universe—and lay off! +</P> + +<P> +I feel sorry for the guys that have to have their comedy served up to +them in disguise, like lobster a la Newburg, for instance. These birds +claim they like stuff you got to study for five minutes before you get +it, and then at a given signal you pull a nice lady-like laugh, the +while remarkin', "How subtle!" You don't want to cackle too loud or +the people across the hall will get the idea that you're a tribe of +lowbrows, and it'll get said around that your great-grandfather was +known to go in hysterics over the funny sheet of the Sunday papers! +</P> + +<P> +They think the vaudeville or movie cut-up that does the funny falls is +a vulgar lunatic who ought to be in jail, and their idea of the height +of humor is the way a iceman pronounces décolleté, or somethin' like +that. +</P> + +<P> +I like my own comedy straight! I want it to wallop me right on the +laugher, so's I can get it the first time and giggle myself sick. I'm +extry strong for the loud and common guffaw, and I claim that because I +go into hysterics over the fat-man-on-the-banana-peel stuff, it don't +prove that I'm a heavy drinker, beat my wife and will probably wind up +in jail. On general principles I'm infatuated with the bird that can +make me laugh, and I don't care how he does it as long as he makes +good. I care not whether he laughs with me or for me, as long as +they's a snicker in there somewheres. I can even stand him laughin' at +me, because, if his stuff is funny enough—I'll laugh too! +</P> + +<P> +No guy who can look around him, no matter how things is breakin' for +him and see somethin' to laugh at as the mob goes by, is beat. That +bird is just gettin' ready to pull a new punch from somewheres and he's +the baby you want to watch! The guy that can't see nothin' funny in +life, whether he's eight or eighty, is through! +</P> + +<P> +Me and Kid Scanlan saved one of them guys. His name was Jason Van Ness. +</P> + +<P> +I was sittin' in Genaro's office one afternoon about seven or eight +months after me and the Kid had decided to give the movies a boost, +when the door opens and in comes a guy which at first glance I figured +must at least be the governor of the state. He's there with a cane, a +high hat and the general makeup of a Wall Street broker in a play where +he won't forgive his son for marryin' the ingenue. Also, he's built +all over like a heavyweight champ, except his face, the same runnin' to +the dignified lines of the bloodhounds, them big, flabby, over-lappin' +jaws—get me? +</P> + +<P> +"I say, old chap—are you Mister Genaro?" he pipes. +</P> + +<P> +"Nope!" I says. "I'm Johnny Green, manager of Kid Scanlan, +welterweight champion of the world." +</P> + +<P> +"Really!" he remarks. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I says, "d'ye wanna see the contract or will we go over to a +notary so's I can swear to it?" +</P> + +<P> +At that he frowns and waves a finger at me. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, my man," he says, "no chaffing now! You may tell Mister Genaro +I have arrived! Of course you know who I am?" +</P> + +<P> +That "my man!" thing was a trifle more than I could take! I throws my +feet up on Genaro's desk and give this guy a long, careless once over, +puttin' everything I had on the stare. +</P> + +<P> +"I ain't got no more idea who you are," I tells him finally, "than a +oyster has of roller-skatin'. Who are you? I never seen <I>your</I> face +on no postage stamps!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I say!" he busts out, registerin' wild indignation. "Don't you +ever read the newspapers?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure!" I says. "But then, escapin' convicts don't get much space in +'em any more! At that, I think I know you now, though." +</P> + +<P> +"I should think you jolly well would!" he comes back, calmin' down +some. "Why—" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" I goes on. "I got you. I've met so many from your lodge it's +funny I didn't recognize the high signs right away. You're a big, +tinhorn four-flusher!" +</P> + +<P> +Sweet Cookie! +</P> + +<P> +His face did a Georgie Cohan, gettin' red, white and blue by turns, and +he pawed the air, gaspin' for breath like a fat piano mover. Before he +can get set for a comeback, they's a loud crash outside the door, +followed by the well known dull thud. In another minute Kid Scanlan +walks in, draggin' somethin' after him by the back of the neck. +</P> + +<P> +"Look what <I>I</I> found!" chirps the Kid, droppin' the thing on the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"By Jove!" squeals the big guy. "He's killed my dresser!" +</P> + +<P> +I got up from the chair and took a flash. Sure enough, the thing the +Kid had dragged in was a human bein'. He was a long, lean guy, lookin' +like he'd been over here about long enough to tell the judge that +George Washington discovered America, was president now and stopped the +Civil War, and can he please have his first papers, so's he can vote +against suffrage. +</P> + +<P> +His one good eye opens and examines the room. Then he hops off the +floor, shoots a hand inside his pocket and yanks it out with a thing +that looked like a undeveloped spear. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Sapristi</I>!" he remarks loudly—and makes a dive at the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +The chair I throwed at him was wasted, because Scanlan stepped aside +and flattened the assassin with a left hook to the jaw. The big guy +gives one yell and rushes out of the office. +</P> + +<P> +"Who's your friend?" I asks the Kid, pointin' to the sleepin' beauty on +the floor. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid glares down at the body and prods it with his foot. +</P> + +<P> +"The big stiff!" he says. "I should have murdered him!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I tells him soothin'ly, "it ain't too late yet! What started +the mêlée?" +</P> + +<P> +He sits on the side of the desk and lights a cigarette. +</P> + +<P> +"This hick is standin' outside here," he begins, "when I come along as +peaceful as the Swiss navy. I see right away he's a Eyetalian, and I'm +anxious to show him I can talk his chatter so—" +</P> + +<P> +"Wait a minute!" I butts in. "Since when have <I>you</I> been able to speak +Eyetalian?" +</P> + +<P> +"What?" he snorts. "Another one, eh? Ain't Miss Vincent been teachin' +me English, French, Eyetalian and what to do with the oyster fork?" +</P> + +<P> +"Is she?" I comes back. "That's all new to me. The last flash I got +you was just takin' up how to enter a room!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'm past that," he explains, "and next week I begin on manners. +Anyhow, I see this boob standin' there, and I says to myself, here's a +chance to pull a little Eyetalian. So with that I stands in front of +him and says, '<I>Bomb Germo, Senorita—a vostrican salute</I>!'" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid stops and bangs his fist down on the table. +</P> + +<P> +"What d'ye think the big hick said?" he asks me. +</P> + +<P> +I passed. +</P> + +<P> +"He grins at me, waggles his shoulders and pipes, '<I>No spika da +Engleesh</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +"'What d'ye mean <I>English</I>!' I says. 'That ain't English, that's +Eyetalian, Stupid! <I>Bomb Germo Senorita</I>!' +</P> + +<P> +"'No spika da Engleesh,' he pipes again. +</P> + +<P> +"I grabs him by the shoulder and swing him around. +</P> + +<P> +"'What part of Italy was you born in?' I inquires. 'Hoboken?' +</P> + +<P> +"'No spika da Engleesh!' he grins. +</P> + +<P> +"By this time my goat was runnin' around wild. I grabbed his other +shoulder and looked him in the eye. +</P> + +<P> +"'I'll give you one more chance,' I says; 'cut the comedy now and come +through or you're gonna have some bad luck. <I>Bomb Germo Senorita</I>!' +</P> + +<P> +"'No spika da Engleesh!' he says. +</P> + +<P> +"With that, havin' took all a human bein' could stand, I let him fall!" +</P> + +<P> +"Just a minute!" I says, as Scanlan starts for the door. "I want to +ask you a question about the Eyetalian language, as long as you know so +much about it. Just what does <I>Bomb Germo</I> mean?" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid stops and scratches his chin. +</P> + +<P> +"To tell you the truth," he admits, "I don't know!" +</P> + +<P> +At that the door opens and in blows Genaro with the big dignified guy +and "Bomb Germo" arises from the floor again, rubbin' the back of his +head. +</P> + +<P> +"What's a mat?" asks Genaro, lookin' very excited from me to the Kid. +"Why you knock him down Meester Van Ness bureau?" +</P> + +<P> +"Dresser!" corrects Van Ness, puttin' a round piece of glass over one +eye and glarin' at us. +</P> + +<P> +"'Scuse a me!" pipes Genaro, makin' a bow. "Why you knock him down +Meester Van Ness dresser?" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid growls at "Bomb Germo" who hisses back at him like a snake and +backs out of range of that left. +</P> + +<P> +"I asked him '<I>Bomb Germo</I>,'" explains Scanlan, "and he started to kid +me!" +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Bomb Germo</I>? <I>Bomb Germo</I>?" repeats Genaro. "What is she that <I>Bomb +Germo</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +Scanlan grunts at him in disgust. +</P> + +<P> +"You're a fine Eyetalian, you are!" he snorts. "I'll bet you and that +other guy don't know whether spaghetti is a outfielder or a race horse!" +</P> + +<P> +Van Ness removes the one-cylinder eyeglass for a minute and cleans it +with his "for display only" handkerchief. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe," he remarks. "Maybe the fellow means to say '<I>Buona Juerno</I>!'" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" grins Genaro. "<I>Si</I>! He'sa mean 'Good morning!' No?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" says the Kid. "Correct! Step to the head of the class. I told +that to Stupid there and he says, 'No spika da Engleesh!'" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," chirps Genaro, pattin' the Kid on the back, "let's all be the +friend now, no? What's the use hava the fight?" He turns to Van Ness +and takes his hand, "Meester Van Ness," he goes on, "thisa Meester Kid +Scanlan. He'sa tougha nut—but nica fel'. He'sa fighting champion of +the world. He'sa taka his fista <I>so</I>," he stops and waves his arms +around, "everybody she'sa falla down!" He swings around on the Kid. +"Meester Kid Scanlan," he pants, "thisa Meester Van Ness. He'sa greata +bigga actor. Oh, of the A numbera seven!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" says the Kid, registerin' "I-should-worry!" and gazin' over at +"Bomb Germo." "Well, that ain't my fault, is it? Who's the other guy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Guy?" says Genaro. "Whata guy?" +</P> + +<P> +"The phoney wop!" pipes the Kid, pointin' to the long, thin bird. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, heem!" snorts Genaro, snappin' his fingers. "He'sa nobody. Justa +what you call the dresser for the granda Meester Van Ness." +</P> + +<P> +"He's got a name, ain't he?" asks the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +"Joosta Tony," answers Genaro. +</P> + +<P> +"Good enough!" comes back Scanlan, walking across the room. "Hey, +Tony!" he says. "They tell me you claim to be a Eyetalian." +</P> + +<P> +"That'sa right!" pipes Tony, forgettin' himself and scowlin'. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," goes on the Kid. "<I>Bomb Germo</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +"No spika da Engleesh!" frowns Tony, waggling his shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"You big stiff!" roars the Kid, gettin' red in the face. "You won't +speak nothin' when I get done toyin' with that odd face of yours!" +</P> + +<P> +He makes a dive for Tony, but Genaro grabs him. +</P> + +<P> +"Joosta one minoote!" pants Genaro. "It'sa maka me laugh! Ho, ho, I +teenk I getta one, two hysterics! Fighting champion of the world, +he'sa getta mad at the dresser!" +</P> + +<P> +"By Jove!" pants Van Ness, givin' the Kid the up and down through the +trick eyeglass. "By Jove! I told Tony to converse with no one while +we were here. What does this—this person mean by buffeting him about? +I thought this company was composed of ladies and gentlemen, not +stevedores and longshoremen!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't get gay, Fatty!" yells the Kid, strugglin' with Genaro. "I put +bigger actors than <I>you</I> to sleep. I gotta left hand that's got +morphine lookin' like a alarm clock!" +</P> + +<P> +"Waita, waita!" shrieks Genaro. "We musta all be the friend. Joosta +waita when you and Meester Van Ness get better acquainta you'll be +joosta like—" +</P> + +<P> +"Germany and England!" butts in the Kid, tearin' himself away. "Come +on!" he tells me. "Let's get away from here," he glares at Van Ness +and Tony, "before certain parties makes any more cracks! If they +do—I'll make 'em look like models for The Dyin' Gladiator!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don'ta minda heem!" whispers Genaro to Van Ness, as we get over to the +door. "He'sa fina fel'. He'sa no hurta the <I>bambino</I>—what you call +ba-bee. Gotta taka bag of the salts with everything he'sa say. Gotta +lots temperament!" +</P> + +<P> +"A ruffian, <I>I</I> should say!" remarks Van Ness loudly. +</P> + +<P> +"Bigga bunka!" hisses Tony. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" roars the Kid, swingin' around on them. +</P> + +<P> +"Good day, sir!" pipes Van Ness, steppin' back of the desk. +</P> + +<P> +"No spika da Engleesh!" says Tony, steppin' in back of his boss. +</P> + +<P> +I yanked the Kid outside before violence was had by all. +</P> + +<P> +Jason Van Ness stayed at Film City for about two months. Durin' that +time he made as many friends as the ex-Kaiser would pick up in Paris. +They was two reasons for this, the first bein' that he was the most +dignified and solemn guy I ever seen in my life. Stories that would +put a victim of lockjaw in hysterics couldn't coax a snicker from that +undertaker's face of his which would have made a supreme court justice +look like a clown. In fact, if he'd been a judge and I ever come up +before him, I would have took one flash at that face and asked him to +gimme life and let it go at that! His favorite smokin'-room story was +what causes spots on the sun or somethin' equally excitin', and pretty +soon they was a standin' offer of a hundred bucks to the first guy that +could make Van Ness laugh! +</P> + +<P> +Some of the greatest comedians the movies ever seen laid awake nights +and become famous on stunts they pulled off for the sole benefit of Van +Ness—and all he did was to inquire if they was crazy or soused! +</P> + +<P> +The second reason that Van Ness was as unpopular as snow durin' the +world's series was because he was the greatest actor that ever moaned +for the star's dressin'-room. +</P> + +<P> +He was brought on to play the lead in one of them early Roman frolics +where the extry people is called "martyrs" and hurled to the practical +lions in the last reel, whilst the emperor raises his hand for the +slaughter to begin, murmurin' "This is the end of a perfect day!" When +Jason Van Ness walked to the middle of the arena, throwed one end of +his cloak over his shoulder, faced the camera and give himself up to +actin'—well, you forgot all his bad habits and thanked Heaven for +lettin' you live to see him! +</P> + +<P> +That baby was there! +</P> + +<P> +He was stuck up, he had no friends, he wouldn't laugh, and he had a +trick name and carried a dresser, but, Sweet Papa!—he was <I>some</I> actor! +</P> + +<P> +The Kid and me stood watchin' him the first time he worked, with our +eyes and mouths as open as a mobile crap tourney. +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't he a bear?" asks Eddie Duke, comin' up. "That's all two-dollar +stuff he's pullin' there, bo! Y' don't see actin' like that every day, +eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I don't know!" says the Kid, takin' a fresh slant at Van Ness. "I +bet I could give him a battle in Shakespeare, at that! I was a riot in +'Richard the Third,' wasn't I?" +</P> + +<P> +"Cease!" sneers Duke. "This bird has got them classics layin' down and +rollin' over when he snaps his fingers. Did you ever see him in 'Quo +Vadis'?" +</P> + +<P> +"No!" says the Kid. "But I seen him in tights when they was—" +</P> + +<P> +Just then Miss Vincent comes along. She's in the picture with Van +Ness, playin' the beautiful Christian martyr which is tied to the +lion's back in the fourth reel, because she won't quit chantin' "Now I +lay me—" or somethin' like that. After that they throw her to the +panthers with Abe Mendelowitz, another Christian martyr and the guy +that built the scene. She told me that was the story of the thing, and +asked me what I thought of it. Personally, I think them martyrs was a +lot of boobs. If I'd have been there, I would have bent the knee +before them heathen idols and then done my private prayin' elsewhere. +The head martyr might have called me yellah, but no lion would have +broke his fast on me! +</P> + +<P> +While I'm thinkin' about this, Miss Vincent reminds me that she's +waitin' for my verdict on the thing. The last I heard her say was +about bein' tied to that lion. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I says, "I'll tell you. I think it's pretty soft for the lions +myself and—" +</P> + +<P> +"How are you and Stupid gettin' along?" butts in the Kid, pointin' to +Van Ness and touchin' Miss Vincent's arm. +</P> + +<P> +She frowns. +</P> + +<P> +"You mustn't call him Stupid!" she says. "Mister Van Ness is an artist +and a gentleman—and—and right now I want to tell you that I think all +you men are wicked for the way you have been treating him! Here he is +away out here, a stranger in a strange land, and simply because he is +above the vulgar horseplay so popular around here, you ostracize him. +Because his grammar and dress is perfect he is a pariah! Don't you +think he feels that? Isn't he human the same as the rest of you? +Why—why, if he were a woman, all the girls would have helped and +encouraged him and made him welcome in any gathering while he was here. +Don't you think it hurt when you broke up that poker party last night +when he came in? Or when he was deliberately excluded from that +hunting trip by that wretched Eddie Duke? Or any of the—the mean, +petty, little things you have done to him—all of you—since he's been +here? Oh, you men are horrid!" She gathers up her skirts and flashes +Scanlan a look, "I thought <I>you</I>, at least, were different!" she +whispers—and trips into the picture! +</P> + +<P> +For about three minutes the Kid stands lookin' after her without sayin' +a word. He acts like he has stopped one with his chin! +</P> + +<P> +"The big English stiff!" he busts out finally. "What does he mean by +comin' over here and gettin' me in a jam with my girl? I'll <I>get</I> that +bird, though, believe me!" +</P> + +<P> +"What are you gonna do?" I says. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm gonna take that solemn-faced simp back of the African Desert and +give him a chance at the welterweight title!" he snorts. "I'll wallop +that bird till he'll wish he had stayed over in dear old England and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Stoppa!" comes a voice from the back of us, and we look around into +the muzzles of two automatics. On the other end of them was Tony! +</P> + +<P> +"I hear everyt'ing!" he snarls, wavin' the guns and glarin' at us. "I +hear everyt'ing!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid looks at the guns and coughs, kinda nervous. I was glancin' at +friend Tony, myself. +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't that nice!" I remarks, feelin' my way carefully. +</P> + +<P> +"What you mean?" snarls the ex-"No spika da Engleesh." +</P> + +<P> +"Bein' able to hear everything," I explains, thinkin' to humour him. +"I'll bet right now you're listenin' to a little spicy scandal at some +King's palace, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't got funny!" he warns me. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha! ha!" snickers the Kid. "Where d'ye get that got funny stuff?" +</P> + +<P> +"What'sa that?" yells Tony, whirlin' on him and shovin' the guns under +his nose. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid gets pale and shuffles back a few steps. +</P> + +<P> +"No spika da Engleesh!" he pipes, holdin' up his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Pah!" grunts Tony, registerin' disgust. "Me—I laugh at you! All the +tima you talk 'bout Meester Van Ness, I standa righta here with the ear +wide open. You no feexa nobody—maybe Tony he'sa feexa you! I hear +you say you no lika Meester Van Ness because he'sa no laugha. Sure, +he'sa laugha—but not all the tima on the streeta like crazee fel'. +When Meester Van Ness—ah, he'sa granda man—when he'sa wanna laugha, +he'sa go home, to he'sa rooma, shutta the door and standa in the +corner. Then he'sa a laugha ha! ha! ha! ho! ho! ho!—lika that! +That'sa lasta heem all day!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Lady!" says the Kid, holdin' his side. "Can you tie that?" He +looks over and sees Van Ness in a clinch with Miss Vincent—and son, +you could see the muscles rollin' under his coat sleeves. "Look at the +big, ignorant boob now!" he howls. +</P> + +<P> +"Ignoranta!" hisses Tony. "Whata you mean, ignoranta? Seven +difference language thisa granda Meester Van Ness he'sa speak! He'sa +teacha everybody—joosta lika wan college!" +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you get him to teach you Eyetalian then, Stupid?" sneers the +Kid. "You're a fine thing to luck your way past Ellis Island when you +can't even tell me what <I>Bomb Germo</I> means!" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't got funny!" warns Tony. "What gooda now for you be fighting +champion for the world, eh? Leetle Tony he'sa standa here calla you +names and what can you do, eh? Nothing—joosta nothing! Champion, eh? +Ha, ha, ha! Don't maka me laugha, Meester Fightaire!" He shoves the +gun in the Kid's face and snarls, "Now!" he says. "Tella Tony you +feela sorry for soaka heem in jaw!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid bites his lip and edges in a bit. Right away I got sorry for +Tony! +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sorry!" sneers Scanlan slowly. "Awful sorry—just thinkin' of it +has got me all broke up. I meant to let you have it on the beak, but +I'll make up for it now!" +</P> + +<P> +He looks over Tony's shoulder suddenly and yells. "Hey, don't throw +that!" +</P> + +<P> +If they had rehearsed the act, Tony couldn't have fallen for the plant +any harder. He twists his neck around to look back like the Kid +figured and Scanlan started one from his left ankle. It caught Tony +right on the button—which in English is the point of the chin—and +Tony gives a imitation of a seal. He took a dive! +</P> + +<P> +While we're takin' him away from his artillery, I look up and there's +Van Ness lookin' down at us and frownin'. He reaches inside that Roman +toga thing he's wearin' and comes out with a round piece of glass which +he balances on one eye. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah—I say!" he pipes, glarin' at the Kid. "This is getting jolly +annoying, my man. It appears that every time we meet, you have just +committed a murderous assault upon my dresser! Since you are +the—ah—champion fighter of the universe, why do you not joust with +more of its inhabitants and not center your activities upon one who +knows nothing of the art of self-defense?" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid grunts, takin' away Tony's guns and removin' a couple of them +long banana knives from his clothes. Meanwhile, the daredevil dresser +is showin' no more signs of life than a sleepin' alligator, so I +figured it was about time to pull a little first aid stuff. I turned +him over on his back and took off his coat, grabbin' it by the bottom +and holdin' it up. They was a sudden crash and—Sweet Cookie! A lot +of things fell on the ground, among 'em bein' one set of brass +knuckles, one blackjack, two more guns, a thing that looked like a +bayonet, five boxes of cartridges, a small bottle of nitro-glycerine +and three sticks of dynamite! The last two fell in the folds of the +coat, or we'd all have gone away from there. Tony's master looks at +the layout with his eyes stickin' so far out of his head you could have +knocked 'em off with a cane. +</P> + +<P> +Scanlan eyes him and laughs. +</P> + +<P> +"This is the bird which don't know nothin' about self-defense, eh?" he +grins, pointin' to Tony. "Well, if he'd been in Belgium a few years +ago, I bet the Germans would never have got through!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, I say!" gasps Van Ness. "This is a bit of a shock! Why the +fellow is a walking arsenal!" +</P> + +<P> +"He's more like a sleepin' fort, now!" I says, pointin' to Tony on the +turf. +</P> + +<P> +"Look at the chances you been takin' havin' a guy like that fasten your +garters and so forth," pipes Scanlan. "You ought to thank us for +exposin' him!" +</P> + +<P> +Then Tony comes to life and havin' helped him down, the Kid helps him +up. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Sapristi</I>!" remarks Tony, glarin' at him. "You bigga stiffa! +Sometime Tony he'sa feexa you for dis! Whata you hitta me with?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think it was a left hook," the Kid tells him, rubbin' his chin, like +he ain't sure. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha!" snarls Tony. "I know you never hit with your feest sooch a +punch! Don't got funny with me any more! I wanna tella you, you keepa +up knock it down Tony every fiva, tena, fifteen minootes and some time +Tony he'sa got mad! When Tony he'sa got mad—" He stops and makes a +terrible face at me and the Kid, "—when Tony he'sa got mad, something +she'sa gotta fall!—dat'sa all!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you been doin' all the fallin' so far," I says, "and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah—I say!" butts in Van Ness—and Tony sees him for the first time, I +guess, because he shivered and got pale. "I say," he goes on, takin' a +slant at Tony through the trick eyeglass, "just what does this mean, +Antonio? Why are you walking about with this extraordinary collection +of weapons on your person?" He points his finger at the munitions on +the ground, and Tony's eyes follows his. At the same time he makes a +little clickin' noise in his throat and jumps for the pile. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is she the gooda carbolic acid?" he snarls. "And whosa taka my +eleven incha stiletto?" +</P> + +<P> +"How dare you ignore my question!" thunders Van Ness. "What are you +doing with all those weapons? Answer me!" +</P> + +<P> +"'Scuse a me!" says Tony, makin' a bow and takin' off his hat. "I +getta them for my brudda!" +</P> + +<P> +"Where's your brother?" asks the Kid. "In Russia?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Sno use <I>you</I> talka to me!" growls Tony, "I no talka back. Sometime +Tony he'sa getta mad and then—" +</P> + +<P> +"Come, come!" interrupts Van Ness, kinda sharp. "The weapons—what of +them?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Scuse a me!" bows Tony with another smile. "My brudda he'sa live in +Santa Francisco. He'sa fina fel'—my brudda. He'sa name Joe. He'sa +come this countree five years ago, no fren's, no spika da Engleesh, no +nothing! They putta heem in the basement of the sheepa wit' coupla +thousand other fel' from seventy-six other countree. One fel' say my +Joe he'sa no be able to leava the sheepa at—at—what you call? I +don't know—I teenk maybe Chicago, Pennsylvania, Coney Island—I don't +know joosta now! Anyhow thisa fel' say Joe he'sa no be able to leava +the sheepa wherever he'sa wanna go—eef he'sa got no money, you 'stanna +me? Joe he'sa tank dis kinda fel', say coupla nica prayer for heem and +then everybody she'sa a maka sleepa. Joe he'sa get up and taka four +hundred dollar from thisa nica fel'—whosa sleepa lika he'sa dead—so +Joe he'sa be able to leeva the sheepa! He'sa a smarta fel', eh? +That'sa Joe. He'sa my brudda!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Lady!" says the Kid. "What was you takin' him the ammunition for?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't spika to me!" snorts Tony. "I no answera you! I tella Meester +Van Ness. He'sa my boss. He'sa fina fel', too—joosta lika my brudda!" +</P> + +<P> +"How dare you!" splutters Van Ness, his face as red as a ale-hound's +nose. "What do you mean by that?" +</P> + +<P> +"'Scuse a me!" says Tony. "Don't get mad for Tony. No spika da +Engleesh very gooda—maybe I maka meestake! Joe he'sa writa me come +over Santa Francisco queek, because he'sa gotta the trouble wif he'sa +landlord. Disa fel' he'sa a wanta da rent maybe, I don't know, but Joe +he'sa wanta me bring something so he'sa can feex disa fel' nex' time he +come around, you 'stanna me? He say he'sa a bigga fel'—tougha nut! +Yesterday I go out and getta wan gun for Joe. Then I teenk maybe that +ain't enough for poor leetle Joe against thisa bigga stiffa landlord, +so I stoppa drugga store, hardaware, meata store, five, six, sevena +place and get somet'ing for Joe he'sa feex landlord. Then I hear thisa +fel' say he'sa gonna feexa <I>you</I>!" Tony swings around and points at +the Kid. "Tony he'sa don't care if thisa bigga stiffa he's a champion +for the world. Tony he's a gotta knifa, gun, dynamite, carbolic acida, +everything for fighta. I talka to heem sweeta and he'sa knocka me down +wit' a hook! While I sleepa on the dirt, somebody she'sa taka my gooda +carbolic acida and stiletto I getta for Joe!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Lady!" yells the Kid, slappin' me on the back. "This guy is a +riot!" +</P> + +<P> +"You may go to the hotel, Antonio," says Van Ness, "and await me there. +I am surprised and grieved at your beastly conduct!" +</P> + +<P> +Tony hands Van Ness a gun and the bottle of nitro-glycerine. +</P> + +<P> +"Alla right!" he says. "Tony he'sa go. But watcha this two fel' they +wanna feexa you. The little fel' you can shoota—but the bigga stiffa +whosa knocka me down, he'sa needa more than that! Taka thisa bottle +and throw it at heem harda. That'sa blow heem away so far, it taka +four thousand dollar for heem to come back on sheepa, thirda class!" +</P> + +<P> +Van Ness puts the gun and the nitro in Tony's pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"Begone, sir!" he says. "I'll jolly well attend to you later!" +</P> + +<P> +Tony gathers up his junk and throwin' a last glare at me and the Kid, +beats it. +</P> + +<P> +Van Ness turns to the Kid, stickin' the eyeglass back in the toga. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah—and now, Scanlan," he says, "will you be good enough to explain +the cause of the—ah—bitter animosity you have for me?" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid frowns and scratches his head. +</P> + +<P> +"Somebody has been kiddin' you," he tells him. "I ain't got <I>nothin'</I> +for you! Where d'ye get that animosity thing?" +</P> + +<P> +Van Ness sighs so hard it like to blowed our hats off. +</P> + +<P> +"It is beastly plain to me," he says, "that I am about as popular in +Film City as a cloudburst at a picnic! I am snubbed, ridiculed, +vulgarly and subtly insulted! Also I am white and human and—ah—I +must confess it has penetrated my skin. <I>You</I> are particularly bitter +against me—why?" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid studies him for a minute. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen!" he answers finally. "Are you on the level with this? D'ye +really wanna know, or are you simply askin' me so's you can pull one of +them witty remarks on the way I answer you—<I>and get walloped on the +beak</I>?" +</P> + +<P> +Van Ness did somethin' then I never seen him do before and only once +afterward. <I>He grinned</I>! The Roman toga fell off his shoulders, and +he leans over with his hands on his hips. On the level, his whole face +seemed to change! And then— +</P> + +<P> +Oh, boy! +</P> + +<P> +"Listen, guy!" pipes this big, dignified whatnot. "I'm on the level, +all right and I want the lowdown on this thing, d'ye make me?" (Me and +the Kid nearly went dead on our feet listenin'.) "As for wallopin' me +on the beak, well—you may be welterweight champion out here, but if +you start anything with <I>me</I>, I'll remove you from the title, d'ye get +that?" +</P> + +<P> +Woof! +</P> + +<P> +The Kid and me falls back against a rock, fightin' for air! +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Lady!" whispers the Kid, fannin' himself with his hat. "Did you +hear what I did?" +</P> + +<P> +"Call me at seven!" I gasps. +</P> + +<P> +"Well—?" drawls Van Ness, lookin' us over. +</P> + +<P> +"They's just one thing I'd like to know," murmurs the Kid, wipin' his +forehead with my handkerchief in the excitement. "What part of dear +old England was <I>you</I> born in?" +</P> + +<P> +Van Ness grins some more. +</P> + +<P> +"Brooklyn!" he says, jerkin' out the eye glass again and stickin' it on +his eye. "Surely, my man," he goes on, with that old silly stare of +his; "surely you have heard of jolly old Brooklyn—what?" +</P> + +<P> +"I know it well!" says the Kid. "It's on the wrong end of the bridge! +But where d'ye get the 'my man' thing? And what have you been goin' +around like a Swiss duke or somethin', when it turns out you're only a +roughneck from Brooklyn? You wanna know why you don't belong, and +don't fit in here, eh? Well, you big hick, where d'ye get that Sedate +Sam stuff?" He slaps Van Ness on the arm. "Why in the Hail Columbia +don't you bust out and giggle now and then, hey?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't I?" snarls Van Ness, "Don't you think I'd <I>like</I> to? Don't +you think I would if I could, you boob?" +</P> + +<P> +"Would if you <I>could</I>?" repeats the Kid. "What's the matter—have you +got lockjaw?" +</P> + +<P> +"No!" roars Van Ness, so sudden that we both sidestepped. "No! Not +lockjaw, worse! <I>Dignity</I>!" +</P> + +<P> +"Have you give the mud baths at Hot Springs a play?" I asks. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop it!" he sneers. "Cease that small time comedy! I'm the most +dignified person in the world—the undisputed champion! I'm Frowning +Frank and Imposing Ike rolled into one. It hurts me more than it does +you, but I can't help it! I fail to remember the last time I enjoyed a +hearty laugh and I know it will be a darned long space before I'll +snicker again. My laugher has gone unused for so long that it's +atrophied and won't work. I've tried warming it up by going home at +night and guffawing before the mirror, but the result is only a +mirthless giggle—a ghostly chortle! Of course, I wouldn't dare +attempt to laugh in public!" +</P> + +<P> +"Do what?" asks the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +"Laugh!" answers Van Ness bitterly. "I can't even let myself think of +doing it—why, it would ruin me! My dignity is all I have. It's my +stock in trade and without it I would lose my income! Were I to unbend +and shatter the air with harmless cachinnation, it would be thought at +once that I had been drinking!" He stopped and sighed some more. "It +began ten years ago," he goes on. "I was playing small parts in a +stock company and one week I was cast for a Roman senator. Being +anxious to make good, I made that noble so dignified that the local +critics dismissed the play with a few paragraphs and gave half a column +to my stately bearing! That started it, and from that time I've played +nothing but Romans, kings, governors, cardinals and similar roles, +calling for my infernal talent in the one direction. Mechanically I +grew to playing them <I>on and off</I>, yet all the time within me burns the +desire to do rough and tumble, yes, by Heaven, slapstick comedy! But +alas, I lack the moral courage to throw off the yoke!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Mister Van Ness—" I begins, when the silence begun to hurt, +"I—" +</P> + +<P> +"Not Van Ness!" he interrupts. "The name is as false as my manner! My +name is Fink, Eddie Fink, and please don't add the Mister. When a lad +I had a nickname, but, alas, I—" +</P> + +<P> +"What was it?" butts in the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +He hesitates. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, it was rather frivolous," he says. "As indeed I was myself—a +happy, carefree youth! The boys called me Foolish—Foolish Fink!" He +throws out his chest like he just realized how he had been honored at +the time. +</P> + +<P> +Me and the Kid both had a coughin' fit. +</P> + +<P> +"Let's go over to Montana Bill's," I says, when I thought it was safe +to look up, "and we'll talk it over." +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh!" chimes in the Kid. "Over a tray of private stock!" He laughs +and slaps alias Van Ness on the shoulder. "Cheer up! Foolish Fink, +will you have a little drink? Woof, woof! I'm a poet!" +</P> + +<P> +"Thanks!" says Van Ness. "But I'm on the wagon. I stopped drinking +five years ago, because under the influence of alcohol I've been known +to act the fool!" +</P> + +<P> +"You ain't the only one!" says the Kid. "Anyhow I never touch it +myself and Johnny here only uses it on his hair! But come on over—you +can have your pants pressed or take a shine, I'm gonna buy, and you +might as well get in on it. Bill's got a laughin' hyena in a cage +outside, and maybe you could get him to rehearse you!" +</P> + +<P> +About a week after that, the society bunch in Frisco comes over to Film +City to act in a picture for the benefit of the electric fan fund for +Greenland, or somethin' like that. About fifty of the future +corespondents, known to the trade as the younger set, blows over in +charge of a dame who had passed her thirty-sixth birth and bust day +when Napoleon was a big leaguer. She had did well by herself though +and when dressed for the street, they was harder things to look at than +her. Also, when her last husband died, he left her a bankroll that +when marked in figures on paper looked like it was the number of +Southerners below Washington. A little bit of a guy, which turned +around when you yelled "G. Herbert Gale" at him, breezed over with her +and at first I had him figured as a detective seekin' divorce evidence, +because he stuck to that dame like a cheap vaudeville act does to the +American flag. He trailed a few paces behind her everywhere she went, +callin' her "Mrs. Roberts-Miller" in public and "Helen Dear" when he +figured nobody was listenin'. It was easy to see that he had crashed +madly in love with this charmer, but as far as she was concerned they +was nothin' stirrin'. +</P> + +<P> +Except that G. Herbert was inclined to be a simp, he wasn't a bad guy +at that. He mixed well and bought freely, although he was riveted to +the water wagon himself. He bragged to me in fact that the nearest he +ever come to alcohol in his life was once when he used it to clean his +diamonds. +</P> + +<P> +But G. Herbert was the guy that invented the ancient and honorable +order of village cut-ups. I never asked him what the G stood for in +his name, I guessed it the first day he was in our midst. It meant +"Giggle!" This here Herbert person was a laughin' fool! The first +time I talked with him I thought I was cheatin' myself by only bein' +Scanlan's manager. I figured I ought to be in vaudeville knockin' 'em +dead for five hundred a week, because G. Herbert roared at everything I +said. He screamed with mirth at all the old ones and had hysterics +over three or four witty remarks I remembered from a show I seen the +night of the Johnstown flood. I thought, of course, it was the way I +put the stuff over, and I was just gonna give the Kid my fare-you-well, +when I seen G. Herbert standin' by a practical undertakers shop that +was fixed up for a fillum. The little simp was standin' over a coffin +laughin' his head off! +</P> + +<P> +That cured me, but him and the Kid become great little pals. I found +out later it was on account of G. Herbert snickerin' at the Kid's +comedy. Scanlan hadn't discovered it was a habit with this guy, and he +claimed here was a feller that knowed humor when he seen it. +</P> + +<P> +One afternoon I see Scanlan and Miss Vincent whisperin' together like +yeggmen outside a postoffice. They called me over, and the Kid tells +me that the society bunch was gonna leave us flat on the midnight +train, and before they blowed, Potts was gonna give 'em a dinner and +dance. All the movie crowd was to mix with Frisco's four hundred, so's +that both could enjoy the experience and say they took a chance once in +their lives. +</P> + +<P> +But the thing that was botherin' Miss Vincent—(Some dame, that! She +was the world's champion woman, believe me!) The thing that worried +her was G. Herbert and Helen Dear, alias Mrs. Roberts-Miller. Likin' +'em both, Miss Vincent wanted to hurl 'em together for good and all +before the train pulled out. +</P> + +<P> +It seems the only objection the dame had to G. Herbert was the fact +that he couldn't keep from laughin'. She had him figured as a +eighteen-carat simp and frequently told him so, addin' that she could +never marry a man who was shy on dignity. Then she gets a flash at our +old pal Jason Van Ness or Eddie Fink, as he claimed, and she fell so +hard for him she liked to broke her neck! Here was the only original +Sedate Sam! Here was the guy she was willin' and anxious to lead to +the altar and then to the old safe deposit vault! He was so handsome! +So dignified! Such a splendid actor! That's the stuff she was always +handin' poor little G. Herbert and askin' him why <I>he</I> wasn't like +that? G. Herbert would shake his head, giggle, and say he didn't know +why, but he'd ask his parents. +</P> + +<P> +Van Ness couldn't see Helen Dear with opera glasses. He told me he +hated 'em stout, and, if possible, had figured on weddin' somebody +within ten years of his age—either way. I then felt it my duty to +inform him that her bankroll was stouter than she was. He goes into +high speed on the dignity thing and sets sail for Helen Dear like a +bloodhound after a nigger. He didn't want to look like a vulgar +fortune hunter, he claimed, but he figured if he could get his fingers +on a piece of Helen's dough, he could bribe G. Herbert to teach him the +art of laughin'. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid tells Miss Vincent to forget about the thing, and he would +guarantee that G. Herbert and Helen Dear went away threatenin' to marry +each other. She said she'd leave the matter in our hands and held hers +out. I shook it and Scanlan kissed it—a trick he stole from Van Ness. +</P> + +<P> +The dinner and dance that night was a knockout! Film City is lit up +like a plumber used to be on Saturday night, and the inhabitants is +dressed like the people that poses for the ads of any cigarette over +fifteen cents a pack. As usual, Miss Vincent had the rest of the dames +lookin' like sellin' platers in stake race and, believe me, some of +them society girls would have worried Venus. The Kid was so swelled up +because she kept within easy call all night that he forgot his promise +to fix up G. Herbert with Helen Dear. The latter, as we remark at the +laundry, was closer to Van Ness all night than the ocean is to the +beach, and it looked like the Kid was gonna have a tough time breakin' +'em up. +</P> + +<P> +Along around eleven, Miss Vincent calls Scanlan aside and reminds him +that he had better start workin' for G. Herbert, because they would all +be beatin' it for the train in a hour. She also give out that, if he +didn't make good, she was off him for life. Scanlan bows—another +trick he copped from Van Ness—and takes me away down at the end of the +lawn to dope somethin' out. +</P> + +<P> +I tripped over what I thought at first was a dead body and me and the +Kid props it up in the light. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha!" it says. "Tony he'sa laugha at you! Tony he'sa laugha at +everybody! <I>Bomb Germo</I>! thisa fel' tella me—ha, ha, ha!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid grunts in disgust, lets go and Tony bounces back on the lawn. +</P> + +<P> +"Stewed to the scalp!" says Scanlan. "Frisk him!" +</P> + +<P> +I run my hands over Tony and bring forth a bottle of gin and another +one of bourbon. The Kid looks 'em over, finally stickin' 'em both in +his coat pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on!" he tells me. "They's no use hangin' around here. If I +don't get back there, some of them Wealthy Willies that have been +wishin' all night will be one-steppin' with Miss Vincent!" +</P> + +<P> +"But how about G. Herbert?" I says. +</P> + +<P> +"He's got my best wishes!" growls the Kid. "He's a nice little feller, +but that's the best I can do. What d'ye think I am—Cupid?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, gimme the alcohol then!" I says. "You ain't gonna fall off the +wagon are you, when—" +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up, Stupid!" he butts in. "I wouldn't take a drink of this stuff +for what Rockefeller gets for overtime! I want to get it away from +that wop, so's he'll have somethin' to moan about when he wakes up." +</P> + +<P> +We went back to the party, and a couple of dames standin' at the punch +bowl calls to the Kid. He always was a riot with the women! Helen +Dear is there with Van Ness, and he's got to where he's pattin' her +hand, while G. Herbert stands in back of 'em lookin' like he wished he +had some nails to bite. +</P> + +<P> +I come to a table and there's Miss Vincent sittin' alone and she +motions me to sit down with her—so's my back would hide her from the +rest of the bunch. She says a little bit of society went a long ways +with her, and where was the Kid? Before I can answer her along comes +Helen Dear and she plumps down at the table and starts to tell us what +a magnificent man Mister Van Ness was. She claims she never seen such +a perfect gentleman in her life. I liked to snickered out loud at the +disappointed way she pulled that one and then the Kid, G. Herbert and +Van Ness suddenly comes around a tree and joins the party. +</P> + +<P> +Scanlan winks at Miss Vincent, and she looks at him inquiringly, but he +just shakes his head. I noticed that G. Herbert looked kinda sad, and +he must have put his giggler away because he just sat lookin' down at +the ground. Van Ness is full of life—I never seen him so cheerful—so +I figured that while them and the Kid was alone, Van Ness must have +told 'em that Helen Dear had proposed or accepted him. +</P> + +<P> +Finally, Helen Dear looks at her wrist watch and says she'll have to +tear herself away, because the train leaves in fifteen minutes. She +wastes five of that throwin' soulful looks at Van Ness and he give back +as good as he got. G. Herbert offers to get her wraps, comin' to life +long enough to make the request, but Helen Dear gives him a sneerin' +look and says there was servants there for that purpose. It was a +terrible throwdown, and Van Ness nearly grinned, but G. Herbert gamely +tried a giggle that sounded like the squeak of a stepped-on rat. +</P> + +<P> +While Helen Dear is gettin' into a coat that couldn't have cost a +nickel under five thousand bucks, the Kid gets up and calls Van Ness +and G. Herbert aside. They was gone about five minutes. When they +came back, Helen Dear is just puttin' on her hat and suddenly the thing +slips out of her hands and slides down over one eye. +</P> + +<P> +Then—excuse me a minute, I'm in convulsions! I'll never forget it if +I live to see Bryan vote against prohibition! There's Helen Dear +gettin' red in the face and strugglin' with that hat and— +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" shrieks Van Ness—<I>the guy that had lost his +laugher</I>!—"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" he yells, holdin' the chair so's he can +stand up and pointin' at Helen's hat. "You ought to go in vaudeville!" +he hollers. "You'd be a riot with that act! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Vincent gasps, the Kid grins, and I all but fainted. Here's this +guy laughin' his head off for the first time in ten years and—look at +the time he picked to do it! Sweet Cookie! +</P> + +<P> +Helen Dear turns eighteen shades of red and fights for her breath like +a fish when you drag it over the side of the boat. Then up steps +little G. Herbert. His eyes is kinda glassy, but his face is set and +hard. His spine is as straight as a flag pole and he sticks a piece of +glass over one eye, just like Van Ness used to do! Dignity? Why he +could have took Van Ness when that guy was right—<I>and give him +lessons</I>! +</P> + +<P> +"What does this mean, sir!" he says, walkin' up to Van Ness who is +holdin' his sides and fallin' off the chair. Laugh? That bird was in +hysterics! +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha, ha!" bellers Van Ness. "Get a couple of good camera men +quick! Ha, ha, ha, ha! It looks like she got hit with a pie!" +</P> + +<P> +"You infernal idiot!" roars G. Herbert. "How dare you laugh at this +lady?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, boy!" answers Van Ness, finally rollin' off his chair. "Ha, ha, +ha, ha!" +</P> + +<P> +"Come, Herbert!" pipes Helen. "We will go back together and my answer +is Yes! Thank Heaven that man stands exposed in his true character!" +</P> + +<P> +"Thas' right!" nods Herbert, waggin' his head and glarin' at all of us. +"C'mon—hic—Cmon, M' dear!" +</P> + +<P> +Somethin' comes staggerin' up and grabs the Kid by the arm. It was +Tony. +</P> + +<P> +"Aha!" he yells. "Who'sa taka my bottle gin, bottle bourbon? +<I>Sapristi</I>! You bigga stiffa, I—" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid gives him a slow straight arm, and Tony goes over the table +backwards, landin' right beside his master. +</P> + +<P> +"No spika da Engleesh!" says Scanlan, as Tony disappears. +</P> + +<P> +I grabbed him by the arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Show me them bottles," I says, gettin' wise in a flash. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid takes out two <I>empty</I> non-refillables and tosses 'em in the +grass. +</P> + +<P> +"My!" he says, dreamily. "How that little guy went to it!" +</P> + +<P> +Toot! Toot! Toot! goes the Santa Fe flier pullin' out with G. Herbert +and Helen Dear. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha—ho, ho, ho, ho!" screams Van Ness from +under the table. "She promised—ha, ha, ha! to cheer me up—hic—ha, +ha, ha! and she—hic—certainly—ha, ha, ha!—made good!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VI +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +THE UNHAPPY MEDIUM +</H4> + +<P> +They may be such a thing as a ghost, but I don't believe it! At the +same time, I'm willin' to admit that my feelin's in the matter ain't +gonna prove the ruin of the haunted house promoters. They's a whole +lot of things which I look on as plain and simple bunk, that the +average guy studies at college. But the reason I say they <I>may</I> be, is +because when me and Kid Scanlan come back East this year we stopped off +somewheres in the hurrah for prohibition part of the country and was +showed over what the advertisin' matter admitted to be the greatest +bakery in the world. +</P> + +<P> +I think them ad writers was modest fellers. That joint was not only +the world's greatest bakery, it was the world's greatest <I>anything</I>! +</P> + +<P> +I never really knowed a thing about bread, except that you put butter +on it, until I give that place the up and down. +</P> + +<P> +What I don't know about the staff of life now would never get you +through Yale. I might go farther than that and come right out with the +fact that I have become a abandoned bread fiend and got to have it or I +foam at the mouth, since I seen how it was made at this dough foundry. +</P> + +<P> +A accommodatin' little guy took hold of me and the Kid and showed us +all over the different machine shops where this here bread was mixed, +baked and what-notted for the trade. Our charmin' guide must have come +from a family of auctioneers and circus barkers and he never heard of +no sums under ten or eleven thousand in his life. He knowed more about +figures than Joe Grady, who once filled in a summer with a Russian +ballet, and he had been wound up and set to deliver chatter at the rate +of three words a second, provided the track was fast and he got off in +front. He talked with his whole body, waggin' his head, movin' his +arms and shufflin' his feet. When he got warmed up and goin' good, he +pushed forward at you with his hands like he was tryin' to insert his +chatter right into you. +</P> + +<P> +He leads us to a spot about half a mile from where we come in, holds up +his hands to Heaven, coughs, blows his nose and gives a little shiver. +</P> + +<P> +"Over there!" he bellers, without no warnin'. "Over there is our +marvelous, mastadon, mixin' shop. We use 284,651 pounds of +scrupulously sifted and freshly flavored flour, one million cakes of +elegant yeast and 156,390 pounds of bakin' powder each and every year! +We employ 865 magnificent men there and they get munificent money. We +don't permit the use of drugs, alcoholics, tobacco or unions! The men +works eight easy hours a delightful day, six days a week and they are +happy, hardy and healthy! Promotion is regular, rapid and regardless! +Our employees is all loyal, likable and Lithuanians! They own their +own cottages, clothes and chickens, bein' thrifty, temperate and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Tasty!" I yells. I couldn't, keep it in no longer! +</P> + +<P> +"What?" snaps the little guy, kinda sore. +</P> + +<P> +"Lay off, Stupid!" says the Kid to me, with a openly admirin' glance at +the runt. "Go on with your story," he nods to him. "Never mind +Senseless, here, I'm gettin' every word of it!" +</P> + +<P> +The little hick glares at me and points to a shack on the left. +</P> + +<P> +"Over there," he pipes. "Over there is our shippin' plant where the +freshly finished and amazingly appetizin' loaves are carefully counted +and accurately assembled! For this painstakin' performance we employ +523 more men. None but the skilled, superior +and—and—eh—Scandinavian are allowed in that diligent department, and +each and every day a grand, glorious total of ten thousand lovely +loaves is let loose with nothin' missin' but the consumer's contented +cackle as he eagerly eats! We even garnish each loaf with a generous +gob of Gazoopis—our own ingenuous invention—before they finally +flitter forth! Would you like to see the shop?" +</P> + +<P> +"I certainly wish <I>I</I> could sling chatter like that!" answers the Kid +with a sigh. "But I guess it's all in the way a guy was brung up. +Gobs of generous Gazoopis!" he mutters, turnin' the words over in his +mouth like they was sweet morsels. "Gobs of generous Gazoopis! Oh, +boy!" +</P> + +<P> +The little guy throws out his chest and bows with a "I-thank-you" look +all over his face. He got me sore just watchin' him. Y'know that runt +hated himself! +</P> + +<P> +"Say!" I says to him. "If all that stuff you claim for this roll +foundry is on the level, it must take a lot of dough to run it, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Are you tryin' to kid me?" he sneers. +</P> + +<P> +"No!" I comes back. "But speakin' of bakeries, I'd sacrifice my sacred +silk socks for a flash at them skilled Scandinavians assemblin' that +bread, before I move on to nasty New York!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid slaps me on the back and grins. +</P> + +<P> +"Go on, Foolish!" he says. "You got this bird on the ropes!" He turns +to the runt. "All I want," he goes on, "is one peep at them likable +Lithuanians—can I git that?" +</P> + +<P> +"You guys is as funny as pneumonia to me!" snorts the little guy, +gettin' red in the face. "That stuff may pass for comedy in Yonkers or +wherever you hicks blowed in from, but it don't git no laugh outa me! +D'ye wanna see this shop or don't you—yes or no?" +</P> + +<P> +"Let's go!" I tells him. "You got me all worked up about it!" +</P> + +<P> +"Same here!" says the Kid. "I only wish I could talk like you can, but +I guess it's a gift, ain't it?" +</P> + +<P> +The little guy grunts somethin' and nods for us to fall in behind him, +and we lock step along till we come to another joint from which was +issuin' what I'll lay eight to five was all the noise in the world. +How they ever gathered it up and got it in the buildin' I don't know, +but I do know it was there! If you'd take a bowlin' alley on +Turnverein night, a boiler factory workin' on a rush order and the +battle of Gettysburg, wind 'em up and set 'em all off at once, you +might get a faint idea of how the inmates of that buildin' was ruinin' +the peace and quiet of the surroundin' country. A dynamite explosion +in the next block would have attracted as much attention as a whisper +in a steamfittin' shop. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought the war was all over!" hollers the Kid, holdin' his ears. +"Has the police been tipped off about this?" +</P> + +<P> +"What d'ye mean the police?" screams back the runt. "That there is the +mixin' and bakin' shop." +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" I cuts in. "Well, I don't know what them skilled Scandinavians +of yours is at, but, believe me, they're <I>tryin'</I> all right!" +</P> + +<P> +The runt sneers at us. +</P> + +<P> +"You must be a fine pair of hicks!" he says. "D'ye mean to say you +never heard of the Eureka Mixin' and Bakin' machine?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can hear it now, all right!" I tells him, noddin' to the buildin' +where the boilermakers was havin' a field day, "but—" +</P> + +<P> +"Sufferin' salmon, what boobs!" he interrupts me. Then he gives us +both the once over and starts his sneerer workin' again. "Say!" he +asks me. "Who d'ye like to win the battle of Santiago and d'ye think +Lincoln will git elected again?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know," I comes back. "I'm gonna vote for Jefferson myself!" +I looks him right in the eye. "I think Washington is a sucker to hang +around Valley Forge all winter, don't you?" I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"Couple of small time cut-ups, eh?" he says, shakin' his head. "Where +d'ye come from?" +</P> + +<P> +"New York," the Kid tells him, "and listen—will you do me a favor and +let's hear some more about them likable Lithuanians and gobs of +generous Gazoopis?" +</P> + +<P> +"I figured you come from some hick burg like New York," says the runt, +ignorin' the Kid's request. "I can spot a guy from New York ten miles +away! He knocks Brooklyn, thinks walkin' up Broadway is seein' life, +was born in Memphis and is the only thing that keeps the mail order +houses in Oshkosh from goin' to the wall! New Yorkers, eh?" he winds +up with another insultin' sneer. "I got you!" +</P> + +<P> +"Gobs of generous Gazoopis!" mutters the Kid like he's in a trance. +"Sweet Papa!" +</P> + +<P> +The runt looks at him. +</P> + +<P> +"How does <I>that</I> bird fool the almshouse?" he asks me. +</P> + +<P> +I bent down so's I could whisper in the side of his little dome. Them +skilled Scandinavians in the buildin' had gone crazy or else some of +the night shift had come in with more boilers and things to hit 'em +with. +</P> + +<P> +"That's Kid Scanlan, welterweight champion of the world!" I hisses in +his ear. +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha!" laughs the runt. "That's who he'd <I>like</I> to be, you mean!" +</P> + +<P> +"Our employees is all hale, hearty and hilarious!" grins the Kid at +him. "We pay 'em off in money, music and mush! Wow!" +</P> + +<P> +"If that big stiff is tryin' to kid me," begins the runt, gettin' red +again, "he—" +</P> + +<P> +"All right, all right!" I butts in quickly. "Don't let's have no +violence. Show us what makes that shop go, and we'll grab the next +rattler for New York. Y'know the Kid fights Battlin' Edwards on the +twenty-first and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Are you on the <I>level</I> with that stuff?" interrupts the runt, still +lookin' at the Kid. "Is that really Kid Scanlan?" +</P> + +<P> +I calls the Kid over. +</P> + +<P> +"Kid," I says, "meet Mister—er—" +</P> + +<P> +"Sapp," says the runt. "Joe Sapp!" He sticks out his hand. "I +remember you now," he tells the Kid. "I seen you fight some tramp in +Fort Wayne last year. I think you hit this guy with everything but the +referee and that's why I like your work. When <I>I</I> send in three bucks +for a place to sit down at a box fight, I expect to see assault and +batter and not the Virginia Reel! Why—" +</P> + +<P> +"Not to give you a short answer," I butts in, "but how about the insane +asylum over there?" I points to the buildin'. "Do we see that or +don't we?" +</P> + +<P> +Right away he straightens up and sticks his finger at it. +</P> + +<P> +"It takes exactly twelve, temptin' minutes to completely compose and +accurately assemble a loaf!" he shouts. "We never heard of waste, and +efficiency was born in this factory. The only thing that loafs here is +the bread! Each eager employee has his own particular part to perform +and that accounts for the amazin' and awesome accuracy with which we +bake the beautiful bread. Step this way!" +</P> + +<P> +"Believe me!" says the Kid, "I wish I had a line of patter like that! +'Amazin' and awesome accuracy'!" he repeats. "Do you get that?" +</P> + +<P> +Right then about a dozen dames and their consorts come breezin' in the +main entrance. Offhand, they look like the hicks that gives the +"Seein' New York" busses a play, and when the runt spots them he ducks +and grabs my arm. +</P> + +<P> +"C'mon!" he says. "Shake it up! If them boobs see me, I'll have to +show 'em all over the plant! That's a gang of them Snooks' Tourists, +seein' the world for fourteen eighty-five a-piece, breakfast at hotel +on third mornin' out and bus from train included! Most of them is +wisenheimers from Succotash Crossin', Mo.; and they're out to see that +they don't get cheated. They're gonna see everything like it says on +the ticket, and some of 'em is ready to sue Snooks because they got +somethin' in their eye from lookin' out the train window and missed +eight telegraph poles and a water tank on account of it. The rest of +them sits around knockin' everything on general principles and claimin' +the thing is a fake. Then there'll be one old guy in the party with a +trick horn he holds to his ear, and, when I get all through tellin' 'em +about the mixin' shop, the deef guy will say, 'Hey? What was that +about the airship again?' There will also be three veteran +school-teachers which will want samples of the bread and hide out a +couple of rolls on the side. And then one young married couple which +started sayin' 'Wonderful!' when the train pulled out of the old home +town and which has said nothin' else but that since! No, sir! I'm off +them tourists—c'mon, sneak around here!" +</P> + +<P> +He boldly walks into the buildin' where all the noise is comin' from, +and not wantin' to act yellah before strangers we followed him in. +They was a lot of things in there and if you ever make the town, Joe +Sapp will show 'em to you. He has to, in order to eat. But the only +thing I remember was the way them lovely, luxurious loaves was +artistically assembled, and I'll remember that little item till the +insurance company pays off! +</P> + +<P> +They was a great, big machine in the middle of the floor and that was +the thing that was makin' the bread and noise. A half dozen of them +skilled Scandinavians stood away up on a gallery at one end and their +job was of a pourin' nature. They was all dressed in white and wore +little trick hats on which it said this, "No Human Hands Touch It." I +didn't know whether it meant the skilled Scandinavians or the beautiful +bread. +</P> + +<P> +"The most marvelous, magnificent, mammoth invention of the age!" bawls +the runt so's we could hear him over the noise. "Here is where the +beautiful bread is blissfully baked by the wonderful workmen! This +machine cost the sensational sum of half a million dollars, and its +capacity is a trifle over five hundred finely finished luscious loaves +each and every—" +</P> + +<P> +That's all I heard because I went in a trance from watchin' the thing. +I never seen nothin' like it before and I know darn well I never will +again. Listen! Them skilled Scandinavians poured in raw wheat at one +end of this here machine, and it come out the other end, steamin' hot +bread! Some machine, eh? Not only that, but when it come out, it was +baked, labelled, wrapped in oil paper and smellin' most heavenly from +that generous gob of Gazoopis, as the runt said. +</P> + +<P> +I dragged the Kid outside and we started for the railroad station +without comment. As we passed out the door, we heard the runt +screamin', probably thinkin' we was still there. +</P> + +<P> +"One section reduces the wheat to flour, another mixes the dough, it +passes on to the steam ovens and then what happens? <I>Bread</I>! Over +here—" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid stops all of a sudden, takes a hitch in his belt and looks back +at the shop. +</P> + +<P> +"Hell!" he says. "They <I>can't</I> make no bread like that!" +</P> + +<P> +"You seen 'em do it, didn't you?" I asks him, although I was thinkin' +the same thing myself. +</P> + +<P> +"Even at that," he comes back, "I don't believe it!" +</P> + +<P> +We walks on a little ways, and the Kid stops again. +</P> + +<P> +"I certainly wish I could talk like that little runt!" he shoots out. +"Take it from me, that bird is there forty ways. He's got Webster +lookin' like a dummy!" +</P> + +<P> +He keeps on mutterin' to himself as we breeze up to the station, and, +when I lean over to get an earful I hear him sayin', "They're all +simple, sassy and suckers! We feed 'em oranges, oatmeal and olives!" +</P> + +<P> +So, as I said before, they <I>may</I> be such a thing as ghosts. After +watchin' that bread bakin' machine at play I'll go further than that. +There may be <I>anything</I>! +</P> + +<P> +One day at the trainin' camp, a couple of weeks after we hit New York, +a handler comes to me and says they's two guys outside that wants to +see the Kid. I hopped out to take a flash at 'em, but the Kid has been +reached, and when I come on the scene he's shakin' hands with 'em. One +of these guys was dressed the way the public thinks bookmakers and con +men doll up and he wore one of them sweet, trustin' innocent faces like +you see on the villain in a dime novel. He looked to me like he'd +steal a sunflower seed from a blind parrot. +</P> + +<P> +But it was the other guy that was the riot to me. +</P> + +<P> +He was tall and lanky, dressed all in black like the pallbearer the +undertaker furnishes, and the saddest-lookin' boob I ever seen in my +life! If he wasn't the original old Kid Kill-Joy, he was the bird that +rehearsed him, believe me! Y'know just from lookin' at this guy, a man +would get to thinkin' about his past life, the time he throwed the baby +down the well when but a playful child, how old his parents was gettin' +and the time Shorty Ellison run off with the red-headed dame that lived +over the butcher's. You wished you had saved your money or somebody +else's, suddenly findin' out that it was a tough world where a poor man +didn't have a Chinaman's chance, and you wondered if death by drownin' +was painful or not. +</P> + +<P> +That's the way it made you feel when you just looked at this guy. Ever +see one of 'em? +</P> + +<P> +He had a trick of sighin'. Not just ordinary heaves, but deep, dark +and gloomy sighs that took all the life out of whoever he sighed at. +If they had that bird over in Europe, they never would have been no +war, because when he started sighin', nobody would have had enough +ambition left to fight. Every time he opened his mouth I thought he +was gonna say, "Merciful Heaven help us all!" or somethin' like that. +But he didn't. He just sighed. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid tells me the riot of color was Honest Dan Leduc, and that he +was the best behaved guy that ever spent a week end in Sing Sing, where +he had gone every now and then to study jail conditions at the request +of thirteen men, the same bein' a judge and a jury. The sad-lookin' +boob was Professor Pietro Parducci, the well known medium. +</P> + +<P> +"Medium what?" I says, when the Kid pulls that one. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid frowns at me and turns to his new found friends. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't mind Foolish here," he tells 'em, "he's got the idea that +everything is crooked. He thinks the war was a frame-up for the +movies, and the Kaiser got double-crossed, but he ain't a bad guy at +that. He knows more about makin' money than a lathe hand at the mint." +He jerks his thumb at Honest Dan and swings around on me. "This guy +and me was brung up together," he explains, "and before I went into the +fight game we was as close as ninety-nine and a hundred. He's been all +over the world since then, he says so himself, but just now he's up +against it. It seems he was runnin' a pool room on Twenty-Eighth +Street and he give the wrong winner of the Kentucky Derby to the +precinct captain. The next mornin' the captain give every cop in the +station house a axe and Dan's address. His friend here is a now, +whosthis and—" +</P> + +<P> +Honest Dan pulls what I bet he thought was a pleasant smile. It +reminded me more of a laughin' hyena. +</P> + +<P> +"One minute!" he butts in. "My friend, the world-renowed Professor +Parducci, is a medium, a mystic and a swami. He's the seventh son of a +seventh son, born with a veil and spent two years in Indiana with the +yogi. He can peer into the future or gaze back at the past. He is in +direct communication with the spirits of the dear departed and as a +crystal gazer and palmist he stands alone!" +</P> + +<P> +"That's a great line of patter, Dan," says the Kid, "but we met a guy +on the trip back that had the English language layin' down and rollin' +over when he snapped his fingers. Generous gobs of Gazoopis and +likable, loyal Lithuanians! Can you tie that?" +</P> + +<P> +I was still lookin' over the gloomy guy with the name that sounded like +a brand of olive oil, and I decided he was the bunk. I asked him could +he tell my fortune, and he draws himself up and claims he's not in +harmony just now. That was the tip-off to me, and I figures he has +come out to take the Kid for his bankroll. I knowed he couldn't tell +no fortunes the minute I seen him. He didn't look to me as if he could +tell his own name, and I bet all the spirits he ever communicated with +was called private stock. The end of his nose was as red as a four +alarm fire and the back of his collar was all wore off from where he +had kept throwin' back his head so's the saloon keepers could meet +expenses. Honest Dan said he couldn't speak much English, so I guess +he had stopped at "I'll have the same" and "Here's a go!" +</P> + +<P> +Well, I had the right dope, because the next week the Kid goes down to +the bank and draws out five thousand bucks to set Honest Dan and the +professor up in business with. They was gonna open a swell +fortune-tellin' joint on Fifth Avenue. I said the thing sounded +crooked to me, and the Kid got sore and told me Honest Dan couldn't do +nothin' like that, it wasn't in him. He showed me where Dan had always +got time off for good conduct, no matter what jail he was in. +</P> + +<P> +The professor brightens up for a minute when the Kid hands over the +roll, but after that he went right back into the gloom again. +</P> + +<P> +Honest Dan gives the Kid a receipt for the sucker money and him and his +trick medium goes on their way. After a while, I forgot about 'em. +The Kid fights Edwards and a couple of more tramps and knocks 'em all +kickin' and we're just gonna grab one of them "See America Firsts" for +the coast when some club promoter goes crazy and offers us ten thousand +iron men to fight Joe Ryan. The Kid would have fought the Marines for +half of that, so we run all the way to the club and signed articles +whiles the guy that hung up the purse was still wishin' he had stayed +on the wagon. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid had got Professor Parducci to fix him up with a few love charms +and owls' ears by which he was gonna make himself solid with Miss +Vincent. In fact Scanlan fell so hard for the medium stuff that when +the professor told him to get at all cost a lock of Miss Vincent's hair +clipped at eighteen minutes after eleven on a rainy Sunday night, he +writes out to her and asks her to send him a lock cut just that way! +</P> + +<P> +When he wasn't pesterin' the professor on how to win the movie queen, +he was goin' around mutterin', "Loyal, likeable Lithuanians and +generous gobs of Gazoopis!" until the newspaper guys wrote that Kid +Scanlan would be a mark for the first good boy he fought, because like +everybody else that was a sudden success, he had took to usin' +stimulants which is only sold on a doctor's prescription. On the +level, he'd git a wad of paper and sit around all night with a +dictionary, writin' down all the words that begin with the same letter +and then he'd git up and repeat that stuff for a hour. +</P> + +<P> +One afternoon we went downtown to look over this joint run by Honest +Dan and the professor. It was in one of them studio buildings on Fifth +Avenue near Twenty-Eighth Street, and the rent they was payin' for it +would have kept the army in rubber heels for six years. They's a long +line of autos outside and the inmates was streamin' in and out of the +place like a crowd goin' to see the beloved rector laid out. Some of +the dames would be familiar to you, if you've been readin' the box +scores in the latest divorce mêlées, or the lineup of the committee for +the aid of the Esquimaux victims of the war. +</P> + +<P> +We get in a elevator, and, floatin' up to the roof, walk down what +would have been a fire trap on the East Side, and here we are at +Professor Parducci's Temple of the Inner Star. A couple of West Indian +hall boys, who's gag line was "Say-hib," lets us in. They was dressed +in sheets and had towels twisted around their heads and smelled +strongly of gin. Pretty soon Honest Dan comes out and shakes hands all +around. Except for his face, you'd never know it was the same guy. +His hair is brushed all the way back like the guys that poses for the +underwear ads and he's dressed in a black suit that fit him better than +most of his skin. In his shirt front they's a diamond that looked like +a young arc light, and he had enough gems on his hands to make J. P. +Morgan gnash his teeth. +</P> + +<P> +He told me that him and the professor wasn't doin' no more business +than a guy would do in Hades with the ice water concession, and that +Barnum was wrong when he said they was a sucker born every minute. +Honest Dan said <I>his</I> figures showed there was about two born every +<I>second</I>. +</P> + +<P> +He leads us into a great big hall that was filled with statues, +pictures, rugs, sofas, women and fatheads. The furnishings of this +joint would make Buckingham Palace look like a stable. It must have +ruined the Kid's five thousand just to lay in scenery for that one room +alone. The statues and pictures was nearly all devoted to one subject, +and that was why should people wear clothes—especially women? The +victims is all lollin' around on them plush sofas, drinkin' tea and +lookin' like a ten-year-old kid at church or a guy waitin' in the +doctor's office to find out if he's got consumption or chilblains. It +was as quiet as a Sunday in Philadelphia and they was also a very +strong smell of burnin' glue, which Honest Dan said was sacred incense +that always had to be used by the professor before he could work. +</P> + +<P> +Among the decorations was a very large dame sittin' over in a corner +dressed within a inch of her life. I suppose she had ears, a neck and +hands, but you couldn't tell right away whether she had or not, because +them parts of her anatomy, as the feller says, was buried under a +carload of diamonds. You could see by her face that at one time she +had probably been a swell-lookin' dame, but them days was all over. +Still, she was makin' a game try at comin' back, and from her +complexion she must have been kept busy day and night openin' bottles +and cans signed on the outside by Lillian Russell and etc. +</P> + +<P> +This dame was havin' the best time of anybody in the joint. She was +sittin' up very straight and solemn with both chins restin' in her +glitterin' hands and from the look in her eyes some Sunday paper had +just claimed she was the best lookin' woman in America and the like. +</P> + +<P> +A guy wouldn't have to be no Sherlock Holmes to see that this was the +bird that was bein' readied for the big killin' by Honest Dan and his +trick professor. The rest of them was just what you might call the +chorus. +</P> + +<P> +Sittin' right beside the stout party was a kid that had just dropped in +from the cover of a magazine. She was the kind of female that could +come down to breakfast with the mumps and her hair in curl papers, fry +the egg on the wrong side and yet make the lucky guy across the table +go out whistlin' and pityin' his unwed friends. You know how them +dames look when they have give some time to <I>dollin' up</I>, don't you? +Well, this one had everything; take it from me, she was a knockout! +She's tappin' the floor with a classy little foot and tryin' to see can +she pull a silk handkerchief apart with her bare hands, the while +registerin' this, +"This-medium-thing-is-the-bunk-and-I-wish-I-was-out-of-here!" +</P> + +<P> +I doped her as the stout dame's daughter, hittin' .1000 on the guess as +I found out later. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," whispers Honest Dan to the Kid, "what d'ye think of the place?" +</P> + +<P> +"Some joint!" says the Kid. "Listen—I got a new one. The most +magnificently, male mauler on earth! How's that—poor, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"What does it mean?" asks Honest Dan. +</P> + +<P> +"It means <I>me</I>, Stupid!" pipes the Kid. "I'm havin' some cards made up +with that on it. The sagacious, sanguine and scandalous Scanlan, +welterweight walloper of the world! Where's the professor?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sssh!" whispers Honest Dan. "Lay off that <I>professor</I> gag here. +That's small town stuff—he's a mahatma now! He's in one of his +silences, but if you keep quiet I'll take you around and show you how +he works." +</P> + +<P> +He takes us through a little door that leads into a dark room which was +a steal on the old chamber of horrors at the Eden Musee. It was full +of ghost pictures drawed by artists who had no use for prohibition, and +they was plenty of skulls and stuff like that layin' around where they +would do the most good. At the far end is a small wire gratin' with a +Morris chair on the other side of it. Honest Dan explains that that's +where the come-ons sit while the professor massages their soul. They +never see him, Dan figurin' in that way it would be harder to pick the +professor out at police headquarters when the district attorney got +around to him. We hadn't been there a minute, when the curtain at the +other end of the room opens and in blows the stout dame, floppin' down +in the chair with a sigh as the professor pulls open the grate to feed +her the oil. Dan pulls us back in the dark, and I notice she was so +excited that she shook all over like a ten cent portion of cornstarch +or Instant Desserto and her breath was comin' in short little gasps. +</P> + +<P> +Honest Dan is takin' a inventory of the couple of quarts of diamonds +she wore and figurin' the list price on his shirt cuffs. When he got +through, he dug me in the ribs and says it looks like a big winter. +</P> + +<P> +The professor starts to talk with a strong Ellis Island dialect, +tellin' the dame that he's just been in a trance, give the sacred +crystal the once over and took up her case with a few odd ghosts. The +result was that a spirit which was in the know had just give him a tip +that she was no less than the tenth regular reincarnation of Cleopatra, +who did a big time act in one with a guy called Marc Anthony which was +now doin' a single or had jumped to the movies or somethin' like that. +</P> + +<P> +The stout dame gets up off the chair and waves her handkerchief. +</P> + +<P> +"Merciful Heavens!" she remarks loudly. "I knew it!" +</P> + +<P> +Then she pulls a funny fall and faints! +</P> + +<P> +The professor hisses at Dan to get him a cigarette, and the West Indian +hall boys drag the stout dame into the chair from which she had slipped +followin' the professor's sure-fire stuff about Cleopatra. He snatches +a few drags out of the cigarette before the dame comes to and when she +does, he goes on and says yes she is Cleopatra, they ain't no doubt +about that part of it and she must have noticed the strange power she +had over men all her life, hadn't she? The stout dame sighs and nods +her head. The professor then tells her that she has been in wrong and +unhappy all her life, because she had never met her mate. The same +bein' a big, husky, red-blooded cave man which would club her senseless +and carry her off to his lair. Had she ever met anybody like that? +The stout dame says not lately, but when poor Henry and her had first +got wed he was a Saturday night ale-hound and once or twice he had—but +never mind, she won't speak ill of the dead. The professor says he can +see that nobody of the real big-league calibre has crossed her path as +yet and that her husband's spirit had told him in confidence only the +other day that one night he got to thinkin' what a poor worm he was to +be married to Cleopatra, and it had been too much for his humble soul +which bust. +</P> + +<P> +The dame nods and starts to weep. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor Hennerey!" she says. "He ain't stopped lyin' yet. I should +never have wed him, but how did I know that my fatal beauty would prove +his undoing?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't that rich?" pipes Honest Dan in my ear. +</P> + +<P> +The professor has a coughin' spell, and when he calmed himself, he says +he has just got in touch with Marc Anthony and he's pullin' the wires +to have him come back to earth so's their souls can be welded together +again and if she will come back in a week, he'll be able to tell her +some big news. He said it was bein' whispered around among the spirits +that Marc Anthony was on earth now, eatin' his noble heart out because +he couldn't find her. +</P> + +<P> +Then he suddenly shuts the gate, and the dame staggers out, overcome +with joy and the smell of that incense which would have made a glue +factory quit. Honest Dan beats it around and opens the door for her. +They wouldn't take a nickel off her then, because they was savin' her +for the big play. +</P> + +<P> +About a week after our visit to the Temple of the Inner Star, the Kid +comes runnin' up to my room at the hotel one mornin' and busts in the +door. He's got a newspaper in his hand and he slams it down on the bed +and kicks a innocent chair over on its side. +</P> + +<P> +"I hope they give him eighty years!" he hollers. +</P> + +<P> +"Who's your friend?" I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"Friend!" he screams. "Why, the big psalm-singin' stiff, I'll murder +him!" +</P> + +<P> +"They's just one thing I'd like to know, Kid," I says. "Who?" +</P> + +<P> +"That cheap, pan-handlin' crook that Dan Leduc wished on me!" he yells. +"That rotten snake I kept from dyin' in the gutter, that baby-stealin' +rat which claims he's a medium! Professor Bunko—that's who!" +</P> + +<P> +I grabbed up the paper and all over the front page is a picture of Miss +Vincent. Underneath it says this, +</P> + +<P> +"Famous Film Star Rumored Engaged to Millionaire." +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I says, "what has this here social note got to do with the +Professor?" +</P> + +<P> +"What has a jockey got to do with horse-racin'?" bellers the Kid. "Why +the big hick, I'll go down there and strangle him right out loud before +them high-brow simps of his! I'll have him pinched and I hope he gets +life! I'll—" +</P> + +<P> +He went on like that for half an hour, and when he finally cools off he +explains that the professor had guaranteed to dust off his charmers and +charm Miss Vincent so hard that she wouldn't even give a pleasant smile +to nobody but the Kid. All Scanlan had to do was follow the +professor's dope and they'd be nothin' to it but slippin' the minister +and payin' the railroad people for the honeymoon. The Kid had gone +ahead and done like the professor said, startin' off with the letter +requestin' a lock of her hair clipped at eleven eighteen on a rainy +Sunday night. Then he telegraphed her to bathe her thumbs in hot +oolong tea every Friday at noon and send him the leaves in a red +envelope. He followed that up with a note demandin' a ring that she +had first dipped in the juice of a stewed poppy, and then held in back +of her while she said, "Alagazza, gazzopi, gazzami" thirteen times. +</P> + +<P> +I guess the professor overplayed the thing a bit, because the only +action the Kid got was a short note from Miss Vincent in which she said +that as long as he had started right in to drink the minute he hit New +York, their friendship was all over. The next thing was that notice in +the paper. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid's idea was to go right down and wreck the Temple of the Inner +Star, windin' up by havin' Honest Dan and his bunk medium pinched. I +showed him where it would do no good, because he had set 'em up in +business and if they was crooked the jury would figure that and put the +Kid's name on one of them indictments. He calmed off finally and said +he'd be satisfied to let it go at half killin' 'em both and makin' a +bum out of the Temple of the Inner Star. +</P> + +<P> +We got down there in a few minutes, and Honest Dan meets us at the +door. He's all excited and says the time has come for the big hog +killin', after which they're gonna blow New York, because they been +tipped off that the new police commissioner is about to startle the +natives with a raid. The Kid starts to bawl him out, when the big +stout dame is ushered into the room and Dan hustles us into the +professor's shrine in the rear. +</P> + +<P> +As soon as she gets inside, the professor tells her to prepare for a +shock. She shivers all over, grabbin' the side of the chair and takin' +a long whiff out of a little green bottle. Then she says she'll try +and be brave, and to let her have the works. The professor says he has +finally dug up Marc Anthony, and all the spirits is in there tryin' for +them, so's they can be brought together. He told her to go right back +to her rooms at the Fitz-Charlton and he would send out the old thought +waves for Marc. Just when he'd get him, he didn't know—it might be a +day, a week or a month, but she was to sit there all dolled up to +receive him and wait. He said she would know Marc, because he would +have a snake tattooed on the third finger of his right hand in memory +of the way Cleopatra kissed off. That's all he was allowed to give out +just now, he winds up. +</P> + +<P> +Well, the stout dame thanks him about six hundred times and waddles out +darn near hysterical. She grabs hold of her daughter and hisses in her +ear, +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Gladys, they've found him! My beloved Marc Anthony is coming to +claim me for his own. Then we will return to Egypt, and, sitting upon +a golden throne—" +</P> + +<P> +Friend daughter pulls a weary smile and leads Cleopatra to the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, don't, mother!" she says. "Don't! If you only knew how all this +sickens me! This man has hypnotized you! Why don't you listen to me +and take that trip to California where—" +</P> + +<P> +"What!" squeals the stout dame. "What? Be away when my Marc comes? +How dare you think of such a thing! I did that once and if you have +read your ancient history, you must remember the terrible result!" +</P> + +<P> +Daughter sighs, shakes her head and they go out. +</P> + +<P> +Now the Kid has been takin' all this stuff in without lettin' a peep +out of him and when the stout dame has left, I figured he'd tear right +in to the plotters, so I got ready to hold up my end and reached for a +chair. But what d'ye think the Kid did? He falls down on a sofa and +starts to laugh! On the level, I bet he snickered out loud for a good +fifteen minutes and then he gets up and walks to the door without +sayin' a single word to either Dan or the professor, after all that +stuff he pulled on me at the hotel! +</P> + +<P> +While we're goin' down in the elevator, Honest Dan tells us that they +got a handsome actor who just now is playin' in a show called "Standin' +on the Corners, Waitin' for a Job," and they're gonna have him get a +snake painted on the third finger of his right hand and shoo him up to +the stout dame the next day. After he has been welcome homed, Marc +Anthony is gonna say that he's makin' out a check for the professor +which throwed them together, and don't she think she ought to send in +somethin' also? When she asks what he thinks would be about right, +Marc Anthony is gonna say that he guesses she ought to keep the pen she +wrote the check with as a souvenir, but that everything else she had, +includin' anything a pawnbroker would give a ticket on, would do! +</P> + +<P> +I didn't say nothin' to that, but I was doin' a piece of thinkin' and +as soon as we got our feet on Fifth Avenue again, I let go. I told the +Kid what I thought of his friend Honest Dan in language that Billy +Sunday could have been proud of. When I got through with Dan, I took +up the professor and give him a play. I said it was my belief that a +couple of safety-first crooks, who would deliberate trim a simple old +stout dame out of her dough in that coarse manner, should be taken up +to the Metropolitan tower and eased off. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid just grins and starts hummin' under his breath. +</P> + +<P> +By this time I had worked myself up to such a pitch that my goat was +chasin' madly about the streets, and to have the Kid act that way was +about all I needed. I carefully explained to him just how many kinds +of a big, yellah tramp he was, to let the professor crab him with Miss +Vincent and get away with it clean. I showed him where he should have +at least bent a chair over that guy's head, if he was a real gentleman +whose honor had been trifled with and not a four flushin' false alarm. +</P> + +<P> +"Gobs of generous Gazoopis!" he snickers at me when I get through. +"Our employees is all new, noisy and Norwegians!" +</P> + +<P> +They was a queer look in his eye, and I figured he must have slipped +out in the mornin' at that and dug up a place where prohibition hadn't +carried. I stopped right in the middle of the traffic and told him I +was goin' up to the Fritz-Charlton the next mornin' and tip the stout +dame off, if it was the last thing I did. +</P> + +<P> +He just grins! +</P> + +<P> +The next mornin' I beat it up to Cleopatra's hotel, and, after I have +waited an hour, she sends a maid down to see me. The maid tells me to +spread my hands out flat on a little table that's standin' there and +she examines every finger like a sure enough mechanic looks over a +second-hand automobile he's gonna buy to hack with. Finally, she +throws my hands down with a disappointed look and her shoulders begins +one of them hula dances. +</P> + +<P> +"<I>Viola</I>!" she remarks. "That leetle snake, he is not there! Madame +she is not at home—away wit' you!" +</P> + +<P> +Well, I figures I did what <I>I</I> could, so I breezed out and left +Cleopatra flat. +</P> + +<P> +Failin' to locate the Kid anywheres, I went on down to the studio and +walk right in on the professor and Honest Dan givin' Marc Anthony a +dress rehearsal. He was a handsome guy, all right, sickenin'ly so, +with one of them soft, mushy faces and wavin' blonde hair. He's had +the snake tattooed on his finger, like the part called for, and the way +he carries on about how he's gonna give the stout dame the work makes +me foam at the mouth. My once favorably known left had all it could do +to keep from bouncin' off his chin! Finally, they start him away and +Honest Dan tells me how they got it framed up for him to meet +Cleopatra. He was to go to the Fritz-Charlton and send up a card that +claimed he was the editor of "Society Seethings," and when she comes +down to see him, he was to ask her what was her plans for the winter +season and a lot of bunk like that. In no way was he to make a crack +about bein' Marc Anthony—that would be too raw, but as he was leavin' +he was to carelessly let her see that snake on his finger. That was +all! +</P> + +<P> +They knowed Cleopatra would do the rest. +</P> + +<P> +I couldn't stand no more, so I hustled back to our hotel, and the +minute I get in, the clerk tells me the Kid has been chasin' around +lookin' for me all morning so I beat it right up to our suite. The Kid +is doin' his road work by canterin' around the room when I come in, and +he rushes over and grabs me by the arm. +</P> + +<P> +"When are them yeggmen gonna send Marc Anthony up to Cleopatra?" he +demands, all excited. +</P> + +<P> +"He just left a few minutes ago!" I tells him. "Why?" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid gives a yell and jumps over to the door leadin' to our +sittin'-room, yankin' it open with one jerk. I thought I'd pass away +when I got a flash at what was inside. They was about twenty of the +roughest lookin' guys I ever seen in my life, all dolled up in new +suits, shoes and hats. Some of them I recognized as ex-heavy-weights, +they was a few strikin' longshoremen, a fair sprinklin' of East Side +gunmen and here and there what had passed for a actor in the tanks. +</P> + +<P> +"Some layout, eh?" pipes the Kid, rubbin' his hands together. "It took +me all mornin' and nearly three hundred bucks to rib them guys up, but +they're all desperate, darin' and dolled up!" +</P> + +<P> +"What the—what's the big idea?" I gasps. +</P> + +<P> +"Hold up your hands!" roars the Kid at his rough and readys. +</P> + +<P> +They did—and I got it! +</P> + +<P> +Each and every one of them guys had a snake tattooed on the third +finger of his right hand! +</P> + +<P> +The Kid had probably put in the mornin' rehearsin' 'em, because all he +had to say now was, "Go to it!" and they beat it. He told me they was +all goin' up to the Fritz-Charlton and ask for the stout dame at three +minute intervals, show their right hand and claim they was Marc Anthony! +</P> + +<P> +"If that don't show the stout dame that the professor is the bunk and +if she don't let out a moan that'll be plainly heard at police +headquarters, I'll make Dan a present of the five thousand he took me +for!" says the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +In about a hour the telephone begins to ring and I answers it. When +the ravin' maniac on the other end of the wire got to where he could +control the English language, I found out it was no less than Honest +Dan. The main thing he said was for us to come down to the Temple of +the Inner Star right away, because him and the professor has got in a +terrible jam. We hopped in a taxi and did like he said. Honest Dan is +waitin' in the elevator for us, and he looked like the loser in a +battle royal. He says the stout dame has just left, and she's in a +terrible state. I could believe that easy, because they is nothin' +more vicious in the land of the free than a enraged come-on. I'd +rather face a nervous wildcat than face a angry boob! +</P> + +<P> +"Somebody put the bee on us!" howls Honest Dan, wringin' his hands. +"And a truckload of guys went up to the hotel claimin' they was Marc +Anthony in voices that disturbed people in China. They throwed the +real Marc out on his lily white ear, and seven of 'em got pinched for +disorderly conduct. I understand they was a mêlée up there that would +make a football game look like chess and the papers is havin' a field +day with the thing! We got to grab Cleopatra's gems and go away from +here before the whole plant is uncovered." +</P> + +<P> +"Why," I says, "how are you gonna take the stout dame now? She knows +it's a fake, don't she?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fake, hell!" hollers Dan. "<I>She thinks it's on the level</I>! The only +thing that bothers her is which one is the <I>right</I> Marc Anthony. She +says two of them had such patrician faces that she thinks some of the +Caesars has got mixed up with the lot. She's gonna put it up to her +late husband, and she's comin' back here any minute to talk with his +spirit!" He begins walkin' the floor. "I never seen no dame like +that!" he busts out. "She <I>wants</I> to be trimmed! The only thing she +seemed to be sore about was the fact that she couldn't pick out the +right Marc Anthony. Now we git the chance of a lifetime to grab a roll +when she comes back and we ain't got no ghost! If I could only get the +guy that sent all them Marc Anthonys up there," he winds up with a +yell, "I'd make a ghost out of him!" +</P> + +<P> +He never seemed to think the Kid might have done it, because the Kid +was the boy that had set him and the professor up in business and why +should he crab his own play? +</P> + +<P> +A little electric buzzer makes good while Honest Dan is ravin' away, +and Dan, gettin' white, grabs the Kid by the arm and begs him to come +to the rescue. +</P> + +<P> +"Jump in that cabinet there!" he whispers to him. "And when this dame +asks if you're Henry, say yes, and tell her the real Marc Anthony is +the guy with the blonde hair, and he's now at the City Hospital. +That's all you got to say and—" +</P> + +<P> +He shoves the Kid back of the cabinet and me back of a curtain just as +Cleopatra blows in with her daughter. Honest Dan tells them to be +seated quick, because the professor has just got the spirit of her +husband where he's ready to talk to the reporters. The West Indian +hall boys sneak around in the back, rattlin' chains and bangin' on +pans. Then Dan reaches back and opens the mechanical bellows, and a +blast of cold air comes into the room while a white light flashes over +the cabinet. +</P> + +<P> +"Now!" whispers Dan to the stout dame, "speak quick!" +</P> + +<P> +At that minute, Dan looked like a guy with a ticket on a hundred to one +shot, watchin' it breeze into the stretch leadin' by by a city block. +</P> + +<P> +"Is—is that you Henery?" squeaks Cleopatra in a tremblin' voice. +</P> + +<P> +They's a rustle in the cabinet and then <I>this</I> comes out over the top. +</P> + +<P> +"Generous gobs of Gazoopis! Our employees is ready, reckless and +Russian. This guy is crooked, crazy and careless. He will take you +for your beautiful, bulgin' bankroll and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Henery!" squawks the dame, jumpin' up off the chair. +</P> + +<P> +I heard the well known dull thud on the other side of the cabinet, and +I guess it was Professor Parducci fallin' senseless on the floor. I +thought Honest Dan had dropped dead from the way he was hung over a +sofa. +</P> + +<P> +"Each and every day," goes on the voice in the cabinet, "each and every +day we ship a million lovely loaves—" +</P> + +<P> +"Merciful Heavens!" yells the dame. "A sign! Henery, shall I go back?" +</P> + +<P> +"Back is right!" says the voice. "These guys is cheap crooks and they +ain't no Marc Anthony!" +</P> + +<P> +The lights go out and Honest Dan comes to, rushin' over to the stout +dame with a million alibis tryin' to be first out of his mouth. I beat +it around to the back, but the professor has gone somewheres else while +the goin' was fair to medium. +</P> + +<P> +"You have deceived me, you wretch!" screams the stout dame. "You +have—" +</P> + +<P> +That's as far as she got, because right in the middle of it she pulls a +faint, and daughter eases her to the floor. The Kid hops out of the +cabinet and grabs Honest Dan. +</P> + +<P> +"Beat it, you rat," bawls Scanlan, "before I commit mayhem!" +</P> + +<P> +From the way Honest Dan went out of that room, he must have passed +Samoa, the first hour! +</P> + +<P> +Daughter reaches up and grabs the Kid's hand. +</P> + +<P> +"I—I—want to thank you," she says, "for saving my mother. I—I don't +know what might have happened, if you hadn't been here!" +</P> + +<P> +"That's all right!" pipes the Kid. "D'ye want us to do anything else?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," she says. "Will you tell me where you heard that—that +description of the—the million lovely loaves?" +</P> + +<P> +"Sure," answers the Kid. "When we was comin' East, we stopped off at a +hick burg somewheres and a guy took us over a bakery—" +</P> + +<P> +Daughter claps her hands and laughs. +</P> + +<P> +"Poetic justice!" she says. "That explains everything. My poor, dear +father founded that bakery, and those were the last advertisements for +it he wrote!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +LIFE IS REEL! +</H4> + +<P> +The nation is bein' flooded these days with advertisements claimin' +that any white man which works for less than forty thousand bucks a +year is a sucker. The best of 'em is wrote by a friend of mine, Joe +Higgins, who gets all of twenty bucks every Saturday at six—one-thirty +in July, August and September. +</P> + +<P> +The ads that Joe tears off deals with inventions. He shows that Edison +prob'ly wouldn't of made a nickel over a million, if he hadn't +discovered everything but America, and that Bell, Marconi, Fulton and +that gang, wouldn't of been any better known to-day than ham and eggs, +if they hadn't used their brains for purposes of thinkin' and invented +somethin'. There's fortunes which would make the Vanderbilts and +Astors look like public charges, explains Joe, awaitin' the bird which +will quit playin' Kelly pool some night and invent a new way to do +<I>anything</I>. +</P> + +<P> +The ad winds up with the important information that the people which +Joe works for is so close to the patent office gang that they could get +French fried potatoes copyrighted. For the sum of "write for +particulars," they'll rush madly from Washington papers that'll protect +any idea you got, before some snake-in-the-grass friend plies you with +strawberry sundaes and steals your secret. At the bottom of this +there's a long list of things sadly needed by a sufferin' public, which +will willin'ly shower their inventor with medals and money,—things +like non-playable ukaleles, doctors which can guess what's the matter +with <I>you</I> instead of your bankroll, grape fruit that won't hit back +while you're eatin' it, non-refillable jails and so forth. All you got +to do is stake yourself to a couple of test tubes, a white apron and a +laboratory, hire Edison, Marconi, Maxim and Hennery Ford as +assistants—with the U. S. Mint in back of you in case expenses come +up—and you'll wake up some mornin' to find yourself the talk of Fall +River. +</P> + +<P> +I been lookin' over these ads for a long time, but there's three names +I never seen on the list of famous inventors. They are to wit: the guy +that discovered the only absolute cure for rheumatism, the one that +invented the dope book on the female race and the bird that holds a +patent on the complete understandin' of human nature. I guess the +reason I never seen <I>their</I> names is because the thing ain't really +been decided yet—there seems to be some difference of opinion. But if +you wanna find out how many guys there are that swear they invented +<I>all</I> them things, look up the population of the world. The figures is +exactly the same. +</P> + +<P> +I ain't met nobody yet which didn't admit they had the only correct +dope on women, rheumatism and human nature, but I'm still waitin' to be +introduced to the guy which really knows anything at all about <I>any</I> of +'em, when it gets right down to the box score! +</P> + +<P> +The nearest I ever come to knowin' the original patentee to two of 'em +was Eddie Duke. Eddie is one of the best men in the movable picture +game, accordin' to everybody but himself. <I>He</I> concedes he's <I>the</I> +best. He's a little, aggressive guy which would of prob'ly been a +lightweight champion, for instance, if it hadn't been for his parents. +They killed off his chances of makin' <I>big</I> money, by slippin' him a +medium dose of education when he was too young to fight back. Eddie's +like a million other guys I know, all Half-way Henrys, you might call +'em. Too much brains to dig streets and not enough to own 'em! +Unhappy mediums that always calls <I>somebody</I> boss! +</P> + +<P> +We're sittin' in Duke's office one mornin', when without even +knockin'—a remarkable thing for a movie star—in walks Edmund De +Vronde. Edmund has caused more salesladies to take their pens in hand +than any other actor in the world. His boudoir is hung with pictures +of dames from eight to eighty and from Flatbush to Florida. If some of +'em was actual reproductions, them dames was foolish for sellin' +shirtwaists, believe me! Edmund is as beautiful as five hundred a week +and built like Jack Dempsey. Off the screen he's as rough and ready as +a chorus man. +</P> + +<P> +"Hello, Cutey!" says the Kid, who liked De Vronde and carbolic acid the +same way. +</P> + +<P> +"I've come to ask a favor," says De Vronde. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," Duke tells him, lightin' a cigarette and lookin' straight at +the end of it, "we ain't gonna pay for no more autographed photos, we +won't fire the press agent, you gotta finish this picture with Miss +Hart and both them camera men that's shootin' this movie is high-class +mechanics and stays! Outside of that, I'm open to reason." +</P> + +<P> +"What I want will cost you nothing," says De Vronde. "That +is—practically nothing. My dresser,—the silly idiot!—tendered me +his resignation this morning!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what's all this gotta do with me?" he asks De Vronde. "I can't +be bothered diggin' up valets to see that you got plenty of fresh +vanilla cold cream every morning and that they's ample talcum powder on +the chiffonier! I got—" +</P> + +<P> +"I have already secured a man," interrupts De Vronde. "He happens to +be a—a—friend of mine. The poor fellow is desperately in need of +work. He's in Denver at present, and I'd like to have him on as soon +as possible. If we're to begin that big feature on Monday, I'm sure I +can't be bothered thinking about where this shirt and that cravat is, +and just what color combinations will be best for my costume in the +gypsy cave." +</P> + +<P> +"That's right!" grins the Kid. "Figure for yourself what would happen, +if Cutey forgot his mustache curler, for instance. The whole country +would be, now, aghast, and he'd be a nervous wreck in five minutes!" +</P> + +<P> +"So if you'll kindly telegraph the fare to this address," goes on De +Vronde, ignorin' the Kid, "I'll be obliged." +</P> + +<P> +With that he blows. +</P> + +<P> +"And the tough part of it is," moans Duke, reachin' for a 'phone, "I'll +have to do just that! It'll cost about sixty bucks to import this bird +here and when he gets here, it's nothin' but another mouth to feed. If +I had half the nerve of that big stiff De Vronde, I'd take a German +quartette over to London and make 'em sing the 'Wacht Am Rhein' in +front of Buckin'ham Palace!" +</P> + +<P> +"He claims this valet's a friend of his, too," says the Kid. "I'll bet +he'll turn out to be another one of them sweet spirits of nitre boys, +eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"If he is," growls Duke, "it won't be two days before he'll be sick and +tired of the movie game, you can bet two green certificates on that!" +</P> + +<P> +A week later, me and the Kid is standin' near the entrance to Film City +talkin' to Miss Vincent, when a young feller blows in through the gates +and walks up to us. He's one of them tall birds, as thin as a dime, +and his clothes has been brushed right into the grain. When the light +hit him, I seen they was places where even the grain had quit. His +shoes is so run over at the heels that they'd of fit nice and snug into +a car track and he'd just gone and shaved himself raw. +</P> + +<P> +One good look and this bird checked up as a member in good standin' of +one of the oldest lodges in the world. They got a branch in every +city, and they was organized around the time that Adam and Eve quit the +Garden of Eden for a steam-heated flat. The name of this order is "The +Shabby Genteels." +</P> + +<P> +But what transfixed the eye and held the attention, as we remark in the +workhouse, was this guy's face. I might say he had the most +inconsistent set of features I ever seen off the screen. He ain't a +thousand miles from bein' good-looking and his chin is well cut and +square, like at one time he'd been willin' to hustle for his wants and +fight for 'em once he got 'em, but that time ain't <I>now</I>! His eyes is +the tip-off. They don't look straight into yours when he talks—the +liar's best bet!—or they don't look at the ground, but they stare off +over your shoulder into the air, like he's seein' somethin' <I>you</I> +can't, and it ain't pleasant to look at. +</P> + +<P> +I've seen that look on beaten fighters, when the winner is settin' +himself for the knockout, and I've seen it on the faces of other guys, +when some smug-jowled judge has reached into their lives and took ten +or twenty years as a deposit on what they'll do with the rest. It's a +look you don't forget right away, take it from me! +</P> + +<P> +Well, this feller that's walkin' up to us had that look. If a director +had yelled "Register despair!" at him, he could of just looked natural +and they'd of thought he was another Mansfield. +</P> + +<P> +And he's <I>young</I>! Get that? +</P> + +<P> +"Pardon me!" he says, takin' off his hat. "Where can I find Mister De +Vronde?" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid puts his hand on his arm and swings him around, +</P> + +<P> +"You'll pro'bly find him over behind the Street Scene in Venice," he +tells him. "If he ain't there, look around the Sahara Desert for +him—know him when you see him?" +</P> + +<P> +The other guy looks at us for a minute like he thinks he's bein' +kidded. Then he pulls a slow, tired grin. +</P> + +<P> +"I think so," he says. "Thanks!" +</P> + +<P> +When he walks away, I turns to Miss Vincent. +</P> + +<P> +"That's prob'ly Cutey De Vronde's new guardeen," I says. "I guess he—" +</P> + +<P> +"You and the Kaiser is the same kind of guessers!" butts in the Kid. +"He guessed we wouldn't scrap! If that guy we was just talkin' to is a +lady's maid for Cutey, I can sing like Caruso!" +</P> + +<P> +"He doesn't look like a valet," says Miss Vincent, kinda doubtful. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't blame him!" says the Kid. "And lemme tell you, he never got +them muscles from brushin' clothes and buttonin' vests. I felt his arm +when I swung him around that time, and this guy is just about as soft +as the Rock of Gibraltar!" +</P> + +<P> +"I can't understand," says Miss Vincent, "how a strong, healthy man can +be a valet—ugh!" she winds up, with a little shiver. +</P> + +<P> +"That's easy," sneers the Kid. "A <I>man</I> can't!" +</P> + +<P> +Well, a man <I>did</I>! Gimme your ears, as the deaf guy said. +</P> + +<P> +The next mornin' it turns out that I can guess like a rabbit can run. +The new entry on the payroll borrehs a match from me, and durin' the +tête-à-tête that folleyed, I find out that his name is John R. Adams +and, as far as the world in general and America in particular is +concerned, it could of been George Q. Mud. Durin' the lifetime of +twenty-nine years he's been on earth, he's tried his hand at everything +from bankin' to bartenderin', and so far the only thing he's been a +success at is bein' a failure. At that he leads the league. And now, +to top it all off, he's a valet for a movie hero! +</P> + +<P> +"It's all a matter of luck!" he says, bitterly. "A man who tries these +days is not an ambitious hustler, but a <I>pest</I> to the powers above him! +I defy a man to stand on his own feet and make good without influence. +It's not <I>what</I> do you know any more, but <I>who</I> do you know! I've been +a bookkeeper, a printer, a salesman, a chauffeur, a bank clerk, and, +yes, even a chorus man. At every one of those things I gave the best I +had in stock to get to the front. Did I get there? Not quite!" he +throws away the cigarette he's hardly had a puff of. "Why?" he asks +me. "Because in every trade or profession there's somebody with half +the sand and ability, who don't know the job's requirements but knows +the boss's son! I'm not a quitter or I wouldn't be here, but I'm sick +and disgusted with this thing called life and—" +</P> + +<P> +"And that's why you never got nowhere!" breaks in a voice behind +us—and there's Eddie Duke. Adams flushes up and starts away, but +Eddie pulls him back. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen to me, young feller!" he says. "I happened to hear your moan +just now and your dope is all wrong. There ain't no such thing as +luck; if there was, a blacksmith is the luckiest guy in the world and +oughta make a million a minute, because he's handlin' nothin' but +horseshoes all day long, ain't he? Forget about that luck stuff! +Makin' good is all in the way you look at it, anyways. A bricklayer +makin' thirty bucks a week, raisin' a family and bringin' home his pay +every Saturday night in his pocket instead of on his breath, is makin' +good as big as J. P. Morgan is—d'ye get me? Yes, sir, that bird can +say he's got over! Makin' good is like religion, every other guy has a +different idea of what it means, but there's many a feller swingin' a +pick that's makin' good just as much as the bird that owns the +ditch—in his own way! You claim a guy's got to know somebody these +days to get over, eh? Well, you got that one right, I'll admit it!" +</P> + +<P> +"Of course!" says Adams, brightenin' up. "That's my argument and—" +</P> + +<P> +"That ain't no argument, that's a whine!" sneers Duke, cuttin' him off +short. "Listen to me—you bet you gotta know somebody to get +anywheres, <I>you gotta know yourself</I>! That's all! Just lay off +thinkin' how lucky the other guy is, and give Stephen X. You a minute's +attention. You may be the biggest guy in the world at <I>somethin'</I>, if +you'll only check up on yourself and see what that somethin' is! +Remember Whosthis says, 'Full many a rose is born to blush unseen—' +Well, don't be one of them desert flowers; come into the city and let +'em all watch you blush. Get me? How did you happen to meet this big +stiff De Vronde?" +</P> + +<P> +Adams gets pale for a second and clears his throat. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm working for him," he says slowly, like he's thinkin' over each +word before lettin' it go, "and I don't care to discuss him." +</P> + +<P> +At just that minute, De Vronde, Miss Vincent, the Kid and another dame +come rollin' up in Miss Vincent's twelve-cylinder garage-mechanic's +friend. De Vronde hops out and walks over to us, wavin' his cane and +frownin'. +</P> + +<P> +"Look here!" he bawls at Adams. "I thought I told you to be at the +east gate with my duster and goggles? You've kept me waiting half an +hour, while you're gossiping around! Really, if you're going to start +this way, I shall have to get another man. Look sharp now, no excuses!" +</P> + +<P> +The Kid winks at me, noddin' to Adams who's lookin' at De Vronde with a +very peculiar gaze. I couldn't quite get what he's registerin'. Miss +Vincent looks interested and sits up. The other dame opens the door of +the car and stands on the runnin' board. +</P> + +<P> +"Here's where the fair Edmund gets his and gets it good!" hisses Duke +in my ear, lookin' at Adams. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm very sorry," says Adams, suddenly. "I should have remembered." +</P> + +<P> +And without another word or look, he exits. +</P> + +<P> +"Yellah!" snorts the Kid. +</P> + +<P> +"No spine!" sneers Miss Vincent. +</P> + +<P> +"Nick-looking boy—who is he?" asks the other dame, lookin' after him. +</P> + +<P> +Duke slaps his hands together all of a sudden and gazes at her like a +guy gettin' his first flash at his hour-old son. Then he looks after +Adams, grins and claps his hands again. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is he?" repeats the dame. +</P> + +<P> +De Vronde sneers. +</P> + +<P> +"Really," he says, "your interest is surprising. That fellow is my—" +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up!" roars Duke, springin' to the runnin'-board. "Here!" he goes +on, talkin' fast. "I'm gonna shoot them two interiors in half a hour, +so you better call this joy ride off!" He turns to the strange dame +and speaks very polite, "Miss Vincent will show you everything; if you +want anything, just 'phone the office." +</P> + +<P> +When they're gone, Duke turns to me and grins. +</P> + +<P> +"I often heard you say you made Scanlan welterweight champ," he says, +"by <I>pickin'</I> the guys he was to fight till he got where he could lick +'em <I>all</I>. Well, I'm gonna do the same thing for our friend Mister +Jack Adams, valet for Edmund De Vronde, the salesladies' joy. I'm +goin' in that boy's corner from this day on, and, when I get through, +he'll be a champ!" +</P> + +<P> +"What?" I says. "Train a guy like that for the ring? Why—" +</P> + +<P> +"I see you don't make me," he interrupts, "which is just as well, +because you'd be liable to ball the whole thing up, if you did. This +kid Adams has got symptoms of bein' a he-man in his face. He's hit the +bumps good and hard and right now he's down, takin' a long count. Now +whether he needs to be helped or kicked to his feet, I don't know, but +I'm the baby that's gonna stand him up!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I tells him, "go to it! But the thing I can't figure, is what +d'you care if he gets over or not—who pays <I>you</I> off on it?" +</P> + +<P> +He looks me over for a minute, registerin' deep thought. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm gonna give you the works!" he says finally. "And if you ever +mention a word of this to anybody, they'll have to identify your body +afterwards by that green vest you got!" +</P> + +<P> +"Rockefeller's three dollars short of havin' enough money to make me +tell!" I says. +</P> + +<P> +"Fair enough!" says Duke. "Did you notice that strange dame which was +with Miss Vincent in the car just now?" +</P> + +<P> +"The blonde that would of made Marc Anthony throw away Cleopatra's +'phone number?" I asks. "Yeh—I noticed her. Easily that!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he says, "this dame, which was such a knockout to you, is Miss +Dorothy Devine. When her father died last year, she become a orphan." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that's tough," I says. "Me and the Kid will kick in with any +amount in reason and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Halt!" said Eddie. "Her dear old father only left her a pittance of +fifty thousand a year and two-thirds control of the company we're all +workin' for out here. Now besides bein' several jumps ahead of the +average dame in looks, Dorothy is a few centuries ahead of the movies +in ideas. She claims we're all wrong, and she's gonna revolutionize +the watch-'em-move photo industry. That's what she's here for now!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I says after a bit, "what d'ye expect <I>me</I> to do—bust out +cryin'?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not yet!" he says. "I'll tell you when. Accordin' to Dorothy, all +the pictures we put out are rotten. Our heroes and villains are +plucked alive from dime novels and is everything but true to life. Our +heroines belong in fairy tales and oughta be let stay there. <I>She</I> +claims that no beautiful girl with more money than the U. S. Mint would +fall for the handsome lumberjack, and that no guy who couldn't do +nothin' better than punch cows would become boss of the ranch through +love of the owner's daughter. All that stuff's the bunk, she says. +Her dope is that a real man would boost himself to the top, girl or no +girl, and the woman never lived which could put a man over, if he +didn't have the pep himself. As a finish, she tells me that no +healthy, intelligent girl would stand for the typical movie hero. A +bird which would go out and ride roughshod over all the villains like +they do in the films would nauseate her, she says, and we have no right +to encourage this bunk by feedin' it to an innocent public!" +</P> + +<P> +"Eddie," I says, "she ain't a mile off the track, at that! This—" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, she ain't, eh?" he snarls. "Well that shows that you and her +knows as much about human nature as I do about makin' a watch! Miss +Devine wants us to put on a movie that she committed herself, and, if +we do, we'll be the laughin' stock of the world and Big Bend. It's got +everything in it but a hero, a heroine, a villain, action and love +interest. It's about as hot as one of them educational thrillers like +'Natives Makin' Panama Hats in Peoria' would be. A couple of these +would put the company on the blink, and I lose a ten-year contract at +ample money a year!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," I says, "what are you gonna do—quit?" +</P> + +<P> +"Your mind must be as clean as a baby's," he says, "because you got +your first time to use it! No, I ain't gonna quit! I'm gonna show +Miss Dorothy Devine that as a judge of movin' pictures, she's a +swell-lookin' girl. I like these tough games, a guy feels so good all +over when he wins 'em. She's startin' with all the cards—money, looks +and, what counts more, she's just about the Big Boss here now. All I +got is one good card and that's only a jack—Jack Adams, to be +exact—and I'm gonna beat her with him!" +</P> + +<P> +"I'll fall!" I says. "How?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well," he tells me, "my argument is that all these thrillers we put on +are sad, weary and slow compared to some of the things that happen in +real life every day that we never hear about. They's many a telephone +girl, for instance, makin' a man outa a millionaire's no-good son and +many a sure-enough heiress bein' responsible for the first mate on a +whaler becomin' her kind and a director in the firm! I claim it does +<I>good</I> and not harm, to feed this stuff to a trustin' public by way of +the screen. Why? Because every shippin'-clerk that's sittin' out in +front puts himself in the hero's place and every salesgirl dreams that +she's the heroine. Without thinkin', they both get to pickin' up the +virtues we pin on our stars, and it can't <I>help</I> but do 'em good! I +don't know who started the shimmy, but I know women and I know human +nature, and knowin' 'em both, I'm gonna make a sportin' proposition to +Miss Dorothy Devine!" +</P> + +<P> +"What's the bet?" I says. "I may take some of it myself." +</P> + +<P> +"The bet is this," he tells me. "Here's this boy Adams, who, bein' De +Vronde's valet, is undisputed low man in Film City. He's disgusted +with life, he ain't got the ambition of a sleepin' alligator, or nerve +enough to speak harshly to <I>himself</I>. All right! If Miss Devine will +follow my orders for a couple of weeks without Adams knowin' who or +what she is, I claim that bird will make good! All that guy needs is a +reason for tryin', and she can make herself it!" +</P> + +<P> +"You don't expect a dame like that to make love to a guy that cleans De +Vronde's shoes, do you?" I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"You must of been a terrible trial to teacher when you went to school!" +he snorts. "No!—I don't want her to make love to him. I want to +prove to her that the things we put in the movies is happenin' all the +time in real life, only more so! I want her to make Adams <I>feel</I> just +how far back he's gone. I want her to cut him dead, because he's a +valet, and let him know that's the reason. Then nature and him will do +the rest, or I'll pay off! Who put Adam over? Eve! All right, I'm +gonna wind this thing up and let it go. I'll take the best scenes from +the last six pictures we put out, and make Adams and Miss Devine play +'em out, without either of 'em knowin' it. They oughta be a villain, +and I'm shy one just now, but I'll lay six to five that one will turn +up!" +</P> + +<P> +"Look here!" I says. "Suppose Miss Devine should fall for this Adams +guy for <I>real</I>! Did you ever figure that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" he snorts. "And suppose the Pacific Ocean is made outa root +beer!" +</P> + +<P> +I guess Miss Devine must of been a sport, because Duke starts his +stunts off the next day. She promised to give Adams a month to show +signs of life and to do exactly as Duke tells her. Adams ain't to be +told a thing about it, and Miss Devine giggles herself sick over how +she's gonna show Duke the difference between real life and the movies. +They put up a thousand bucks apiece. +</P> + +<P> +The first action come off when Miss Devine and Adams meets in the +"Sahara Desert" set. +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning!" pipes Adams, bowin' and raisin' his hat. +</P> + +<P> +"I beg your pardon!" comes back Miss. Devine, drawin' herself up and +presentin' him with a glance that's colder than a dollar's worth of ice. +</P> + +<P> +"I—I—said good morning!" stammers Adams, kinda flustered. +</P> + +<P> +"You have made a mistake, my man!" she says, each word bein' about +twenty below zero. "A mistake I shall report to your master. I—" +</P> + +<P> +"But—," begins Adams, gettin' red. "You—" +</P> + +<P> +"That will do!" she cuts him off. "I'm not in the habit of arguing +with servants. You may go!" +</P> + +<P> +Sweet cookie! +</P> + +<P> +The poor kid looks like he'd stopped one with his chin and for the +first time since I'd seen him, he straightens up with his hard, white +face fairly quiverin'. I thought he was ready for a peach of a +come-back, but he fooled me. He walks off without a word. +</P> + +<P> +Miss Devine laughs like a kid with a new rattle and snaps her fingers +after him. +</P> + +<P> +The next day, Duke is directin' a scene in a big thriller they're +puttin' on and Miss Devine is appearin' in it as a super at his orders. +She's wearin' enough jewels to free Ireland and she looked better than +1912 would look to Germany. Adams is standin' on one side with his +arms full of De Vronde's different changes. +</P> + +<P> +Duke looks at Miss Devine for a minute and then raises his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Say—you!" he bawls at her. "What's the matter, can't you hear? You +made that exit wrong four times runnin', d'ye think we get this film +for nothin'? What d'ye mean by comin' here and ruinin' this scene on +me, eh? You wanna be a movie star, they tell me—well, you got the +same chance that I have of bein' made Sultan of Turkey! If you can +act, I'm King of Shantung! Why—" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Devine gasps and looks more than ever like a rose, by turnin' a +deep and becomin' shade of red. Nobody pays any attention to the +thing. They'd all heard it a million times before, when Duke was +rehearsin' supers. +</P> + +<P> +Nobody but Adams! +</P> + +<P> +He drops all of De Vronde's clothes right on the floor, and I thought +the fair Edmund would faint away dead! Adams walks right through the +camera men up to Duke and swings him around while he's still bawlin' +out Miss Devine. +</P> + +<P> +"That's enough!" he snarls, white to the ears. "One more word to this +lady, and I'll knock you down! You hound—you wouldn't dare use that +language to a man!" +</P> + +<P> +Duke's eyes sparkle, but he looks Adams over coolly and sneers. +</P> + +<P> +"Curse you, Jack Dalton!" he says. "Unhand that woman, or you shall +feel my power, eh?" He sticks his chin close to Adams's face. "Take +the air!" he growls. "Where d'ye get that leadin' man stuff? If I see +you around here any more this afternoon, I'll fire you and you'll walk +home for all the money you'll draw from this man's firm. Now, beat it!" +</P> + +<P> +Adams hesitates a minute, and then he looks like on second thought he's +scared at what he's done. He mumbles somethin' and walks right outa +the picture, nor even turnin' when De Vronde squawks at him for walkin' +over his silk duster which he'd throwed on the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"That's all for now, ladies and gentlemen!" pipes Duke suddenly, +turnin' to the bunch. "I'll shoot the rest of this to-morrow." +</P> + +<P> +They all blow out except Miss Devine. Duke looks at her, rubbin' his +hands together and grinnin'. +</P> + +<P> +"All right!" she smiles back. "First honors! What will I do next?" +</P> + +<P> +She didn't have to do nothin' next! The thing that Duke had started +got away from him and Adams led all the tricks from then to the finish. +Duke told me afterwards he felt like a guy which has lit a match on +Lower Broadway and seen the Woolworth Buildin' go up in flames! +</P> + +<P> +The very next afternoon, Mister Jack Adams becomes a star. Yes, sir! +</P> + +<P> +A gang of supers is hangin' around the general offices waitin' for +their pay. De Vronde and Miss Devine is sittin' at a cute little table +under a tree drinkin' lemonade, and Adams is standin' with the supers, +watchin'—Miss Devine. +</P> + +<P> +"Look at that big stiff tryin' to make the dame!" pipes one of the +extrys, a big husky grabbed up off the wharves in Frisco. He points at +De Vronde. "If I was built like he is, I'd eat arsenic!" +</P> + +<P> +Adams walks over to him. +</P> + +<P> +"Why?" he says, very cool and hard. +</P> + +<P> +"Heh?" says the super. "Why, look at 'im. Lookit the lace shirt he's +wearin' and them pink socks. Why—" +</P> + +<P> +"Shut up!" snarls Adams. "I know your kind—you think because a man +bathes, shaves, speaks English and wears clean linen, that there's +something wrong with him! You roughnecks resent the—" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I'd hate to be the family that brung that up!" interrupts the +super. "Gawd! It makes a man sick to look at 'im!" +</P> + +<P> +It all happened so quick that even Miss Devine and De Vronde didn't get +it. They's just a sudden swish—a crack of bone meetin' bone, and the +big super is flat on his ear! The rest of the gang mills around, +shoutin' and yellin', and Adams prods the super with the toe of his +shoe. I see Duke runnin' over with a couple of camera men which is so +excited they've even brought their machines along. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen!" spits out Adams, bendin' over the fallen gladiator. "Don't +make any more remarks like that about—about Mister De Vronde, while +I'm in this camp! If you do, I'll hammer you to mush! If you don't +believe that, get up now and I'll illustrate it!" +</P> + +<P> +The super plays dead, and Adams turns away. +</P> + +<P> +By this time, Miss Devine and De Vronde, on the outskirts of the mob, +has seen some of it. +</P> + +<P> +"Really," says De Vronde, frowning "you'll have to stop this brawling, +Adams! I can't have my man—" +</P> + +<P> +Adams gives him the up and down. +</P> + +<P> +"Aw, shut up!" he snarls—and blows. +</P> + +<P> +Well, right now I'm a million miles up in the air and no more +interested in the thing than the bartenders was in final returns of the +prohibition vote. They's two things I can't figure at all. One of 'em +is why Adams should knock a man kickin' for roastin' De Vronde, who +didn't have a friend in the place, and the other is what Duke and them +camera men is doin' there. +</P> + +<P> +About a week blows by, and then Miss Devine rides out alone one mornin' +on a big white stallion. In a hour the horse trots into camp with the +saddle empty. For the next twenty minutes they's more excitement in +and about Film City than they was at the burnin' of Rome, but while +Duke is gettin' up searchin' parties, Adams has cranked up Miss +Devine's roadster and is a speck of dust goin' towards Frisco. +</P> + +<P> +It was around five o'clock that afternoon, when he comes back and Miss +Devine is sittin' beside him. Her ankle is all bound up with +handkerchiefs and Adams is drivin' very slow and careful. He stops and +then turns to help her outa the car, but she dodges his arm, steps down +all by herself and without any sign of a limp, walks into the general +offices. +</P> + +<P> +Adams stands lookin' after her for a minute, kinda stunned. +</P> + +<P> +"What was the matter?" I asks him, runnin' up. +</P> + +<P> +"Why," he says, without lookin' at me; "she broke—she said she broke +her ankle. She—" +</P> + +<P> +Then he turns and runs the car into the garage. +</P> + +<P> +The next mornin' he quits! +</P> + +<P> +Duke broke the news, comin' over to Miss Devine, while I'm tellin' her +how Kid Scanlan clouted his way up to the title. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, Miss Devine," he growls, "I guess you win! Adams has left Film +City flat on its back. I thought that bird had the stuff in him, but I +guess you saw deeper than I did!" +</P> + +<P> +"I guess I did!" says Miss Devine kinda slow. "I knew he'd never stay." +</P> + +<P> +Duke clears his throat a coupla times, blows his nose and wipes his +forehead with a silk handkerchief—his only dissipation. +</P> + +<P> +"And now I got a confession to make," he says, throwin' back his +shoulders like he's bracin' himself for a punch. "Ever since the day I +played you against Adams, I been takin' a movie of you and him. Every +time you was together they was a camera man—and a good one—in the +offin'. You didn't know it and neither did Adams, but the result is a +peach of a movie that'll make us a lot of money, if you'll let me +release it. All I need is a couple more close-ups and—" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Devine has been listenin' like she was in a trance. She turned +more colors than they is in the flag, and, lemme tell you, they all +become her! +</P> + +<P> +"You—you—made a picture out of our—out of—me?" she gasps. +</P> + +<P> +Whatever else Eddie Duke is, he's game. +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh!" he nods. "And wait till you see it—it's great! Why, you got +Pickford lookin' like a amateur, and Adams will be a riot with the +girls the minute this movie's released! I wanted to prove to you that +the movies ain't got a thing on real life, and I did! Why Adams can +sign a contract with me any time he wants. That's makin' good, ain't +it? From valet to movie star in five reels—and who put him over? +<I>You</I>!!!" +</P> + +<P> +Before Miss Devine can say anything, we hear voices behind us. We're +standin' by a high hedge that had been set up for a picture that +mornin', and it was Miss Devine that motioned us to keep quiet. The +voices on the other side are Adams and De Vronde. +</P> + +<P> +"I've done my share!" De Vronde is sayin'. "I've been sending home—" +</P> + +<P> +"Eighty dollars a month!" cuts in Adams, in that new, cold voice of +his. "Eighty dollars a month to your father and mother, and you're +making a thousand a week. Eighty dollars a month, and you pay a +hundred and fifty for a suit! It's hard for me to call you a brother +of mine! Do you know why I whipped that bum the other day? For what +he said about you? No! Because I didn't want it thought that the +whole family was as yellow as you are! But I'm going to make you game. +You're going to turn what money you've hoarded over to Dad." +</P> + +<P> +We're all lookin' at each other—dumb-founded! Even Duke is pale and +pop-eyed. +</P> + +<P> +"By the Eternal, Miss Devine," he whispers in her ear. "I swear I +didn't know <I>that</I>! It don't happen in real life, eh? <I>Brothers</I>—by +the dust of Methuselah!" +</P> + +<P> +De Vronde is speakin', and we bend to listen. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't!" he chokes out. "Why, I'll—" +</P> + +<P> +We hear Adams snort. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop!" he says. "You can make more money than I can and make Ma and +Dad comfortable for the rest of their days. I'm going—" +</P> + +<P> +"About that girl—that Miss Devine," De Vronde breaks in, his voice +shaking "It's only right that you should know. She's made an ass of +you—she and that Duke person! You've been followed about and +everything you've done has been recorded by a camera. She had no +accident the other day—her ankle wasn't hurt—the horse was sent back +with the empty saddle deliberately—they photographed that, too! They +had a silly bet of some sort and—" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Devine steps deliberately right around the side of the hedge +almost into Adams's arms. He's white and lookin' much like he did the +first day he blowed into Film City. The minute he sees her he +straightens up. +</P> + +<P> +"How long have you been here?" he clips out. +</P> + +<P> +"I've heard—everything!" she says, lookin' him right in the eye. +</P> + +<P> +Adams runs his hand through his hair, and pulls a look that went +through me to the bone. I don't know how it hit Miss Devine. +</P> + +<P> +"And all of this—this—your attitude toward me—the accident—was +played to make a picture?" he says. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" says Miss Devine. "All except <I>this</I>!" And I hope I never see +another movie, if both her arms didn't go around his neck—right out +loud in public, too! "All except <I>this</I>!" she repeats. "And, oh, +Jack—this is <I>real</I>!!" +</P> + +<P> +"I win a thousand bucks!" pants Duke, draggin' me away—De Vronde blew +the minute she appeared on the scene—"I win a thousand bucks!" he +says. "And the picture is gonna be a riot! If they was only a good +camera man here now for that close up at the finish, eh? Still—I +guess that would be too raw!" He looks back where Adams and Miss +Devine is posin' for a picture of still life. "And she said this love +stuff was the bunk!" he hollers. "Oh, boy!!!!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER VIII +</H3> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +HOSPITAL STUFF +</H4> + +<P> +Every time I see a thermometer, a watch, and a egg my temperature +aviates to about a hundred and ninety-eight in the shade—and if they's +nobody lookin' I bust 'em! I spent two months and eight hundred bucks +with that layout once and, oh, lady!—Say! The next time I feel a +vacation comin' on, I'm goin' to Russia and holler, "Hooray for the +Czar!" +</P> + +<P> +I just been Red-Crossed to within a inch of my life and I'm off that +"take-two-once-every-twice, and don't-eat-any-this-or-drink-any-that" +stuff! The right cross and the double cross has been little pals of +mine for years, and I once got throwed out of school for pullin' that +"How to make a maltese cross" thing, but the <I>red</I> one was all new to +me up to last month. +</P> + +<P> +They call me a glutton for punishment, but I got—enough! +</P> + +<P> +I can't go in a drug store no more, because the sight of the +prescription bar in the rear affects me like strong drink and I even +had to lay off peas, because they look like pills. +</P> + +<P> +All the food I got durin' the time I become a victim of the Red Cross +could have been carried over the Rocky Mountains by a lame ant, and I +got a hole in my wrist that can be used as a ash tray from doctors +grabbin' it to give my pulse early mornin' workouts and clockin' it +over the full course. I was allowed two kinds of milk to drink—hot +and cold. The only thing I could get to read was wrote to order on the +premises and was all on the same subject, "Shake well before using!" +</P> + +<P> +The whole thing was brought on by two words and Genaro, which was +puttin' on this five-reel barbecue called "How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title," and take it from me, if the Kid had pulled off in Manhattan +some of the stunts he did in that picture, he would have won more than +the welterweight title—he'd have won the oil business from Rockefeller +the first night! +</P> + +<P> +The two words was "Don't jump!" and Genaro <I>didn't</I> say 'em—if he had, +the Kid would never have dove off a cliff and sprained his +million-dollar left arm, which triflin' detail caused <I>me</I> to get my +mail at a hospital for two months. +</P> + +<P> +It was in the third reel of this picture, which I see by the billboards +is liable to thrill the nation, that the thing happened. The Kid is +supposed to jump off a cliff to fool the plotters which is tryin' to +stop him from winnin' the title. They had picked out two of them +cliffs—one of 'em was a drop of three feet and the other was a drop of +twenty-one miles, accordin' to Scanlan, who made it and ought to know. +Anyhow, it was far enough! They was gonna show a close-up of the high +one first and then take a flash of Scanlan leapin' from the little one. +The Kid walks to the edge of that high one, looks down and some +fat-head camera man points a machine at him and starts turnin' the +crank. Genaro was to wave his handkerchief as a signal for the Kid to +dive off the <I>little</I> cliff and Scanlan, kinda puzzled, watches him. +Just as he's walkin' away from the edge, Genaro blows his nose! The +Kid sees the camera man and the handkerchief, and not wantin' to act +yellah before the bunch, he—jumps! +</P> + +<P> +A lot of excitement was had by all and Scanlan sprained his arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah!" yells Genaro. "She'sa make the greata scene! What you think +thisa Meester Scanlan he'sa joomp off wan mountain for art? That'sa +real arteeste! He'sa killa himself for maka picture for Genaro! Ah—I +embrace heem!" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Vincent begins by faintin'. Then she comes to, throws a rock at a +camera man which is takin' a close up of her unconscious, kneels at the +Kid's side and kisses him right out loud before everybody. She claims, +if he proves to be dead, she'll leave the company flat and have Genaro +tried for murder before a judge which had been tryin' for two years to +do somethin' for her. They finally carried the Kid up to the hotel, +and sent for a doctor which was recommended by Eddie Duke. Accordin' +to Eddie, this friend of his had the average doctor lookin' like a drug +clerk. Pluckin' people from the grave was his specialty, says Eddie. +</P> + +<P> +I guess they had to wait till this graverobber graduated from college, +because it was over a hour before he showed up. He gets out of a buggy +that was all the rage about the time Washington was thinkin' of goin' +in the army, and the animal that was draggin' it along had been a total +failure at tryin' to be a horse. The doc wasn't a day over +seventy-five and he was dressed in a hat that must have come with the +buggy, a pair of shoes like grandpa used to wear to work and a set of +white whiskers. If he had any clothes on, I didn't see 'em. All I +seen was them whiskers! I figured, if he had plucked people from the +grave, like Eddie Duke claimed, he must have did it after they was dead. +</P> + +<P> +He didn't look very encouragin' to me, but I led him upstairs and into +the room where Scanlan was just comin' to and askin' what round it was. +Eddie Duke and Miss Vincent was at his bedside, and the rest of the +gang was outside the door arguyin' over which was the best undertaker +in Frisco. I slipped away to a telephone booth and called up +information. +</P> + +<P> +"Gimme the best doctor in California!" I says, flickin' a jitney in the +slot. +</P> + +<P> +"For a nickel?" giggles the dame on the other end. +</P> + +<P> +"Stop it!" I says. "I got a man here that's liable to croak any +minute—this ain't no time for comedy! Ah—what time do you get off?" +</P> + +<P> +"I never go out with strangers," she says, "but you got a nice voice at +that. Where is your friend doin' his sufferin' at?" +</P> + +<P> +"Film City!" I tells her. "And my voice ain't got nothin' on yours. I +don't want to give you no short answer, but can I get the doctor now?" +</P> + +<P> +"I got him waitin'," she says. "If I was you, I wouldn't let 'em fill +your friend full of dope; fresh air and sunshine's got the druggist +beat eighty ways! Good-by, Cutey—gimme a ring after the funeral!" +</P> + +<P> +"This is the Hillcrest Sanitarium," pipes another voice over the wire, +very sedate and dignified. +</P> + +<P> +"And this is Johnny Green," I comes back, "manager of Kid Scanlan, the +welterweight champ. We've throwed you people a lot of trade. Only a +short while ago Scanlan flattened Young Hogan in two rounds, and Hogan +was took there from the ring, remember? Well, I want the boss doctor +there sent to Film City right away!" +</P> + +<P> +With that begins a argument that went about fifteen minutes, and which +I finally win by a shade. It seems it wasn't the regular thing for the +head doctor there to answer night bells and so forth, like a ordinary +medico, and the goin' was rather tough for awhile. Three or four +times, when I was ready to quit, this telephone dame, which was takin' +it all in with both ears, cut in with advice and helpful hints till the +guy on the other end had enough and says he'll come. +</P> + +<P> +The first thing that met my eye, when I got back to the Kid, was Eddie +Duke's friend, the greatest doctor in the world. He was walkin' very +fast away from the hotel and mutterin' to himself. I just had time to +grab his arm, as he jumps in the buggy and reaches for the whip. +</P> + +<P> +"Will he live, doc?" I asks him. +</P> + +<P> +"Bah!" he snorts, jerkin' away from me. "The ignorant little pup!" +</P> + +<P> +He whales Old Dobbin with the whip and leaves me flat. +</P> + +<P> +I couldn't figure out what the Kid's education had to do with his +health, so I beats it upstairs and all but fell over Eddie Duke. He's +holdin' one eye and mumblin' somethin' about "roughnecks" and +"ingratitude." I kept on through the crowd and into the Kid's room. +Scanlan is still on the bed groanin', and beside him is the hotel +clerk, thumbin' a almanac. +</P> + +<P> +"Wait!" pants the clerk, as I come in. "I'll have it in a second." He +turns over a lot more pages and then he hollers, "Ah! Here we +are—what did I tell you? 'First Aid to the Injured.'" He clears his +throat and the Kid looks up hopefully. "Number one," reads the clerk. +"<I>'First send for a physician!'</I>" He drops the book and dashes for the +door. "Don't do nothing till I get back!" he yells. +</P> + +<P> +Scanlan starts to go after him, but moans and falls back on the bed. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish I had a gun!" he snarls. "That big boob has been here fifteen +minutes tellin' me all he was gonna do for me as soon as he found it in +the book! He—" +</P> + +<P> +"Didn't the doctor do no good?" I butts in, sittin' on the side of the +bed. +</P> + +<P> +"Doctor?" says the Kid. "What doctor?" +</P> + +<P> +"Eddie Duke's friend," I tells him. "The old—" +</P> + +<P> +Scanlan leans up on his good arm. +</P> + +<P> +"Listen, Johnny!" he says. "I still got a wallop in my right! Don't +kid me now or—" +</P> + +<P> +"What d'ye mean kid you?" I asks him. "Didn't the doctor—" +</P> + +<P> +"Doctor!" he interrupts me, slammin' down the pillow. "If that guy was +a doctor, I'm Caruso! He comes in here where I'm practically dyin' and +tries to sell me a book!" +</P> + +<P> +"Gimme it all!" I gasps. +</P> + +<P> +"He sits down at the bed," explains the Kid, "and takes a big, black +book out of what I figured was his medicine chest. He holds it up and +asks me if I see it and I says I did, thinkin' I had passed the first +test easy. Then he says he wrote the book himself and it's full of +hope and cheer or dope and beer—to tell you the truth, I don't know +which it was on account of the pain. Anyhow, I let him get away with +it, and he tells me to think of how lucky I actually am alongside of +the Crown's Prince of Germany—and then he begins to read from that +book! It seems it's a novel about faith bein' stronger than pain. By +this time, I seen that he was either nutty or tryin' to kid me, so I +cut him off by askin' him when he's gonna fix up my arm. He says he's +doin' it now, and when he gets through, he'll leave the book which will +be a total of twenty-five bucks. When I come to, I ask him how long he +had been a doctor, and he gets sore and claims he's a healer of the +Mystic Sliders or somethin' like that, and what do I mean by callin' +him a doctor? Then I called him a few other things so's he wouldn't +have no kick comin' and gave him the bum's rush out of the room. Eddie +Duke starts to moan about me maulin' his friend, and—well, get him to +show you his eye!" +</P> + +<P> +The door opens suddenly and Miss Vincent sticks the curls which all the +shop girls is copyin' around the side of it. +</P> + +<P> +"It's the doctor!" she whispers. +</P> + +<P> +"Say!" pipes the Kid, grabbin' a pillow. "That old guy is game, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"A fightin' fool!" I agrees. +</P> + +<P> +But this time a tall, solemn-lookin' guy breezes into the room and +stares at me and the Kid with the same warm friendliness that a +motorcycle cop regards a boob tryin' out a new auto. I figured he was +the bird I had ordered by 'phone, and hit 1000 on the guess. He leans +over the Kid, prods him around a bit, and then goes over him like he +had lost somethin' and thought maybe he'd find it there. Then he +straightens up and grunts. +</P> + +<P> +"Hmph!" he says. "This man is a nervous wreck! Completely run +down—needs rest and diet. I have my car outside and can take him over +to the sanitarium, if—are you a relative?" +</P> + +<P> +"His manager," I explains. "How about the arm, doc?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing!" he says. "Wrenched—that's all. Come—help him downstairs, +I'll wait." +</P> + +<P> +I took out a five-case note. +</P> + +<P> +"What do we owe you, doc?" I asks him, hopin' for the best. +</P> + +<P> +"My consultation fee is fifty dollars!" he says, without battin' an eye. +</P> + +<P> +I staggered back against the bureau. +</P> + +<P> +"Every time you see me it's gonna set me back fifty?" asks the Kid, +with tears in his voice. +</P> + +<P> +The doc gives him a cold nod. +</P> + +<P> +"Couldn't I take some treatment by mail?" pipes Scanlan, hopefully. +</P> + +<P> +"Cease!" I says, takin' out the old checkbook. "What's your name, doc?" +</P> + +<P> +"James," he says, "J. T. James." +</P> + +<P> +"What's the J stand for?" I asks, shakin' out the pen. +</P> + +<P> +"Jesse!" butts in Scanlan. "Heh, doc?" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean to insinuate that I'm robbing you?" says the doc, frownin' +at him. +</P> + +<P> +"No," says the Kid, takin' the check from me and handin' it to him, "I +don't blame a guy for tryin', but—" +</P> + +<P> +I shut him off and dragged him downstairs before they was any hard +feelin's. We climbed in the doctor's bus and at the Kid's request, +Miss Vincent come along with us. Then we went after the road record +between Film City and the Hillcrest Sanitarium. I guess this doctor +was born with a steerin' wheel in his hand, because we took some +corners on that trip that would have worried a snake, and when he threw +her in high, we breezed along so swift we could have made a bullet +quit. Finally, we come to a great big buildin' all hedged off with an +iron fence and if you've ever seen a souvenir post card with "Havin' a +fine time. Wish you were here," on it, you know what it looked like. +</P> + +<P> +The doctor tells me and Miss Vincent to wait in the office, and he goes +out with the Kid. In about fifteen minutes he's back and calls me over +to a desk. They's a long piece of paper there and he says to sit down +and fill it out, but, after one flash at it, I asked him could I take +it home to work over, because my fountain pen was better on sprints +than long distance writin' and this looked like a good two-hour job. +He gives me another one of them North Pole stares and remarks that if +the thing ain't filled out at once, the Kid won't be admitted to the +sanitarium. +</P> + +<P> +"He's in now, ain't he?" I comes back. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes!" he snaps. "And he'll be out, if that paper isn't drawn up +instantly!" +</P> + +<P> +Miss Vincent giggles and hisses in my ear. +</P> + +<P> +"They say the child is in London!" she pipes. "Sign that paper, curse +you! We are in his power!" +</P> + +<P> +Well, I seen I had to do a piece of writing so I grabbed up that paper +and let the fountain pen go crazy. I give the Kid's entire name, where +he was born, what his people did to fool the almshouse, what was his +mother's maiden name and why, whether he went to church or Billy +Sunday, was he white and could he prove it, who started the war and a +lot of bunk like that. The guy who doped out the entrance examinations +for that hospital must have been figurin' on how many he could keep +<I>out</I>. When I run out of ink, I took out a copy of the <I>Sportin' +Annual</I>, tore off the Kid's record and pasted it at the bottom of the +page. +</P> + +<P> +"How's that?" I asks, passin' it over. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well," he says, glancin' at it. "Mister Scanlan is in room 45. +That will be one-fifty—a hundred and fifty!" +</P> + +<P> +"The price," I says, gettin' dizzy. "Not your weight!" +</P> + +<P> +"That's the price," he tells me. "A hundred and fifty a week." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm afraid the old bankroll is <I>too</I> weak," I says,—"too weak for +that, anyhow. Drag the Kid out of that bridal suite and let him sleep +in the hall. I'll—" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, the idea!" butts in Miss Vincent. "You let him stay where he is, +doctor. The money will be paid." +</P> + +<P> +Before I could say anything, the door opens and in comes the dame that +poses for all the magazine covers, dressed like a nurse. I never was +much on describin'—I probably wouldn't have got ten people to watch +the battle of Gettysburg if I'd have been the press agent—but this was +the kind of dame that all the wealthy patients fall in love with in the +movies—yeh, and out of 'em! The little white cap on top of her head +looked like a dash of whipped cream on a peach sundae, and if you +wouldn't have blowed up the city hall for the smile she sent around the +room, I feel sorry for you. She crosses over and, in passin' me, she +begs my pardon and threw that smile into high. +</P> + +<P> +A hundred and fifty a week, eh? Well—I dives in my inside pocket. +</P> + +<P> +"May I have your check, Mister—eh—ah—" pipes the doc. +</P> + +<P> +"Green," I helps him out, "Johnny Green. Can you have a <I>check</I>? You +said it!" I sits down and writes one out. +</P> + +<P> +"Why this is for three hundred dollars!" he busts out, lookin' at it. +</P> + +<P> +"Even so, brother," I grins, stealin' a slant at the Venus de +California. "That's for me and the Kid. Gimme a room next to his +and—" +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think this is a hotel?" he frowns at me. +</P> + +<P> +"I should care!" I tells him. "Let me in—that's all <I>I</I> want!" +</P> + +<P> +With that the nurse remarks that the Kid is ready to see us, so me and +Miss Vincent folleys her down the hall and she opens a door and calls +in, +</P> + +<P> +"Visitors, Mister Scanlan!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yeh?" pipes the Kid in a show-em-the exit voice. "Ah—can I have a +drink of—ah—water?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly," she says. "I'll bring it now." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't rush it!" says the Kid. "It might curdle! Wait till the +attendance falls off a bit!" +</P> + +<P> +She laughs—and Miss Vincent didn't. +</P> + +<P> +"Oho!" whispers the pet of the movies. "Like that, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +We go in the room, and there's Scanlan layin' in the whitest bed I even +seen in my life and lookin' about as miserable as a millionaire's +nephew on the day his uncle dies. There's about three hundred pillows +under his head and neck, his arm is all bandaged up and beside the bed +is a table with a set of flowers on it. +</P> + +<P> +And then there was that nurse! +</P> + +<P> +"Pretty soft!" I says. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid grins and then twists around to Miss Vincent and groans. +</P> + +<P> +"Does it hurt much, you poor dear?" she says. +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder how I stand it!" pipes the Kid, keepin' his face from me. +</P> + +<P> +"Can I get you anything?" she asks him after a minute. +</P> + +<P> +"Well," answers the Kid, "if I did want something we could send Johnny +for it." He looks at me meanin'ly. "Go out and git the right time!" +he tells me. "And while you're at it—take lots of it!" +</P> + +<P> +I went outside and closed the door. I remembered bein' in a hospital +once, where they was examinin' guys for nerves, and one of the tests +was hittin' 'em in the knee with a book and watchin' if their legs flew +out. I don't remember the name of the book, but I figured on takin' a +chance. I breezed out to the desk in the hall and filled out one of +them entry blanks about myself, and then I dug up the doctor. +</P> + +<P> +"Doc," I says, "I wish you'd gimme the East and West, there's somethin' +the matter with my nerve. I know you can fix me up, if anybody can, +because you got so much yourself." +</P> + +<P> +"Just what is the East and West?" he asks me. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, look me over!" I explains. "I wanna see what I need or should +get rid of." +</P> + +<P> +He leads me in a little room to one side, and goes over me like a +lawyer lookin' for a clause in a contract he can bust. He looks at my +tongue till it begin to quiver from exposure to the air; he clocks my +pulse at a mile, two miles and over the jumps; he stuck a telephone +like you see in the foreign movies over my heart and listened in on the +internal gossip for twenty minutes; he walloped me on the chest with +the best he had and made me sing a song called +"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!" Then he shakes his head and tells me to put +on my coat. +</P> + +<P> +"You're one of the healthiest specimens I ever examined!" he says. +"There's absolutely nothing the matter with you." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, that's certainly tough, doc," I tells him, "because I sure want +to win one of them rooms like Scanlan has. I—wait a minute!" I +hollers, gettin' a flash. "You didn't gimme the book test!" +</P> + +<P> +I hops over to the desk and grabs up a book off it. It was a big thick +one called "Paralysis to Pneumonia," and was written by a couple of +Greeks named "Symptoms and Therapeutics." I never heard of the thing +before, and I wished it had been "Uncle Tom's Cabin" or somethin' like +that, but I took a chance. +</P> + +<P> +"Here!" I says. "I don't know if this is the right one or not, but +let's try it out on my knee, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +I seen he didn't make me, so I explains about the nerve test I seen +where some of the guys throwed out their legs when hit, and some of 'em +didn't. He gimme the laugh then, and tells me to look out of the +window. I did and they's a terrible crash in back of me, but I kept +lookin' out like he told me. Then he says all right, I can turn +around, and, when I did, I see the book case has fell over on the +floor. He claims if I had been nervous, I would have jumped eighty +feet when it crashed down and as they is nothin' the matter with me, I +might as well be on my way. Well, I was up against it—but only for a +minute. That last crack of his gimme an idea. I makes a leap across +the floor, grabs my heart and starts to shake and shiver like a bum in +one of them "Curse of Drink" productions. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter?" he calls out. +</P> + +<P> +I looks wildly around the room, and I seen a fly upside down on the +window-sill tryin' to get to its feet. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" I says. "I'm so nervous, doc, I'm shakin' like a crap-shooter. +D'ye see that fly? Well, it must have fell off the window just +then—it gimme an awful shock—y'know that sudden noise and—" +</P> + +<P> +He throws up his hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Come!" he tells me. "I'll assign you to a room." +</P> + +<P> +That's how I come to get mixed up with the Red Cross. +</P> + +<P> +Pretty soon they had the Kid's arm better than it ever was, but as they +was still workin' on his nerves, we stuck around at the sanitarium. +We're both on a diet, which meant that at each meal-time we was fed +about enough food to nourish a healthy infant about a half hour old. +The general idea of the stuff was along nursery lines, too—milk, eggs +and baby fodder, three times a day. I was O.K. when I went in there, +but in a couple of weeks I was the prize patient on account of them +meals. They tell me I raved one night and bellered for a rattle, and +Scanlan made the nurse tell him all about Jack the Giant Killer and Old +Mother Hubbard. The place must have been run by a guy who believed in +lettin' the dumb animals live, because you couldn't have got a piece of +meat in there, if you begged 'em for it till you was black in the face. +You could have milk and eggs or eggs and milk—that was the limit! +</P> + +<P> +One mornin' the orderly forgets himself and asks me what I want for +breakfast. I thought they had let down the bars at last, and I all but +jumped out of the bed. +</P> + +<P> +"Gimme a steak, French fried potatoes, coffee and hot rolls," I says. +"Have the potatoes well done and the steak rare." +</P> + +<P> +"Rave on," he answers me. "Do you want the eggs boiled, fried or +scrambled? Ain't there no particular way you like 'em?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not no more!" I groans, and falls back on the sheets. +</P> + +<P> +The only bright spot in the whole thing was Miss Woods, the nurse that +caused me to enter the place. She used to come in every mornin' and +make me play a thermometer was a lollypop and I held the thing in my +mouth while she took my temperature and pulled a clock on my pulse. +Then the orderly would come in and take the fruit friends had left for +me, and I'd be all set for the day. When I kicked about the food, Miss +Woods claimed I ought to be tickled to get eggs to eat, because they +was very expensive on account of the late war. I says I didn't know +they had been fightin' with eggs in Europe, and she laughs and says I'm +delicious. She brought me in a book to read and on the cover it's all +about the nights of Columbus. I didn't even open the thing, because +what kind of nights could Columbus have had—they was nothin' doin' in +them days. She asks me what my occupation was and says maybe she could +arrange so's I could work at it while I was there to keep my mind off +things. I says I <I>dared</I> anything to keep my mind off of her, and she +kinda frowns; so's to brighten things up I says before I come there I +had been a deck steward on a submarine, and it gets a laugh. Then she +says I looked like a bookkeeper, and I didn't know whether that was a +boost or a knock, so I passed it off by sayin' I had a chance to be +that when young, but had to give it up because I couldn't stand the +smell of ink. +</P> + +<P> +After we have kidded like that for a while, I admits bein' Kid +Scanlan's manager, and with that she suddenly runs to the door and +closes it tight. She comes back on tip-toes, leans over the bed +lookin' at me for a minute and then she asks me very soft would I do +somethin' for her. I had got as far as offerin' to dive off the Singer +Buildin' into a bucket of water, when she cuts me off and tells me to +listen to her as they wasn't much time. +</P> + +<P> +She asked me had I ever noticed a big, husky, black-haired guy out in +the exercise yard. I said I had. I remembered a big whale of a man, +with the face of a frightened kid, walkin' up and down, up and down, +all day long. Every now and then he'd stop and pick up a pebble or a +handful of dirt and take it to one side where he'd examine it for half +an hour. Then he'd throw it away and start that sentry thing again. +</P> + +<P> +Well, she said, this bird had been down to South America where he had +discovered some kind of a mineral that had made him very rich and some +kind of a fever that had made him very sick. He was at the sanitarium +so's the doctors could keep a eye on him, the bettin' bein' about seven +to five that he would go nutty, if some excavatin' wasn't done +immediately on his dome. A operation will save him, but his parents +won't think of it, and there you are. When she stopped, I told her +that whilst I never had performed no operations before, beyond once +when I pulled a loose tooth of Scanlan's between the second and third +round of a fight, I would get somebody to sneak me in some tools and +get to work on the big guy the first chance I got. She give a little +squeal and says that wasn't what she wanted me to do, gettin' pale and +prettier every minute. I seen I pulled a bone, so I asks her to come +right out with it and whatever she said I'd do it or break a leg. +</P> + +<P> +"Then when Mr. Scanlan takes his exercise every day with the boxing +gloves and punching bag," she says, "get him to persuade Arthur to join +him. Arthur would do it for him quicker than he would for me or any of +the doctors. He thinks we are all in league against him and he admires +Mr. Scanlan—I've read it in his face as he watches him out in the +yard. Arthur himself was a noted athlete before he went to South +America. He might even box with Mr. Scanlan. That would lessen the +tension on his mind and we might get him to see that an operation +is—Oh! Will you do it?" she breaks off suddenly, grabbin' my hand. +</P> + +<P> +"Will I?" I says, holdin' on to that hand. "If Scanlan don't box him, +I'll take him on myself!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, thank you—thank you!" she whispers, "I—" +</P> + +<P> +"That's all right!" I cuts her off. "Is—ah—is the big fellow any +relation to you?" +</P> + +<P> +She blushed. Yeh—and I looked at her, forgettin' a lot of things +about both of us that didn't quite match—and wished! I got everything +I had together for one good try, bein' handicapped by the fact that I +still had her hand and that room was goin' around like a top. And +then, poor boob—I looked down at the hand I didn't have, wonderin' why +she didn't answer me—and saw the answer on one finger. The darned +cold, glitterin' thing seemed to sneer at me. I felt like I'd stopped +one with my chin, and somethin' went outa me that ain't back yet. +What? Well, a guy can hope, can't he? +</P> + +<P> +Say! That ring must have cost five hundred bucks—it was a pip! +</P> + +<P> +I grabbed a drink of that darned milk to steady myself, and I seen from +the way she looked at me that she got me. +</P> + +<P> +"I see!" I says, lettin' go of the hand that belonged to friend Arthur. +"He—and he went to South America, eh?" +</P> + +<P> +"Listen!" she whispers, bendin' over. "You know now what this means to +me. If you'll help me, I'll do anything for you! Why—" +</P> + +<P> +I sat up in bed and grabbed her hand again. +</P> + +<P> +"Anything?" I asks her. +</P> + +<P> +She looks out the window, gets pale and grits her teeth. You could see +she wished she hadn't said it, but she was game and was standin' pat. +</P> + +<P> +"Anything!" she says. +</P> + +<P> +"Then for the love of heaven!" I shoots out, "get me a piece of meat! +This egg and milk thing is drivin' me nutty!" +</P> + +<P> +She wheeled around so quick the scared look was still on her face, and +for a minute we both just looked. Then she give a kinda nervous little +laugh, grabbed both my hands, squeezed 'em like a man—and blew! +</P> + +<P> +Oh, boy! I ain't no hard loser but— +</P> + +<P> +Well, it wasn't no trick at all to get big Arthur to box with the Kid. +He took to it like a chorus girl does to a telephone and what puzzled +me was why none of them fifty dollar doctors hadn't thought of it +before. I guess it was because they was nobody there husky enough to +handle him by themselves, because Arthur packed a wallop in each hand +that meant curtains, if it landed. Behind that was six-foot-two of +bone and about two hundred and forty pounds of muscle. +</P> + +<P> +The Kid labored with him like a mother with a baby. He taught him how +to duck, feint, jab, uppercut, swing, stall, rough in the clinches, +everything he knew, and Arthur learned awful quick. So quick that we +had to cut the bouts down to twenty minutes each, because the big guy +didn't <I>know</I> and he was <I>tryin'</I> with every punch! +</P> + +<P> +The doctors told Scanlan to talk operation to him, and the Kid tried it +once. Arthur stopped boxin' and looked at him so reproachful that +Scanlan refused to mention it again. He said he looked just like a kid +that come down Christmas mornin' and found no tree. +</P> + +<P> +Finally, me and the Kid packed up and kissed the sanitarium good-by, +but every afternoon at three we went over and Scanlan put on the gloves +with Arthur for a while, because I had give my word to his girl. +Arthur got so he lived all the rest of the day and night lookin' +forward to three o'clock in the afternoon. He snarled at the doctors, +cuffed the orderlies, didn't know Miss Woods from the iron gate that +kept him in there, but the minute Scanlan breezed into the yard with +the gloves his face would be one big smile. +</P> + +<P> +This went on for three months—and then Miss Vincent stepped into the +thing. +</P> + +<P> +She wanted to know where the Kid was goin' every afternoon at three +o'clock, and like a simp, I told her the whole story. She thanks me +with a odd look that I didn't get till that night, when the Kid comes +tearin' in to our room at the hotel and slams the door. When he gets +where he can make his tongue do like he asks it, he says it's all off +between him and Miss Vincent. By usin' some judgment and four hours of +time I find out that Miss Vincent thinks this stuff about the Kid +boxin' Arthur is a lot of bunk and the Kid was really goin' back to the +sanitarium every day to see Miss Woods. She has give that nurse the +once over and then used some woman's arithmetic which makes two and two +equal nine, get me? Well, one word led to another, and finally she +tells him if he don't cut the sanitarium out, she's off him for life. +</P> + +<P> +That's a bad way to handle Scanlan. He's Irish and—you know! +</P> + +<P> +He told her we give our word and he was gonna box Arthur till they +remodeled Arthur's skull, no matter what happened. Then Miss Vincent +gets sensible and weeps. In a minute the Kid is on his knees, and she +shows more sense than usual by chasin' him at that point. At the +bottom of the stairs, Scanlan calls up and asks if he can kiss her good +night. She tells him it's too late now, he has missed the +psychological moment. +</P> + +<P> +That last was what had the Kid up in the air. He didn't know what it +meant, except that it was a cinch she wasn't wishin' him good luck. +That psychological thing was past me, too. I looked it up in the +dictionary, and it was there all right, but it could have been in +Russia as far as I was concerned, because the way it described it was +over my head. The Kid finally puts it right up to Miss Vincent, and +she tells him to find out for himself. +</P> + +<P> +"Go over to that trick sanitarium of yours, and ask Miss Woods," she +tells him scornfully. "Maybe <I>she</I> can tell you what it means!" +</P> + +<P> +But at two o'clock, when the Kid is leavin' for his daily maulin' bee +with big Arthur, she comes along in her racin' car and asks him to go +to Los Angeles with her. The Kid stalls and says he's just about got +time to get over and give the South American entry a workout, although +he'd rather take the ride with her than defend his title against a +one-armed blind man. She frowns for a minute, and then she smiles and +says hop in with her and she'll drive him over to the sanitarium. +</P> + +<P> +When they blowed in that night at seven o'clock, I seen the Kid looks +kinda worried, while he's washin' the Golden West off his face and +neck, so I ask him how Arthur is comin' along. Scanlan coughs a couple +of times and then he says he don't know, because he wasn't able to get +over there that afternoon—the first he'd missed since I promised the +world's champion girl I'd assist her. While I'm still bawlin' him out, +he claims it wasn't his fault, because the car broke down in the middle +of California and they had to get towed back. +</P> + +<P> +I <I>will</I> say I was sorry to find out that Miss Vincent wasn't above a +little rough stuff! Oh, you ladies! +</P> + +<P> +The next day Genaro suddenly decides to take a scene in the Kid's +movie, and as we was under contract we had to stay. The third +afternoon, Miss Vincent gets a terrible headache and the Kid has to sit +on the hotel porch with her, readin' out loud her press notices from +the movie magazines. +</P> + +<P> +I kept out of it, but thinkin' about Arthur and that little nurse over +there had me bitin' nails, and the next day I told the Kid if he didn't +go out and trade wallops with Arthur, I was through as his pilot. I +said that right out loud in front of Miss Vincent, lookin' her right in +them famous baby-blue eyes of hers. But you can't figure women—she +crossed me and tells the Kid to go and she'd go with him! +</P> + +<P> +We went out in her racin' car, with me ridin' on the runnin' board and +thinkin' what a fine thing accident insurance was for a guy of moderate +means. By dumb luck we missed crashin' into the scenery along the road +and stopped outside the iron gates of the sanitarium. We had hardly +got in the office, when from down the hall we heard what sounded like a +race riot, and a couple of orderlies goes past us so fast that I didn't +believe it could be done, although I seen 'em. The Kid runs down to +where the noise was comin' from and I tagged along in the rear, +stoppin' with him outside a big two-doored room, where from the sounds +that crashed out from inside they was puttin' on a dress rehearsal of a +race riot. +</P> + +<P> +While we stood there lookin' at each other, a familiar deep snarlin' +voice roars out over the others—they was a scream, too, that made me +neck and neck with the Kid as we busted in the locked doors and went +sprawlin' inside. +</P> + +<P> +Oh, boy! +</P> + +<P> +A half dozen nurses and two or three doctors is lined up against the +wall on the far side, crouchin' back of an operatic table and tryin' to +force their bodies through the hard cement. The place looks like a +cyclone had hit it, with the walls scraped and scarred and the floor +covered with plaster and what not like the show-room of a junk shop. +Half on the floor and half on a chair is Miss Woods. I hoped she had +only fainted. +</P> + +<P> +In the middle of the room and backin' against the doors is a big, +growlin', red-eyed killer that used to be Arthur. +</P> + +<P> +Most of his clothes is torn off where some of them poor little human +bein's had tried to hold him, and over his head he's swingin' a iron +pole he'd torn from the fancy front gate outside. Each time he swings, +he comes nearer that bunch with nothin' between them and Heaven but a +white enameled table. He didn't seem to notice Scanlan, who slid +almost to his feet, and rightin' himself like a cat, stepped back to +size the thing up. Then with a growl, Arthur chops at the operatin' +table with the pole and crumbles it like a berry box. The women +screamed—I think one of 'em fainted. The doctors spread in front of +them, as Arthur raised the pole to finish the job. +</P> + +<P> +And then Scanlan, poppin' up from somewheres, jumps in front of Arthur, +his face the color of that busted table, but his body as steady as the +Rockies, as he plants himself there before the big guy, swingin' his +head back easily before that tremblin' iron pole. The Kid throws his +hands up in a fightin' position and dances from one foot to the other +lookin' for a openin', like a guy with a pail of water tryin' to put +out hell! Arthur hesitates, starin' wildly at the Kid, and then his +face begins to change till it's almost human. He looks like he's +tryin' to think. +</P> + +<P> +"Come on!" bawls Scanlan—loud, to keep the crack out of his voice. +"Come on!" He dances around Arthur and makes a pass at him. "I got +some new ones to show you to-day!" he yells. "Hurry up, or +we—won't—have—time—to—mix it!" +</P> + +<P> +I remember the head doc told me afterwards it was because the big +feller had been doin' that every day—boxin' with the Kid—for so long +that it— +</P> + +<P> +But what's that matter now? Arthur dropped that iron pole, put up his +hands, grins like a baby and rocks the Kid with a straight left, while +them nurses and doctors tumbled out of the room thankin' their +different gods. Somebody carried out Miss Woods, too. +</P> + +<P> +I guess Scanlan never battled before like he did in the next ten +minutes, because he was fightin' for the biggest purse he ever climbed +in a ring for—his life! The big guy smashed him all over the place +tryin' for a knockout like the Kid had taught him, crushin' his ribs in +the clinches till Scanlan's breathin' cut me to the heart and rainin' +wallops on him like a machine gun. Me? Oh, I didn't do much but root +for the Kid. Y'see I was beside that operatic table when Arthur lammed +it with the pole—some of it kinda glanced off and I stopped it with my +head. A game little bantam of a doctor hopped around 'em, as they +slewed over the floor, lookin' like a referee—but he was simply tryin' +to slip friend Arthur a hypodermic while Scanlan kept him busy. +</P> + +<P> +Finally, the Kid staggers Arthur with a lucky right smash to the chin, +and then a half a dozen left and rights to the body cut his size down +to where the Kid could put all he had left in one swing—and it's all +over. The little doc with the hypo gets busy, and, when we left the +room, Arthur was headed for the operatin' pen—his trip havin' been +interrupted by the slight excitement Scanlan had stopped! +</P> + +<P> +Well, me and the Kid was hustled upstairs to be fussed over, windin' +up, you might say, where we started, in the hospital. After a time +Miss Woods comes up and thanks us—at least she made a stab at it and +weeps. The operation had been a success, and when Arthur could walk he +was gonna reward Miss Woods for her lovin' care by marryin' her, and +she looked like she thought that was enough—ain't women a scream? +</P> + +<P> +We was talkin' to the doctor, when Miss Vincent come in—stands in the +doorway for a minute lookin' like a swell picture in a punk frame, and +comes to the Kid with a yours-for-keeps look in her eyes. Scanlan +throws up his head like he's just thought of somethin'. +</P> + +<P> +"Say!" he pipes through the bandages. "I know what that psychological +moment thing is now—the doc has just been tellin' me. It seems," he +says with a grin. "It seems I pulled one off here this afternoon!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="finis"> +THE END +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<HR> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHARLES ALDEN SELTZER'S WESTERN NOVELS +</H3> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4> +THE WAY OF THE BUFFALO +</H4> + +<P> +Jim Cameron builds a railroad adjacent to Ballantine's property, even +though Ballantine threatens to kill him the day he runs it. +</P> + +<H4> +BRASS COMMANDMENTS +</H4> + +<P> +Stephen Lannon writes six commandments over six loaded cartridges set +out where the evil men who threaten him and the girl he loves, may see +them. +</P> + +<H4> +WEST! +</H4> + +<P> +When Josephine Hamilton went West to visit Betty, she met "Satan" +Lattimer, ruthless, handsome, fascinating, who taught her some things. +</P> + +<H4> +SQUARE DEAL SANDERSON +</H4> + +<P> +Square Deal Sanderson rode onto the Double A just as an innocent man +was about to be hanged and Mary Bransford was in danger of losing her +property. +</P> + +<H4> +"BEAU" RAND +</H4> + +<P> +Bristling with quick, decisive action, and absorbing in its love theme, +"Beau" Rand, mirrors the West of the hold-up days in remarkable fashion. +</P> + +<H4> +THE BOSS OF THE LAZY Y +</H4> + +<P> +Calumet Marston, daredevil, returns to his father's ranch to find it is +being run by a young woman who remains in charge until he accepts +sundry conditions. +</P> + +<H4> +"DRAG" HARLAN +</H4> + +<P> +Harlan establishes himself as the protector of Barbara Morgan and deals +out punishment to the girl's enemies through the lightning flash of +drawn guns. +</P> + +<H4> +THE TRAIL HORDE +</H4> + +<P> +How Kane Lawler fought the powerful interests that were trying to crush +him and Ruth Hamlin, the woman he loved, makes intensely interesting +reading. +</P> + +<H4> +THE RANCHMAN +</H4> + +<P> +The story of a two-fisted product of the west, pitted against a +rascally spoilsman, who sought to get control of Marion Harlan and her +ranch. +</P> + +<H4> +"FIREBRAND" TREVISON +</H4> + +<P> +The encroachment of the railroad brought Rosalind Benham—and also +results in a clash between Corrigan and "Firebrand" that ends when the +better man wins. +</P> + +<H4> +THE RANGE BOSS +</H4> + +<P> +Ruth Harkness comes West to the ranch her uncle left her. Rex +Randerson, her range boss, rescues her from a mired buckboard, and is +in love with her from that moment on. +</P> + +<H4> +THE VENGEANCE OF JEFFERSON GAWNE +</H4> + +<P> +A story of the Southwest that tells how the law came to a cow-town, +dominated by a cattle thief. There is a wonderful girl too, who wins +the love of Jefferson Gawne. +</P> + +<BR> + +<H4 ALIGN="center"> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK +</H4> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Kid Scanlan, by H. C. 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Witwer + +Release Date: August 22, 2009 [EBook #29764] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KID SCANLAN *** + + + + +Produced by Al Haines + + + + + + + + + + +KID SCANLAN + + +BY + +H. C. WITWER + + +AUTHOR OF + +THE LEATHER PUSHERS, FIGHTING BLOOD, ETC. + + + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP + +PUBLISHERS + +NEW YORK + + + + +Copyright, 1920, + +BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY + +(INCORPORATED) + + + + +DEDICATED TO + +ALLAN HENRY WITWER + + MY SIX-YEAR-OLD DESCENDANT + WHO WEEPS BITTERLY WHEN + I READ MY YARNS ALOUD + TO HIS PATIENT + MOTHER + +H. C. W. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + + I. LAY OFF MACDUFF + II. EAST LYNCH + III. PLEASURE ISLAND + IV. LEND ME YOUR EARS + V. "EXIT, LAUGHING" + VI. THE UNHAPPY MEDIUM + VII. LIFE IS REEL! + VIII. HOSPITAL STUFF + + + + +KID SCANLAN + + +CHAPTER I + +LAY OFF, MACDUFF! + +Brains is great things to have, and many's the time I've wished I had a +set of 'em in _my_ head instead of just plain bone! Still they's a lot +of guys which has gone through life like a yegg goes through a safe, +and taken everything out of it that wasn't nailed, with nothin' in +their head but hair! + +A college professor gets five thousand a year, a good lightweight will +grab that much a fight. A school teacher drags down fifteen a week, +and the guy that looks after the boilers in the school buildin' gets +thirty! + +Sweet cookie! + +So don't get discouraged if the pride of the family gets throwed out of +school because he thinks twice two is eighteen and geography is played +with nets. The chances is very bright that young Stupid will be +holdin' the steerin' wheel of his own Easy Eight when the other guys, +which won all the trick medals for ground and lofty learnin', will be +wonderin' why a good bookkeeper never gets more than twenty-five a +week. And then, if he feels he's _got_ to have brains around him, now +that he's grabbed the other half of the team--money--he can go downtown +and buy all the brains he wants for eighteen dollars a week! + +So if you're as shy on brains as a bald-headed man is of dandruff, and +what's more, you _know_ it, cheer up! Because you can bet the gas-bill +money that you got somethin' just as good. Some trick concealed about +you that'll keep you out of the bread line. The thing to do is to take +an inventory of yourself and find it! + +Look good--it's there somewheres! + +Kid Scanlan's was hangin' from his left shoulder, and it made him +enough dimes in five years to step out of the crowd and watch the +others scramble from the sidelines. It was just an ordinary arm, size +36, model A, lot 768, same as we all have--but inside of it the Kid had +a wallop that would make a six-inch shell look like a lover's caress! + +Inside of his head the Kid had nothin'! + +Scanlan went through the welterweight division about like the Marines +went through Belleau Wood, and, finally, the only thing that stood +between him and the title was a guy called One-Punch Ross--the +champion. They agreed to fight until nature stopped the quarrel, at +Goldfield, Nev. They's two things I'll never forget as long as I pay +the premiums on my insurance policy, and they are the first and second +rounds of that fight. That's as far as the thing went, just two short +frames, but more real scrappin' was had in them few minutes than Europe +will see if Ireland busts loose! Except that they was more principals, +the battle of the Marne would have looked like a chorus men's frolic +alongside of the Ross-Scanlan melee. They went at each other like +peeved wildcats and the bell at the end of the first round only seemed +to annoy 'em--they had to be jimmied apart. Ross opened the second +round by knockin' Scanlan through the ropes into the ten-dollar boxes, +but the Kid was back and in there tryin' again before the referee could +find the body to start a count. After beatin' the champ from pillar to +post and hittin' him with everything but the bucket, the Kid rocks him +to sleep with a left swing to the jaw, just before the gong. + +The crowd went crazy. I went in the hole for five thousand bucks and +the Kid went in the movies! + +I had been handlin' Ross before that battle, but after it I wouldn't +have buried him! This guy was a ex-champion then, and I don't want no +ex-nothin' around _me_--unless it's a bill. + +Right after that scrap, Scanlan sent for me and made me a proposition +to look after his affairs for the followin' three years, and the only +time I lost in acceptin' it was caused by the ink runnin' out of my +fountain pen when I was signin' the contract. In them days I had a rep +for bein' able to get the money for my athletes that would make Shylock +look like a free spender. Every time one of _my_ boys performed for +the edification of the mob, we got a elegant deposit before we put a +pen to the articles and we got the balance of the dough before we +pulled on a glove. I never left nothin' to chance or the other guy. +That's what beat Napoleon and all them birds! Of course, they was +several people here and there throughout the country which was more +popular than I was on that account, but which would _you_ rather, have, +three cheers or three bucks? + +Well, that's the way _I_ figured! + +About a month after Scanlan become my only visible means of support, I +signed him up for ten rounds with a bird which said, "What d'ye want, +hey?" when you called him Hurricane Harris, and the next day a guy +comes in to see me in the little trick office I had staked myself to on +Broadway. When he rapped on the door I got up on a chair and took a +flash at him over the transom and seein' he looked like ready money, I +let him come in. He claims his name is Edward R. Potts and that so far +he's president of the Maudlin Moving Picture Company. + +"I am here," he says, "to offer you a chance to make twenty thousand +dollars. Do you want it?" + +"Who _give_ you the horse?" I asks him, playin' safe. "I got to know +where this tip come from!" + +"Horse?" he mutters, lookin' surprised. "I know nothing of horses!" + +"Well," I tells him, "I ain't exactly a liveryman myself, but before I +put any of Kid Scanlan's hard-earned money on one of them equines, I +got to know more about the race than you've spilled so far! What did +the trainer say?" + +He was a fat, middle-aged hick that would soon be old, and he wears +half a pair of glasses over one eye. He aims the thing at me and +smiles. + +"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're talking about!" he says. +"But I fancy it's a pun of some sort! Very well, then, what _did_ the +trainer say?" + +I walked over and laid my arm on his shoulder. + +"Are you endeavorin' to spoof me?" I asks him sternly. "Or have you +got me confused with Abe Levy, the vaudeville agent? Either way you're +losin' time! I don't care for your stuff myself, and if that's your +act, I wouldn't give you a week-end at a movie house!" + +He takes off the trick eye-glass and begins to clean it with a +handkerchief. + +"My dear fellow!" he says. "It is plain that you do not understand the +nature of my proposal. I wish to engage the services of Kid Scanlan, +the present incumbent of the welterweight title. We want to make a +five-reel feature, based on his rise to the championship. I am +prepared to offer you first class transportation to our mammoth studios +at Film City, Cal.; and twenty thousand dollars when the picture is +completed! What do you say?" + +"Have a cigar!" I says, when I get my breath. I throwed a handful of +'em in his lap and give the water cooler a play. + +"No, thanks!" he says, layin' 'em on the desk. "I never smoke." + +"Well," I tells him, "I ain't got a thing to drink in the place, you +gotta be careful here, y'know! But to get back to the movie thing, +what does the Kid have to do for the twenty thousand fish?" + +He takes a long piece of paper from his pocket and lays it down in +front of me. It looked like a chattel mortgage on Mexico, and what +paragraphs didn't commence with "to wit," started off with "do hereby." + +"All that Mr. Scanlan has to do," he explains, "will be told him by our +director at the studios, who will produce the picture. His name is Mr. +Salvatore Genaro. Kindly sign where the cross is marked!" + +"Wait!" I says. "We can't take a railroad ride like that for twenty +thousand, we got to have twenty-five and--" + +"All right!" he butts in. "Sign only on the first line!" + +"Thirty thousand, I meant to say!" I tells him, "because--" + +"Certainly," he cuts me off, handin' over his fountain pen. "Don't use +initials, sign your full name!" + +I signed it. + +"How do I know we get this money?" I asks him. + +"Aha!" he answers. "How do we know that the dawn will come? My +company is worth a million dollars, old chap, and that contract you +have is as good as the money! Be at my office at two this afternoon +and I will give you the tickets. _Adios_ until then!" + +And he blows out of the office. + +I closed down the desk, went outside and climbed into my Foolish Four. +In an hour I was up to the trainin' camp near Rye where Kid Scanlan was +preparin' for his collision with Hurricane Harris. Scanlan is trainin' +for the quarrel by playin' seven up with the room clerk from the Beach +Hotel, and when I bust in the door he takes a look, throws the cards on +the floor and makes a pass at his little pal so's I'll think he's a new +sparrin' partner. I pulled him off and dragged him to one side. + +"How would you like to go in the movies?" I says. + +"Nothin' doin'!" the Kid tells me. "They make my eyes sore!" + +"I don't mean watch 'em!" I explains. "I mean act in 'em! We're goin' +out to the well known Coast this afternoon and you're gonna be a movie +hero for five reels and thirty thousand bucks!" + +"We don't fight Harris?" asks the Kid. + +"No!" I says. "What d'ye mean _fight_! Leave that stuff for the +roughnecks, we're actors now!" + + +We got out to Film City at the end of the week and while there wasn't +no brass band to meet us at the station, there was a sad-lookin' guy +with one of them buckboard things and what at one time was probably a +horse. I never seen such a gloomy lookin' layout in my life; they +reminded me of a rainy Sunday in Philadelphia. The driver comes up to +us and, after takin' a long and searchin' look, says, + +"Which one of you fellers is the pugeylist?" + +"Pugilist?" I says. "What d'ye mean pugilist? We're the new leadin' +men for the stock company here. Pugilist! Ha! Ha! How John Drew +will laugh when I tell him that!" + +He takes a piece of paper from his pocket and reads it. + +"I'm lookin' for Kid Scanlan and Johnny Green," he announces. "One of +'em's supposed to be the welterweight champion, but I doubt it! I +never seen him fight!" + +"Well," I says, "you got a good chance to try for the title, bo, if you +ain't more respectful! I'm Mr. Green and that's Kid Scanlan, the +champ!" + +He looks at the Kid and kinda sneers. + +"All right!" he says. "Git aboard and I'll take you out to Mr. Genaro. +I'll tell you now, though, that if you ain't what you claim, you got to +walk back!" He takes a side glance at the Kid. "Champ, eh?" he +mutters. + +We climb in the buckboard and this guy turns to me and points the whip +at the Kid. + +"He don't look like no pugeylist to me," he goes on, like he's lookin' +for a argument, "let alone a champion! Still looks is deceivin' at +that. Take a crab, for instance--you'd never think from lookin' at it +that you could eat it, would you? No! Git up!" + +Git _up_ was right, because the animal this guy had suspended between +the shafts had laid right down on the ground outside the station, +whilst he was talkin' to us. The noble beast got gamely to its feet at +the word from Gloomy Gus, give a little shiver that rattled the harness +and then turned around to see what its master had drawed from the train +that mornin'. It took a good eyeful and kinda curled up its lip and +sneered at us, showin' its yellow teeth in a sarcastical grin. + +"Hold fast!" remarks Gloomy Gus. "It's rough country here and this +horse is about to do a piece of runnin'!" He takes off his belt and +whales that equine over what would a been the back on a regular horse. +"Step along!" he asks it. + +Well, if they had that ride at Coney Island, they'd have made a fortune +with it in one summer, because as soon as Old Dobbin realized he'd been +hit, he started for South Africa and tried to make it in six jumps! He +folded his long skinny ears back of his neck somewheres and just simply +give himself over to runnin'. We went up hills and down vales that +would have broke an automobile's heart, we took corners on one leg and +creeks in a jump and when I seen the Pacific Ocean loomin' up in the +offing I begin to pray that the thing couldn't swim! Gloomy Gus leans +over and yells in my ear, "Some horse, eh?" + +"Is that what it is?" I hollers back. + +"Well, he's tryin' all right. He's what you could call a runnin' +fool!" We shot past somethin' that was just a black blur for a minute +and then disappeared back in the dust. "What was that?" I yells. + +"Montana!" screams Gloomy Gus, "and--" + +"Ha! Ha!" roars the Kid, openin' his mouth for the first time. +"That's goin' a few! Let me know when we pass Oregon, I got a friend +there!" + +"Montana Bill!" explains Gloomy Gus, frownin' at the Kid. "That's the +only place you can get licker within five miles of Film City!" He +looks at the Kid again and mutters half to himself, "Champion, eh!" + +Then he yanks in the reins and we slow down to about a runaway's pace +right near what looks to be a World's Fair with a big wall around it +and an iron gate in the middle. We shot up to the entrance and the +horse calls it a day and stops, puffin' and blowin' like a fat +piano-mover. + +"Film City!" hollers Gloomy Gus. "Git out here and walk in. Mr. +Genaro's office is right back of the African Desert!" + +I thanked him for bringin' us in alive. He didn't say nothin' to me, +but as he was passin' in the gates I seen him lookin' after the Kid and +shakin' his head. "Champion, hey!" he mumbles. + +This Film City place would have made delerium tremens lay down and +quit. There was Indians, cowboys, cannibals, chorus girls, Japs, +sheriffs, train robbers, and--well, it looked like the place where they +assemble dime novels. A guy goes racin' past us on a horse with a lot +of maniacs, yellin' and shootin', tearin' after him and on the other +side a gang of laborers in tin hats and short skirts is havin' a battle +royal with swords. Three feet from where we're standin' a house is +burnin' down and two guys is sluggin' each other on the roof. We walk +along a little further and run into a private conversation. Some guy +in a new dress suit is makin' love to a dame, while another fellow +stands in front of them and says at the top of his voice, "Remember +now, you're madly in love with her, but father detests the sight of +your face. Ready--hey, camera--all right--wait a minute, wait a +minute, don't wrestle with her, embrace her, will you, _em_brace her!" + +Kid Scanlan takes this all in with his eyes poppin' out of his head and +his mouth as open as a stuss game. + +"Some joint, eh?" he says to me. "This is what I call a _regular_ +cabaret! See if we can get a table near the front!" + +A lot of swell-lookin' dames comes in--well, of course it _was_ some +warm out there, but even at that they was takin' an awful chance on +gettin' pneumonia, and files out of a house on the left and starts to +dance and I had to drag the Kid away bodily. We duck through a side +street, and every time we turn around some guy with a camera yells for +us to get out of the way, but finally we wind up at Mr. Genaro's +office. He ain't in, but a guy that was tells us Genaro's makin' a +picture of Richard the Third, over behind the Street Scene in Tokio. +We breezed over there and we found him. + +Genaro is in the middle of what looks like the chorus of a burlesque +show, only the men is wearin' tights instead of the women. I picked +him out right away because he was the first guy I had seen in the place +in citizen's clothes, outside of the guys with the kodaks. He was +little and fat, lookin' more like a human plum puddin' than anything +else. When we had worked our way through the mob, we saw that he was +shakin' his fist at 'em and bawlin' 'em out. + +"Are you Mr. Genaro?" I asks him. + +"Joosta wait, joosta wait!" he hollers over his shoulder without even +lookin' around. "I'm a ver' busy joosta now! Writa me the letta!" + +"Where d'ye get that stuff?" I yells back, gettin' sore. "D'ye know +who we are?" + +I seen the rest of them gigglin', and Genaro dances around and throws +up his hands. + +"Aha!" he screams, pullin' at his hair. "You maka me crazy! What's a +mat--what you want? Queek, don't make me wait!" + +The Kid growls at him and whispers in my ear, + +"Will I bounce him?" + +"Not yet!" I tells him. "I'm Mr. Green," I says to Genaro, "and this +is Kid Scanlan, welterweight champion of the world, and if you pull any +more of that joosta wait stuff, you'll be able to say you fought him!" + +He drops his hands and smiles. + +"Excuse, please!" he says. "I maka mistake!" he grabs hold of his head +again and groans, "Gotta bunch bonehead here this morning," he goes on, +noddin' to 'em. "Driva me crazy! Shakespeare he see these feller play +Reechard, he joomp out of he'sa grave!" He swings around at them all +of a sudden and makes a face at 'em, "Broadaway star, eh?" he snarls. +"Bah! You maka me seek! Go away for one, two hour. I senda for +you--you all what you calla the bunk!" + +On the level I thought he was gonna bite 'em! + +The merry villagers scatter, and Genaro turns around to us and wipes +his face with a red silk handkerchief. + +"You knowa the piece?" he asks us. "Reechard the Third, Shakespeare?" + +"Not quite!" I says. "What is he--a local scrapper?" + +The Kid butts in and shoves me away. + +"Don't mind this guy," he says to Genaro. "He's nothin' but a igrant +roughneck! _I_ got you right away. I remember in this Richard the +Third thing--they's a big battle in the last act and Dick tells a +gunman by the name of MacDuff to lay off him or he'll knock him for a +goal!" + +"Not lay off!" says Genaro, smiling "Lay on! Lay on, MacDuff!" + +"Yeh?" inquires the Kid. "I thought it was lay off. I only seen the +frolic once. I took off a member of Dick's gang at the Grand Oprey +house, when I was broke in Trenton." + +"Nex' week we start _your_ picture," says Genaro to the Kid. "Mr. Van +Aylstyne he'sa write scenario now. This gonna be great for +you--magnificent! He'sa give you everything! Firsta reel you fall off +a cliff!" + +"Who, me?" hollers the Kid, + +"Si!" smiles Genaro. "Bada man wanna feex you, so you no fighta the +champ! You getta the beeg idea?" + +"What's next?" asks the Kid, frownin'. + +"Ah!" pipes Genaro, rollin' his eyes at the sky. "We giva you the +whole picture! Second reel you get run over by train--fasta mail! You +see? So you no fighta the champ!" + +The Kid looks at me and grabs my arm. + +"This guy's a maniac!" he hollers. "Did you get that railroad thing? +He--" + +Genaro goes right on like he don't hear him. + +"Thirda reel!" he says. "Thirda reel you get hit by two automobiles, +this bada feller try to feex you so you no fighta the champ!" + +"Wait!" I butts in. "You must--" + +"But fiftha reel--aaah!" Genaro don't pay no attention to me, but +kisses his hand at a tree. "Fiftha reel," he says, "she'sa great! Get +everybody excite! You get throw from sheep in ocean, fella shoot at +you when you try sweem, bada fella come along in motorboat, he'sa run +you down! Then you swim five, six, seven mile to land and there dozen +feller beat you with club--so you no fighta the champ!" + +The Kid has sunk down on a chair and he's fannin' himself. His face +was the color of skim milk. + +"What you think?" asks Genaro. "She's a maka fine picture, what?" + +"Great!" I says. "If that guy that wants to fix the Kid so he no +fighta the champ loses out, they can't say he wasn't tryin' anyhow! +Why don't you throw in another reel, showin' the lions devourin' the +Kid--so he no fighta the champ?" + +"That's a good!" Genaro shakes his head. "I spika to Van Aylstyne!" + +He took us up to his office and when we get inside the door they's a +dame sittin' there which would make Venus look like a small-town +soubrette. She looked like these other movie queens would like to! +Whilst we're givin' her the up and down, she smiles at the Kid and he +immediately drops his hat on the floor and knocks over a inkwell. + +"Miss Vincent," says Genaro, "this Mr. Kid Scanlan. He'sa work with +you nex' week. This Mr. Green, hisa fr'en'." + +We shake hands all around and the Kid elbows me to one side. + +"Where are you goin' this afternoon?" he asks the dame. "Anywheres?" + +Genaro raps on the desk. + +"Joosta one minoote!" he calls out. "Mr. Kid Scanlan, I would like--" + +"Joosta wait!" pipes the Kid. "Writa me the letta! I'm ver' busy +joosta now!" He puts one hand on the mantelpiece and drapes himself in +front of the dame. "And you haven't been here long, eh?" he says. + +Genaro frowns for a minute and then he grins and winks at me. + +"Miss Vincent!" he butts in. "You show Mr. Kid Scanlan all around this +afternoon, what? Explain him everything about nex' week we maka his +picture. What you think, no?" + +"Yes!" pipes the Kid grabbin' his hat. "I never been nowheres. Lets +go!" + +The dame smiles some more, and, well, Scanlan must have been born with +a horseshoe in each hand because she takes his arm and they blow. + +Just as they were goin' out the door, in comes Gloomy Gus which brought +us up from the station. He looks at the Kid and this dame goin' out +and he sneers after 'em. + +"Champion!" he mutters, curlin' his lip. "Huh!" + +The next mornin' we meet this guy Van Aylstyne who doped out the stuff +so the Kid "no fighta the champ!" He's a tall, slim, gentle-lookin' +bird, all dressed in white like a Queen of the May or somethin' and +after hearin' him talk I figured my first guess was about right. We +also got to know Edmund De Vronde, one of the leadin' men and the shop +girls' delight, and him and Van Aylstyne were both members of the same +lodge. Whilst we're standin' there talkin' to Genaro, who I found out +was the headkeeper or somethin', along comes Miss Vincent in one of +them trick autos that has a seat for two thin people and a gasoline +tank. Only, you don't sit in 'em, you just stoop, with your knees +jammed up against your chin. She drives this thing right up and stops +where we're standin'. If she ever looked any better, she'd have fell +for herself! + +"I'm going to Long Beach," she sings out, "and I'm going to hit nothing +but the tops of the trees! Come along?" + +De Vronde, Van Aylstyne and the Kid left their marks at the same time, +but you know, my boy was welterweight champ and when that auto buzzed +away from there he went with it. + +"Ugh!" remarks De Vronde. "I loathe those creatures!" He dusts off +his sleeve where the Kid had grabbed it to toss him to one side. "The +fellow struck me!" he says indignantly. + +Van Aylstyne picks up his hat which had fell off in the struggle. + +"Thank Heavens," he tells the other guy, "we will soon be rid of him! +I'll have the script ready for Genaro to-morrow! I never saw such a +vicious assault!" + +They walked away, and I turns to Genaro who had stepped aside for a +minute. + +"Say!" I asks him. "Is this De Vronde guy worth anything to you?" + +"_Sapristi_!" he tells me, makin' a face. "I could keel him! He'sa +wan greata big what you call bunk! He'sa no good! He can't act, he +can do nothing. Joosta got nice face--that's all!" + +"Well," I says, "he won't have no nice face, if he don't lay off the +Kid! If Scanlan hears him make any cracks about him like he just did +now--well, he'll practically ruin him, that's all!" + +After a while the Kid and Miss Vincent comes back and she hurries away +to change her clothes because she's got to work in this Richard the +Third thing. The Kid is all covered with dirt and mud and his face is +all cut up from the flyin' pebbles and sand. + +"Say!" he says to me. "That's some dame, believe me! We passed +everything on the road from here to Long Beach and on the way back we +beat the Sante Fe in by a city block! Come on over and see her work; +she's gonna act in that Richard the Third thing!" + +We breezed over past the African Desert and there's the troupe all +gathered around a guy in his shirt sleeves, who's readin' 'em somethin' +out of a book. One of the camera guys tells me it's Mr. Duke, Genaro's +assistant. + +"A fine piece of Camembert he is, too!" says this guy. "He put me over +on this side to get the battle scene from an angle and tells me to +shoot the minute the melee starts in case I don't get his signal. One +of them dames fainted from the heat a minute ago and the rest of 'em go +rushin' around yellin' like a lot of nuts. Naturally I thought the +thing went in the picture and I took forty feet of it before he called +me off! He's gonna report me now and I'm liable to get the gate when +Genaro shows up! I'll _get_ the big stew, though,--watch me!" + +At this stage of the game, this Mr. Duke waves for us to come over. + +"Where's Mr. Genaro?" he wants to know. + +"Search me!" I tells him. "I just left him an hour or so ago and--" + +He hurls down the book and dances around like he's gonna throw a fit or +somethin'. + +"I been all over the place," he yells, "and I can't find him! I want +to get this exterior while the sun is right and there's no Richard or +no Genaro!" + +The Kid, who has been talkin' to Miss Vincent, comes over then and says, + +"What's all the excitement?" + +"Who are you?" asks Duke. + +"We're from New York," I butts in, "and--" + +"Well, sufferin' cats!" hollers Duke. "Why didn't you say so before? +One of you is the man I'm holdin' this picture for!" + +"Why, Genaro says," I begins, "that next week is--" + +"Never mind Genaro!" shrieks Duke. "He ain't here now and I'm +directing this picture! See that sun commencing to get dim? Which one +of you was sent on by Mr. Potts?" + +"This guy here!" I tells him, pointin' to the Kid. "I'm his manager." + +"Carries a manager, does he?" snorts Duke. "Well, run him in the +dressin' room there and get a costume on him. Hurry up, will you--look +at that sun!" + +We beat it on the run for the place he pointed out, and as we started +away I seen him throw out his chest and say to one of the dames, + +"_That's_ the way those stars should be handled all the time! Fussing +over them is a mistake; you must show them at once that no such thing +as temperament will be tolerated! Broadway star, eh? Well, you saw +how _I_ handled him!" + +I didn't quite make that stuff, but I felt that somethin' was wrong +somewheres. Genaro had told me the Kid's picture wasn't to be made for +a week, but we were gettin' thirty thousand for this stunt so I says to +the Kid, + +"Get in there and shed them clothes of yours and I'll beat it over to +the hotel and get your ring togs! They're gettin' ready to fix you so +you no fighta the champ!" + +I beat it back to the trick hotel and got the suitcase with the Kid's +gloves, shoes and trunks in it and it didn't take me five minutes to +get back, but that Duke guy is on my neck the minute he sees me. + +"Will you hurry up?" he hollers, pullin' a watch on me. "Look at that +sun!" + +"He'll be out in a minute now!" I says. "I got a guy in there helpin' +him dress." + +"He knows this stuff all right, doesn't he?" he asks me. "I understand +he's been doing nothing but the one line for years." + +"Knows it?" I laughs. "He's the world's champion; that's good enough, +ain't it?" + +"That's what they all say!" he sneers. "All I hope is that he ain't no +cheap ham! Look at that sun gettin' away from me!" + +While I'm tryin' to dope out what all these birds in tights and with +feathers in their hats has got to do with "How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title," Duke grabs my arm. + +"Drag that fellow out of the dressin' room," he says, "and tell him he +enters from the second entrance where those trees are. He goes right +through the Tower scene--he knows it by heart, I guess. I'll be right +up on that platform there directing and that's where he wants to +face--not the camera!" + +Well, I went into the dressin' room and the Kid is ready. He's got on +a pair of eight ounce gloves, red silk trunks and ring shoes. + +"What do I pull now?" he asks me. + +"Just walk right out from between them trees," I says, "and they'll tip +you off to the rest." + +We sneaked around the scene from the back and stood behind the tree +which Duke had pointed out. A stage hand or somethin' who seemed to be +sufferin' from hysterics told us not to let Duke see us till we entered +the scene, because it was considered bad luck to walk before the camera +first. + +"Clear!" we hear Duke yellin', and then he blows a whistle. "Hey, move +faster there, you extra people, a little ginger! Billy, face center, +can't you! Now, Miss Vincent, register fear--that's it, great! All +right, Richard!" + +"That's you!" pipes the stage hand, and on walks the Kid. He stands in +the middle of the scene like he done many a time in the newspaper +offices back home and strikes a fightin' pose. + +A couple of women shrieks and runs back of the trees hidin' their faces +and Miss Vincent falls in a chair and laughs herself sick. To say the +Kid created a sensation would be puttin' it mild--he was a riot! The +rest of the bunch howls out loud, holdin' their sides and staggerin' up +against each other, and the stage hands rolled around the floor. But +the guy that was runnin' the thing, this Duke person, almost faints, +and then he gets red in the face and jumps down off the platform. + +"What do you mean?" he screams at the Kid. "What do you mean by coming +out before these ladies and gentlemen in that garb? How dare you? Is +that your interpretation of Richard the Third? Have you been drinking +or what?" + +"What's the matter, pal?" asks the Kid, lookin' surprised. "I got to +wear _somethin'_, don't I?" + +Off goes the bunch howlin' again. + +"If this is a joke, sir," yells Duke, "it will be a mighty costly one +for you!" + +This De Vronde has been standin' on the side lookin' on and the Kid, +seein' Miss Vincent, waves a glove at her. She waves back holdin' her +side and smiles. + +"Haw! Haw! Haw!" roars this De Vronde guy. "How droll!" + +The Kid is over to him in two steps. He's seen that everybody is +givin' him the laugh and he realizes he's in wrong somehow, but the +thing has him puzzled. + +"Where d'ye get that 'haw, haw' stuff?" he snarls, stickin' his chin +out in front of De Vronde. + +"Why, you ignorant ass!" sneers De Vronde, out loud, so's Miss Vincent +can hear him. "If you had any brains you'd know!" + +"I don't need no brains!" snaps the Kid, settin' himself. "I got +_this_!" + +And he drops De Vronde with a right hook to the jaw! + +"Boys!" screams Duke, pointin' to the Kid. "Throw that ruffian out!" + +A couple of big huskies makes a dash for the Kid, and I figured I might +as well get in the thing now as later, so I tripped one as he was goin' +past and the Kid bounces the other with a short left. De Vronde jumps +up and hits the Kid over the head with a cane, while Miss Vincent +screams and hollers "Coward!" Then a bunch of supers comes runnin' in +from the back just as the Kid puts De Vronde down for keeps, and in a +minute everybody was in there tryin'. + +Everybody but one guy, and he was turnin' the crank of his camera like +he was gettin' paid by the number of revolutions the thing made. + +While it lasted, it was some fracas, as we say at the studio. It +certainly was a scream to see them guys, all dressed up to play the +life out of Richard the Third, fallin' all over each other to get out +of the way of the Kid's arms and bein' held back by the jam behind 'em. +After the Kid has beat most of them up and I have took care of a few +myself, a whistle blows and they all fall back--and in rushes Genaro. + +"Sapristi!" he hollers. "What you mean eh? What you people do with my +Reechard?" + +Duke tries to see him out of his one good eye. + +"This scoundrel," he pipes, pointin' to the Kid, "came out here to play +Richard the Third costumed like that!" + +Genaro looks from me to the Kid and grabs his head. + +"What?" he yells. "That feller want to play Reechard? Ho, ho! You +maka me laugh! You're crazy lika the heat! That's what you call +fighting champion of the world! He'sa Mr. Kid Scanlan. We maka hisa +picture nex' week!" + +Duke gives a yell and falls in a chair. + +I pulls on my coat and wipes my face with a handkerchief. + +"Yes," I says, "and they just tried to fix him so he no fighta the +champ!" + +"Zowie!" pipes Duke, sprawled out in the chair, "I thought he was +Roberts, the man we wired to come on from Boston! What in the name of +Charlie Chaplin will we do now? Potts will be here to-morrow to see +this picture and you know what it means, if it isn't made!" + +The Kid is over talkin' to Miss Vincent and Genaro calls him over. + +"_Viola_!" he tells him. "You see what you do? You spoil the greata +picture, the actor, the everything! To-morrow Mr. Potts he'sa come +here. 'Where's a Reechard the Third, Genaro?' he'sa wanna know. I +tella him--then, good-by everybody!" + +"Everything would have been O.K.," says the Kid, pointin' to De Vronde +who's got a couple of dames workin' over him with smellin' salts. +"Everything would have been O.K. at that, if Stupid over there hadn't +gimme the haw, haw!" + +We go back to the dressing-room and the Kid gets on his clothes. That +night, findin' that we was as welcome in Film City as smallpox, we went +over to Frisco and saw the town. + +When we come back the next mornin' and breeze in the gates, the first +thing we see is Gloomy Gus that drove us up from the station. + +"Say!" he sings out. "You fellers are gonna get it good! The boss is +here." + +"Yeh?" says the Kid. "Where's Miss Vincent?" + +"Talkin' to the boss!" he answers. "I don't believe you're no fighter, +either!" + +"Where was you yesterday?" I asks him. + +"Mind yer own business!" he snaps. He gives the Kid the up and down. +"Champion of the world!" he sneers. "Huh!" + +"Go 'way!" the Kid warns him. "I got enough work yesterday!" + +"I think you're a big bluff!" persists the gloomy guy, puttin' up his +hands and circlin' around the Kid. "Come on and fight or acknowledge +yore master!" + +He makes a pass at the Kid and the Kid steps inside of it and drops +him, just as a big auto comes roarin' past and stops. Out hops friend +Potts, the guy that practically give us our start in the movies. In +other words, the thirty thousand dollar kid! + +"Well, well!" he pipes, lookin' at the gloomy guy on the turf and then +at us. "What does this mean, sir? Are you trying to annihilate all my +employees? Do you know you cost me a small fortune yesterday by +ruining that Richard the Third picture?" + +"I'm sorry, boss," the Kid tells him, proddin' Gloomy Gus carelessly +with his foot, "but all your hired men jumped at me at once and a guy +has to protect himself, don't he?" + +"Nonsense!" grunts Potts. "You assaulted Mr. De Vronde and temporarily +disabled several of my best people! I had made all arrangements for +the release of that Shakespeare picture in two days, and you have put +me in a terrible hole!" + +"Now, listen," I butts in, "I tried to--" + +"Not a word!" he cuts me off, wavin' his hands. "One of the camera +men, another infernal idiot, kept turning the crank while this +disgraceful brawl was at its height and I have proof of your villainy +on film! I'll use it as a basis to sever my contract with you and--" + +"Slow up!" I says. "If you lay down on the thirty thousand iron men, +I'll pull a suit on you!" + +Along comes a guy and touches Potts on the arm. + +"They're waiting for you in the projecting room," he says. + +"Come with me--both of you!" barks Potts, "and see for yourself the +damage you caused!" + +We followed him around to a little dark room with three or four chairs +in it and a sheet on one wall. De Vronde, Miss Vincent, Duke and +Genaro are there waitin' for us. + +Well, they start to show the picture, and everything is all right up to +the time the Kid busted into the drama. Now I hadn't seen nothin' out +of the way at the time it actually happened, but here in this little +room it was a riot when they showed it on the sheet. You could see +Scanlan wallop De Vronde and then in another second the massacre is on +full blast! + +On the level, it was the funniest thing I'd seen in a long time. A guy +with lockjaw would have to laugh at it. Here was the Kid knockin' 'em +cold as fast as they come on, with their little trick hats and the pink +silk tights. There was a pile of Shakespeare actors a foot deep all +around him as far as you could see. Potts is laughin' louder than +anybody in the place, and when they finally shut the thing off he slaps +the Kid on the back. + +"Great!" he hollers. "Wonderful! Who directed that?" + +"_I_ did!" pipes Duke, throwin' out his chest. "Some picture, eh?" + +"Joosta one minoote!" says Genaro, wakin' up, "joosta one minoote! It +was under my supervision, Mr. Potts! I feexa the--" + +"Cut that strip of film off!" Potts interrupts, "and take four more +reels based on the same idea! Get somebody to write a scenario around +a fighter busting into the drama and playing Shakespeare! It's never +been done, and if the rest of it is as funny as that it will be a +knockout!" + +"But Reechard!" says Genaro. "What of heem?" + +"Drop it!" snaps Potts. "Everybody get to work on this and I'll stay +here till it's finished!" + +I looked around and pipe the Kid--over talkin' to Miss Vincent, of +course. + +"Say!" he wants to know. "Do we go to Oakland in that rabbit-chaser of +yours this afternoon, Miss Vincent?" + +"Sir!" butts in De Vronde. "This lady and I are conversing!" + +"Now listen, Cutey!" smiles the Kid. "You know what happened +yesterday, don't you?" + +De Vronde turns pale and Miss Vincent giggles. + +"Of course we're going to Oakland!" she laughs. "I'm going to be your +leading woman next week in 'How Kid Scanlan Won the Title.'" + +"Suits me!" says the Kid. "But say, on the level now--I'm there +forty-seven ways on that Shakespeare thing, ain't I?" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +EAST LYNCH + +Success has ruined more guys than failure ever will. It's like a Santa +Cruz rum milk punch on an empty stomach--there's very few people can +stand it. Many a guy that's a regular fellow at a hundred a month, +becomes a boob at a hundred a week. What beat Napoleon, Caesar and +Nero--failure? No, success! Give the thing the once over some time +and you'll see that I'm right. + +Success is the large evenin' with the boys at the lodge and failure is +the mornin' after. As a matter of fact, they're twins. Often you can +be a success without knowin' it, so if you been a failure all your life +accordin' to your own dope, cheer up. But when you get up to the top +where you can look down at all these other guys tryin' to sidestep the +banana peels of life and climb up with you, knock off thinkin' what a +big guy you are for a minute and give ten minutes to thinkin' what a +tough time you had gettin' there. Give five minutes more to ruminatin' +on how long the mob remembers a loser and you'll find it the best +sixteen minutes you ever spent in your life. + +In these days when the world is just a great big baby yellin' for a new +toy every second, any simp can beat his way to the top. The real stunt +is _stayin' there_ after you arrive! + +Kid Scanlan was a good sample of that. When the Kid was fightin' for +bean money and the exercise, he never spent nothin' but the evenin' and +very little of that. He didn't know whether booze was a drink or a +liniment and the only ladies he was bothered about was his mother. But +when he knocked out One-Punch Ross for the title and eased himself into +the movies, it was all different. He begin to spend money like a +vice-investigating committee, knock around with bartenders and give in +to all the strange desires that hits a guy with his health and a +bankroll. I stood by and cheered for a while until he crashes in love +with this movie queen, Miss Vincent, that got more money a start than +the Kid did in a season and more letters from well wishin' males than a +newly elected mayor. Then I stepped in and saved the Kid just before +he become a total loss. + +I was standin' by the African Desert one day watchin' them take a +picture called "Rapacious Rupert's Revenge," when the Kid comes over +and calls me aside. Since he had become a actor he had gave himself up +to dressin' in panama hats, Palm Beach suits and white shoes. He +reminded me of the handsome young lieutenant in a musical comedy. +Every time I seen him in that outfit I expected to hear him burst into +some song like, "All hail, the Queen comes thither!" Know what I mean? + +Well, havin' lured me away under the shade of some palm trees, the Kid +tells me he's goin' over to Frisco on a little shoppin' expedition, and +he wants me to come with him. I says I can't drink a thing because I +have had a terrible headache since the night before when him and me and +some camera men went to Montana Bill's and toyed with the illegal brew +for a few hours. + +"That last round," I says, "which I'll always remember because it come +to six eighty-five, was what ruined me. The bartender must have gone +crazy and put booze in them cocktails, because I've had that headache +ever since!" + +"It ain't the cocktails that give you the headache," the Kid tells me, +"it was the check. And you must have had a bun on before that, anyhow, +because you paid it! But that's got nothin' to do with this here trip +to Frisco. I'm not goin' to stop anywheres for no powders. I'm gonna +get somethin' I've needed for a long time!" + +"What is it," I asks him, "a clean collar?" + +"I wish you'd save that comedy for some rainy Sunday," he says; "that +stuff of yours is about as funny as a broken arm! Since I been out +here with these swell actors, I been changin' my clothes so often that +I'll bet my body thinks I'm kiddin' it. Stop knockin' and come over to +Frisco with me and--" + +I don't know what else he was goin' to say, because just at that minute +a Kansas cyclone on wheels come between us and I come to in a ditch +about five feet from where the Kid is tryin' to see can he really stand +on his head. When I had picked up enough ambition to get to my feet, I +went over and jacked up the Kid. About half a mile up the road the +thing which had attacked us is turnin' around. + +"Run for your life!" I yells to the Kid. "It's comin' back!" + +Before we could pick our hidin' places, the thing has drawed up in +front of us and we see it's one of them trick autos known to the trade +as racin' cars. I recognized it right away as belongin' to Miss +Vincent. The owner was in the car and beside her was Edmund De Vronde, +the shop-girls' delight. The Kid and De Vronde had took to each other +from the minute they first met like a ferret does to a rat. It was a +case of hate at first sight. So you can figure that this little +incident did nothin' to cement the friendship. Miss Vincent leaps out +of the thing and comes runnin' over to us. + +"Good Heavens!" she says. "You're not hurt, are you?" + +She's lookin' right past me and at the Kid like it made little or no +difference whether _I_ was damaged or not. + +The Kid throws half an acre of California out of his collar and removes +a few pebbles and a cigar butt from his ear. + +"No!" he growls, with a sarcastical smile. "Was they many killed?" + +She takes out a little trick silk handkerchief and wipes off his face +with it. + +"I meant to step on the foot brake," she explains, "and I must have +stepped on the gas by mistake!" + +"You must have stepped on the dynamite," I butts in, "because it blowed +me into the ditch!" + +The Kid shakes a bucket or so of sand out of his hair and looks over at +the car where De Vronde is examin' us through a pair of cheaters and +enjoyin' himself scandalously. + +"I see you got Foolish with you," says the Kid to Miss Vincent. +"What's the matter--are you off me now?" + +She smiles and wipes some mud off the Kid's collar. + +"Why, no," she tells him. "Genaro is putting on 'The Escapes of Eva' +this morning and I'm playing the lead opposite Mr. De Vronde. I +happened to pick him up on the road and I'm bringing him in, that's +all." + +"Yeh?" says the Kid, still lookin' over at the car. "What are _you_ +laughin' at, Stupid?" he snarls suddenly at De Vronde. + +De Vronde give a shiver and the glasses fell off in the bottom of the +car. While he was stoopin' down to look for 'em, the Kid turns to Miss +Vincent. + +"I only wish he had been drivin' the thing," he says, "because then I'd +have some excuse for bouncin' him! On the level, now," he goes on, +winkin' at her, "he _was_ drivin' the thing, wasn't he?" + +"Oh, no!" she answers. "I was at the wheel." + +The Kid frowns and thinks for a minute. + +"Well," he says finally, takin' another look at De Vronde, "ain't the +brakes or somethin' where he was sittin'?" + +"No!" she tells him, grabbin' him by the arm. "Please don't lose your +head now and start a fuss! I'm awfully sorry this happened, but as +long as neither of you were hurt and--" + +"It didn't do me no _good_, that's a cinch!" butts in the Kid, with a +meanin' look at his spoiled scenery. He walks over to the car and +glares up at De Vronde. "Hey!" he snarls. "What d'ye mean by bein' in +a automobile that runs over me, eh?" + +De Vronde moves as far over as the seat will let him, and then falls +back on prayer. + +"I must decline to enter any controversy with you," he pipes, after a +minute. "You were standing in the right of way and--" + +The Kid grins and holds up his hand. His face has lighted all up and +he's lickin' his lips like he always did in the ring when he seen the +other guy was pickin' out a place to fall. He's walked around to where +De Vronde had been sittin' and piped a little handle stickin' up. + +"What's this?" he calls to Miss Vincent, who's climbin' in the other +side. + +"That's just the oil pump," she says. + +The Kid suddenly reaches up, grabs De Vronde by the arm and jerks him +out of the car. + +"You big stiff!" he roars. "Why didn't you pump that oil, hey? If you +had done that, the thing wouldn't have hit us! I knowed it was all +your fault--you deliberately laid off that pump, hopin' we'd get +killed!" + +With that he starts an uppercut from the ground, but I yanked him away +just as De Vronde murmurs, "Safety first!" and takes a dive. Miss +Vincent gets out and gives me a hand with the Kid, and De Vronde sits +up and menaces us with his cane. + +"That isn't a bit nice!" Miss Vincent frowns at the Kid. "That's +ruffianly! You never should have struck him!" + +"I didn't hit him!" yells the Kid. "The big tramp quit! If I had hit +him he wouldn't be gettin' up." + +He starts over again, but I held him until she has climbed into the car +with De Vronde and they shoot up the road. Just before they +disappeared, De Vronde turns around in the seat and shakes his finger +at us. + +"Only the presence of the lady," he calls, "saves you from my wrath!" + +"Come on!" says the Kid, grabbin' my arm. "Let's get the next train +for Frisco, before I run after that guy and flatten him! Believe me," +he goes on, lookin' up the road after the car, "I'll get that bird +before the day is over if I have to bust a leg!" + +And that's just what he did--both! + +All the way over in the train I tried to work the third degree on the +Kid to find out what he was goin' to buy, but there was nothin' doin'. +He stalled me off until we pull into the town and then he takes me to a +street that was so far from the railroad station I come near castin' a +shoe on the way over. About half way down this boulevard there's a +garage and the Kid stops in front of it. + +"Wait here!" he tells me. "And don't let nobody give you no babies to +mind. I'll be right out!" + +He slips inside and I'm lookin' the joint over when a big sign catches +my eye. I took one good flash at the thing, and then I starts right in +after the Kid. A friend of mine in New York had gone into a place with +a sign on it like that one time and made a purchase. Six months later +when he come out of the hospital, he claimed the bare smell of gasoline +made him faint Here's what it said on that sign, + + J. MARKOWITZ + + USED AND NEARLY NEW AUTOS + + FOR SALE + + +It was kinda dark inside and it takes me a minute to get my bearin's, +but finally I see the Kid and a snappy dressed guy standin' in front of +what I at first thought was a Pullman sleeper. When I get a close up, +though, I find it's only a tourin' car. It was the biggest automobile +I ever seen in my life; a sightseein' bus would have looked like a +runabout alongside of it. There was one there and it did! The thing +hadn't been painted since the _Maine_ was blowed up, and you could see +the guy that had been keepin' it was fond of the open air, because +there was samples of mud from probably all over the world on it. + +"You could believe it, you're gettin' it a practically brand new car!" +the young feller is tellin' the Kid. "The shoes are in A number one +condition--all they need is now vulcanizin', and Oi!--how that car +could travel!" + +"Just a minute!" I butts in. "Before you make this sale, I want to +speak to my friend here." + +Both him and the Kid glares at me, and the Kid pushes me aside. + +"Lay off!" he says. "I know just what you're gonna say. There's no +use of you tryin' to discourage me, because I'm gonna buy a car. Here +I am makin' all kinds of money and I might as well be a bum!--no +automobile or nothin'. I should have had a car long ago; all the big +leaguers own their own tourin' cars. There's no class to you any more, +if you don't flit from place to place in your own bus!" + +"Yeh?" I comes back. "Well, Washington never had no car, but that +didn't stop _him_ from gettin' over! I never heard of Columbus gettin' +pinched for speedin' and Shakespeare never had no trouble with +blowouts. Yet all them birds was looked on as the loud crash in their +time. What's the answer to that?" + +In butts I. Markowitz, shovin' his hat back on his ears. + +"That brings us right down to the present!" he says. "And I could tell +you why none of your friends had oitermobiles. Cars was too expensive +in them days--a millionaire even would have to talk it over with his +wife before they should buy one. But now, almost they give them away! +Materials is cheaper, in Europe the war is over and now competition +is--is--more! That's why I'm able to let your friend have this factory +pet here for eight hundred dollars. A bargain you ask me? A man never +heard a bargain like that!" + +"Don't worry!" I tells him. "Nobody will ever hear about it from me. +If you made him a present of it and throwed in the garage, it would +still be expensive!" + +"Who's buyin' this car?" snarls the Kid. "You or me?" + +"Not guilty!" I says. "If you got to have a car, why don't you buy a +new one?" + +"This is the same as new!" pipes I. Markowitz. + +"Speak when you're spoken to, Stupid!" I says. + +"Don't start nothin' here," the Kid tells me, pullin' me away. "I +don't want none of them new cars. They're too stiff and I might go out +and hit somebody the first crack out of the box. I want one that's +been broke in." + +"Well," I laughs, "that's what you're gettin', believe me! That there +thing has been broke in and out!" I turns to I. Markowitz. "What make +is the old boiler?" I asks him. + +"Boiler he calls it!" he says, throwin' up his hands and lookin' at the +ceilin'. "It's an A. G. F. I suppose even you know what an A number +one car that is, don't you?" + +"No!" I answers. "But I know what A. G. F. means." + +He falls. + +"What?" he wants to know. + +"Always Gettin' Fixed!" I tells him. "They make all them used cars. I +know a guy had two of them and between 'em they made a fortune for +three garages and five lawyers! How old is it?" + +"Old!" says I. Markowitz, recovering "Who said it was old? Your wife +should be as young as that car! It was turned in here last week, only +eight short days from the factory. The owner was sudden called he +should go out of town and--" + +"And he went somewheres and got an automobile to make the trip," I cuts +him off, "and left this thing here!" + +"Don't mind him!" says the Kid, gettin' impatient. "Gimme a receipt." +He digs down for the roll. + +While I. Markowitz is countin' the money with lovin' fingers, I went +around to one side of the so called auto and looked at the speedometer. +One flash at the little trick clock was ample. + +"Stop!" I yells, glarin' at him. "How long did you say this car had +been out of the factory?" + +"Right away he hollers at me!" says I. Markowitz to the Kid. "A week." + +"Well," I tells him, "all I got to say is that the bird that had it +must have been fleein' the police! He certainly seen a lot of the +world, but I can't figure how he slept. He was what you could call a +motorin' fool. It says on this speedometer here, 45,687 miles and if +that guy did it in a week, I got to hand it to him! I'll bet he's so +nutty over speed that he's goin' around now bein' shot out of cannons +from place to place, eh?" + +I. Markowitz gets kinda balled up and blows his nose twice. + +"That must be the--the--motor number!" he stammers. + +"Sure!" nods the Kid. "Don't mind him, he's always got the hammer out. +Count that change and gimme a receipt." + +"Wait!" I says. "Gimme one more chance to save you from givin' +yourself the work. Have you heard the motor turn over? Does the +clutch slip in all right? Do the brakes work? Has the--" + +"Say!" butts in the Kid. "What d'ye think I been doin'--workin' here +at nights? Don't mind him," he tells I. Markowitz, who ain't. "Hurry +up with that receipt!" + +"How is the motor?" I asks that brigand. "Tell me that, will you?" + +"Convalescent!" he sneers, tuckin' the Kid's bankroll away. + +"Some motor, eh?" pipes the Kid. "And it's got a one-man top on it +besides, ain't it?" he asks I. Markowitz. + +"Why not?" says he. "Everything new and up to date you would find on +this car which only yesterday I could have sold to a feller for a +thousand dollars!" + +After pullin' that, he walks over to the thing and climbs in the back. +"An example!" he says. "If you're alone in the car and there's nobody +with you, you only should stand up on the seat and pull up the top like +this, if it comes up a rain. Then you--" + +I didn't hear the rest on account of him havin' trouble makin' his +voice travel from under the seat, because he reached up and pulled +somethin' here and jerked somethin' there--and that one-man top made +good! I thought at first the ceilin' of the joint had fell in, and +I'll bet I. Markowitz _knowed_ it had, but then I seen it was only the +thing that keeps the rain out of the car. Me and the Kid drags him +out, and as soon as he gets on his feet and felt to see if he had his +watch and so forth, he wipes the dirt out of his eyes and turns on me. + +"It's a wonder I ain't now dead on account from you?" he snarls. "I +suppose you're one of them wise fellers from New Jersey, which they got +to be showed everything, heh?" + +"Missouri!" I says. "Not New Jersey. If I was from New Jersey, I +would probably be fightin' with the Kid to let _me_ buy the car!" + +"It's got a self-commencer on it, too!" yelps the Kid, climbin' into +the front seat. "See--lookit!" He presses a button with his foot and +a laughin' hyena or somethin' in the hood moans a couple of times and +then passes away. + +"The first time I wouldn't be surprised you should have to crank it," +says I. Markowitz. "The motor has been standin' so long--I mean--that +is--speakin' of motors, I think that one is maybe a little cold! Once +she gets runnin' everything will be A number one!" + +I goes around the front of the thing and stoops down. + +"Put her on battery, if there's any on there," I calls to the Kid, "and +I'll spin the motor!" + +I. Markowitz steps over and lays his hand on my arm. His face is as +serious as prohibition. + +"Its only fair I should tell you," he whispers, "that she kicks a +little!" + +I give him a ungrateful look and grabs hold of the crank. After +turnin' the thing ninety-four times without gettin' nothin' but a +blister on my thumb, I quit. + +"Nothin' stirrin'," I remarks to I. Markowitz. + +"Believe me, that's funny!" he tells me, shakin' his head like he had +ball bearin's in his neck. + +"Ain't it?" I says. "Are you positive they's a motor inside there?" + +He makes a funny little noise in his throat and not knowin' him long, I +didn't know what he meant. There's a big husky in overalls walkin' by +with plenty of medium oil on his face and a monkey wrench in his hand. +I. Markowitz hisses at him, and they exchange jokes in some foreign +language for a minute and then the new-comer grabs hold of that crank +like the idea was to see if he could upset the car in three twists. He +gives it a turn, and I guess the Kid had got to monkeyin' around them +little buttons on the steerin' wheel because it went off like a cannon. +First, there was a great big bang! And then a cloud of smoke rolls out +of the back of the car and the bird that had wound the thing up come to +in an oil can, half way across the floor. The Kid fell off the seat +and me and I. Markowitz busted the hundred yard record to the front +door. + +"That was a rotten trick, wasn't it?" I asks him when we stopped. + +"What do you talk tricks?" he pants. + +"Why," I tells him, "puttin' that dynamite in the hood!" + +"That wasn't dynamite," he says. "She only backfired a little. I +wouldn't be surprised if it turned out there was, now, too much air in +the carburetor. The only reason I ran out here is because I seen it +passin' a friend of mine and--" + +"I know," I cuts him off. "I seen it too!" + +We go back to the Kid and his play toy, and he's leanin' up against the +side of it rubbin' his shoulder and scowlin'. + +"What kind of stuff was that, eh?" he growls at I. Markowitz. "I liked +to broke my neck!" + +"'Snothin'!" says he, pattin' the Kid on the back and smilin'. "You +could do that with a new car, you could take my word for it. It's all, +now, experience!" He looks around. "Herschel!" he hollers. + +It turns out that Herschel is the guy that had wound the thing up, and +he gets out of the oil can and comes over, mutterin' to himself and +glarin' at all of us. He takes off the hood and stalls around it with +a hammer and a monkey wrench for a minute, still mutterin' away, and +you could see he wasn't wishin' us no luck. Finally, he puts the hood +on again and walks around to the crank. + +"As soon as you could hear it buzz," he grunts at the Kid, "you should +give her some gas." + +I stood aside and picked out my exit, and I. Markowitz seen his friend +passin' again so he started for the door. The Kid says we're both +yellah and climbs gamely back into the seat. Herschel stops mutterin' +long enough to give the crank a turn, which same he did. This time +there was no shots fired, but the thing begins the darndest racket I +ever heard in my life. A boiler factory would have quit cold alongside +of that motor and a cavalry charge would have gone unnoticed on the +same floor. I asked I. Markowitz what broke, and he says nothin' but +that the noise is caused by the motor bein' so powerful, fifty horse +power, he claimed. + +"You can't tell me," I says, backin' away from the thing, "that no +fifty horses could make that much noise, not even if they was crazy! +The guy that brought that in here must have tied a lot of machine guns +together with a fuse and Stupid there set 'em off when he turned the +crank!" + +He runs around to the side where the Kid is and shuts down the gas and +I seen half of Frisco lookin' in the door, figurin' the Japs had got +started at last, or else somebody was puttin' on a dress rehearsal of +the Civil War. + +"Ain't she a beauty?" screams I. Markowitz to the Kid, barely makin' +himself heard over the din. "Give a listen how that motor turns +over--not a break or a miss and as smooth like glass! That's hittin' +on six, all right!" + +"I'm glad to hear that," I says. "I'm glad it's only six, because the +thing will have to quit pretty soon. There ain't no six nothin's could +stand up under that hittin' much longer!" + +I. Markowitz steps on the runnin' board and holds on with both hands. +He had to, because that motor had got the car doin' a muscle dance. + +"Where d'ye want to go?" he yells to the Kid. "I'll have Herschel take +you out so he should show you everything." + +"Tell him to wash his face instead!" the Kid hollers back. "I don't +need nobody to show me nothin' about a car. Come on!" he yells at me. +"All aboard for Film City!" + +"Ha! Ha!" I sneers. "Rave on! I wouldn't get in that thing for +Rockefeller's bankroll!" + +I had to holler at the top of my voice to drown out that motor. + +"C'mon!" yells the Kid. "Don't be so yellah--you got everybody lookin' +at you. She's all right now, and as soon as she gets warmed up she'll +be rollin' along in great shape!" + +"Yes!" I says. "And so will I--in a day coach of the Sante Fe!" + +Well, he coaxed, threatened and so-forthed me, until finally I took a +chance and climbed in beside him. The populace at the doors give three +cheers and wished us good luck as we banged and rattled through their +midst. We went on down the street, attractin' no more attention than +the German army would in London, and every time we turned a new corner +people run out of their houses to see was there a parade comin'. We +passed several sure enough automobiles and they sneered at us, and one +of them little flivvers got so upset by the noise that it blowed out a +tire as we went by. Finally, we come to the city line and the Kid says +he figures it's about time to see can the thing travel. He monkeys +around them strange buttons on the steerin' wheel, pulls a handle here +and there and presses a lever with his foot. The minute he did that we +got action! That disappearin' cannon in the back went off three times +and I bet it blowed up all the buildin's in the block. There was a +horse and buggy passin' at the time and the guy that was drivin' it +don't know what happened yet, because at the first bang, that horse +started for the old country and it must have been Lou Dillon--believe +me, it could run! I looked back and watched it. A big cloud of smoke +rolls up from the back of the car, and I seen guys runnin' out of +stores and wavin' to us with their fists and then a couple of brave and +bold motorcycle cops jumps on their fiery steeds and falls in behind. + +I guess the ex-owner of this bus was on the level at that about doin' +them forty-five thousand miles in a week, because this car could have +beat a telegram across the country, "when she got warmed up!" as I. +Markowitz says. Every one of them six cylinders was in there trying +and when they worked together like little pals and forgot whatever +private quarrels they had, the result was _speed_, believe me! The Kid +was hangin' on to the steerin' wheel and havin' the time of his young +life and I was hangin' on to the seat and wishin' I had listened to +that insurance agent in New York. We come to the top of a hill and as +we start down the other side the prize boob of the county is waterin' +the pavement around his real estate. When he hears us, he drops the +hose which makes it all wet in front of us. + +"Hold tight!" screams the Kid to me. "We're gonna do a piece of +skiddin'. I forgot to get chains!" + +Just about then we hit the damp spot and the Kid puts on the brakes. +Sweet Cookie! You should have seen that car! It must have got sore at +the man with the hose and went crazy, because it made eight complete +turns tryin' to get at him and the poor simp was too scared to run. +Finally the thing gives it up and shoots down to the bottom of the +hill. We hit a log and I hit the one-man top. Then the motor calls it +a day and stops dead. The Kid hops out and walks around to the crank. +He gives it a couple of turns and it turns right back at him. He grabs +it again and it was short with a left hook to the jaw, and then the Kid +shakes his head and takes off one side of the hood. He sticks his hand +down inside and pulls out a little brown thing that looks like a cup +with a cover on it. + +"No wonder she stopped!" he says, holdin' it up. "Look what I just +found in here." + +I give it the once over. + +"What d'ye think of that, eh?" he says. "It's a wonder she run at all! +I'll bet that boob mechanic left that in there when he started us off +at the garage." He throws the thing in a ditch and puts the hood on. +"Now," he says, "we're off for Film City!" + +He grabs hold of the crank and gives it about eleven whirls, but there +ain't a thing doin' and while we're stuck there like that, along comes +a guy in another car. + +"Can I help you fellows out?" he hollers. + +"Yes!" I yells back. "Have you got a rope?" + +He comes over and looks at the thing. + +"What seems to be the trouble?" he asks the Kid. + +"Nothin' in particular," the Kid tells him. "She's a great little car +only we can't get her goin'." + +"Have you got gas?" asks the stranger. + +"Plenty!" says the Kid. "D'ye think I would try to run a car without +gasoline?" + +"I don't know," says the other guy. "I never seen you before! Is your +spark all right?" + +"A number one!" pipes the Kid. + +"And she won't run?" he asks. + +"She won't run!" we both says together. + +"Hmph!" he snorts, scratchin' his head. He opens the hood and fusses +around on both sides for a minute and then he rubs the side of his nose +with his finger. He looks like he was up against a tough proposition. + +"How far have you run this car?" he asks the Kid finally. + +"All the way from Frisco," answers the Kid. + +"Like this?" he says, pointin' to the motor. + +"No!" I cuts in. "It was movin'." + +"Why you couldn't have gone three feet with this car!" he busts out +suddenly. "I never seen nothin' like this before in my life!" + +"Why don't you go out at nights, then?" growls the Kid, gettin' sore. +"Stop knockin' and tell us what's the matter with it." + +"There ain't nothin' the matter with it," says the other guy with an +odd little grin. "Not a thing--_only it ain't got no carburetor in it, +that's all_!" + +If he figured on creatin' a sensation on that remark--and from the way +he said it, he did--he lost the bet. The Kid just gives him the baby +stare and shrugs his shoulders like it's past him. + +"No which?" he says. + +"Carburetor!" explains the native. "The little cup where your gasoline +mixes with the air to start the motor." + +The Kid claps his hands together and yells, + +"That little crook back in Frisco must have held out on me!" + +But I had been doin' some thinkin' and I looks the Kid in the eye, + +"What does this carburetor thing look like?" I asks the other guy. + +He describes it to me, and when he got all through I gives the Kid +another meanin' look and walks over to the ditch. After pawin' around +in the mud for a while I found the little cup the Kid had throwed away. + +"Is this it?" I asks the native. + +"It is," he says. "What was it doin' over there?" + +"It must have fell off!" answers the Kid quickly, kickin' at me to keep +quiet. + +Well, this guy finally fixes us up and about an hour later we hit the +little road that leads into Film City, without havin' no further +mishaps except the noise from that motor. About half a mile from the +gates I seen a familiar lookin' guy standin' in the middle of the road +and wavin' his hands at us. + +"Slow up!" I says to the Kid. "Here's Genaro!" + +The Kid reaches down to the side of his seat and yanks a handle that +was stickin' up. It come right off in his hand and we kept right on +goin'. + +"That's funny!" says the Kid, holdin' up the handle and lookin' at it +like it's the first one he ever seen. "We should have stopped right +away--that's the emergency brake!" + +He stamps on the floor with his foot a couple of times and shuts off +the gas. We drift right on, and, if Genaro had had rheumatism, he +would have been killed outright. As it was, he jumped aside just in +time and the car comes to a stop of its own free will about twenty feet +past him down the road. + +"What's a mat?" yells Genaro, rushin' up to us. "Why you no stoppa the +car when you see me?" + +"Why don't they stop prohibition?" I hollers back at him. "We must +have lost the stopper off this one, we--" + +But he runs around the other side to where the Kid is sitting examinin' +all them handles and buttons. + +"_Sapristi_!" he yells at the Kid. "Where you go, Meester Kid Scanlan? +Everybody she's a look for you--Meester Potts he'sa want you right +away! We starta firsta reel of your picture to-day. Everybody she'sa +got to wait for you!" + +"Keep your shirt on!" growls the Kid. "You told me this mornin' I had +lots of time, didn't you?" + +Genaro grabs hold of a tree and does a little dance. + +"Aha!" he remarks to the sky. "He'sa make me crazee! What you care +what I tole you this a morning? Joosta now I want you queek! You maka +mucha talk with me while Meester Potts and everybody she'sa wait for +you!" + +"Well," says the Kid. "Get in here and we'll go there right away." + +Genaro climbs in the back of the car. + +"Hurry up!" he says, holdin' his ears. "Anything so she'a stop that +terrible noise. Hurry up!" + +"I'll do that little thing!" pipes the Kid--and we was off. + +I climbed over the seat and in the back with Genaro so's he wouldn't +feel lonesome, and, so's if the Kid hit anything, I'd have a little +more percentage in my favor. Genaro seems to be sore about something +and to make conversation I ask him what's the matter. + +"Everything she's the matter!" he tells me, while the Kid keeps his +foot on the gas and we bump and clatter along the road. "Everything +she's the matter! I work all morning on lasta reel of 'The Escapes of +Eva.' Got two hundred extra people stand around do nothing. De +Vronde, the bigga bunk, he's a play lead with Miss Vincent." He stops +and kisses his hand at a tree we was passing "Ah!" he goes on. "She'sa +fina girl! Some time maybe I ask her--pardone, I talka too fast! +Lasta reel De Vronde he'sa get what you call lynched. They putta rope +around he'sa neck and he's a stand under bigga tree. Joosta as they +pulla rope to keel him, Miss Vincent," he throws another kiss at a +tree. "Ah! sucha fina girl!" he whispers at me rollin' his eyes. +"Sometime I--pardone, everytime I forget! Miss Vincent she'sa come +along on horse and sava he'sa life--you see?" + +"I got you!" I tells him. "Then what happens?" + +"_Sapristi_!" he says. "That's all! What you want for five reels? +But thisa morning, Meester Potts he'sa come up and watch. He'sa +president of company and knows much about money, but acting--bah! he'sa +know nothing! Gotta three year old boy he'sa know more! He'sa standa +there and smile and rub he'sa hands together lika barber while we taka +lasta reel. Everything she'sa fine till we come to place where De +Vronde he'sa get lynch and Miss Vincent--ah!--she'sa come up on horse +and sava him. Then Meester Potts he'sa rush over and stoppa the +cameras. 'No!' he'sa yell. 'No, by Heaven, I won't stand for that! +That's a rotten! You got to get difference ending froma that!'" + +"What was the matter?" I asks him. "Didn't he want De Vronde saved?" + +His shoulders does one of them muscle dances. + +"Ask me!" he says. "I couldn't tella you! He'sa know nothing about +art! Joosta money--that's all. He'sa tella me girl saving leading man +from lynch lika that is old as he'sa fren' Methuselah! He'sa want +something new for finish that picture--bran' new, he'sa holler or no +picture! All morning I worka, worka, worka, he'sa maka faces at +everything I do!" + +"Well!" I says. "If you--" + +I happened to look up just then and I seen the well known gates of Film +City about a hundred yards away, and if we was makin' a mile an hour, +we was makin' fifty. I leaned over and tapped the Kid on the shoulder. + +"Don't you think you had better slow up a trifle?" I asks him. + +"I don't _think_ nothin' about it!" he throws over his shoulder. "I +_know_ it! I been tryin' to stop this thing for the last fifteen +minutes and there's nothin' doin'!" + +"Throw her in reverse!" I screams, as them great big iron gates looms +up over the front mud guards. + +"I can't!" he shouts. "The darned thing's stuck in high and I can't +budge it!" + +One of them gates was open and the Kid steers for it, while I closed my +eyes and give myself over to prayer. We shot through leavin' one lamp, +both mudguards and a runnin' board behind. + +"Hey!" yells Genaro. "What's a mat? Thisa too fasta for me! Stoppa +the car before something she'sa happen!" + +"Somethin' she'sa gonna happen right now!" I says. "Be seated!" + +The Kid swings around a corner and everybody in Film City is either +lookin', runnin' or yellin' after us. I often wondered what a wide +berth meant, and I found out that afternoon. That's what everybody in +the place give us when we come through there hittin' on six as I. +Markowitz would remark. A guy made up like a Indian chief jumped +behind a tree and we only missed him by dumb luck. + +"Hey!" he yells after us. "Are you fellows crazy? Look out for the +Moorish Castle!" + +I yelled back that we wouldn't miss nothin' of interest, if we could +help it and the gas held out, and just then I got a flash at the +Moorish Castle. It had been built the day before for a big five reel +thriller that Genaro was gonna produce and I understand he was very +partial to it. As soon as he sees it he jumps up in the back of the +car and slaps the Kid on the shoulders. + +"Hey, crazee man!" he hollers. "Stoppa the car, I, Genaro, command it! +Don't toucha my castle!" his voice goes off in a shriek. +"_Sapristi_!--I--" + +That was all he said just then, because we went through the Moorish +Castle like a cyclone through Kansas, and as we come out on the other +side the whole thing tumbled down, bringin' with it a couple of Chinese +pagodas that had just come from the paint shop. All we lost was half +of the radiator and the windshield. The Kid pulls a kind of a sick +grin and licks his lips. + +"Some car, eh?" he says, takin' a fresh grip on the steerin' wheel. + +I missed Genaro and lookin' back through the dust I seen him draped +over a fence with his head touchin' the ground and his feet up in the +air. A lot of daredevils was runnin' towards us and yellin' murder. + +"Where's Genaro?" asks the Kid, as we miss a tree by a half inch. + +I shivered and told him. + +"The big quitter!" snarls the Kid. "Left us flat the minute somethin' +happened, eh? I always knew that guy was yellah!" + +We shot across the African Desert and comin' around another turn we +bust right into "The Escapes of Eva." There's about two hundred supers +dressed like cowboys and Duke, Genaro's assistant, is up on a little +platform with the Big Boss Potts, directin' the thing. De Vronde is +under a tree with a rope around his neck and another one that don't +show in the picture under his arms so's he can be pulled up and it will +look like he was bein' lynched. A little ways up the road is Miss +Vincent on a horse, ready to make her dash to save De Vronde's life. + +As all this comes into view, the Kid swings around on me and shoves +somethin' big and round in my face. + +"Now!" he hollers. "We're up against it for real! The steerin' wheel +come off!" + +I pushed open the door on the side and stood on the runnin' board. + +"Let me know how you make out!" I yells. "I got enough!" + +With that I jumps. + +Just as I hit the ground, I hear Duke yellin' through a megaphone. + +"C'mon, now--gimme action! Hey! Get two of those cameras at an angle. +When I say 'Shoot!' you, Nelson, and Hardy pull that rope so De Vronde +swings about five feet clear of the ground! Be sure the rope is under +his arms, too! Hey, you extra people--a little ginger there! This is +a lynching not a spelling bee! Dance around some--yell! That's it. +Now, all ready?" He blows the whistle. "Shoot!" he yells, "and gimme +all you got!" + +Well, the Kid did what he could--he blowed the little trick horn on the +side of the car about a second before he shot into the mob. Them +bloodthirsty outlaws just melted away before him, and them that was +slow-witted was picked up and tossed to one side before they knowed +what hit 'em. They's a big stone wall at the other side of the tree +and that's where the Kid was headed for. Just as he sails under De +Vronde, who's hangin' from the rope over his head, the Kid sees the +wall, grabs De Vronde by the legs and hangs there, lettin' that crazy, +six cylinder A. G. F. proceed without him. De Vronde and the Kid +crashes to the ground and the car dashed its brains out against the +wall. + +While great excitement is bein' had by all, Duke jumps from the +platform to tell the camera men to cease firin' and a handful of actors +runs over to jimmy the Kid and De Vronde apart. I thought this Duke +guy was gonna explode, on the level it was two minutes before he could +speak. + +"What d'ye mean, you ivory-headed simp?" he screams at the Kid, +finally. "What d'ye mean by that? You've ruined a hundred feet of +film, you--" + +I hear somebody puffin' along beside me as I come runnin' up and I see +it's Potts. He's red in the face and mumblin' somethin' to himself as +he waddles along. I felt real sorry for the Kid--car and job, both +gone! Potts rushes up and grabs Duke by the shoulder. + +"There!" he yells, pointin' to the Kid. "There stands a man that knows +more about the picture game than the whole infernal lot of you! +_That's the kind of a finish I've been trying to get for this picture +all morning_!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +PLEASURE ISLAND + +Speakin' of boobs, as people will, did you ever figure what would +happen if the production of 'em would suddenly cease? Heh? Where +would this or any other country be, if all the voters was wise guys and +the suckers was all dead? + +In the first place, there wouldn't have been no ex-Land of the Rave and +Home of the Spree, if Queen Isabella hadn't been boob enough to fall +for Columbus's stuff, about would she stake him and his gang of rough +and readys to a couple of ferryboats and they'd go out and bring back +Chicago. Even old Chris himself was looked on as Kid Stupid, because +he claimed the earth was round. The gang he trailed with had it +figured as bein' square like their heads. + +The guy that invented the airship was doped out as a boob until the +thing begin to fly, the bird that turned out the first steamboat was +called a potterin' old simp and let him alone and he'd kill +himself--and that's the way it goes. + +The sucker is the boy that keeps the wise guys alive. He'll try +anything once, and it don't make no difference to him whether it's +three-card monte or a new kind of submarine. He's the guy that built +all the fancy bridges, the big buildin's, fought and won the wars that +the wise guys started, and fixed things generally so that to-day you +can push a little trick electric button and get anything from a piece +of pie to a divorce. He's the simp that falls for the new minin' +company stock, grins when the wise guys explain to him just how many +kinds of a sucker he is, and then clips coupons while _they're_ gettin' +up early to read the want ads. He's the baby that's done everything +that couldn't be did. + +That's the boob! + +The boob is the guy that takes all the chances and makes it possible +for old Kid World to keep goin' forward instead of standin' still. Any +burg that's got a couple of sure enough eighteen-carat boobs in it, +known to the trade as suckers, has got a chance. + +So the next time somebody calls you a big boob, don't get sore--thank +him. He's boostin' you! + +Gimme ten boobs in back of me and I'll take a town, because they'll +take a chance. Gimme a hundred wise guys and the town'll take _us_, +because them birds will have to stop and figure what's the use of +startin' somethin'. + +Me for the boobs! + +Kid Scanlan was a boob. He was a great battler, a regular fellow and +all like that, but he was a boob just the same. He started fightin' +because he was simp enough to take a chance of havin' his features +altered, and he won the title through bein' stupid enough to mix it +with the welterweight champion. I was the wise guy of the party, +always playin' it safe and seein' what made it go, before I'd take a +chance. But the Kid got a whole lot further than I ever will. He made +a name for himself in the ring and another in the movies and I ain't +champion of _nothin'_--I'm just _with_ Scanlan, that's all. + +I'm gettin' offers from promoters here and there to have him start +against some set up for money that was sinful to refuse, but there's +nothin' doin'. The Kid has took to bein' an actor like they did to +gunpowder in Europe, and not only he won't fight, I can't even get him +mad! + +"I'm off that roughneck stuff!" he tells me. "Nobody ever got nothin' +by fightin'. Look what it did to Willard! Besides," he goes on, "what +would John Drew and them guys think of me, if it should leak out that I +had give in to box fightin' again? Why they'd be off me for life! +Nope, let 'em battle in Russia, I'm through!" + +Fine for a champion, eh? + +Now here's a guy that went to the top in the one game where you can't +luck your way over. Because he was a fightin' fool, the 'Kid had +right-crossed his way to the title and now that he was up there, the +big stiff wouldn't look at a glove! No! he was a actor now! I'd tell +him that Kid Whosthis had flattened Battlin' McGluke the night before +and we could get ten thousand to go six rounds with the winner. He'd +flick the ash off a gold-tipped cigarette and say, + +"Yeh?" Then he'd grab me by the shoulder and pour this in my ear. +"Did you get me in that Shakespeare picture last week? I hear the guy +that writes up shows for the Peoria _Gazette_ claims Mansfield had +nothin' on me!" + +A few months before he would have said somethin' like this, + +"All right! Wire the club we'll fight him, and if I don't bounce that +tramp in two rounds, I'll give my end to them starvin' Armenians!" + +Now I didn't kick when the Kid falls for Miss Vincent, because I had +seen Miss Vincent, and the Kid was only human. I didn't say nothin' +when he staked himself to that second-hand auto that like to wrecked +California, but when he pulls this actor thing on me and says pugilism, +_pugilism_, mind you, ought to be discouraged--I figured it was about +time for yours in the faith to step in. + +The Kid had two ambitions in life, both of which he picked up at Film +City. One was to be the greatest movie hero that ever flattened a +villain, and the other was to ease himself into the Golden West Club. + +The Golden West Club was over in Frisco, and as far as the average guy +was concerned it could have been in Iceland. It was about as easy to +get into that joint as it is to get into Heaven, and it was also the +only other place where you couldn't buy your way in. Your name had to +be Fortescue-Smith or Van Whosthis, and you had to look it. You had to +be partial to tea, wrist watches, dancin', opera, tennis and the like, +and to top it all off you had to be a distant relative to a hick called +William the Conqueror, who I hear was light heavy-weight champ in days +of old. If you checked up all right on them little details, they took +a vote on you. If you was lucky, you got a letter in a few weeks later +sayin' your application was bein' considered and you might get in, but +not to bank on it, because they was havin' trouble connectin' up your +grandfather with the rest of the family tree, it bein' said around that +he made his money through work. + +That was the place Kid Scanlan wanted to bust into! + +One night he gets all dressed up like a horse in one of them soup and +fish layouts, and he hires a guy to drive him over to the Golden West +Club in that second-hand A. G. F. he had. I will say the Kid went into +the thing in a big way, payin' seventy-five bucks for a dress suit and +ten more for the whitest shirt I ever seen in my life. He sends in +eight berries for a hack-driver's hat and seven for a pair of tan +shoes. Then he climbs into his bus and tells the driver, "Let's go!" +Before he pulled out, he told me they was so many guys belonged to the +thing that he figured he could mix around for a few minutes without +anybody gettin' wise that he wasn't a regular member, if he could only +breeze past the jobbie on the door. + +And outside of the shoes, which I thought was a trifle noisy, the Kid +sized up like any of the real club members I had seen, except his chest +wasn't so narrow and he had an intelligent look. + +Well, he blowed in about twelve o'clock and come up to the rooms we had +at the hotel in Film City. He stands in the middle of the bedroom, +takes off this trick silk hat, and, puttin' everything he had on the +throw, he pitched it into the bathtub. He slammed that open-faced coat +in a corner and in a minute it was followed by them full-dress pants. +The gleamin' white shirt skidded under the bed, neck and neck with the +shoes. I didn't say a word while he was abusin' them clothes, but I +was so happy I felt like cheerin', because they was somethin' in the +Kid's face I hadn't seen there since we hit the movies. The last time +I had caught him lookin' like that was when One-Punch Ross had dropped +him with a left hook, just before the Kid won the title. When the Kid +got to his feet that there look was on his face and two seconds later +he was welterweight champion of the world and points adjacent. + +He inserts himself into his pyjamas and then he swings around on me. + +"How much did they offer us at the Garden for ten rounds with Battlin' +Edwards?" he wants to know. + +I liked to fell out of the bed! + +"Eight thousand, with a privilege of thirty per cent of the gross," I +says, gettin' off of the hay. "Will I wire 'em?" + +"Yep!" he snaps out. "Tell 'em I'll fight Edwards two weeks after I +get through here!" + +"And when will that be, might I ask?" I says, ringin' for a messenger +and tryin' to keep from dancin' a jig. + +"As soon as them simps finish that picture, 'How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title,'" he tells me. "Genaro says he'll start it to-morrow, and as +soon as it's through, so am I--here!" + +I didn't get the answer to all this until the Kid crawls into the hay +half a hour later, scowlin' and mutterin' to himself. I took a good +look at him and then I says, + +"Speakin' of clubs and stuff like that, how did you make out at that +Golden West joint to-night?" + +He sits right up in the bed. + +"Are you tryin' to kid somebody?" he snarls. + +"I asked you a civil question, you big stiff!" I comes back, "and don't +be comin' around here and slippin' _me_ that rough stuff! If you can +be a gentleman at your clubs and joints like that, you want to be one +here! D'ye get that?" + +He looks at me for a minute and seein' I'm serious, he growls, + +"I thought you had heard about it!" Then he props himself up with the +pillows and begins, "I went over there to-night and them boobs was +havin' a racket of some kind, I guess, because all the automobiles in +the West was lined up outside the doors of the club. I tried to horn +in the line with that boat of mine and the biggest nigger in the world, +dressed up like a band leader, comes over and wants to know if I'm a +guest. I told him no, that I was a movie actor and to step one side or +he'd break the headlights when I hit him. He claims I can't get in the +line without I got a ticket showin' I'm a guest. I got tired of his +chatter, so I dropped him with a short left swing and we keep on goin' +till we wind up at the front door. This stupid simp I had drivin' my +bus is lookin' at the swell dames goin' in, instead of at the emergency +brake, and he forgets to stop the thing till we have took off the rear +end of a car in front of us and busted my front mudguard again. + +"While the chiffure of the wreck is moanin' to my guy about it, I +ducked out the side and blowed around to the entrance. I figured they +was a password of some kind, so I says to the big hick at the gate, +'Ephus Doffus Loffus,' and pushes past him, I guess he was surprised at +me bein' a stranger and knowin' the ropes at that, because I seen him +lookin' after me when I beat it up the first stairway to the second +floor. I got a flash at myself in a mirror as I breeze past, and, if I +do say it myself, I was there forty ways. I was simply a knockout in +that evenin' dress thing! A swell-lookin' guy pipes me at the top of +the stairs and, after givin' me the once over, he taps me on the arm. + +"'You may bring me a glawss of Appollinaris, my man,' he says, 'and for +heaven sake remove those yellow shoes!' + +"With that he walks away and another guy comes up and whistles at me. +When I turn around, he's givin' me the up and down through a glass +thing he's got hung over one eye. + +"'Bring up a box of perfectos at once!' he pipes. 'Come! Look alive +now!' + +"Then I got it! _I_ thought I was knockin' 'em dead and these guys +thought I was a waiter! Well, I thinks, I'll show them boobs somethin' +before I take the air--I can pull that stuff _myself_! With that I +breezes into the next room and there's a hick sittin' at a table, +toyin' with a book. He was as near nothin' as anything I ever seen, on +the level! He's got a swell dress suit on, but it didn't fit him no +better than mine did me and it couldn't have cost no more or he would +have killed the tailor. Outside of the shoes, mine bein' classier, we +was both made up the same. A guy comes in, looks him over for a minute +and then he yawns. 'Bored?' he says. The simp that was sittin' down +looks back at him, yawns and says, 'Frightfully.' Then the other guy +bows at him and goes out. Some other hick wanders in and says, 'Ah, +Van Stuyvessant, bored?' and Stupid says, 'Frightfully' and the other +guy blows out. I seen that the coast was clear, so I smoothed my hair, +pulled down my vest and throwed my chest out like them other guys did. +Then I breezed in and stopped before this guy. He yawns and looks up +at me very dignified like he was sittin' in the Night Court and I was +up before him for the third time in a week. + +"'Hey, Stupid!' I says. 'Get me a gin fizz and don't make it too +sweet! And for heaven's sakes get rid of that shirt!' + +"I thought he was goin' to get the apoplexy or somethin', because his +face is as red as a four-alarm fire. Then he says, + +"'Why--what--how dare you, you insolent puppy!' + +"I leaned on his shoulder and tapped him on the end of the beak with my +thumb. + +"'Lay off that stuff, Simple,' I tells him. 'I'm a guest here and a +couple of hicks took me for a waiter. I'm just gettin' even, that's +all. If you don't get me that gin fizz like I asked you, I'll knock +you for a goal!' + +"He gets as white as my shirt and presses a little button on the table. +A big husky, made up like a Winter Garden chorus man, runs in and +Stupid says, 'Eject this ruffian, Simms! And then you will answer to +me for allowing him to enter!' + +"Simms was game, but a poor worker, so I feinted him over in front of +his master and then I flattened him with a left and right to the jaw. +I took it on the run then and got out the back way!" + +The Kid stops and heaves a sigh. + +"And then what?" I encourages him. + +"And then nothin'!" he says. "That's all! Except I'm off the Golden +West Club, the movies and this part of the country! I got enough. +Them guys over there to-night gimme the tip-off--I don't belong, that's +all! I was a sucker to ever stop fightin' to be a actor, but I got +wise in time. You go ahead and sign me right up with anybody but +Dempsey, and if Genaro don't start my picture to-morrow, I'll give 'em +back their money and you and me will leave the Golden West flat on its +back!" + +Say! I was so happy I couldn't sleep. I just turned over on my side +and registered joy all night long! + +The next mornin' we go to Genaro the first thing, and the Kid puts it +up to him right off the bat. Either he starts "How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title" or he kisses us good-by. Genaro raves and pulls his hair for +awhile, but they ain't no more give to the Kid than they is to marble +and finally Genaro says he'll start the picture right away. + +We find out that another director is usin' the whole camp to put on a +trick called "The Fall of Babylon," so we got to go over to an island +in the well known Pacific Ocean and take what they call exteriors +there. They rounded up Miss Vincent, De Vronde, the cuckoo that wrote +the thing, and about a hundred other people and load us all on a yacht +belongin' to Potts. We're gonna stay on this trick island till the +picture is finished, and we eat and sleep on the yacht. + +On the trip over, we all go down in what Potts claims is the grand +saloon and Van Aylstyne, the hick that wrote the picture, reads it to +us. It starts off showin' the Kid workin' in a pickle factory on the +East Side in New York. They're only slippin' him five berries a week +and out of that he's keepin' his widowed mother and seven of her +children. One day he finds a newspaper and all over the front page is +a article tellin' about all the money the welterweight champion is +makin', so the Kid figures the pickle game is no place for a young +feller with his talent, and decides to become welterweight champ. +First he tries himself out by slammin' the guy he's workin' for, after +catchin' him insultin' the stenographer by askin' her to take a ride in +his runabout, when the buyer is already takin' her out in his +limousine. When the boss comes back to life, he fires the Kid and our +hero goes out and knocks down a few odd brutes here and there for +gettin' fresh with innocent chorus girls and the like. Finally, he +practically wrecks a swell gamblin' joint where he has gone to rescue +his girl, which had been lured there by the handsome stranger from the +city. + +"Well!" says Potts, when Van Aylstyne gets finished. "How does that +strike you?" + +"What I like," pipes Miss Vincent, with a funny little quirk of her lip +and a wink at De Vronde. "What I like is its daring originality!" + +Van Aylstyne stiffens up. + +"Of course," he says, kinda sore, "if I'm to be criticised by--" + +"Ain't they no villains or nothin' like that in it?" butts in the Kid, +frownin' at him. + +"Joosta one minoote!" says Genaro. "Don't get excite! That's joosta +firsta reel!" + +He waves his hand at Van Aylstyne, and this guy gives a couple of +glares all around and then turns over another page. It seems at this +stage of the game, a lot of gunmen get together to stop the Kid from +winnin' the title, so they throw him off a cliff. He gets up, dusts +off his clothes, registers anger and flattens half a dozen of 'em. A +little bit later he gets fastened to a railroad track and the fast mail +runs over him. This makes him peeved, and he gets up and wallops a +couple of tramps that's passing for luck. Then the villain's gang of +rough and readys grabs him again and he is throwed off a ship into the +ocean. A guy comes along in a motor boat, and, after shootin' a few +times at the Kid without actually killin' him, registers surprise and +runs over him. When the Kid comes up there ain't nothin' to wallop, so +he swims six miles to the island. The minute he crawls on the beach he +faces the camera and registers exhaustion. Then a lot of guys jump out +and stab him. He knocks 'em all cold and then he goes on, fights the +champ and wins the title. + +"Is that all there is to it?" asks the Kid, when Van Aylstyne stops for +breath and applause. + +"Practically all," Van Aylstyne tells him. "Of course I'll have to go +over it and spice it up a little more--get more action in it here and +there, wherever it appears to drag. But we can do this as we go along." + +"Yes!" says Potts. "You'll have to do that. I want this picture to be +the thriller of the year!" He scratches his chin for a minute and +looks at Van Aylstyne. "You better ginger it up a bit at that!" he +goes on. "It sounds a little tame to me. See if you can't work in a +couple of spectacular fires, a sensational runaway with Mr. Scanlan +being dragged along the ground, or you might have him do a slide for +life from the topmast of the yacht to one of the trees along the shore +here." + +"Wait!" pipes Genaro. "I have joosta the thing! While I listen, I +getta thisa granda idea! Meester Scanlan, he'sa can be throw from the +airsheep and--" + +"Lay off, lay off!" butts in the 'Kid. "They's enough action in that +thing right now to suit me! Don't put nothin' else in it. I'll be +busier than a one-armed paperhanger as it is!" He turns to Van +Aylstyne. "Where d'ye get that stuff?" he scowls. "Would _you_ jump +off a cliff, hey?" + +Van Aylstyne throws out his little chest, while the rest of them +snickers. + +"I _write_ it!" he says. + +"Yeh?" pipes the Kid. "Well, you'll _jump_ it, too, bo, believe me!" + +"What's a mat?" hollers Genaro. "What's a use hava the fighta now? +Wait till we starta the picture, then everybody she'sa fighta! +Something she'sa go wrong. _Sapristi_! we feexa her then. Joosta +holda tight your horses!" + +He pats the Kid on the shoulder and slips him a cigar. + +The rest of the trip to the island took about two hours, durin' which +time the Kid and Miss Vincent sat on the top deck, and she give him his +daily lesson in how to speak English, eat soup and a lot more of that +high society stuff. + +We finally got to this island place and by three o'clock the next +afternoon they was half way through with the first reel. I horned in +on the thing myself, takin' off a copper, for which they gimme five +bucks even. + +That night they was big doings on board the yacht. They had music and +dancin' and what not galore. Van Aylstyne, Potts, De Vronde and most +of the other help was there in the soup and fish and the twenty odd +dames that was actin' in the picture was all dressed up to thrill. I +never seen so much of this here de collect stuff in my life. I heard a +lot of talk around the studios at the camp about "exposures," and, +well, I seen what they meant all right that evenin'. It got me so +dizzy, never havin' no closeups like that before, that I ducked for my +stateroom about nine o'clock when the joy was just beginnin' to be +unconfined and I hadn't been up there five minutes, when the Kid comes +up and knocks at my door. + +"I'm goin' to hit the hay," he tells me. "If I gotta fight Battlin' +Edwards in two months, I'm gonna start readyin' up now! I been puttin' +on fat since I been here, and it's got to come off. I'll get up at +five to-morrow and do a gallop around the island, and I just dug up a +couple of ex-bartenders among the extry people which will gimme some +sparrin' practice every mornin' till they give out!" + +"Great!" I says. I was hardly able to believe my ears. It sounded +like the old Kid Scanlan again! + +I closed the door, and just as he was turnin' away, I heard the swish +of skirts and then I got Miss Vincent's voice. It was low and sweet +and kinda soothin' and--well, she was the kind of dame guys kill each +other for! Do you get me? + +"Oh!" she kinda breathes. "Why are you up here all alone?" + +I heard the Kid's deep breathin'--it was always that way when _she_ +spoke to him, and I knowed without seein' 'em that his nails was +engravin' fancy work on the palm of his hand. + +"Why," he says, tryin' to keep his voice steady. "I'm off this tango +thing--and the last time I had one of them dress suits on, I was +mistook for a waiter!" + +Y'know there was a funny little catch in the Kid's voice when he pulled +that, although he tried to pass it off by coughin'. That boy sure did +want to mix with the big leaguers, and, bein' Irish, it come hard to +him to miss anything he wanted. Usually he got it! + +I heard Miss Vincent sneer. + +"Don't flatter these conceit-drugged travesties on the male sex by +caring about anything _they_ say," she tells him. "You have so many +things they never will have! Why, you're a big, clean, two-handed man +and--" She breaks off and gives a giggle that I would have took Verdun +for. "But there!" she goes on. "I--I--guess I'm getting too +enthusiastic!" + +I could almost feel her blush, and I knowed how she looked when she did +that thing, so I says, "Good-by, Kid!" + +"That's all right!" pipes the Kid. "It wasn't these guys here. But I +can't go downstairs anyhow, because I gotta start trainin' for Battlin' +Edwards." + +"Oh, bother Battling Edwards!" she says. "I thought you promised me to +give up prize fighting!" + +This was a new one on me, and it cleared up a lot of things I hadn't +been able to figure out before! + +"I gotta take it back," I hear the Kid sayin' in a kinda dead voice. +"I pulled a bone play when I did that! I can't give up fightin' no +more than you can give up the movies! The only thing I got is a +wallop, and that won't get me nowhere in the movies or society, but it +got me the title in the ring. I guess I'll stick to my own game!" + +"Oh, come!" she tells him, kinda impatient. "You have the blues! +Shake 'em off--I don't like you when you scowl like that. Come on down +and have a dance with me. You'll feel better." + +"You said somethin'!" answers the Kid. "But I can't--on the level. I +gotta train for this guy, or he's liable to bounce me, and, if I lose +this quarrel, I'm through! Y'see, this ain't no movie, this is gonna +be the real thing! If this guy flattens me, he'll be the champion and +you _know_ that bird is gonna be in there tryin' till the last bell!" + +I peeked through them little wooden cheaters on the window and I seen +her kinda stiffen up and register surprise. + +"I am not accustomed to coaxing people to dance with me, Mr. Scanlan," +she says, "and--" + +"Yes, and I'm not used to havin' dames like _you_ ask me!" butts in the +Kid. "But I gotta beat Edwards--and I can't beat him by stayin' up +late!" + +She just breezes past him and down the deck without another word. + +The Kid kicks a fire bucket that was standin' there into the Pacific +Ocean, and from the way he slammed the door of his stateroom I'll bet +all them trick beer mugs that Potts had on the wall fell on the floor. + +Well, the next mornin' we all go over to the island again and the Kid +is up at daybreak, trottin' over the hills. He's got four sweaters on, +although it's as hot as blazes, and I'm taggin' along in back of him. +Then he comes back, changes his clothes and works in the picture till +noon, when we knock off for the eats. Miss Vincent passed us once when +we was talkin' to Genaro, and she deliberately passed the Kid up! + +After that it was suicide to give Scanlan a nasty look. + +Along around two o'clock that afternoon, another yacht shows up a +little ways off the island and in a few minutes it stops and five guys +and a woman hops in one of them trick launches and put-puts over to us. +They get out and come up the string-piece and we get a good flash at +them. The male members of the party is all dressed up in blue coats +and white pants and from their general get-up I thought they was all +gonna form a circle, pick up the ends of their coats and pipe. "What +ho, the merry villagers come and we are the daisy maids!" + +All but one. He was a great big husky, kinda dark skinned and he +looked like a assassin with the women, know what I mean? Also, I had +seen this bird somewheres before, but I couldn't check him up right off +the bat. The girl that was with the troupe was a good looker all +right, and you could see she was a big-timer. But she was kinda thin +and worn out to the naked eye. And when I got a close-up of her, I +seen there was a funny look in her eyes, like she had been +double-crossed or somethin'. She looked at everything like she wished +it was hers, but there was no chance, d'ye get me? + +Well, Potts comes a-runnin' to meet 'em and then he comes up and +introduces 'em all around. He claims they're from Frisco and friends +of his which has come over to see how movin' pictures is made and they +might even go so far as to take off a part in one of 'em, just for the +devilment of it. Miss Vincent looks hard and close at the dark-skinned +guy, like she was tryin' to think where she had seen him before, but +Genaro come along just then and I'll bet them newcomers didn't get no +encouragement from the way _he_ looked 'em over. De Vronde and Van +Aylstyne, though, fell for this bunch so hard they liked to broke their +necks. It seems them two hicks found out they all was members of this +Golden West Club, and they did everything but shine their shoes from +then on. + +When the Kid blows in and sees 'em, he claims he remembers 'em all as +bein' among them present the night he went over to the Club, and he +says they had better keep lots of the Golden West between him and them +while they was in our midst. + +The tall dark guy, whose name was somethin' like Brown-Smith, took one +flash at Miss Vincent and then everybody else could have been in France +for all the notice _he_ give 'em. He took up his stand about two feet +away from her, and there he stuck all day long like cement. Anybody +could see that this stuff was causin' two people to register worry. +They was the Kid and the dame that come over with the troupe. Scanlan +watches Brown-Smith makin' his play for Miss Vincent, and he seen that +if she wasn't encouragin' him, she wasn't complainin' to the police +either, but the Kid keeps quiet and takes it out in makin' them +sparrin' ex-bartenders tired of life. + +The next day I got up early lookin' for the Kid, and as I come through +a clearin' in the island I seen three things at once, and if I hadn't +ducked behind a tree, they'd have seen me. There's my meal ticket with +all his sweaters off, standin' in the middle of the little space, +shadow boxin' in front of a tree. The well known sun is shinin' down +on his blonde head, and I never noticed before just what a handsome +brute the Kid was in action. The muscles in his arms are jumpin' and +ripplin' under a skin that a chorus girl would give five years for, and +he's as graceful and light on his feet as one of them Russian toe +dancers. + +The other two things I seen was Miss Vincent and the dame that had +blowed in with the Golden West boys. + +The new dame is watchin' the Kid like he was a most pleasin' sight to +them tired little eyes of hers. Her mouth is open a little bit and +there's a kind of wishin' smile on her lips. Y'know she looked like +this was what she wanted ever since she come into the store. Get me? + +Miss Vincent is doin' a piece of watchin' herself around the tree +that's between 'em, only she ain't watchin' the Kid. She's watchin' +this new dame, and you can take it from me she was registerin' hate! +That classy little nose of hers is quiverin' and she's bitin' hard on +her lip. Her body was so stiff and straight that, on the level, I +thought she was gonna spring! + +The Kid finally stops boxin', puts on his sweaters and then he gets a +flash at the new dame. She calls somethin' to him and he comes +over--then they start back to the yacht together. Miss Vincent ducks +and so did I. I didn't want _none_ of them to see me, because this +thing was gettin' a little too deep for yours in the faith. + +They go ahead with another reel of the Kid's picture that morning and +Brown-Smith still keeps hangin' around Miss Vincent like a panhandler +outside a circus, and when she has to come in the picture herself, he +stands on the sidelines beside one of the camera men, with them chorus +men friends of his draped around him. The Kid is goin' through a scene +where he flattens half a dozen guys that are tryin' to discourage him +from fightin' the champ and Brown-Smith is givin' his friends the low +down on it. + +"By Jove!" he sneers, just loud enough so's we can all get an earful. +"It nauseates me to see that fellow knocking about those poor devils +who have to do that for a living! Fawncy him doing anything like that +in real life! Why, he would most likely call for the police if some +one slapped his wrist. I know those moving picture heroes!" + +This troupe of Sweet Williams around him snickers right out loud in +public at that, like the big guy was simply a knockout as a comedian. +Miss Vincent frowns and the new dame looks kinda worried and nervous, +but the Kid just reddens a bit and continues to swat the supers all +over the lot. Brown-Smith pulls a few more raw cracks like that, +gettin' louder and nastier all the time, and finally he asks Potts to +let him take part in the big scene at the end of the reel where the Kid +is supposed to bounce everybody in the thing but the camera men. He +says it will be great stuff to tell about at the club the first rainy +night and a lot of bunk like that--all the time he's watchin' the Kid +with that nasty sneer on his face. + +Potts says all right, and offers to stake him to an old suit of +clothes, but he laughs and says he won't need anything, tossin' his +coat to one side like the acrobat at the theatre flips away his +handkerchief before goin' to work. He rolls up his sleeves and starts +limberin' up his arms in front of Miss Vincent, winkin' at her and +noddin' to the Kid. She looks kinda worried, but her control is good +and she holds fast. She wasn't the only one that looked worried, +believe me! I was doin' that thing myself, because this Brown-Smith +guy had a good thirty pounds on the Kid, and he was built that way all +over, reach, height and everything else. The minute he put up his +hands, I seen two things. First, that he knowed somethin' about box +fightin' and, second, that he was goin' to try and bounce the Kid for +the benefit of Miss Vincent. + +While they're gettin' things ready for the massacre, the Kid comes over +to me and says, + +"What's the big idea? I know this bird--he's the guy that asked me to +bring him a _glawss_ of Appollinaris that night at the Golden West +Club. If he fusses around me, I'm gonna maul him!" + +I knowed _that_ wasn't the reason, because Kid Scanlan could take both +a wallop or a joke. The reason was standin' about three feet away +talkin' to Genaro and she never looked better. Believe me, she had +everything that mornin'! + +"Looka thisa bigga boob, Miss Vincent!" Genaro is sayin', wavin' his +arms around and shakin' his head at Brown-Smith. "He'sa wanna get in +my picture so he showa the girls what a bigga fella he is. Meester +Potts he's a go crazee if thisa picture she's a no good. He's a joomp +at me, he's a holler at me and he letta thisa bigga bunk get in it! +Thisa fight, she'sa gotta looka real--not lika the actor, butta _real_! +Thisa fella he'sa go in slappa Meester Scanlan on he'sa wrist. Meester +Scanlan he'sa no wanna hurt Meester Potts' fren'--you know?--so he'sa +slappa heem back! Everybody she'sa laugh at me when they showa that +picture. Aha! They maka me crazee!" + +He runs over to Brown-Smith and grabs his arm. + +"Please, Meester!" he begs him, with tears in his eyes. "Please, +Meester, getta gooda and rough with thisa fella!" he points to the Kid. +"Don't be afraid for heem, he's a tougha nut! He's a nevaire geta +hurt! Don't maka thisa fight looka like the act. You rusha heem, +hitta heem, wrestle heem, choka heem, graba heem, bita heem, kicka +heem, anything but keela heem, so thisa picture she looka like reala +fight! Pretty soon, I blowa the whistle. He's a hitta you +easy--so--you falla down. Maka looka good, don't sitta down, falla +down--so!--" Genaro stops and throws himself on the grass and then +hops up again. "You watcha that?" he goes on. "Alla right!" He jumps +away from the cameras and yells, "Hey, Joe! You stanna over there and +shoota this froma the right! Alla right, now everybody! Meester Kid +Scanlan, you ready? Gooda! Come now--cameras--ready--shoot!" + +The Kid meets the rush of the gang like they had practised it together, +and he floors one after the other of them with snappy left hooks. Of +course he was pullin' his punches and barely touchin' these hicks, but +it looked awful good from front. Then Brown-Smith, who had been +hangin' around on the outside, rushes in. For a guy who had never +tried the thing before, he struck me as bein' real swift at pickin' up +the rules, because he faced the cameras at the right angles and pulled +a lot of fancy stuff that usually nobody but a sure enough movie actor +knows. The Kid sidesteps him and puts a light left to his chin and +Brown-Smith comes back with a right swing that would have floored the +Kid, if it hadn't been too high. The Kid went back on his heels and a +little trickle of claret comes from his lips. Genaro jumps in the air, +clappin' his hands. "Magnificenta!" he yells. Miss Vincent is +breathin' hard and her hands pressed up tight against her chest. Her +face was the color of skimmed milk. Genaro pipes her and grabs a +camera man. "Shoota that--queek!" he hollers, pointin' to her. The +new dame runs over to me and grabs my arm. + +"Stop it!" she whispers, excited like. "You must! Albert will kill +him! He was amateur heavyweight champion once and--oh!--he wants to +beat Mr. Scanlan--he--oh!--" + +I heard Miss Vincent give a little yelp, and I shove this dame away +and, believe me, bo, _I_ come near goin' dead on my feet! _Because +there's my champ on the ground, layin' flat on his face and he looked +as cold as the North Pole_! I started to dash in, but Genaro grabs me +and throws me aside. "Stoppa, fool!" he yells. "Thisa picture she'sa +maka me famous!" + +The rest of the mob is too scared to do anything--they knowed that this +was the real thing! The Kid gets up on one knee, and, on the level, +the only sound you could hear was his choked breathin' and the steady +click of the cameras--yes, and I guess the beatin' of my heart! The +Kid is shakin' his head to clear it from that wallop and I yelled to +him to stay down and take his time. He gets half way up and slides +down again flat and Brown-Smith laughs. Then Miss Vincent suddenly +turns, and there's a bucket of ice cold lemonade standin' on a bench +beside her. It had been put there for the extry people. This here +eighteen-carat, regular fellow dame grabs that bucket and throws the +lemonade all over the Kid's head and shoulders! + +It braced him like a charge of hop--his head jerked up as it hit him +and he shook off the drops--and in another second he was on his feet, +smilin' the old Scanlan smile and dancin' around this guy who was +rushin' in to finish him. He swings for the Kid's jaw and the Kid, +movin' his head an inch out of the way, puts a hard right and left to +the mouth. Brown-Smith coughed out a tooth that he had no further use +for, and starts backin' away, coverin' up like a crab. The Kid laughs +over at me and sends this guy's head back like it was on a hinge, with +two uppercuts and a right jab. He tries to rush in and grab the Kid, +and Scanlan closes his left eye with the prettiest straight left I ever +seen. He wasn't tryin' to knock this big stiff out, he was +deliberately cuttin' him to pieces in a most cold, workmanlike manner. + +Miss Vincent is smilin' now and the other dame--is not! Potts's mouth +is open about five yards and he looks like he don't know whether to +call the police or go back to the box office for a better seat. Then +the Kid starts backin' friend Brown-Smith all over the place, shootin' +lefts and rights at him so fast that I bet he thought it was rainin' +wallops. He begins to register yellah--he gazes around wildly at +Genaro and Genaro reaches for the whistle so's Brown-Smith can quit, +but Miss Vincent sees him reach for it and she knocks it out of his +hand! Genaro looks hard at her and yells to the camera men to keep +turnin' the cranks. Potts starts over, stops, shakes his shoulders and +turns his back. + +Then the Kid tips back Brown-Smith's head with a lightnin' right hook +and drops him with a left to the jaw. + +They stopped the cameras and everybody give a hand in bringin' the +dashin' Brown-Smith back to the Golden West again. Everybody but me, +the Kid and Miss Vincent. The Kid walks over to Potts and stares at +him. + +"Well," he says. "I guess I'm through after that, eh?" + +Potts slaps him on the back. + +"Hardly!" he grins. "That was the greatest piece of acting I ever saw +before a camera!" + +Genaro runs up and grabs the Kid's hand. + +"Wonderful!" he hollers. "Magnificenta! You are what you calla the +true artiste, Meester Kid Scanlan! That picture she will be the talka +of the country! She'sa maka me famous!" + +"Yeh?" says the Kid. He turns to me and waves over to where +Brown-Smith is recognizin' relatives and close friends. "That guy has +an awful good left!" he says. He thinks for a minute. "D'ye know," he +goes on, "that hick was _tryin'_, at that!" + +I see Miss Vincent talkin' to Potts and all of a sudden he throws up +his hands and stares over at Brown-Smith. + +"What?" he hollers. "Impossible!" + +Then he slaps his hands together and laughs out loud. + +"Oh!" he says, holdin' his sides. "This is too much! Ha, ha, ha!" + +"What's the joke?" I asks Miss Vincent. + +"It's more of a tragedy!" she says, kinda hysterical like she was glad +it was all over. "That man is no more Brown-Smith than you are. He's +Albert Ellington LaRue, who five years ago was the biggest moving +picture leading man in the country! Why, he got hundreds of letters +every day from poor, foolish little girls who grew dizzy watching him +foil villains in five reels a week. He inherited some money--quite a +lot, I believe, and suddenly vanished from the screen, turning up as +Brown-Smith here last year. But he simply could not resist the call of +his vanity to come back once more as the dashing hero of the film. He +had planned to step into this picture, turn the tables in the fight +with Mr. Scanlan, who he thought was an actor and not a pugilist, and +thus come back to the movies in a blaze of glory! He told me he had +two press agents awaiting the word to flash his coup all over the +country. He thought it would make a great story!" She stopped and +laughed. "It will!" she goes on. "Think of the matinee girls when +they see their darling Albert back in the flash once more and being +unmercifully beaten by a man thirty pounds lighter and inches smaller +than him!" + +Just then the fair Albert comes limpin' over to Potts. He looked like +he'd been battlin' a buzz saw! + +"Mr. Potts," he says, "if you dare to use that scene in your picture, I +will bring suit against your firm. I demand that the film be destroyed +at once!" + +"What you say!" screams Genaro. "Nevaire! She'sa mine, that picture! +Away wit' you--you bigga bunk!" He stands before the camera like he's +ready and willin' to protect it with his life. + +"You entered the scene of your own accord, _Mr. LaRue_," remarks Potts, +"and I trust you are in earnest about suing us. The publicity will +just about save me a hundred thousand in advertising." + +As soon as he heard that name "LaRue," this guy just kinda caves in and +closes up tight. Miss Vincent turns her nose up at him and walks over +to the Kid as the other dame comes up and shakes Scanlan's hand. + +"Thank you!" she says, in that tired voice of hers. "You have done a +big thing for me! Now he cannot go into the pictures again, and maybe +he'll--he'll stay home with me!" + +At that Miss Vincent suddenly leans over and kisses her. Can you beat +them dames? + +Albert picks up his hat and straightens his tie. Then he glares from +one to the other of us and walks over to Genaro. + +"I trust," he says, throwin' out his chest. "I trust you realize that +if your picture is a success, I, and I alone, am responsible for it. +If it hadn't been for the advent of myself, a finished artist, in that +fight scene, it would have fallen flat! Good day, sir!" + +And him and his dame and the white-faced Sweet Williams blows! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +LEND ME YOUR EARS + +I don't mind a four-flusher if his stuff is good, know what I mean? A +guy that makes the world think he's there forty ways when as a matter +of fact, he's _shy_ about sixty, deserves credit. Usually, them birds +get it too! They know more about credit than the guy that wrote it, +and any butcher, grocer, tailor or the like who figures on 'em settlin' +the old account has no right to be in business. The only time a +four-flusher pays off is when he hits a new town. Then, if the +attendance is good, he'll buy four or five evenin' papers right out +loud in front of everybody, carelessly displayin' a couple of yellow +bills that might be fifties--if they wasn't tens. After that outburst, +all he spends is the week end. + +For the benefit of them which live in towns where the total vote for +President sounds like the score of a world series game, I'll explain +what a four-flusher is, although they probably got one in their midst, +at that. You'll generally find _one_ wherever there's two people--men +or women. A four-flusher is a guy who claims he can lick Jack Dempsey +in a loud and annoyin' voice, and then runs seven blocks in five +minutes flat when some hick in the back room arises to remark that he's +willin' to take a beatin' for Jack. A four-flusher is the bird that +breezes down Main street in a set of scenery that would make John Drew +look like one of the boys in the gas main trenches somewheres in +Broadway, and yet couldn't purchase an eraser, if rubber was sellin' at +three cents a ton. A four-flusher is a hick that admits bein' a better +singer than Caruso, a better ball-player than Ty Cobb, a better real +estate judge than Columbus and more of a chance taker than Napoleon. + +The first time he starts at any one of them things, he's a odds-on +favorite for last and finishes ten lengths behind the rest of the +field. That's a four-flusher. + +A guy can be taught paintin', pinochle, politics and prohibition, but a +first-class four-flusher is _born_ that way! + +Takin' 'em as a league, I'm about as fond of them guys as a worm is of +a fisherman. The only one I ever fell for was J. Harold Cuthbert, and +that bird had somethin' that the others didn't--he was different! I +thought I had seen 'em all, but this guy crossed me, his stuff was new! + +The way I met Harold was almost romantic. He was reclinin' on the +ground in a careless manner about ten feet away from the main entrance +to Film City, and he looked like the loser in a battle royal where the +weapons used had been picked out by a guy who hoped there'd be no +survivors. He was gazin' up at what the natives insist is a better +grade of sky than anything we got in the East, and he looked like he +was tryin' to figure whether they was right or not. About two feet +away, lumberman's measure, observin' the wreck and yawning was Francis +Xavier Scanlan, known to the trade as Kid Scanlan, welterweight +champion of the world and Shantung. I looked around for a director and +a camera man, but they was nobody else in sight, so figurin' this +couldn't be nothin' more than a dress rehearsal, I stepped over to the +Kid. + +"Who's your friend?" I asks him, noddin' to the sleepin' beauty. + +"I seen Genaro lookin' for you," says the Kid. "I'll bet you been over +to Frisco tryin' to nail that dame at the Busy Bee, ain't you?" + +"A gambler will never get nowheres," I tells him, "but you're startin' +off with a win on that bet!" I points at the model for still life +again. "When does that guy get up?" I inquires. + +The Kid looks down at him for a minute, proddin' him carelessly with +his foot. + +"Weather permittin'," he answers, "he ought to be on his feet in five +more minutes, and I'd never have raised a finger to him, if he hadn't +come at me first!" + +"D'ye mean to say you been wallopin' that guy?" I says. + +"Well, what does it look like?" sneers the Kid. "A man's got a right +to protect himself, ain't he?" + +"He hit you, eh?" I says. + +"No!" answers the Kid. "He didn't get that far with it, but he claimed +he was goin' to, and naturally it was up to me to stop him from gettin' +in a brawl. I never seen a gamer guy in my life, either," he goes on, +admirin'ly. "He knows he'll catch cold layin' on the ground like that, +and yet the minute I stung him he takes a dive and stays down!" + +By this time our hero has risen to his feet and, while dustin' off his +clothes, he looks like he's figurin' whether he ought to claim he'd +been doped and ask for a return bout, or call it a day and let it go at +that. Except for where the Kid had jabbed him, he wasn't a bad lookin' +bird, his best bets bein' a crop of dark, wavy hair and a set of +features which any movie leadin' man could give ten thousand bucks for +and make it up on the first picture. The suit of clothes he was +wearin' had probably put the tailor over, and he also had two yellow +gloves and a little trick cane. He walks over to where me and the Kid +was standin' and takes off his hat. It was one of them dashin', +devilish soft things that has names like Pullman cars--you know, "The +Bryn Mawr, $2.50. All Harvard Wears One." Then he points at the Kid +with his cane. + +"I made a serious error," he remarks, "in engaging in a brawl with a +thug! I thought you would meet me with a gentleman's weapons and--" + +"I ain't got a marshmallow on me," butts in the Kid, grinnin', "or I +would have done that thing. You come at me without no warnin', didn't +you?" + +"Merciful Heaven, what grammar!" says the other guy. "I didn't come at +you, as you say in that quaint English of yours, I thought you could +take a joke or--" + +"Yeh?" interrupts the Kid. "That's what the formerly Kaiser has been +tryin' to tell the world, but it ain't goin' into hysterics over his +comedy!" + +"Well," says the other guy, buttonin' up his coat and glarin' at us +both, "this is not the end of the incident, you can rest assured of +that! The next time we meet I think the result will be different!" + +"Say!" pipes the Kid. "What d'ye think I'm gonna do--fight a world +series with you? If you wanna scrap, I know where you can get all the +action you can handle." + +"And where is that, pray?" asks the other guy. + +"Russia!" says the Kid. "You must have seen it in the papers." He +pats him on the shoulder. "And now, good-by and good luck," he goes +on. "I'm sorry I had to bounce you, but--" + +"Enough of this nonsense!" cuts in the other guy, pullin' out a card +and passin' it over to the Kid. "My seconds will wait upon you +to-morrow. I choose rapiers!" + +"You which?" says the Kid, examinin' the card. "I don't make you." + +"I said that my choice of weapons is rapiers!" explains this guy. "And +as a matter of fairness I must tell you that I have never met my equal +with a sword!" + +"Are you tryin' to kid me?" asks Scanlan. "What d'ye mean rapiers?" + +"Is it possible you have never handled a blade?" exclaims the other +guy, like he couldn't have heard it right. + +"I used to, at that," admits the Kid, "but now I use a fork, except to +pat down the potatoes!" + +"So much the worse for you, then!" frowns the sword-swallower. "But +you brought it upon yourself. Remember, to-morrow! And--" he stoops +over and hisses, "--rapiers, without buttons!" + +"Ha, ha!" yells the Kid. "Raypeers without buttons! How are you gonna +hold 'em up?" + +"Your ignorance is pathetic--not funny!" answers the other guy. + +"I know," says the Kid. "I barely got through Yale!" He lays his arm +on this guy's shoulder. "Are you on the level with this fight thing?" +he asks him. + +"I was never more in earnest in my life!" says the knife-thrower. + +"Or nearer Heaven!" grins the Kid. "All right!" he goes on. "I'm +game, if you are, only there's just one question I'd like to ask before +the slaughter begins; don't _I_ get no say about the tools we're gonna +use?" + +This guy thinks for a minute and then nods his head. + +"Very well!" he says. "I'll make the concession--an unheard-of thing +in the code. What is your choice?" + +"Pinochle!" yells the Kid. "I'll stake you to a hundred aces and beat +you from here to Denver!" + +"Ugh!" snorts the other guy--and castin' a sneer at both of us, he +passes in the gate. + +We went in after him, and the Kid tells me how he come to flatten this +baby, which, from the card he give us, was J. Harold Cuthbert. The Kid +says Harold stopped him outside the portals of Film City and asked him +why no auto had met him at the train. Scanlan says he didn't know, but +he had seen the mayor and two brass bands goin' down and hadn't Harold +met 'em? Harold says he had not and he was gonna file a complaint +about it, because he was the greatest movie actor that ever bawled out +a director. With that, says the Kid, he reeled off the names of the +pictures he had been featured in, and from the list he give out the +only thing he wasn't featured in was "Microbes at Play," a educational +film tore off by the company last year. The Kid asks him if he ever +heard of Kid Scanlan, the shop girls' delight, who was bein' starred in +a five-reeler called "Lay Off, MacDuff." Harold throwed out his chest +and says he wrote it and practically made Scanlan by directin' it. At +that the Kid tells him that he may be a movie star, but he looks like a +liar to him. Harold makes a pass at him, and Scanlan hit him to see +would he bounce. He didn't, and he was just comin' around when I +blowed on the scene. + +When we got to Genaro's office, Harold was tellin' Eddie Duke the +reason he was bunged up was because he had fell off the train comin' +out, and Eddie says that was tough and it was time Congress got after +them railroads, but the thing he'd like to know was why Harold had come +out at all. They had looked up the files and there was nothin' to show +who had ordered this guy shipped on. + +Harold looks over the bunch in the office for a minute, registers +"I-am-thinking-deeply," and then snaps his fingers. + +"Oh!" he says. "I had a letter of introduction from Mr. Potts, but I +suppose it's in my gray morning suit which will arrive with my trunks +in a day or so. Mr. Potts and myself are old friends," he winks at +Genaro confidentially. "I really think my father owns a slew of the +company's stock, but then Dad is connected with so many vast +enterprises that--" + +"Joosta wan minoote!" interrupts Genaro, turnin' a cold eye on Harold. +"Joosta wan minoote! We're very busy joosta now, sometime nex' week +everybody she'sa listen about your father. What we wanna know is what +Meester Potts he'sa senda you out here to do?" + +"Yeh!" says Duke. "That's the idea--what's your act?" + +"Why, I intend to play romantic leads," pipes Harold, "and I have an +idea that--" + +"Ha, ha!" laughs the Kid. "That's fair enough. All Edison had was a +idea, and look at him now!" + +Harold frowns at him and walks over to Miss Vincent. + +"How do you do, Miss Vincent," he says, takin' off his hat and +presentin' her with a bow. "I knew you at once from your photographs. +I have a remarkable memory, inherited from my father. The late J. P. +Morgan once said of him, during the course of a gigantic stock deal, +that--but enough of personalities. I saw you in the 'Escapades of +Eva.'" + +"Did you like me?" smiles Miss Vincent. + +"Very much!" Harold tells her. "Although the mediocre support and +execrable direction spoiled most of your opportunities. Now if _I_ had +directed that picture, you would have been a great deal--" + +"Joosta wan minoote!" butts in Genaro, gettin' red in the face. "I, +Genaro, directed that picture!" + +Harold looks over at him and lights a cigarette. + +"Well," he says, flickin' the ash in Genaro's drinkin' glass, "I +daresay you did your best! But had _I_ been there when the picture was +being produced, I would have suggested a great many things that would +have greatly improved it. I remember calling Belasco's attention to a +detail one time and Dave said to me--" + +"Enough!" snaps Genaro, glarin' at him. "You will report to Meester +Duke. He'sa tella you what to do. Or maybe," he snorts, "maybe _you_ +tella heem!" + +And he stamps out of the office. + +"What a quaint little man!" says Harold, sittin' down in Genaro's chair +and glancin' with interest over some letters that was on his desk. +"How do those chaps ever get into the movies?" + +"Ow!" whispers Duke. "If the quaint little man had only heard that!" +He turns, to Harold. "I don't know where I can place you right away," +he says. "How are you on Shakespeare? We're putting on a seven reeler +of 'As You Like It' with Betty Vincent as Rosalind. Do you think you +could do Orlando?" + +Harold throws out his chest and sneers. + +"What a question!" he remarks. "I could eat it up!" + +"I don't want you to eat it," says Duke, gettin' sore. "If you can +play it, I'll be satisfied! You had better go over and register at the +hotel now, and, when you come back, we'll go over the thing." + +Harold gets up, yawns and looks at Miss Vincent. + +"I'll show you an entirely new interpretation of Rosalind, Miss +Vincent," he tells her. "Of course, Shakespeare was clever after a +fashion, but _I_--however," he breaks off and holds out his arm. +"Would you care to walk about the grounds here a bit, so that I may +illustrate some of the salient points in my version?" + +"No!" cuts in the Kid, before she can answer. "On your way!" he says. +"Miss Vincent's got a date with me to find out is it true you can make +ninety miles an hour in a 1921 Automatic!" + +"But--but, my dear sir--" splutters Harold. "I--you--" + +"Listen, Stupid," says the Kid. "I can't be bouncin' you all day, but +if you don't canter along, I'll make you hard to catch!" + +Miss Vincent smiles and grabs the Kid by the arm. + +"Let us have no violence!" she says. "You can tell me all about +Rosalind when I return, Mr. Cuthbert." + +"Yeh," adds the Kid. "I'll be willin' to stand for a earful of it +myself, then." + +And they breeze out of the office. + +"Heavens, what an uncouth ruffian!" pipes Harold, lookin' after 'em. +"I wonder Miss Vincent trusts herself in his company." + +"She's a whole lot safer with him than you'd be, old top!" I says. +"And if I was you, I'd lay off that uncouth ruffian stuff around the +Kid. Don't keep temptin' him, because he's liable to get sore, and +when Scanlan gets mad you want to be in the next county!" + +"Huh!" sneers Harold. "What does he do, pray?" + +"Well," I says, "I'll tell you. I don't get that dewpray thing of +yours, but the last time the Kid got peeved he won the welterweight +title! Is that good enough?" + +"He had better look to his laurels," remarks Harold, "for if he insults +me again, he'll lose them! I'm rather a master of boxing, and at home +I won several medals as an amateur heavy--" + +"I suppose," I butts in, "I suppose you left them medals in one of them +gray mornin' suits of yours, eh? You didn't have 'em on when the Kid +flattened you, did you?" + +"I am not fond of vulgar display," he says, "or--" + +"What are you wearin' that black eye for then?" I asks him. + +He didn't have none ready for that, and I blew. + +Well, Harold run true to form. + +The next afternoon I seen Duke standin' near the African Desert. He +was callin' upon Heaven in a voice that could be heard plainly in Cape +May, N. J., to ask it if it had ever seen a actor like J. Harold +Cuthbert. Not gettin' no answer, he turned his attention to the other +place, and when he seen me he put it up to me. + +"What's the matter with Harold?" I asks him. "I thought he was gonna +be a knockout in this Shakespeare stuff." + +"He was!" says Duke. "The camera men are laughin' yet! Alongside of +that big four-flusher, Kid Scanlan would look like Richard Mansfield!" + +"He's rotten, eh?" I says. + +"Rotten?" yells Duke. "Why, say--callin' him _rotten_ is givin' him a +_boost_! If that big stiff is an actor, I'm mayor of Shantung! He +don't know if grease paint is to put on your face or to seal letters +with, he's got the same faculty of expression on that soft putty map of +his as an ox has, he makes love like a wax dummy and he come out to +play 'As You Like It' in a dress suit! It took eight supers to keep +him away from in front of the camera, and he played one scene with his +face glued up against the lens!" + +Just then Harold himself eases into view with the Kid taggin' along at +his side. Scanlan is excited about somethin' and wavin' his arms, but +Harold still has that old sneer on his face, and as they come up, I +hear him sayin' this, + +"My dear fellow, I know more about auction pinochle than Hoyle. At +home I am recognized as the champion card player of--" He breaks off, +when he sees us, and turns to Duke. "Hello!" he calls over. "Are you +ready to admit now that my idea of making feature productions is the +right one?" + +"No!" snarls Duke. "But I'll concede that as an actor you're a +crackerjack bartender! D'ye mean to tell me that you got away with +that kind of stuff in the studios back East?" + +"I introduced it!" says Harold, proudly. "As a director for some of +the largest film companies in the world, I have put on hundreds of--" + +"The only thing you ever put on was your hat!" interrupts Duke. "And I +bet that give you trouble on account of the size of your head. I +suppose you're gonna tell me that you're also a scenario writer, a +camera man and the guy that got Nero's permission to film the burnin' +of Rome, eh?" + +"The last is something of an exaggeration," pipes Harold, "but as far +as the other things you mentioned are concerned, I must confess that +there are few people in the business who have approached me!" + +"Ain't that rich?" whispers the Kid to me. "You got to hand it to this +bird!" + +"You'd be a wonder as a press agent!" I says to Harold. + +"Now that's odd you should remark that," he smiles. "For, as a matter +of fact, I excel in _that_ field! I did all the press work for--" + +"Columbus!" yells Duke, wavin' him off. "Good-by!" he goes on. "I got +enough! You got a liar lookin' like George Washington!" + +Harold looks after Duke as he went into the office. + +"Heavens!" he says. "I can't stand that man with his petty little +jealousies! Now when I--" + +I don't know what the rest of it was, because me and the Kid left him +to tell it to the African Desert. + +Well, Genaro bein' afraid to get in dutch with Potts, which accordin' +to Harold was a ex-roommate of his, give this guy a crack at everything +from directin' to supin', and Harold hit .000 at 'em all. The only +thing he seemed to be any good at was talkin' about himself, and he was +champion of the world at that! He was willin' to concede that +Wellington beat Napoleon and it was Fulton who doped out the steamboat, +but _he_ was the guy that had put over everything else. His favorite +word only had one letter in it, and that's the one that comes right +after H. No matter what subject would come up anywheres where Harold +could get a earful of it, he was the bird that invented it! + +We went down to Montana Joe's one afternoon to deal prohibition a blow, +and the Kid gets talkin' about drinkin' as a art, carelessly lettin' +fall the information that, before he had put the Demon Rum down for the +count, he had been looked on as a champion at goin' through the rye. +He winks at Joe and orders a tumbler of private stock. Harold never +bats a eye, but says he's got a roomful of lovin' cups which was give +him for emptyin' bottles. Joe sets down a mixin' glass full of booze +before the Kid, and Scanlan looks at Harold and asks Joe what was the +matter with the shaker. Harold coughs and raps on the bar. "You may +let me have a seidel of gin!" he says, sneerin' at the Kid--and we all +fainted! + +He got run out the south gate one afternoon by a enraged scene painter +for tellin' the latter that he could shut both eyes, bind one arm, lay +flat on his side and paint a better exterior than the two hundred +dollar a week decorator, and he started a riot in the developin' room +another time by remarkin' that the bunch in there didn't know how to +paste up film--adding of course, that _he_ did. He tried to show Van +Aylstyne how to write scenarios, and Van Aylstyne threatened to quit +cold if Harold wasn't called off, and when he found fault with Genaro's +lightin' of a night scene, Genaro chased him all over the place with a +practical shotgun. + +It wouldn't have been so bad, if Harold had come through on +_somethin'_. If he had discovered _anything_, he could actually do +even half way decent, he would have got away with murder. But +no!--That bird was the original No Good Nathan, from Useless, Miss. + +The fact that he didn't cause no sensation in our midst, worried Harold +about as much as the price of electric fans keeps 'em awake in Iceland. +There was only one thing Harold was afraid of--and that was lockjaw! + +Then Potts blows in unexpected one afternoon, and we all stood around +to see him and Harold fall on each other's neck. In fact, pretty near +everybody in Film City watched the reunion which took place on the edge +of the Street Scene in Tokio--it was very affectin'. + +Potts comes walkin' along with three supers and Eddie Duke carryin' his +suitcases, when Harold bumps into the parade at the corner. Genaro had +sent him over to Frisco for a lot of props that would be needed in a +picture he was puttin' on, and naturally, now that Potts was on hand, +he was anxious to have everything O.K. He had give Harold a list in +the mornin' that read like a inventory of a machine shop, and here's +friend Harold comin' back with nothin' in his hands but his fingers. + +"The props--where are they?" shrieks Genaro. "Seven hour you have been +gone and you come back with nothing! Everything she'sa ready and we +musta wait till you come with the props--where are they--queek?" + +"My dear fellow," says Harold, bowin' to Miss Vincent, "there is no +excuse for addressing me before these ladies and gentlemen in that +ruffianly manner. I was unable to carry out your--er--orders this +morning, having overlooked a trifling detail in the scurry and bustle +of catching that ungodly early train." + +"What!" screams Genaro, doin' a few cabaret steps. "You got nothing? +_Sapristi_! What you do--make fun of me? Why you no get those props?" + +"Calm yourself!" pipes Harold. "I'll tell all. I forgot the list of +articles you gave me and--" + +"Aha--he'sa maka me crazee!" yelps Genaro, pullin' a swell clog step. +"Take heem away before I keel heem!" + +Just then Potts comes by, and we all yell, "Welcome to Film City, Mr. +Potts!" Harold hears this and turns pale. He seen we was all watchin' +closely for the grand reunion between him and his old college chum +Potts. He coughs a couple of times and takes a step forward. That boy +was game! + +"How do you do, Mr. Potts?" he says. "Did you--er--have a pleasant +trip?" + +"Yes," answers Potts, lookin' at him kinda puzzled. "What is your name +again? I don't seem to recall it!" + +And the boss was supposed to be Harold's dear old college chum! + +"Why--er--why--ha! ha!" pipes Harold, dyin' game. "That's odd! Surely +you recall--eh--Cuthbert, my name is, you must remember--eh--why in New +York we--eh--" + +He's about eighty feet up in the air and still soaring with the whole +bunch watchin' him and enjoyin' the thing out loud. Potts is lookin' +him over like he's a strange fish or somethin'. + +"I think you're mistaken!" pipes the boss, cuttin' in on Harold, "I +never saw you before in my life!" + +With that he passes on, leavin' Harold flat and with no more friends +than China had at the Peace Conference. + +After that little incident, it was about as pleasant for Harold in Film +City as it was for a German in Liverpool durin' the war. Genaro, Duke +and everybody else went out of their way to make him sick of the +movies, but Harold stuck around and took whatever odd jobs that come +his way with the remark that he could do it better than anybody else +and that was why they give it to him. + +I made a mistake when I said everybody rode him--he had three little +pals. They was Miss Vincent, the Kid and yours in the faith. Miss +Vincent claimed that after all he was only a boy which would grow out +of lyin', if give enough time, and it was a outrage the way everybody +picked on him. The Kid said we couldn't all be perfect, and Miss +Vincent would give him back his presents if he laid off Harold. _My_ +excuse for not shootin' Harold was that I liked one thing about him, +and that was the way he hung on, no matter how they was breakin' for +him. He was no good all over, but he wouldn't _quit_ and any guy that +could stand up under punishment like he did is worth a cheer any +time--and sometimes a bet! + +I thought I'd brighten his life by tellin' him how he stood with the +three of us. I pictured him goin' down on his knees and thankin' me +with tears in his eyes, when I said that we was with him to the bitter +end. He must have had rheumatism or a pair of charley horses, because +he failed to do any kneelin' where I could see it, and his eyes was as +dry as the middle of Maine. Instead of that, he took me for ten bucks +and said the news was no surprise to him. He didn't see how Miss +Vincent could miss likin' him, because he had been a assassin with the +women from birth. As for the Kid, well, it was common talk that +Scanlan was afraid of him, and I was nothin' but a sure-thing player +which knowed he was a winner and stuck, hopin' I'd cash. + +Could you tie Harold? + +Van Aylstyne, the guy that committed the scenarios, went out one night +to get some atmosphere for a thriller at Montana Joe's. He got the +atmosphere O.K., bringin' most of it back on his breath and the Kid +asked him to stick out his tongue so he could see was they any revenue +stamps on it. In the mornin' he grabbed a container of ice water and a +pen and dashed off a atrocity in five reels based on what atmosphere of +Montana Joe's that was still with him. He called the thing "The End of +the World!" Potts says the title alone sounded good enough to him to +remove the bumpers from his bankroll without lookin' further, addin', +in a loud aside, that if the plot wasn't a knockout, Van Aylstyne could +change the title to "The End of My Job!" De Vronde, the popular +heart-breaker, is given the lead opposite Miss Vincent, and, of course, +Kid Scanlan is to be dragged in as a special feature. Harold has +hypnotised Genaro into lettin' him take off a "enter with others" in +the first reel. Everything was ready to have the cameras pointed at +it, when somethin' come along that balled it all up. + +Her name was Gladys O'Hara. + +Gladys was no ravin' beauty and I heard her say "ain't it" twice, but +she was one of them dames that the first flash you get at 'em you +wonder are they still enforcin' the law against mashers! She had a +wonderful complexion and although if you looked close you could see she +had give nature a helpin' hand, she did the retouchin' so well that you +was glad she had. She had one of the latest model, twin-six figures +and she dressed with the idea of givin' the natives a treat, even if +she was takin' chances on pneumonia. Gladys was the kind of dame that +starts the arguments in the newspapers on what is our offices comin' +to, look how them stenographers dress! + +When J. Harold Cuthbert met Gladys, she had got as far as bein' a +saleslady in the Busy Bee, Frisco. She could have beat that with her +eyes closed, but Gladys kept hers open and, bein' a female wise guy, +she knew who to eat lunch with and who to say, "I don't get you!" +to--which is a art! As a result, she had never got no further than +sellin' shirtwaists and had her first home to break up. She never +advanced beyond that counter--up or down! Many a necktie salesman had +flashed Gladys and gone right out to buy the tickets, before he even +asked her would she look over a show, windin' up by throwin' 'em away +and tellin' her what a sweet old woman his mother was and how strong he +was for his own gas meter. That was Gladys. She looked like what she +wasn't, and she fooled 'em all. + +All but Harold! + +I found Gladys very easy to look at myself, and I helped the Sante Fe +over a tough year by runnin' over to Frisco to the Busy Bee whenever I +could get away. It took me a short month to find out that I had the +same chance of winnin' out as I'd have of gettin' elected King of +Montenegro by acclamation, because Harold had been there first and got +in his deadly work. + +I was standin' in the next aisle to where Gladys held forth, one +afternoon, waitin' for a couple of fatheads to call it a day and move +away from the counter, when along comes Harold. As usual, he was all +dressed up like a horse, with the even fare back to Film City in them +one-way pockets of his. He butts right into the conversation, and I +nearly fainted when he passes a box of candy over to Gladys. Then I +seen the label on the package, and I revived, because it was one of a +dozen that some simp had sent Miss Vincent and in order to please the +Kid she had give 'em all away. Harold had brought his all the way over +to Frisco on a ticket furnished by the Maudlin Movin' Picture Company, +which sent him over for props. + +Well, Harold gets warmed up and in a minute he's press agentin' himself +at the rate of fifty-five words a minute--I clocked him! He tells +Gladys he's bein' _starred_ in "The End of the World" and the amount of +money they're payin' him would startle Europe, if it ever got out. He +claims he made 'em all faint at the rehearsals and offers from other +companies is comin' in so fast that he's got a charley horse on his +thumb from openin' telegrams. From that he works into the fact that +after the picture is made he's gonna run around Europe--that's just the +way he said it, "Run around Europe!" Oh, boy!--that bein' the way he +usually spent his vacations. When Gladys staggers over to wait on a +customer, Harold charges himself up again and when she comes back he's +off to a runnin' start. He remarks that his father has just made a +killin' in Wall Street that has caused Rockefeller to weep and gnash +his teeth and that the last affair his mother give at Newport got four +columns on the front page, although the mayor of the town had been shot +the same afternoon. + +Gladys takes this all in with her mouth as open as Kelly pool and her +eyes half closed and dreamy like she was dyin' happy. + +When Harold put on the brakes and eased up, she throwed him a look that +I would have walloped Dempsey for. Harold says he must go, because the +picture would be ruined if he wasn't there to direct it, and Gladys +holds out a tremblin' hand. Then Harold plays his ace--he takes off +his hat, bows, kisses that hand and blows. + +When I seen Gladys deliberately walk back of the wrappin' booth, put +her hand to her lips and kiss it herself--I pulled my hat down over my +ears and went back to Film City. + +The next mornin' they begin work on the first reel of "The End of the +World," and Harold had a field day at bein' rotten. He got in +everybody's way, ruined twenty feet of film by firin' off a cannon at +the wrong time and made Genaro hysterical by gettin' caught in a papier +mache tower and pullin' it down. Not content with that, he goes back +of a interior to try out one of the Kid's cigarettes and by simply +flickin' the thing into a can of kerosene he set the Maudlin Movin' +Picture Company back about five hundred bucks. + +They run him out of the picture, and he went, yellin' that it would be +a farce without him in it. + +About four o'clock me and the Kid is trottin' along the road outside of +Film City like we did every day so's Scanlan could keep in condition, +when we all but fell over Harold. He's sittin' on a rock and gazin' +off very sad in the general direction of New York. His dashin', +smashin', soft hat was yanked down over his home-breakin' face, and his +dimpled chin was buried in his lily white hands. He looked like a guy +that has worked twenty-seven years inventin' a new steamboat and then +seen it sink the first time he tried it out. + +The Kid runs over and slaps him on the back just hard enough to make +his hat fall off. + +"Cheer up, Cutey!" pipes Scanlan. "They can't hang a guy for tryin'!" + +Harold retrieves his hat, smoothes it out carefully and lets loose the +gloomiest sigh I ever heard in my life. + +"Have you a cigarette?" he asks sadly. + +The Kid pulls out a deck, and Harold takes two, droppin' one in his +pocket. + +"Alas!" he remarks, strikin' a match on my shoe. "Alas!" + +"When can the body be seen?" asks Scanlan. "And is it a church funeral +or will they pull it off at the house?" + +"This is no time for levity," mutters Harold. "I'm ruined!" + +"I only got ten bucks with me," the Kid tells him, "but I'll part +with--" + +"Poof!" sneers Harold, wavin' his hands like a head waiter. "Money! I +am not in need of that. Why, my father--" He breaks off to take the +bill from the Kid's hand and shove it in his pocket. "Rather than +offend you!" he explains. "No," he goes on, "this is a more serious +matter than money. I--" He flicks away the cigarette, jumps up off +the rock and gives us both the up and down. "I am going to take you +two into my confidence," he says, "and perhaps you will help me." + +"Go on!" encourages the Kid. "I'm all worked up--shoot it!" + +"Well, then," says Harold, with the air of a guy pleadin' guilty to +save his old father. "In the first place, my name is not J. Harold +Cuthbert!" + +There was no answer from us, and Harold seemed peeved because we had +not collapsed at his confession. + +"What is it?" I asks, when the silence begin to hurt the ears. + +"Trout!" pipes Harold, bitterly. "Joe Trout!" + +"Yeh?" says the Kid. "Well, what's the matter with that? What did you +can it for?" + +"Ha, ha!" hisses Harold, with a "curse you!" giggle. "Where could a +man get with a name like _that_?" + +"In the aquarium!" yells the Kid. "I knew you'd fall!" + +Harold shakes his head and blows himself to another sigh. + +"Imagine a moving picture leading man named Trout!" he goes on. "I +changed my name as a sacrifice to the movies, for--" + +"Just a minute!" I butts in. "On the level now, where _did_ you get +your movin' picture experience?" + +"As assistant bookkeeper in a grocery store!" he answers. "Now you +have it!" + +"But you said your father was a big man in Wall Street!" I busts out. + +"He is!" answers Harold, lookin' over at the Santa Fe. "They don't +come any bigger. He's a traffic policeman at the corner of Broadway +and Wall Street and stands six foot four in his socks!" + +"Sweet Cookie!" shouts the Kid, and falls off the rock. + +When we recover from that, Harold has smoked the other cigarette, and +he nods for my box. Then he asks us do we want to hear the rest. + +"If you don't tell it," says the Kid, "you'll never leave here alive! +Hurry up, I'm dyin' to hear it!" + +"Well," says the ex-J. Harold Cuthbert, "I am about to be married and +at the eleventh hour Nemesis has gripped me. I told my fiancee that I +was being featured in 'The End of the World' and that it would be +exceedingly easy for me to get _her_ a part in the picture--she having +expressed a desire to that effect at various times. She will be here +within the hour to watch me being filmed and to hold me to my promise +to place her as leading woman opposite me." He stops and moans. +"Gentlemen," he goes on, "picture for yourself the contretemps when she +finds I am nothing but a super and that Genaro wouldn't give Sarah +Bernhardt a job on a recommendation from me! My romance will be +shattered, and the--the humiliation will kill me!" + +There was a heavy silence for a minute, and then the Kid whistles. + +"Well, pal," he says, "you have certainly balled things up a few, +haven't you?" + +Joe Trout just let loose another moan. + +"Gimme one of them good cigarettes!" pipes the Kid to me. He lights it +and looks over at friend Joe. "The first thing," he says, puffin' +away; "the first thing, is this--just how _much_ do you think of this +dame, all jokes aside?" + +Joe turns around and straightens up, for once in his life lookin' like +the real thing. + +"I love her!" he says. That was all--but the way he pulled it was a +plenty! + +The Kid grunts and tosses away the pill. Then he walks over to Joe and +slaps him on the back. + +"Listen!" he says. "You ain't a bad guy at that. I'm gonna give you +somethin' I never took in my life--advice! Why don't you lay off lyin' +about yourself, kid? Why don't you can that four-flush thing?" + +The effect of them simple words on Joe was remarkable. He swung around +on us so quick that we both ducked, thinkin' he was comin' back with a +wallop--but his hands was sunk so deep in his coat pockets they liked +to pushed through the linin' and his face was as hard and white as an +iceberg. + +"Because!" he shoots out through his teeth. "_Because I can't_!" + +Y'know the change was so sudden, I remember lettin' out a little +nervous laugh, and then sidesteppin' a vicious left the Kid sent at me. +Scanlan had turned as serious as the other guy. + +"What d'ye mean, you _can't_?" he says, grabbin' Joe by the arm and +holdin' him fast. Joe's face showed how hard he was fightin' to keep +from fallin' apart. + +"You won't understand!" he answers in a hard voice. "But I'll tell +you. The thing has grown upon me until I cannot shake it off! I guess +I was born a liar and probably four-flushed my nurse when I was three +days old. When I was a boy, my incessant lying, although it harmed no +one but myself, kept me in countless scrapes. As I grew older, the +habit grew stronger and I lost girls, jobs, friends and opportunities +with breath-taking rapidity. Time after time I have sworn to rid +myself of the thing and speak nothing but the undiluted truth, and the +first time I open my mouth I find myself unconsciously telling the most +astounding falsehoods about myself with an ease that nauseates me!" He +tore himself loose from the Kid and kicked a innocent tomato can down +the canyon. "I know I'm nothing but a big four-flusher," he winds up, +"and I can't help it!" + +Right then and there I warmed up to Joe Trout like I never had before. +After all, Miss Vincent had the right dope--he was nothin' but a big +kid at that, and any guy that will come right out in public and admit +he's a false alarm, deserves credit! + +"Well," he says after a minute, "I suppose you're both through with me +now, eh?" + +"Do I look like a quitter?" demands the Kid. + +"I'm still here, ain't I?" I chimes in. + +Joe coughs and took hold of our hands. + +"Thanks!" he mutters. "And now---" + +"Listen!" interrupts the Kid. "I got the whole thing doped out. When +is this dame of yours due to hit Film City?" + +"She'll be here on that one o'clock train," moans Joe. + +"Fine!" says the Kid. "Now get this! De Vronde is supposed to do a +fall from a horse in 'The End of the World' and the big yellow bum +won't do it. They're lookin' for some guy that will take his place, +just for that one flash, see? Now suppose I fix it so you get that +chance and when the dame comes on, there you are playin' the lead as +far as she can see, in the best part of the frolic. How's that?" + +I thought Joe was gonna kiss him! + +"I'll never forget it!" he hollers. "You have saved my life! What can +I do to repay you?" + +"Stop four-flushing," comes back the Kid, "and be on the level!" + +"I'll do it, if it kills me!" promises Joe--and I don't know whether he +meant the fall or the other. + +"Can you ride a horse?" the Kid asks him as we start back. + +"Can _I_ ride a horse?" repeats Joe, stoppin' short. "What a question! +Why at home I was the champion--" + +"Now, now!" butts in the Kid. "There you go again!" + +"Pardon me!" says Joe, gettin' red--and he quits! + +Well, the Kid fixed it all right, so's Joe could double for De Vronde +in that one place where he did the fall. I don't know how he did it +any more than I know how Edison come to think of the phonograph, but he +did! All my suspicions as to who the dame was come true when Gladys +hops off the one o'clock train that afternoon. I seen her talkin' to +Eddie Duke near the African Desert, and I immediately went scoutin' +around for Joe, because Eddie liked him the same way the brewers is +infatuated with the Anti-Saloon League and I knowed if Eddie got a +chance to harpoon Joe with Gladys, he'd do that thing. + +About half a hour later, Genaro asks me to go over and find Potts, +because they're ready to start shootin' the picture and when I got near +the hotel I seen a couple of people blockin' the little narrow passage +in back of it. They was Gladys O'Hara and Joe Trout and when I got +close up I heard Joseph talkin'. He was goin' like a house on fire and +his little old lyin' apparatus was hittin' on all cylinders and runnin' +smooth without a break. He explains to Gladys that he went on only in +the important part of the picture which she would see in a minute, and +that De Vronde was only one of the cheap help who played the part while +_he_ was restin' for the big scene. As soon as that come up--and he +said the whole picture was built around it--they give De Vronde the +gate and in went the darin' Joe. + +He was all dressed up in a Stetson hat, a cute little yellow silk +handkerchief twisted around his manly neck and more chaps than any cow +puncher ever wore on his legs outside of a movie. He looked like what +he'd liked to have been. + +"--and not only that," he winds up, "but they are going to feature my +name on all the advertising for the picture!" + +"Is that all?" asks Gladys in a queer little voice. + +Joe looked surprised. I guess it was the first time anybody had asked +for more! + +"Well--no!" he starts off again briskly. "Of course, I am--" + +"Wait!" says Gladys, grabbin' his arm. "Don't tell me any more lies! +They are not featuring you in this or any other picture! You are not +the leading man, you are only a super! Your father is not a +millionaire and you cannot get me a job with the Maudlin Moving Picture +Company! You're simply a big four-flusher and that lets you out!" + +Say! On the level, I thought Joe was gonna pass away on his feet! If +I was give to faintin', I'd have been stretched out cold, myself. He +got white and then he got red, then he got white again and red again +for fully a minute. He tried eighteen times by actual count to say +something but that well known tongue of his had laid down at last and +quit! He couldn't even raise a whisper. + +"I knew you were four-flushin' the first time you started to hand me +that stuff!" goes on Gladys, sweetly. "I happen to know the folks +here, includin' the leadin' man, De Vronde. He was hangin' around that +shirtwaist counter before you knew whether they made pictures here or +sponge cake. Also, some of your friends come over from time to time +and tipped me off about you, so that I was all set when you started!" + +Joe whirls around on her at that, and although this bird had beat me to +the wire with Gladys, I felt sorry for him right then. The poor kid +was hangin' on the ropes waitin' for somebody to throw in the sponge. + +"If you knew all that," he says, kinda choked, "why--why did you let me +come over and continue to--to mislead you?" + +Gladys coughs and places three or four stray hairs exactly back of her +little white ear, gazin' at her wrist watch like it's the first time +she ever seen one, and she's wonderin' can it really go. The big boob +stands there lookin' at her and the chance of a couple of lifetimes is +slippin' away. What? Say, listen! I don't know much about +women--fighters is my line--but there was a look on Gladys's face that +I'd seen Genaro work two hours one time to put on Miss Vincent's when +they was takin' a big picture. So you can figure she wasn't +registerin' hate! + +"Well, why?" demands Joe again. + +"This stuff is all new to me," says Gladys, with a sigh, "but I guess +I've got to do it!" She gazes at the ground and gets kinda red. "It +was not your conversation that made the hit with me!" she winds up +softly. + +"I'm afraid I don't understand," pipes Senseless Joe. + +"Heavens!" remarks Gladys. "There's enough concrete between your neck +and your hat to build a bridge over the bay! I can safely say you're +the first man I ever proposed to, but somebody's got to do it and I +guess I'm the goat!" + +"What!" screams Joe, comin' to life at last. +"You--you--forgive--you--" The poor simp gets all excited and once +again he can't talk and--I don't blame him. You never seen Gladys, and +you don't know how she looked right then! + +"Say!" says Gladys. "Am I bein' kidded or--" + +Joe might have been a tramp as a movie lover, but take it from me, as +the real thing he was no slouch! I hadda stand there and watch it, +because I couldn't get past till they got away and if they'd ever seen +me, I guess Joe would have bought a gun. Finally, they break, Gladys +pushin' Joe away and holdin' him off. + +"You've got to promise me you'll stop lyin' and four-flushin'!" she +tells him. "Tell the truth and don't kid yourself that you'd have been +President, if you hadn't been jobbed. That stuff is poor and will get +you nowheres. Make good and you won't have to tell anybody about +it--it'll be in the papers! As far as I can see, the best thing about +you right now is ME! If you can't get over with _that_, I'll see that +you do!" + +"We'll get married to-night!" yelps Joe. "There's a minister in Film +City and--" + +"Don't crowd me!" interrupts Gladys, lettin' herself be kissed. "Do +you promise?" + +"Anything!" grins Joe. + +"Just what _are_ you supposed to do in this picture?" she asks him. + +"Fall off a horse!" says Joe. + +"Is that all?" asks Gladys. + +Joe nods. + +"Well," Gladys tells him, "you won't do it! I don't want no crippled +bridegroom at my weddin'. Now listen to me! If you could _write_ that +stuff you've been wastin' on the air around here, you ought to make a +pretty good press agent. Mr. Potts, the man who owns the company and +the fellow you or your father _never_ palled around with, has a man on +his payroll named Struther. He's head of what they call the publicity +department, it says so on ten of his cards I have. He once claimed +he'd do anything for me in such a loud voice that the floorwalker had +to speak to him. I'm goin' over to the office now and ask him to give +you a job back in New York. To be perfectly truthful with you, that's +what I came over here for to-day in the first place!" + +"But--but," stammers Joe. "I can't have you asking favors for me, +Gladys, and--and, why New York?" + +"Because," she says, "that's where I come from, and I want to look at +it again--I'm simply crazy to yell down a dumbwaiter and throw a +quarter in my own gas meter!" + +Well--that's about all. They had a big weddin' right in the middle of +Film City and everybody sent in and bought 'em a present. Potts got a +flash at Gladys, moans regretfully and has the ceremony filmed, givin' +the result to Joe as a special gift. Of course Gladys got Joe that +job. That dame could have got frankfurters and sourkraut in Buckingham +Palace! Before they left for New York, I tried Joe out. + +"It'll be terrible here, when you're gone!" I says, "because you know +more about makin' movies than Rockefeller does about oil." + +Joe shakes his head and grins. + +"No!" he says. "I guess I don't know much about anything!" + +I pronounced him cured to myself and shook his hand. The Kid went to +the train with him and his bride. I didn't feel up to seein' that guy +goin' away with Gladys. + +I met the Kid as he was comin' up from the railroad station, and seein' +he was laughin', I asked him if the happy pair got off all right. + +"Yeh!" he says. "Everything went fine. Me and Miss Vincent waited +till the train was pullin' out. Gladys was inside and Joe was standin' +on the steps of the Pullman, talkin'. Just before the thing pulled +out, I shook Joe's hand and said I hoped he got past in New York, +because it was a big burg and a tough one for losers." The Kid stops +and laughs some more. + +"Well," I says, "what's the joke?" + +"Sweet Papa!" says the Kid, wipin' his eyes. "Joe's face lights all up +and that old glitter comes back in his eyes! + +"'Make good?' he yells to me. 'Well, I ought to make good--my father +owns half the town, and I was the biggest thing in it when I left!'" + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +"EXIT, LAUGHING" + +Every time I see one of them big, fat, dignified guys that looks like +they have laid somebody eight to five they can go through life without +smilin' once, I wonder just how much they'd give in American money to +be able to put on a suit of pink pajamas and walk down Fifth Avenue +some crowded afternoon, leadin' a green elephant by a string! + +I'll bet they's many a bank president, brigadier-general and what not, +that would part with their right eye if they could only force +themselves to let down for five minutes, can this dignity thing and +give a imitation of what a movie comedian thinks is humor. The best +proof of this is that the first chance any of them birds gets--_that's +just what they do_! + +Y'know, you've seen in the papers lots of times where Archibald Van +Hesterfeld has been among the starters in the bazaar for the relief of +the heat prostration victims in Iceland, or words to that effect. Or, +if it wasn't Archibald it might have been General Galumpus or Commodore +Fedink--or all of them. Away down at the bottom of the page, if it's a +copy of the Succotash Crossing _Bugle_, or right up in the headlines, +if it's a big town sheet, after readin' what dignity and so forth the +"distinguished guests lent to the affair," you'll see that at midnight +they was large doin's on the dance floor. It is even bein' whispered +around that the general, commodore or governor fox-trotted with the +girls from the Follies and one-stepped with such of the fair sex as +cared practically nothin' for the neighbors. Along about the time the +milkman was sayin', "Well, here's another day!", the well known +distinguished guests was actin' like a guy who knows a Harvard man +does, after they have beat Yale or vice versa. + +One of them birds acts so dignified at the office all day that not even +the most darin' of his clerks would _think_ of a joke in the same room +with him. He'll breeze home on baby's birthday with a trick lion or a +jumpin' jack for the kid, and spend three or four hours on the +dinin'-room floor makin' it go, while friend infant wishes to Heaven +father would call it a day and commence readin' the papers, so's _he_ +could toy with it for a while. + +The rest of the family stands around and tells each other that the old +man must have a good heart at that, because look how he goes out of his +way to amuse the baby. Father growls up at 'em and prays that they'll +all go to bed, includin' the one that's just learnin' to walk, so's he +can be let alone to really enjoy the thing himself! + +We're all babies at heart, and the reason most of us don't admit it and +give in to our childish desires is because we're afraid the people in +the next flat will think we're nutty or have found a way to beat +prohibition. Now and then some extry brave guy sneers at the neighbors +and lets himself loose, and shortly afterward a committee is appointed +to look after his money. Finally, he is shipped f.o.b. to some +sanitarium where a passin' nod from the head doctor is listed at +twenty-five bucks and where the victim is fed strange foods and tucked +in bed at the devilish hour of nine. + +This is naturally very discouragin' to the rest of us which was about +to tear loose ourselves, so we sigh, growl at the universe--and lay off! + +I feel sorry for the guys that have to have their comedy served up to +them in disguise, like lobster a la Newburg, for instance. These birds +claim they like stuff you got to study for five minutes before you get +it, and then at a given signal you pull a nice lady-like laugh, the +while remarkin', "How subtle!" You don't want to cackle too loud or +the people across the hall will get the idea that you're a tribe of +lowbrows, and it'll get said around that your great-grandfather was +known to go in hysterics over the funny sheet of the Sunday papers! + +They think the vaudeville or movie cut-up that does the funny falls is +a vulgar lunatic who ought to be in jail, and their idea of the height +of humor is the way a iceman pronounces decollete, or somethin' like +that. + +I like my own comedy straight! I want it to wallop me right on the +laugher, so's I can get it the first time and giggle myself sick. I'm +extry strong for the loud and common guffaw, and I claim that because I +go into hysterics over the fat-man-on-the-banana-peel stuff, it don't +prove that I'm a heavy drinker, beat my wife and will probably wind up +in jail. On general principles I'm infatuated with the bird that can +make me laugh, and I don't care how he does it as long as he makes +good. I care not whether he laughs with me or for me, as long as +they's a snicker in there somewheres. I can even stand him laughin' at +me, because, if his stuff is funny enough--I'll laugh too! + +No guy who can look around him, no matter how things is breakin' for +him and see somethin' to laugh at as the mob goes by, is beat. That +bird is just gettin' ready to pull a new punch from somewheres and he's +the baby you want to watch! The guy that can't see nothin' funny in +life, whether he's eight or eighty, is through! + +Me and Kid Scanlan saved one of them guys. His name was Jason Van Ness. + +I was sittin' in Genaro's office one afternoon about seven or eight +months after me and the Kid had decided to give the movies a boost, +when the door opens and in comes a guy which at first glance I figured +must at least be the governor of the state. He's there with a cane, a +high hat and the general makeup of a Wall Street broker in a play where +he won't forgive his son for marryin' the ingenue. Also, he's built +all over like a heavyweight champ, except his face, the same runnin' to +the dignified lines of the bloodhounds, them big, flabby, over-lappin' +jaws--get me? + +"I say, old chap--are you Mister Genaro?" he pipes. + +"Nope!" I says. "I'm Johnny Green, manager of Kid Scanlan, +welterweight champion of the world." + +"Really!" he remarks. + +"Well," I says, "d'ye wanna see the contract or will we go over to a +notary so's I can swear to it?" + +At that he frowns and waves a finger at me. + +"Come, my man," he says, "no chaffing now! You may tell Mister Genaro +I have arrived! Of course you know who I am?" + +That "my man!" thing was a trifle more than I could take! I throws my +feet up on Genaro's desk and give this guy a long, careless once over, +puttin' everything I had on the stare. + +"I ain't got no more idea who you are," I tells him finally, "than a +oyster has of roller-skatin'. Who are you? I never seen _your_ face +on no postage stamps!" + +"Oh, I say!" he busts out, registerin' wild indignation. "Don't you +ever read the newspapers?" + +"Sure!" I says. "But then, escapin' convicts don't get much space in +'em any more! At that, I think I know you now, though." + +"I should think you jolly well would!" he comes back, calmin' down +some. "Why--" + +"Yes!" I goes on. "I got you. I've met so many from your lodge it's +funny I didn't recognize the high signs right away. You're a big, +tinhorn four-flusher!" + +Sweet Cookie! + +His face did a Georgie Cohan, gettin' red, white and blue by turns, and +he pawed the air, gaspin' for breath like a fat piano mover. Before he +can get set for a comeback, they's a loud crash outside the door, +followed by the well known dull thud. In another minute Kid Scanlan +walks in, draggin' somethin' after him by the back of the neck. + +"Look what _I_ found!" chirps the Kid, droppin' the thing on the floor. + +"By Jove!" squeals the big guy. "He's killed my dresser!" + +I got up from the chair and took a flash. Sure enough, the thing the +Kid had dragged in was a human bein'. He was a long, lean guy, lookin' +like he'd been over here about long enough to tell the judge that +George Washington discovered America, was president now and stopped the +Civil War, and can he please have his first papers, so's he can vote +against suffrage. + +His one good eye opens and examines the room. Then he hops off the +floor, shoots a hand inside his pocket and yanks it out with a thing +that looked like a undeveloped spear. + +"_Sapristi_!" he remarks loudly--and makes a dive at the Kid. + +The chair I throwed at him was wasted, because Scanlan stepped aside +and flattened the assassin with a left hook to the jaw. The big guy +gives one yell and rushes out of the office. + +"Who's your friend?" I asks the Kid, pointin' to the sleepin' beauty on +the floor. + +The Kid glares down at the body and prods it with his foot. + +"The big stiff!" he says. "I should have murdered him!" + +"Well," I tells him soothin'ly, "it ain't too late yet! What started +the melee?" + +He sits on the side of the desk and lights a cigarette. + +"This hick is standin' outside here," he begins, "when I come along as +peaceful as the Swiss navy. I see right away he's a Eyetalian, and I'm +anxious to show him I can talk his chatter so--" + +"Wait a minute!" I butts in. "Since when have _you_ been able to speak +Eyetalian?" + +"What?" he snorts. "Another one, eh? Ain't Miss Vincent been teachin' +me English, French, Eyetalian and what to do with the oyster fork?" + +"Is she?" I comes back. "That's all new to me. The last flash I got +you was just takin' up how to enter a room!" + +"Well, I'm past that," he explains, "and next week I begin on manners. +Anyhow, I see this boob standin' there, and I says to myself, here's a +chance to pull a little Eyetalian. So with that I stands in front of +him and says, '_Bomb Germo, Senorita--a vostrican salute_!'" + +The Kid stops and bangs his fist down on the table. + +"What d'ye think the big hick said?" he asks me. + +I passed. + +"He grins at me, waggles his shoulders and pipes, '_No spika da +Engleesh_!" + +"'What d'ye mean _English_!' I says. 'That ain't English, that's +Eyetalian, Stupid! _Bomb Germo Senorita_!' + +"'No spika da Engleesh,' he pipes again. + +"I grabs him by the shoulder and swing him around. + +"'What part of Italy was you born in?' I inquires. 'Hoboken?' + +"'No spika da Engleesh!' he grins. + +"By this time my goat was runnin' around wild. I grabbed his other +shoulder and looked him in the eye. + +"'I'll give you one more chance,' I says; 'cut the comedy now and come +through or you're gonna have some bad luck. _Bomb Germo Senorita_!' + +"'No spika da Engleesh!' he says. + +"With that, havin' took all a human bein' could stand, I let him fall!" + +"Just a minute!" I says, as Scanlan starts for the door. "I want to +ask you a question about the Eyetalian language, as long as you know so +much about it. Just what does _Bomb Germo_ mean?" + +The Kid stops and scratches his chin. + +"To tell you the truth," he admits, "I don't know!" + +At that the door opens and in blows Genaro with the big dignified guy +and "Bomb Germo" arises from the floor again, rubbin' the back of his +head. + +"What's a mat?" asks Genaro, lookin' very excited from me to the Kid. +"Why you knock him down Meester Van Ness bureau?" + +"Dresser!" corrects Van Ness, puttin' a round piece of glass over one +eye and glarin' at us. + +"'Scuse a me!" pipes Genaro, makin' a bow. "Why you knock him down +Meester Van Ness dresser?" + +The Kid growls at "Bomb Germo" who hisses back at him like a snake and +backs out of range of that left. + +"I asked him '_Bomb Germo_,'" explains Scanlan, "and he started to kid +me!" + +"_Bomb Germo_? _Bomb Germo_?" repeats Genaro. "What is she that _Bomb +Germo_?" + +Scanlan grunts at him in disgust. + +"You're a fine Eyetalian, you are!" he snorts. "I'll bet you and that +other guy don't know whether spaghetti is a outfielder or a race horse!" + +Van Ness removes the one-cylinder eyeglass for a minute and cleans it +with his "for display only" handkerchief. + +"Maybe," he remarks. "Maybe the fellow means to say '_Buona Juerno_!'" + +"Oh!" grins Genaro. "_Si_! He'sa mean 'Good morning!' No?" + +"Yes!" says the Kid. "Correct! Step to the head of the class. I told +that to Stupid there and he says, 'No spika da Engleesh!'" + +"Well," chirps Genaro, pattin' the Kid on the back, "let's all be the +friend now, no? What's the use hava the fight?" He turns to Van Ness +and takes his hand, "Meester Van Ness," he goes on, "thisa Meester Kid +Scanlan. He'sa tougha nut--but nica fel'. He'sa fighting champion of +the world. He'sa taka his fista _so_," he stops and waves his arms +around, "everybody she'sa falla down!" He swings around on the Kid. +"Meester Kid Scanlan," he pants, "thisa Meester Van Ness. He'sa greata +bigga actor. Oh, of the A numbera seven!" + +"Yeh?" says the Kid, registerin' "I-should-worry!" and gazin' over at +"Bomb Germo." "Well, that ain't my fault, is it? Who's the other guy?" + +"Guy?" says Genaro. "Whata guy?" + +"The phoney wop!" pipes the Kid, pointin' to the long, thin bird. + +"Oh, heem!" snorts Genaro, snappin' his fingers. "He'sa nobody. Justa +what you call the dresser for the granda Meester Van Ness." + +"He's got a name, ain't he?" asks the Kid. + +"Joosta Tony," answers Genaro. + +"Good enough!" comes back Scanlan, walking across the room. "Hey, +Tony!" he says. "They tell me you claim to be a Eyetalian." + +"That'sa right!" pipes Tony, forgettin' himself and scowlin'. + +"Well," goes on the Kid. "_Bomb Germo_!" + +"No spika da Engleesh!" frowns Tony, waggling his shoulders. + +"You big stiff!" roars the Kid, gettin' red in the face. "You won't +speak nothin' when I get done toyin' with that odd face of yours!" + +He makes a dive for Tony, but Genaro grabs him. + +"Joosta one minoote!" pants Genaro. "It'sa maka me laugh! Ho, ho, I +teenk I getta one, two hysterics! Fighting champion of the world, +he'sa getta mad at the dresser!" + +"By Jove!" pants Van Ness, givin' the Kid the up and down through the +trick eyeglass. "By Jove! I told Tony to converse with no one while +we were here. What does this--this person mean by buffeting him about? +I thought this company was composed of ladies and gentlemen, not +stevedores and longshoremen!" + +"Don't get gay, Fatty!" yells the Kid, strugglin' with Genaro. "I put +bigger actors than _you_ to sleep. I gotta left hand that's got +morphine lookin' like a alarm clock!" + +"Waita, waita!" shrieks Genaro. "We musta all be the friend. Joosta +waita when you and Meester Van Ness get better acquainta you'll be +joosta like--" + +"Germany and England!" butts in the Kid, tearin' himself away. "Come +on!" he tells me. "Let's get away from here," he glares at Van Ness +and Tony, "before certain parties makes any more cracks! If they +do--I'll make 'em look like models for The Dyin' Gladiator!" + +"Don'ta minda heem!" whispers Genaro to Van Ness, as we get over to the +door. "He'sa fina fel'. He'sa no hurta the _bambino_--what you call +ba-bee. Gotta taka bag of the salts with everything he'sa say. Gotta +lots temperament!" + +"A ruffian, _I_ should say!" remarks Van Ness loudly. + +"Bigga bunka!" hisses Tony. + +"What?" roars the Kid, swingin' around on them. + +"Good day, sir!" pipes Van Ness, steppin' back of the desk. + +"No spika da Engleesh!" says Tony, steppin' in back of his boss. + +I yanked the Kid outside before violence was had by all. + +Jason Van Ness stayed at Film City for about two months. Durin' that +time he made as many friends as the ex-Kaiser would pick up in Paris. +They was two reasons for this, the first bein' that he was the most +dignified and solemn guy I ever seen in my life. Stories that would +put a victim of lockjaw in hysterics couldn't coax a snicker from that +undertaker's face of his which would have made a supreme court justice +look like a clown. In fact, if he'd been a judge and I ever come up +before him, I would have took one flash at that face and asked him to +gimme life and let it go at that! His favorite smokin'-room story was +what causes spots on the sun or somethin' equally excitin', and pretty +soon they was a standin' offer of a hundred bucks to the first guy that +could make Van Ness laugh! + +Some of the greatest comedians the movies ever seen laid awake nights +and become famous on stunts they pulled off for the sole benefit of Van +Ness--and all he did was to inquire if they was crazy or soused! + +The second reason that Van Ness was as unpopular as snow durin' the +world's series was because he was the greatest actor that ever moaned +for the star's dressin'-room. + +He was brought on to play the lead in one of them early Roman frolics +where the extry people is called "martyrs" and hurled to the practical +lions in the last reel, whilst the emperor raises his hand for the +slaughter to begin, murmurin' "This is the end of a perfect day!" When +Jason Van Ness walked to the middle of the arena, throwed one end of +his cloak over his shoulder, faced the camera and give himself up to +actin'--well, you forgot all his bad habits and thanked Heaven for +lettin' you live to see him! + +That baby was there! + +He was stuck up, he had no friends, he wouldn't laugh, and he had a +trick name and carried a dresser, but, Sweet Papa!--he was _some_ actor! + +The Kid and me stood watchin' him the first time he worked, with our +eyes and mouths as open as a mobile crap tourney. + +"Ain't he a bear?" asks Eddie Duke, comin' up. "That's all two-dollar +stuff he's pullin' there, bo! Y' don't see actin' like that every day, +eh?" + +"Oh, I don't know!" says the Kid, takin' a fresh slant at Van Ness. "I +bet I could give him a battle in Shakespeare, at that! I was a riot in +'Richard the Third,' wasn't I?" + +"Cease!" sneers Duke. "This bird has got them classics layin' down and +rollin' over when he snaps his fingers. Did you ever see him in 'Quo +Vadis'?" + +"No!" says the Kid. "But I seen him in tights when they was--" + +Just then Miss Vincent comes along. She's in the picture with Van +Ness, playin' the beautiful Christian martyr which is tied to the +lion's back in the fourth reel, because she won't quit chantin' "Now I +lay me--" or somethin' like that. After that they throw her to the +panthers with Abe Mendelowitz, another Christian martyr and the guy +that built the scene. She told me that was the story of the thing, and +asked me what I thought of it. Personally, I think them martyrs was a +lot of boobs. If I'd have been there, I would have bent the knee +before them heathen idols and then done my private prayin' elsewhere. +The head martyr might have called me yellah, but no lion would have +broke his fast on me! + +While I'm thinkin' about this, Miss Vincent reminds me that she's +waitin' for my verdict on the thing. The last I heard her say was +about bein' tied to that lion. + +"Well," I says, "I'll tell you. I think it's pretty soft for the lions +myself and--" + +"How are you and Stupid gettin' along?" butts in the Kid, pointin' to +Van Ness and touchin' Miss Vincent's arm. + +She frowns. + +"You mustn't call him Stupid!" she says. "Mister Van Ness is an artist +and a gentleman--and--and right now I want to tell you that I think all +you men are wicked for the way you have been treating him! Here he is +away out here, a stranger in a strange land, and simply because he is +above the vulgar horseplay so popular around here, you ostracize him. +Because his grammar and dress is perfect he is a pariah! Don't you +think he feels that? Isn't he human the same as the rest of you? +Why--why, if he were a woman, all the girls would have helped and +encouraged him and made him welcome in any gathering while he was here. +Don't you think it hurt when you broke up that poker party last night +when he came in? Or when he was deliberately excluded from that +hunting trip by that wretched Eddie Duke? Or any of the--the mean, +petty, little things you have done to him--all of you--since he's been +here? Oh, you men are horrid!" She gathers up her skirts and flashes +Scanlan a look, "I thought _you_, at least, were different!" she +whispers--and trips into the picture! + +For about three minutes the Kid stands lookin' after her without sayin' +a word. He acts like he has stopped one with his chin! + +"The big English stiff!" he busts out finally. "What does he mean by +comin' over here and gettin' me in a jam with my girl? I'll _get_ that +bird, though, believe me!" + +"What are you gonna do?" I says. + +"I'm gonna take that solemn-faced simp back of the African Desert and +give him a chance at the welterweight title!" he snorts. "I'll wallop +that bird till he'll wish he had stayed over in dear old England and--" + +"Stoppa!" comes a voice from the back of us, and we look around into +the muzzles of two automatics. On the other end of them was Tony! + +"I hear everyt'ing!" he snarls, wavin' the guns and glarin' at us. "I +hear everyt'ing!" + +The Kid looks at the guns and coughs, kinda nervous. I was glancin' at +friend Tony, myself. + +"Ain't that nice!" I remarks, feelin' my way carefully. + +"What you mean?" snarls the ex-"No spika da Engleesh." + +"Bein' able to hear everything," I explains, thinkin' to humour him. +"I'll bet right now you're listenin' to a little spicy scandal at some +King's palace, eh?" + +"Don't got funny!" he warns me. + +"Ha! ha!" snickers the Kid. "Where d'ye get that got funny stuff?" + +"What'sa that?" yells Tony, whirlin' on him and shovin' the guns under +his nose. + +The Kid gets pale and shuffles back a few steps. + +"No spika da Engleesh!" he pipes, holdin' up his hand. + +"Pah!" grunts Tony, registerin' disgust. "Me--I laugh at you! All the +tima you talk 'bout Meester Van Ness, I standa righta here with the ear +wide open. You no feexa nobody--maybe Tony he'sa feexa you! I hear +you say you no lika Meester Van Ness because he'sa no laugha. Sure, +he'sa laugha--but not all the tima on the streeta like crazee fel'. +When Meester Van Ness--ah, he'sa granda man--when he'sa wanna laugha, +he'sa go home, to he'sa rooma, shutta the door and standa in the +corner. Then he'sa a laugha ha! ha! ha! ho! ho! ho!--lika that! +That'sa lasta heem all day!" + +"Oh, Lady!" says the Kid, holdin' his side. "Can you tie that?" He +looks over and sees Van Ness in a clinch with Miss Vincent--and son, +you could see the muscles rollin' under his coat sleeves. "Look at the +big, ignorant boob now!" he howls. + +"Ignoranta!" hisses Tony. "Whata you mean, ignoranta? Seven +difference language thisa granda Meester Van Ness he'sa speak! He'sa +teacha everybody--joosta lika wan college!" + +"Why don't you get him to teach you Eyetalian then, Stupid?" sneers the +Kid. "You're a fine thing to luck your way past Ellis Island when you +can't even tell me what _Bomb Germo_ means!" + +"Don't got funny!" warns Tony. "What gooda now for you be fighting +champion for the world, eh? Leetle Tony he'sa standa here calla you +names and what can you do, eh? Nothing--joosta nothing! Champion, eh? +Ha, ha, ha! Don't maka me laugha, Meester Fightaire!" He shoves the +gun in the Kid's face and snarls, "Now!" he says. "Tella Tony you +feela sorry for soaka heem in jaw!" + +The Kid bites his lip and edges in a bit. Right away I got sorry for +Tony! + +"I'm sorry!" sneers Scanlan slowly. "Awful sorry--just thinkin' of it +has got me all broke up. I meant to let you have it on the beak, but +I'll make up for it now!" + +He looks over Tony's shoulder suddenly and yells. "Hey, don't throw +that!" + +If they had rehearsed the act, Tony couldn't have fallen for the plant +any harder. He twists his neck around to look back like the Kid +figured and Scanlan started one from his left ankle. It caught Tony +right on the button--which in English is the point of the chin--and +Tony gives a imitation of a seal. He took a dive! + +While we're takin' him away from his artillery, I look up and there's +Van Ness lookin' down at us and frownin'. He reaches inside that Roman +toga thing he's wearin' and comes out with a round piece of glass which +he balances on one eye. + +"Ah--I say!" he pipes, glarin' at the Kid. "This is getting jolly +annoying, my man. It appears that every time we meet, you have just +committed a murderous assault upon my dresser! Since you are +the--ah--champion fighter of the universe, why do you not joust with +more of its inhabitants and not center your activities upon one who +knows nothing of the art of self-defense?" + +The Kid grunts, takin' away Tony's guns and removin' a couple of them +long banana knives from his clothes. Meanwhile, the daredevil dresser +is showin' no more signs of life than a sleepin' alligator, so I +figured it was about time to pull a little first aid stuff. I turned +him over on his back and took off his coat, grabbin' it by the bottom +and holdin' it up. They was a sudden crash and--Sweet Cookie! A lot +of things fell on the ground, among 'em bein' one set of brass +knuckles, one blackjack, two more guns, a thing that looked like a +bayonet, five boxes of cartridges, a small bottle of nitro-glycerine +and three sticks of dynamite! The last two fell in the folds of the +coat, or we'd all have gone away from there. Tony's master looks at +the layout with his eyes stickin' so far out of his head you could have +knocked 'em off with a cane. + +Scanlan eyes him and laughs. + +"This is the bird which don't know nothin' about self-defense, eh?" he +grins, pointin' to Tony. "Well, if he'd been in Belgium a few years +ago, I bet the Germans would never have got through!" + +"Oh, I say!" gasps Van Ness. "This is a bit of a shock! Why the +fellow is a walking arsenal!" + +"He's more like a sleepin' fort, now!" I says, pointin' to Tony on the +turf. + +"Look at the chances you been takin' havin' a guy like that fasten your +garters and so forth," pipes Scanlan. "You ought to thank us for +exposin' him!" + +Then Tony comes to life and havin' helped him down, the Kid helps him +up. + +"_Sapristi_!" remarks Tony, glarin' at him. "You bigga stiffa! +Sometime Tony he'sa feexa you for dis! Whata you hitta me with?" + +"I think it was a left hook," the Kid tells him, rubbin' his chin, like +he ain't sure. + +"Aha!" snarls Tony. "I know you never hit with your feest sooch a +punch! Don't got funny with me any more! I wanna tella you, you keepa +up knock it down Tony every fiva, tena, fifteen minootes and some time +Tony he'sa got mad! When Tony he'sa got mad--" He stops and makes a +terrible face at me and the Kid, "--when Tony he'sa got mad, something +she'sa gotta fall!--dat'sa all!" + +"Well, you been doin' all the fallin' so far," I says, "and--" + +"Ah--I say!" butts in Van Ness--and Tony sees him for the first time, I +guess, because he shivered and got pale. "I say," he goes on, takin' a +slant at Tony through the trick eyeglass, "just what does this mean, +Antonio? Why are you walking about with this extraordinary collection +of weapons on your person?" He points his finger at the munitions on +the ground, and Tony's eyes follows his. At the same time he makes a +little clickin' noise in his throat and jumps for the pile. + +"Where is she the gooda carbolic acid?" he snarls. "And whosa taka my +eleven incha stiletto?" + +"How dare you ignore my question!" thunders Van Ness. "What are you +doing with all those weapons? Answer me!" + +"'Scuse a me!" says Tony, makin' a bow and takin' off his hat. "I +getta them for my brudda!" + +"Where's your brother?" asks the Kid. "In Russia?" + +"'Sno use _you_ talka to me!" growls Tony, "I no talka back. Sometime +Tony he'sa getta mad and then--" + +"Come, come!" interrupts Van Ness, kinda sharp. "The weapons--what of +them?" + +"'Scuse a me!" bows Tony with another smile. "My brudda he'sa live in +Santa Francisco. He'sa fina fel'--my brudda. He'sa name Joe. He'sa +come this countree five years ago, no fren's, no spika da Engleesh, no +nothing! They putta heem in the basement of the sheepa wit' coupla +thousand other fel' from seventy-six other countree. One fel' say my +Joe he'sa no be able to leava the sheepa at--at--what you call? I +don't know--I teenk maybe Chicago, Pennsylvania, Coney Island--I don't +know joosta now! Anyhow thisa fel' say Joe he'sa no be able to leava +the sheepa wherever he'sa wanna go--eef he'sa got no money, you 'stanna +me? Joe he'sa tank dis kinda fel', say coupla nica prayer for heem and +then everybody she'sa a maka sleepa. Joe he'sa get up and taka four +hundred dollar from thisa nica fel'--whosa sleepa lika he'sa dead--so +Joe he'sa be able to leeva the sheepa! He'sa a smarta fel', eh? +That'sa Joe. He'sa my brudda!" + +"Oh, Lady!" says the Kid. "What was you takin' him the ammunition for?" + +"Don't spika to me!" snorts Tony. "I no answera you! I tella Meester +Van Ness. He'sa my boss. He'sa fina fel', too--joosta lika my brudda!" + +"How dare you!" splutters Van Ness, his face as red as a ale-hound's +nose. "What do you mean by that?" + +"'Scuse a me!" says Tony. "Don't get mad for Tony. No spika da +Engleesh very gooda--maybe I maka meestake! Joe he'sa writa me come +over Santa Francisco queek, because he'sa gotta the trouble wif he'sa +landlord. Disa fel' he'sa a wanta da rent maybe, I don't know, but Joe +he'sa wanta me bring something so he'sa can feex disa fel' nex' time he +come around, you 'stanna me? He say he'sa a bigga fel'--tougha nut! +Yesterday I go out and getta wan gun for Joe. Then I teenk maybe that +ain't enough for poor leetle Joe against thisa bigga stiffa landlord, +so I stoppa drugga store, hardaware, meata store, five, six, sevena +place and get somet'ing for Joe he'sa feex landlord. Then I hear thisa +fel' say he'sa gonna feexa _you_!" Tony swings around and points at +the Kid. "Tony he'sa don't care if thisa bigga stiffa he's a champion +for the world. Tony he's a gotta knifa, gun, dynamite, carbolic acida, +everything for fighta. I talka to heem sweeta and he'sa knocka me down +wit' a hook! While I sleepa on the dirt, somebody she'sa taka my gooda +carbolic acida and stiletto I getta for Joe!" + +"Oh, Lady!" yells the Kid, slappin' me on the back. "This guy is a +riot!" + +"You may go to the hotel, Antonio," says Van Ness, "and await me there. +I am surprised and grieved at your beastly conduct!" + +Tony hands Van Ness a gun and the bottle of nitro-glycerine. + +"Alla right!" he says. "Tony he'sa go. But watcha this two fel' they +wanna feexa you. The little fel' you can shoota--but the bigga stiffa +whosa knocka me down, he'sa needa more than that! Taka thisa bottle +and throw it at heem harda. That'sa blow heem away so far, it taka +four thousand dollar for heem to come back on sheepa, thirda class!" + +Van Ness puts the gun and the nitro in Tony's pocket. + +"Begone, sir!" he says. "I'll jolly well attend to you later!" + +Tony gathers up his junk and throwin' a last glare at me and the Kid, +beats it. + +Van Ness turns to the Kid, stickin' the eyeglass back in the toga. + +"Ah--and now, Scanlan," he says, "will you be good enough to explain +the cause of the--ah--bitter animosity you have for me?" + +The Kid frowns and scratches his head. + +"Somebody has been kiddin' you," he tells him. "I ain't got _nothin'_ +for you! Where d'ye get that animosity thing?" + +Van Ness sighs so hard it like to blowed our hats off. + +"It is beastly plain to me," he says, "that I am about as popular in +Film City as a cloudburst at a picnic! I am snubbed, ridiculed, +vulgarly and subtly insulted! Also I am white and human and--ah--I +must confess it has penetrated my skin. _You_ are particularly bitter +against me--why?" + +The Kid studies him for a minute. + +"Listen!" he answers finally. "Are you on the level with this? D'ye +really wanna know, or are you simply askin' me so's you can pull one of +them witty remarks on the way I answer you--_and get walloped on the +beak_?" + +Van Ness did somethin' then I never seen him do before and only once +afterward. _He grinned_! The Roman toga fell off his shoulders, and +he leans over with his hands on his hips. On the level, his whole face +seemed to change! And then-- + +Oh, boy! + +"Listen, guy!" pipes this big, dignified whatnot. "I'm on the level, +all right and I want the lowdown on this thing, d'ye make me?" (Me and +the Kid nearly went dead on our feet listenin'.) "As for wallopin' me +on the beak, well--you may be welterweight champion out here, but if +you start anything with _me_, I'll remove you from the title, d'ye get +that?" + +Woof! + +The Kid and me falls back against a rock, fightin' for air! + +"Oh, Lady!" whispers the Kid, fannin' himself with his hat. "Did you +hear what I did?" + +"Call me at seven!" I gasps. + +"Well--?" drawls Van Ness, lookin' us over. + +"They's just one thing I'd like to know," murmurs the Kid, wipin' his +forehead with my handkerchief in the excitement. "What part of dear +old England was _you_ born in?" + +Van Ness grins some more. + +"Brooklyn!" he says, jerkin' out the eye glass again and stickin' it on +his eye. "Surely, my man," he goes on, with that old silly stare of +his; "surely you have heard of jolly old Brooklyn--what?" + +"I know it well!" says the Kid. "It's on the wrong end of the bridge! +But where d'ye get the 'my man' thing? And what have you been goin' +around like a Swiss duke or somethin', when it turns out you're only a +roughneck from Brooklyn? You wanna know why you don't belong, and +don't fit in here, eh? Well, you big hick, where d'ye get that Sedate +Sam stuff?" He slaps Van Ness on the arm. "Why in the Hail Columbia +don't you bust out and giggle now and then, hey?" + +"Why don't I?" snarls Van Ness, "Don't you think I'd _like_ to? Don't +you think I would if I could, you boob?" + +"Would if you _could_?" repeats the Kid. "What's the matter--have you +got lockjaw?" + +"No!" roars Van Ness, so sudden that we both sidestepped. "No! Not +lockjaw, worse! _Dignity_!" + +"Have you give the mud baths at Hot Springs a play?" I asks. + +"Stop it!" he sneers. "Cease that small time comedy! I'm the most +dignified person in the world--the undisputed champion! I'm Frowning +Frank and Imposing Ike rolled into one. It hurts me more than it does +you, but I can't help it! I fail to remember the last time I enjoyed a +hearty laugh and I know it will be a darned long space before I'll +snicker again. My laugher has gone unused for so long that it's +atrophied and won't work. I've tried warming it up by going home at +night and guffawing before the mirror, but the result is only a +mirthless giggle--a ghostly chortle! Of course, I wouldn't dare +attempt to laugh in public!" + +"Do what?" asks the Kid. + +"Laugh!" answers Van Ness bitterly. "I can't even let myself think of +doing it--why, it would ruin me! My dignity is all I have. It's my +stock in trade and without it I would lose my income! Were I to unbend +and shatter the air with harmless cachinnation, it would be thought at +once that I had been drinking!" He stopped and sighed some more. "It +began ten years ago," he goes on. "I was playing small parts in a +stock company and one week I was cast for a Roman senator. Being +anxious to make good, I made that noble so dignified that the local +critics dismissed the play with a few paragraphs and gave half a column +to my stately bearing! That started it, and from that time I've played +nothing but Romans, kings, governors, cardinals and similar roles, +calling for my infernal talent in the one direction. Mechanically I +grew to playing them _on and off_, yet all the time within me burns the +desire to do rough and tumble, yes, by Heaven, slapstick comedy! But +alas, I lack the moral courage to throw off the yoke!" + +"Well, Mister Van Ness--" I begins, when the silence begun to hurt, +"I--" + +"Not Van Ness!" he interrupts. "The name is as false as my manner! My +name is Fink, Eddie Fink, and please don't add the Mister. When a lad +I had a nickname, but, alas, I--" + +"What was it?" butts in the Kid. + +He hesitates. + +"Well, it was rather frivolous," he says. "As indeed I was myself--a +happy, carefree youth! The boys called me Foolish--Foolish Fink!" He +throws out his chest like he just realized how he had been honored at +the time. + +Me and the Kid both had a coughin' fit. + +"Let's go over to Montana Bill's," I says, when I thought it was safe +to look up, "and we'll talk it over." + +"Yeh!" chimes in the Kid. "Over a tray of private stock!" He laughs +and slaps alias Van Ness on the shoulder. "Cheer up! Foolish Fink, +will you have a little drink? Woof, woof! I'm a poet!" + +"Thanks!" says Van Ness. "But I'm on the wagon. I stopped drinking +five years ago, because under the influence of alcohol I've been known +to act the fool!" + +"You ain't the only one!" says the Kid. "Anyhow I never touch it +myself and Johnny here only uses it on his hair! But come on over--you +can have your pants pressed or take a shine, I'm gonna buy, and you +might as well get in on it. Bill's got a laughin' hyena in a cage +outside, and maybe you could get him to rehearse you!" + +About a week after that, the society bunch in Frisco comes over to Film +City to act in a picture for the benefit of the electric fan fund for +Greenland, or somethin' like that. About fifty of the future +corespondents, known to the trade as the younger set, blows over in +charge of a dame who had passed her thirty-sixth birth and bust day +when Napoleon was a big leaguer. She had did well by herself though +and when dressed for the street, they was harder things to look at than +her. Also, when her last husband died, he left her a bankroll that +when marked in figures on paper looked like it was the number of +Southerners below Washington. A little bit of a guy, which turned +around when you yelled "G. Herbert Gale" at him, breezed over with her +and at first I had him figured as a detective seekin' divorce evidence, +because he stuck to that dame like a cheap vaudeville act does to the +American flag. He trailed a few paces behind her everywhere she went, +callin' her "Mrs. Roberts-Miller" in public and "Helen Dear" when he +figured nobody was listenin'. It was easy to see that he had crashed +madly in love with this charmer, but as far as she was concerned they +was nothin' stirrin'. + +Except that G. Herbert was inclined to be a simp, he wasn't a bad guy +at that. He mixed well and bought freely, although he was riveted to +the water wagon himself. He bragged to me in fact that the nearest he +ever come to alcohol in his life was once when he used it to clean his +diamonds. + +But G. Herbert was the guy that invented the ancient and honorable +order of village cut-ups. I never asked him what the G stood for in +his name, I guessed it the first day he was in our midst. It meant +"Giggle!" This here Herbert person was a laughin' fool! The first +time I talked with him I thought I was cheatin' myself by only bein' +Scanlan's manager. I figured I ought to be in vaudeville knockin' 'em +dead for five hundred a week, because G. Herbert roared at everything I +said. He screamed with mirth at all the old ones and had hysterics +over three or four witty remarks I remembered from a show I seen the +night of the Johnstown flood. I thought, of course, it was the way I +put the stuff over, and I was just gonna give the Kid my fare-you-well, +when I seen G. Herbert standin' by a practical undertakers shop that +was fixed up for a fillum. The little simp was standin' over a coffin +laughin' his head off! + +That cured me, but him and the Kid become great little pals. I found +out later it was on account of G. Herbert snickerin' at the Kid's +comedy. Scanlan hadn't discovered it was a habit with this guy, and he +claimed here was a feller that knowed humor when he seen it. + +One afternoon I see Scanlan and Miss Vincent whisperin' together like +yeggmen outside a postoffice. They called me over, and the Kid tells +me that the society bunch was gonna leave us flat on the midnight +train, and before they blowed, Potts was gonna give 'em a dinner and +dance. All the movie crowd was to mix with Frisco's four hundred, so's +that both could enjoy the experience and say they took a chance once in +their lives. + +But the thing that was botherin' Miss Vincent--(Some dame, that! She +was the world's champion woman, believe me!) The thing that worried +her was G. Herbert and Helen Dear, alias Mrs. Roberts-Miller. Likin' +'em both, Miss Vincent wanted to hurl 'em together for good and all +before the train pulled out. + +It seems the only objection the dame had to G. Herbert was the fact +that he couldn't keep from laughin'. She had him figured as a +eighteen-carat simp and frequently told him so, addin' that she could +never marry a man who was shy on dignity. Then she gets a flash at our +old pal Jason Van Ness or Eddie Fink, as he claimed, and she fell so +hard for him she liked to broke her neck! Here was the only original +Sedate Sam! Here was the guy she was willin' and anxious to lead to +the altar and then to the old safe deposit vault! He was so handsome! +So dignified! Such a splendid actor! That's the stuff she was always +handin' poor little G. Herbert and askin' him why _he_ wasn't like +that? G. Herbert would shake his head, giggle, and say he didn't know +why, but he'd ask his parents. + +Van Ness couldn't see Helen Dear with opera glasses. He told me he +hated 'em stout, and, if possible, had figured on weddin' somebody +within ten years of his age--either way. I then felt it my duty to +inform him that her bankroll was stouter than she was. He goes into +high speed on the dignity thing and sets sail for Helen Dear like a +bloodhound after a nigger. He didn't want to look like a vulgar +fortune hunter, he claimed, but he figured if he could get his fingers +on a piece of Helen's dough, he could bribe G. Herbert to teach him the +art of laughin'. + +The Kid tells Miss Vincent to forget about the thing, and he would +guarantee that G. Herbert and Helen Dear went away threatenin' to marry +each other. She said she'd leave the matter in our hands and held hers +out. I shook it and Scanlan kissed it--a trick he stole from Van Ness. + +The dinner and dance that night was a knockout! Film City is lit up +like a plumber used to be on Saturday night, and the inhabitants is +dressed like the people that poses for the ads of any cigarette over +fifteen cents a pack. As usual, Miss Vincent had the rest of the dames +lookin' like sellin' platers in stake race and, believe me, some of +them society girls would have worried Venus. The Kid was so swelled up +because she kept within easy call all night that he forgot his promise +to fix up G. Herbert with Helen Dear. The latter, as we remark at the +laundry, was closer to Van Ness all night than the ocean is to the +beach, and it looked like the Kid was gonna have a tough time breakin' +'em up. + +Along around eleven, Miss Vincent calls Scanlan aside and reminds him +that he had better start workin' for G. Herbert, because they would all +be beatin' it for the train in a hour. She also give out that, if he +didn't make good, she was off him for life. Scanlan bows--another +trick he copped from Van Ness--and takes me away down at the end of the +lawn to dope somethin' out. + +I tripped over what I thought at first was a dead body and me and the +Kid props it up in the light. + +"Ha, ha!" it says. "Tony he'sa laugha at you! Tony he'sa laugha at +everybody! _Bomb Germo_! thisa fel' tella me--ha, ha, ha!" + +The Kid grunts in disgust, lets go and Tony bounces back on the lawn. + +"Stewed to the scalp!" says Scanlan. "Frisk him!" + +I run my hands over Tony and bring forth a bottle of gin and another +one of bourbon. The Kid looks 'em over, finally stickin' 'em both in +his coat pocket. + +"Come on!" he tells me. "They's no use hangin' around here. If I +don't get back there, some of them Wealthy Willies that have been +wishin' all night will be one-steppin' with Miss Vincent!" + +"But how about G. Herbert?" I says. + +"He's got my best wishes!" growls the Kid. "He's a nice little feller, +but that's the best I can do. What d'ye think I am--Cupid?" + +"Well, gimme the alcohol then!" I says. "You ain't gonna fall off the +wagon are you, when--" + +"Shut up, Stupid!" he butts in. "I wouldn't take a drink of this stuff +for what Rockefeller gets for overtime! I want to get it away from +that wop, so's he'll have somethin' to moan about when he wakes up." + +We went back to the party, and a couple of dames standin' at the punch +bowl calls to the Kid. He always was a riot with the women! Helen +Dear is there with Van Ness, and he's got to where he's pattin' her +hand, while G. Herbert stands in back of 'em lookin' like he wished he +had some nails to bite. + +I come to a table and there's Miss Vincent sittin' alone and she +motions me to sit down with her--so's my back would hide her from the +rest of the bunch. She says a little bit of society went a long ways +with her, and where was the Kid? Before I can answer her along comes +Helen Dear and she plumps down at the table and starts to tell us what +a magnificent man Mister Van Ness was. She claims she never seen such +a perfect gentleman in her life. I liked to snickered out loud at the +disappointed way she pulled that one and then the Kid, G. Herbert and +Van Ness suddenly comes around a tree and joins the party. + +Scanlan winks at Miss Vincent, and she looks at him inquiringly, but he +just shakes his head. I noticed that G. Herbert looked kinda sad, and +he must have put his giggler away because he just sat lookin' down at +the ground. Van Ness is full of life--I never seen him so cheerful--so +I figured that while them and the Kid was alone, Van Ness must have +told 'em that Helen Dear had proposed or accepted him. + +Finally, Helen Dear looks at her wrist watch and says she'll have to +tear herself away, because the train leaves in fifteen minutes. She +wastes five of that throwin' soulful looks at Van Ness and he give back +as good as he got. G. Herbert offers to get her wraps, comin' to life +long enough to make the request, but Helen Dear gives him a sneerin' +look and says there was servants there for that purpose. It was a +terrible throwdown, and Van Ness nearly grinned, but G. Herbert gamely +tried a giggle that sounded like the squeak of a stepped-on rat. + +While Helen Dear is gettin' into a coat that couldn't have cost a +nickel under five thousand bucks, the Kid gets up and calls Van Ness +and G. Herbert aside. They was gone about five minutes. When they +came back, Helen Dear is just puttin' on her hat and suddenly the thing +slips out of her hands and slides down over one eye. + +Then--excuse me a minute, I'm in convulsions! I'll never forget it if +I live to see Bryan vote against prohibition! There's Helen Dear +gettin' red in the face and strugglin' with that hat and-- + +"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" shrieks Van Ness--_the guy that had lost his +laugher_!--"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" he yells, holdin' the chair so's he can +stand up and pointin' at Helen's hat. "You ought to go in vaudeville!" +he hollers. "You'd be a riot with that act! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" + +Miss Vincent gasps, the Kid grins, and I all but fainted. Here's this +guy laughin' his head off for the first time in ten years and--look at +the time he picked to do it! Sweet Cookie! + +Helen Dear turns eighteen shades of red and fights for her breath like +a fish when you drag it over the side of the boat. Then up steps +little G. Herbert. His eyes is kinda glassy, but his face is set and +hard. His spine is as straight as a flag pole and he sticks a piece of +glass over one eye, just like Van Ness used to do! Dignity? Why he +could have took Van Ness when that guy was right--_and give him +lessons_! + +"What does this mean, sir!" he says, walkin' up to Van Ness who is +holdin' his sides and fallin' off the chair. Laugh? That bird was in +hysterics! + +"Ha, ha, ha!" bellers Van Ness. "Get a couple of good camera men +quick! Ha, ha, ha, ha! It looks like she got hit with a pie!" + +"You infernal idiot!" roars G. Herbert. "How dare you laugh at this +lady?" + +"Oh, boy!" answers Van Ness, finally rollin' off his chair. "Ha, ha, +ha, ha!" + +"Come, Herbert!" pipes Helen. "We will go back together and my answer +is Yes! Thank Heaven that man stands exposed in his true character!" + +"Thas' right!" nods Herbert, waggin' his head and glarin' at all of us. +"C'mon--hic--Cmon, M' dear!" + +Somethin' comes staggerin' up and grabs the Kid by the arm. It was +Tony. + +"Aha!" he yells. "Who'sa taka my bottle gin, bottle bourbon? +_Sapristi_! You bigga stiffa, I--" + +The Kid gives him a slow straight arm, and Tony goes over the table +backwards, landin' right beside his master. + +"No spika da Engleesh!" says Scanlan, as Tony disappears. + +I grabbed him by the arm. + +"Show me them bottles," I says, gettin' wise in a flash. + +The Kid takes out two _empty_ non-refillables and tosses 'em in the +grass. + +"My!" he says, dreamily. "How that little guy went to it!" + +Toot! Toot! Toot! goes the Santa Fe flier pullin' out with G. Herbert +and Helen Dear. + +"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha--ho, ho, ho, ho!" screams Van Ness from +under the table. "She promised--ha, ha, ha! to cheer me up--hic--ha, +ha, ha! and she--hic--certainly--ha, ha, ha!--made good!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE UNHAPPY MEDIUM + +They may be such a thing as a ghost, but I don't believe it! At the +same time, I'm willin' to admit that my feelin's in the matter ain't +gonna prove the ruin of the haunted house promoters. They's a whole +lot of things which I look on as plain and simple bunk, that the +average guy studies at college. But the reason I say they _may_ be, is +because when me and Kid Scanlan come back East this year we stopped off +somewheres in the hurrah for prohibition part of the country and was +showed over what the advertisin' matter admitted to be the greatest +bakery in the world. + +I think them ad writers was modest fellers. That joint was not only +the world's greatest bakery, it was the world's greatest _anything_! + +I never really knowed a thing about bread, except that you put butter +on it, until I give that place the up and down. + +What I don't know about the staff of life now would never get you +through Yale. I might go farther than that and come right out with the +fact that I have become a abandoned bread fiend and got to have it or I +foam at the mouth, since I seen how it was made at this dough foundry. + +A accommodatin' little guy took hold of me and the Kid and showed us +all over the different machine shops where this here bread was mixed, +baked and what-notted for the trade. Our charmin' guide must have come +from a family of auctioneers and circus barkers and he never heard of +no sums under ten or eleven thousand in his life. He knowed more about +figures than Joe Grady, who once filled in a summer with a Russian +ballet, and he had been wound up and set to deliver chatter at the rate +of three words a second, provided the track was fast and he got off in +front. He talked with his whole body, waggin' his head, movin' his +arms and shufflin' his feet. When he got warmed up and goin' good, he +pushed forward at you with his hands like he was tryin' to insert his +chatter right into you. + +He leads us to a spot about half a mile from where we come in, holds up +his hands to Heaven, coughs, blows his nose and gives a little shiver. + +"Over there!" he bellers, without no warnin'. "Over there is our +marvelous, mastadon, mixin' shop. We use 284,651 pounds of +scrupulously sifted and freshly flavored flour, one million cakes of +elegant yeast and 156,390 pounds of bakin' powder each and every year! +We employ 865 magnificent men there and they get munificent money. We +don't permit the use of drugs, alcoholics, tobacco or unions! The men +works eight easy hours a delightful day, six days a week and they are +happy, hardy and healthy! Promotion is regular, rapid and regardless! +Our employees is all loyal, likable and Lithuanians! They own their +own cottages, clothes and chickens, bein' thrifty, temperate and--" + +"Tasty!" I yells. I couldn't, keep it in no longer! + +"What?" snaps the little guy, kinda sore. + +"Lay off, Stupid!" says the Kid to me, with a openly admirin' glance at +the runt. "Go on with your story," he nods to him. "Never mind +Senseless, here, I'm gettin' every word of it!" + +The little hick glares at me and points to a shack on the left. + +"Over there," he pipes. "Over there is our shippin' plant where the +freshly finished and amazingly appetizin' loaves are carefully counted +and accurately assembled! For this painstakin' performance we employ +523 more men. None but the skilled, superior +and--and--eh--Scandinavian are allowed in that diligent department, and +each and every day a grand, glorious total of ten thousand lovely +loaves is let loose with nothin' missin' but the consumer's contented +cackle as he eagerly eats! We even garnish each loaf with a generous +gob of Gazoopis--our own ingenuous invention--before they finally +flitter forth! Would you like to see the shop?" + +"I certainly wish _I_ could sling chatter like that!" answers the Kid +with a sigh. "But I guess it's all in the way a guy was brung up. +Gobs of generous Gazoopis!" he mutters, turnin' the words over in his +mouth like they was sweet morsels. "Gobs of generous Gazoopis! Oh, +boy!" + +The little guy throws out his chest and bows with a "I-thank-you" look +all over his face. He got me sore just watchin' him. Y'know that runt +hated himself! + +"Say!" I says to him. "If all that stuff you claim for this roll +foundry is on the level, it must take a lot of dough to run it, eh?" + +"Are you tryin' to kid me?" he sneers. + +"No!" I comes back. "But speakin' of bakeries, I'd sacrifice my sacred +silk socks for a flash at them skilled Scandinavians assemblin' that +bread, before I move on to nasty New York!" + +The Kid slaps me on the back and grins. + +"Go on, Foolish!" he says. "You got this bird on the ropes!" He turns +to the runt. "All I want," he goes on, "is one peep at them likable +Lithuanians--can I git that?" + +"You guys is as funny as pneumonia to me!" snorts the little guy, +gettin' red in the face. "That stuff may pass for comedy in Yonkers or +wherever you hicks blowed in from, but it don't git no laugh outa me! +D'ye wanna see this shop or don't you--yes or no?" + +"Let's go!" I tells him. "You got me all worked up about it!" + +"Same here!" says the Kid. "I only wish I could talk like you can, but +I guess it's a gift, ain't it?" + +The little guy grunts somethin' and nods for us to fall in behind him, +and we lock step along till we come to another joint from which was +issuin' what I'll lay eight to five was all the noise in the world. +How they ever gathered it up and got it in the buildin' I don't know, +but I do know it was there! If you'd take a bowlin' alley on +Turnverein night, a boiler factory workin' on a rush order and the +battle of Gettysburg, wind 'em up and set 'em all off at once, you +might get a faint idea of how the inmates of that buildin' was ruinin' +the peace and quiet of the surroundin' country. A dynamite explosion +in the next block would have attracted as much attention as a whisper +in a steamfittin' shop. + +"I thought the war was all over!" hollers the Kid, holdin' his ears. +"Has the police been tipped off about this?" + +"What d'ye mean the police?" screams back the runt. "That there is the +mixin' and bakin' shop." + +"Yeh?" I cuts in. "Well, I don't know what them skilled Scandinavians +of yours is at, but, believe me, they're _tryin'_ all right!" + +The runt sneers at us. + +"You must be a fine pair of hicks!" he says. "D'ye mean to say you +never heard of the Eureka Mixin' and Bakin' machine?" + +"I can hear it now, all right!" I tells him, noddin' to the buildin' +where the boilermakers was havin' a field day, "but--" + +"Sufferin' salmon, what boobs!" he interrupts me. Then he gives us +both the once over and starts his sneerer workin' again. "Say!" he +asks me. "Who d'ye like to win the battle of Santiago and d'ye think +Lincoln will git elected again?" + +"I don't know," I comes back. "I'm gonna vote for Jefferson myself!" +I looks him right in the eye. "I think Washington is a sucker to hang +around Valley Forge all winter, don't you?" I asks him. + +"Couple of small time cut-ups, eh?" he says, shakin' his head. "Where +d'ye come from?" + +"New York," the Kid tells him, "and listen--will you do me a favor and +let's hear some more about them likable Lithuanians and gobs of +generous Gazoopis?" + +"I figured you come from some hick burg like New York," says the runt, +ignorin' the Kid's request. "I can spot a guy from New York ten miles +away! He knocks Brooklyn, thinks walkin' up Broadway is seein' life, +was born in Memphis and is the only thing that keeps the mail order +houses in Oshkosh from goin' to the wall! New Yorkers, eh?" he winds +up with another insultin' sneer. "I got you!" + +"Gobs of generous Gazoopis!" mutters the Kid like he's in a trance. +"Sweet Papa!" + +The runt looks at him. + +"How does _that_ bird fool the almshouse?" he asks me. + +I bent down so's I could whisper in the side of his little dome. Them +skilled Scandinavians in the buildin' had gone crazy or else some of +the night shift had come in with more boilers and things to hit 'em +with. + +"That's Kid Scanlan, welterweight champion of the world!" I hisses in +his ear. + +"Ha, ha!" laughs the runt. "That's who he'd _like_ to be, you mean!" + +"Our employees is all hale, hearty and hilarious!" grins the Kid at +him. "We pay 'em off in money, music and mush! Wow!" + +"If that big stiff is tryin' to kid me," begins the runt, gettin' red +again, "he--" + +"All right, all right!" I butts in quickly. "Don't let's have no +violence. Show us what makes that shop go, and we'll grab the next +rattler for New York. Y'know the Kid fights Battlin' Edwards on the +twenty-first and--" + +"Are you on the _level_ with that stuff?" interrupts the runt, still +lookin' at the Kid. "Is that really Kid Scanlan?" + +I calls the Kid over. + +"Kid," I says, "meet Mister--er--" + +"Sapp," says the runt. "Joe Sapp!" He sticks out his hand. "I +remember you now," he tells the Kid. "I seen you fight some tramp in +Fort Wayne last year. I think you hit this guy with everything but the +referee and that's why I like your work. When _I_ send in three bucks +for a place to sit down at a box fight, I expect to see assault and +batter and not the Virginia Reel! Why--" + +"Not to give you a short answer," I butts in, "but how about the insane +asylum over there?" I points to the buildin'. "Do we see that or +don't we?" + +Right away he straightens up and sticks his finger at it. + +"It takes exactly twelve, temptin' minutes to completely compose and +accurately assemble a loaf!" he shouts. "We never heard of waste, and +efficiency was born in this factory. The only thing that loafs here is +the bread! Each eager employee has his own particular part to perform +and that accounts for the amazin' and awesome accuracy with which we +bake the beautiful bread. Step this way!" + +"Believe me!" says the Kid, "I wish I had a line of patter like that! +'Amazin' and awesome accuracy'!" he repeats. "Do you get that?" + +Right then about a dozen dames and their consorts come breezin' in the +main entrance. Offhand, they look like the hicks that gives the +"Seein' New York" busses a play, and when the runt spots them he ducks +and grabs my arm. + +"C'mon!" he says. "Shake it up! If them boobs see me, I'll have to +show 'em all over the plant! That's a gang of them Snooks' Tourists, +seein' the world for fourteen eighty-five a-piece, breakfast at hotel +on third mornin' out and bus from train included! Most of them is +wisenheimers from Succotash Crossin', Mo.; and they're out to see that +they don't get cheated. They're gonna see everything like it says on +the ticket, and some of 'em is ready to sue Snooks because they got +somethin' in their eye from lookin' out the train window and missed +eight telegraph poles and a water tank on account of it. The rest of +them sits around knockin' everything on general principles and claimin' +the thing is a fake. Then there'll be one old guy in the party with a +trick horn he holds to his ear, and, when I get all through tellin' 'em +about the mixin' shop, the deef guy will say, 'Hey? What was that +about the airship again?' There will also be three veteran +school-teachers which will want samples of the bread and hide out a +couple of rolls on the side. And then one young married couple which +started sayin' 'Wonderful!' when the train pulled out of the old home +town and which has said nothin' else but that since! No, sir! I'm off +them tourists--c'mon, sneak around here!" + +He boldly walks into the buildin' where all the noise is comin' from, +and not wantin' to act yellah before strangers we followed him in. +They was a lot of things in there and if you ever make the town, Joe +Sapp will show 'em to you. He has to, in order to eat. But the only +thing I remember was the way them lovely, luxurious loaves was +artistically assembled, and I'll remember that little item till the +insurance company pays off! + +They was a great, big machine in the middle of the floor and that was +the thing that was makin' the bread and noise. A half dozen of them +skilled Scandinavians stood away up on a gallery at one end and their +job was of a pourin' nature. They was all dressed in white and wore +little trick hats on which it said this, "No Human Hands Touch It." I +didn't know whether it meant the skilled Scandinavians or the beautiful +bread. + +"The most marvelous, magnificent, mammoth invention of the age!" bawls +the runt so's we could hear him over the noise. "Here is where the +beautiful bread is blissfully baked by the wonderful workmen! This +machine cost the sensational sum of half a million dollars, and its +capacity is a trifle over five hundred finely finished luscious loaves +each and every--" + +That's all I heard because I went in a trance from watchin' the thing. +I never seen nothin' like it before and I know darn well I never will +again. Listen! Them skilled Scandinavians poured in raw wheat at one +end of this here machine, and it come out the other end, steamin' hot +bread! Some machine, eh? Not only that, but when it come out, it was +baked, labelled, wrapped in oil paper and smellin' most heavenly from +that generous gob of Gazoopis, as the runt said. + +I dragged the Kid outside and we started for the railroad station +without comment. As we passed out the door, we heard the runt +screamin', probably thinkin' we was still there. + +"One section reduces the wheat to flour, another mixes the dough, it +passes on to the steam ovens and then what happens? _Bread_! Over +here--" + +The Kid stops all of a sudden, takes a hitch in his belt and looks back +at the shop. + +"Hell!" he says. "They _can't_ make no bread like that!" + +"You seen 'em do it, didn't you?" I asks him, although I was thinkin' +the same thing myself. + +"Even at that," he comes back, "I don't believe it!" + +We walks on a little ways, and the Kid stops again. + +"I certainly wish I could talk like that little runt!" he shoots out. +"Take it from me, that bird is there forty ways. He's got Webster +lookin' like a dummy!" + +He keeps on mutterin' to himself as we breeze up to the station, and, +when I lean over to get an earful I hear him sayin', "They're all +simple, sassy and suckers! We feed 'em oranges, oatmeal and olives!" + +So, as I said before, they _may_ be such a thing as ghosts. After +watchin' that bread bakin' machine at play I'll go further than that. +There may be _anything_! + +One day at the trainin' camp, a couple of weeks after we hit New York, +a handler comes to me and says they's two guys outside that wants to +see the Kid. I hopped out to take a flash at 'em, but the Kid has been +reached, and when I come on the scene he's shakin' hands with 'em. One +of these guys was dressed the way the public thinks bookmakers and con +men doll up and he wore one of them sweet, trustin' innocent faces like +you see on the villain in a dime novel. He looked to me like he'd +steal a sunflower seed from a blind parrot. + +But it was the other guy that was the riot to me. + +He was tall and lanky, dressed all in black like the pallbearer the +undertaker furnishes, and the saddest-lookin' boob I ever seen in my +life! If he wasn't the original old Kid Kill-Joy, he was the bird that +rehearsed him, believe me! Y'know just from lookin' at this guy, a man +would get to thinkin' about his past life, the time he throwed the baby +down the well when but a playful child, how old his parents was gettin' +and the time Shorty Ellison run off with the red-headed dame that lived +over the butcher's. You wished you had saved your money or somebody +else's, suddenly findin' out that it was a tough world where a poor man +didn't have a Chinaman's chance, and you wondered if death by drownin' +was painful or not. + +That's the way it made you feel when you just looked at this guy. Ever +see one of 'em? + +He had a trick of sighin'. Not just ordinary heaves, but deep, dark +and gloomy sighs that took all the life out of whoever he sighed at. +If they had that bird over in Europe, they never would have been no +war, because when he started sighin', nobody would have had enough +ambition left to fight. Every time he opened his mouth I thought he +was gonna say, "Merciful Heaven help us all!" or somethin' like that. +But he didn't. He just sighed. + +The Kid tells me the riot of color was Honest Dan Leduc, and that he +was the best behaved guy that ever spent a week end in Sing Sing, where +he had gone every now and then to study jail conditions at the request +of thirteen men, the same bein' a judge and a jury. The sad-lookin' +boob was Professor Pietro Parducci, the well known medium. + +"Medium what?" I says, when the Kid pulls that one. + +The Kid frowns at me and turns to his new found friends. + +"Don't mind Foolish here," he tells 'em, "he's got the idea that +everything is crooked. He thinks the war was a frame-up for the +movies, and the Kaiser got double-crossed, but he ain't a bad guy at +that. He knows more about makin' money than a lathe hand at the mint." +He jerks his thumb at Honest Dan and swings around on me. "This guy +and me was brung up together," he explains, "and before I went into the +fight game we was as close as ninety-nine and a hundred. He's been all +over the world since then, he says so himself, but just now he's up +against it. It seems he was runnin' a pool room on Twenty-Eighth +Street and he give the wrong winner of the Kentucky Derby to the +precinct captain. The next mornin' the captain give every cop in the +station house a axe and Dan's address. His friend here is a now, +whosthis and--" + +Honest Dan pulls what I bet he thought was a pleasant smile. It +reminded me more of a laughin' hyena. + +"One minute!" he butts in. "My friend, the world-renowed Professor +Parducci, is a medium, a mystic and a swami. He's the seventh son of a +seventh son, born with a veil and spent two years in Indiana with the +yogi. He can peer into the future or gaze back at the past. He is in +direct communication with the spirits of the dear departed and as a +crystal gazer and palmist he stands alone!" + +"That's a great line of patter, Dan," says the Kid, "but we met a guy +on the trip back that had the English language layin' down and rollin' +over when he snapped his fingers. Generous gobs of Gazoopis and +likable, loyal Lithuanians! Can you tie that?" + +I was still lookin' over the gloomy guy with the name that sounded like +a brand of olive oil, and I decided he was the bunk. I asked him could +he tell my fortune, and he draws himself up and claims he's not in +harmony just now. That was the tip-off to me, and I figures he has +come out to take the Kid for his bankroll. I knowed he couldn't tell +no fortunes the minute I seen him. He didn't look to me as if he could +tell his own name, and I bet all the spirits he ever communicated with +was called private stock. The end of his nose was as red as a four +alarm fire and the back of his collar was all wore off from where he +had kept throwin' back his head so's the saloon keepers could meet +expenses. Honest Dan said he couldn't speak much English, so I guess +he had stopped at "I'll have the same" and "Here's a go!" + +Well, I had the right dope, because the next week the Kid goes down to +the bank and draws out five thousand bucks to set Honest Dan and the +professor up in business with. They was gonna open a swell +fortune-tellin' joint on Fifth Avenue. I said the thing sounded +crooked to me, and the Kid got sore and told me Honest Dan couldn't do +nothin' like that, it wasn't in him. He showed me where Dan had always +got time off for good conduct, no matter what jail he was in. + +The professor brightens up for a minute when the Kid hands over the +roll, but after that he went right back into the gloom again. + +Honest Dan gives the Kid a receipt for the sucker money and him and his +trick medium goes on their way. After a while, I forgot about 'em. +The Kid fights Edwards and a couple of more tramps and knocks 'em all +kickin' and we're just gonna grab one of them "See America Firsts" for +the coast when some club promoter goes crazy and offers us ten thousand +iron men to fight Joe Ryan. The Kid would have fought the Marines for +half of that, so we run all the way to the club and signed articles +whiles the guy that hung up the purse was still wishin' he had stayed +on the wagon. + +The Kid had got Professor Parducci to fix him up with a few love charms +and owls' ears by which he was gonna make himself solid with Miss +Vincent. In fact Scanlan fell so hard for the medium stuff that when +the professor told him to get at all cost a lock of Miss Vincent's hair +clipped at eighteen minutes after eleven on a rainy Sunday night, he +writes out to her and asks her to send him a lock cut just that way! + +When he wasn't pesterin' the professor on how to win the movie queen, +he was goin' around mutterin', "Loyal, likeable Lithuanians and +generous gobs of Gazoopis!" until the newspaper guys wrote that Kid +Scanlan would be a mark for the first good boy he fought, because like +everybody else that was a sudden success, he had took to usin' +stimulants which is only sold on a doctor's prescription. On the +level, he'd git a wad of paper and sit around all night with a +dictionary, writin' down all the words that begin with the same letter +and then he'd git up and repeat that stuff for a hour. + +One afternoon we went downtown to look over this joint run by Honest +Dan and the professor. It was in one of them studio buildings on Fifth +Avenue near Twenty-Eighth Street, and the rent they was payin' for it +would have kept the army in rubber heels for six years. They's a long +line of autos outside and the inmates was streamin' in and out of the +place like a crowd goin' to see the beloved rector laid out. Some of +the dames would be familiar to you, if you've been readin' the box +scores in the latest divorce melees, or the lineup of the committee for +the aid of the Esquimaux victims of the war. + +We get in a elevator, and, floatin' up to the roof, walk down what +would have been a fire trap on the East Side, and here we are at +Professor Parducci's Temple of the Inner Star. A couple of West Indian +hall boys, who's gag line was "Say-hib," lets us in. They was dressed +in sheets and had towels twisted around their heads and smelled +strongly of gin. Pretty soon Honest Dan comes out and shakes hands all +around. Except for his face, you'd never know it was the same guy. +His hair is brushed all the way back like the guys that poses for the +underwear ads and he's dressed in a black suit that fit him better than +most of his skin. In his shirt front they's a diamond that looked like +a young arc light, and he had enough gems on his hands to make J. P. +Morgan gnash his teeth. + +He told me that him and the professor wasn't doin' no more business +than a guy would do in Hades with the ice water concession, and that +Barnum was wrong when he said they was a sucker born every minute. +Honest Dan said _his_ figures showed there was about two born every +_second_. + +He leads us into a great big hall that was filled with statues, +pictures, rugs, sofas, women and fatheads. The furnishings of this +joint would make Buckingham Palace look like a stable. It must have +ruined the Kid's five thousand just to lay in scenery for that one room +alone. The statues and pictures was nearly all devoted to one subject, +and that was why should people wear clothes--especially women? The +victims is all lollin' around on them plush sofas, drinkin' tea and +lookin' like a ten-year-old kid at church or a guy waitin' in the +doctor's office to find out if he's got consumption or chilblains. It +was as quiet as a Sunday in Philadelphia and they was also a very +strong smell of burnin' glue, which Honest Dan said was sacred incense +that always had to be used by the professor before he could work. + +Among the decorations was a very large dame sittin' over in a corner +dressed within a inch of her life. I suppose she had ears, a neck and +hands, but you couldn't tell right away whether she had or not, because +them parts of her anatomy, as the feller says, was buried under a +carload of diamonds. You could see by her face that at one time she +had probably been a swell-lookin' dame, but them days was all over. +Still, she was makin' a game try at comin' back, and from her +complexion she must have been kept busy day and night openin' bottles +and cans signed on the outside by Lillian Russell and etc. + +This dame was havin' the best time of anybody in the joint. She was +sittin' up very straight and solemn with both chins restin' in her +glitterin' hands and from the look in her eyes some Sunday paper had +just claimed she was the best lookin' woman in America and the like. + +A guy wouldn't have to be no Sherlock Holmes to see that this was the +bird that was bein' readied for the big killin' by Honest Dan and his +trick professor. The rest of them was just what you might call the +chorus. + +Sittin' right beside the stout party was a kid that had just dropped in +from the cover of a magazine. She was the kind of female that could +come down to breakfast with the mumps and her hair in curl papers, fry +the egg on the wrong side and yet make the lucky guy across the table +go out whistlin' and pityin' his unwed friends. You know how them +dames look when they have give some time to _dollin' up_, don't you? +Well, this one had everything; take it from me, she was a knockout! +She's tappin' the floor with a classy little foot and tryin' to see can +she pull a silk handkerchief apart with her bare hands, the while +registerin' this, +"This-medium-thing-is-the-bunk-and-I-wish-I-was-out-of-here!" + +I doped her as the stout dame's daughter, hittin' .1000 on the guess as +I found out later. + +"Well," whispers Honest Dan to the Kid, "what d'ye think of the place?" + +"Some joint!" says the Kid. "Listen--I got a new one. The most +magnificently, male mauler on earth! How's that--poor, eh?" + +"What does it mean?" asks Honest Dan. + +"It means _me_, Stupid!" pipes the Kid. "I'm havin' some cards made up +with that on it. The sagacious, sanguine and scandalous Scanlan, +welterweight walloper of the world! Where's the professor?" + +"Sssh!" whispers Honest Dan. "Lay off that _professor_ gag here. +That's small town stuff--he's a mahatma now! He's in one of his +silences, but if you keep quiet I'll take you around and show you how +he works." + +He takes us through a little door that leads into a dark room which was +a steal on the old chamber of horrors at the Eden Musee. It was full +of ghost pictures drawed by artists who had no use for prohibition, and +they was plenty of skulls and stuff like that layin' around where they +would do the most good. At the far end is a small wire gratin' with a +Morris chair on the other side of it. Honest Dan explains that that's +where the come-ons sit while the professor massages their soul. They +never see him, Dan figurin' in that way it would be harder to pick the +professor out at police headquarters when the district attorney got +around to him. We hadn't been there a minute, when the curtain at the +other end of the room opens and in blows the stout dame, floppin' down +in the chair with a sigh as the professor pulls open the grate to feed +her the oil. Dan pulls us back in the dark, and I notice she was so +excited that she shook all over like a ten cent portion of cornstarch +or Instant Desserto and her breath was comin' in short little gasps. + +Honest Dan is takin' a inventory of the couple of quarts of diamonds +she wore and figurin' the list price on his shirt cuffs. When he got +through, he dug me in the ribs and says it looks like a big winter. + +The professor starts to talk with a strong Ellis Island dialect, +tellin' the dame that he's just been in a trance, give the sacred +crystal the once over and took up her case with a few odd ghosts. The +result was that a spirit which was in the know had just give him a tip +that she was no less than the tenth regular reincarnation of Cleopatra, +who did a big time act in one with a guy called Marc Anthony which was +now doin' a single or had jumped to the movies or somethin' like that. + +The stout dame gets up off the chair and waves her handkerchief. + +"Merciful Heavens!" she remarks loudly. "I knew it!" + +Then she pulls a funny fall and faints! + +The professor hisses at Dan to get him a cigarette, and the West Indian +hall boys drag the stout dame into the chair from which she had slipped +followin' the professor's sure-fire stuff about Cleopatra. He snatches +a few drags out of the cigarette before the dame comes to and when she +does, he goes on and says yes she is Cleopatra, they ain't no doubt +about that part of it and she must have noticed the strange power she +had over men all her life, hadn't she? The stout dame sighs and nods +her head. The professor then tells her that she has been in wrong and +unhappy all her life, because she had never met her mate. The same +bein' a big, husky, red-blooded cave man which would club her senseless +and carry her off to his lair. Had she ever met anybody like that? +The stout dame says not lately, but when poor Henry and her had first +got wed he was a Saturday night ale-hound and once or twice he had--but +never mind, she won't speak ill of the dead. The professor says he can +see that nobody of the real big-league calibre has crossed her path as +yet and that her husband's spirit had told him in confidence only the +other day that one night he got to thinkin' what a poor worm he was to +be married to Cleopatra, and it had been too much for his humble soul +which bust. + +The dame nods and starts to weep. + +"Poor Hennerey!" she says. "He ain't stopped lyin' yet. I should +never have wed him, but how did I know that my fatal beauty would prove +his undoing?" + +"Ain't that rich?" pipes Honest Dan in my ear. + +The professor has a coughin' spell, and when he calmed himself, he says +he has just got in touch with Marc Anthony and he's pullin' the wires +to have him come back to earth so's their souls can be welded together +again and if she will come back in a week, he'll be able to tell her +some big news. He said it was bein' whispered around among the spirits +that Marc Anthony was on earth now, eatin' his noble heart out because +he couldn't find her. + +Then he suddenly shuts the gate, and the dame staggers out, overcome +with joy and the smell of that incense which would have made a glue +factory quit. Honest Dan beats it around and opens the door for her. +They wouldn't take a nickel off her then, because they was savin' her +for the big play. + +About a week after our visit to the Temple of the Inner Star, the Kid +comes runnin' up to my room at the hotel one mornin' and busts in the +door. He's got a newspaper in his hand and he slams it down on the bed +and kicks a innocent chair over on its side. + +"I hope they give him eighty years!" he hollers. + +"Who's your friend?" I asks him. + +"Friend!" he screams. "Why, the big psalm-singin' stiff, I'll murder +him!" + +"They's just one thing I'd like to know, Kid," I says. "Who?" + +"That cheap, pan-handlin' crook that Dan Leduc wished on me!" he yells. +"That rotten snake I kept from dyin' in the gutter, that baby-stealin' +rat which claims he's a medium! Professor Bunko--that's who!" + +I grabbed up the paper and all over the front page is a picture of Miss +Vincent. Underneath it says this, + +"Famous Film Star Rumored Engaged to Millionaire." + +"Well," I says, "what has this here social note got to do with the +Professor?" + +"What has a jockey got to do with horse-racin'?" bellers the Kid. "Why +the big hick, I'll go down there and strangle him right out loud before +them high-brow simps of his! I'll have him pinched and I hope he gets +life! I'll--" + +He went on like that for half an hour, and when he finally cools off he +explains that the professor had guaranteed to dust off his charmers and +charm Miss Vincent so hard that she wouldn't even give a pleasant smile +to nobody but the Kid. All Scanlan had to do was follow the +professor's dope and they'd be nothin' to it but slippin' the minister +and payin' the railroad people for the honeymoon. The Kid had gone +ahead and done like the professor said, startin' off with the letter +requestin' a lock of her hair clipped at eleven eighteen on a rainy +Sunday night. Then he telegraphed her to bathe her thumbs in hot +oolong tea every Friday at noon and send him the leaves in a red +envelope. He followed that up with a note demandin' a ring that she +had first dipped in the juice of a stewed poppy, and then held in back +of her while she said, "Alagazza, gazzopi, gazzami" thirteen times. + +I guess the professor overplayed the thing a bit, because the only +action the Kid got was a short note from Miss Vincent in which she said +that as long as he had started right in to drink the minute he hit New +York, their friendship was all over. The next thing was that notice in +the paper. + +The Kid's idea was to go right down and wreck the Temple of the Inner +Star, windin' up by havin' Honest Dan and his bunk medium pinched. I +showed him where it would do no good, because he had set 'em up in +business and if they was crooked the jury would figure that and put the +Kid's name on one of them indictments. He calmed off finally and said +he'd be satisfied to let it go at half killin' 'em both and makin' a +bum out of the Temple of the Inner Star. + +We got down there in a few minutes, and Honest Dan meets us at the +door. He's all excited and says the time has come for the big hog +killin', after which they're gonna blow New York, because they been +tipped off that the new police commissioner is about to startle the +natives with a raid. The Kid starts to bawl him out, when the big +stout dame is ushered into the room and Dan hustles us into the +professor's shrine in the rear. + +As soon as she gets inside, the professor tells her to prepare for a +shock. She shivers all over, grabbin' the side of the chair and takin' +a long whiff out of a little green bottle. Then she says she'll try +and be brave, and to let her have the works. The professor says he has +finally dug up Marc Anthony, and all the spirits is in there tryin' for +them, so's they can be brought together. He told her to go right back +to her rooms at the Fitz-Charlton and he would send out the old thought +waves for Marc. Just when he'd get him, he didn't know--it might be a +day, a week or a month, but she was to sit there all dolled up to +receive him and wait. He said she would know Marc, because he would +have a snake tattooed on the third finger of his right hand in memory +of the way Cleopatra kissed off. That's all he was allowed to give out +just now, he winds up. + +Well, the stout dame thanks him about six hundred times and waddles out +darn near hysterical. She grabs hold of her daughter and hisses in her +ear, + +"Oh, Gladys, they've found him! My beloved Marc Anthony is coming to +claim me for his own. Then we will return to Egypt, and, sitting upon +a golden throne--" + +Friend daughter pulls a weary smile and leads Cleopatra to the door. + +"Oh, don't, mother!" she says. "Don't! If you only knew how all this +sickens me! This man has hypnotized you! Why don't you listen to me +and take that trip to California where--" + +"What!" squeals the stout dame. "What? Be away when my Marc comes? +How dare you think of such a thing! I did that once and if you have +read your ancient history, you must remember the terrible result!" + +Daughter sighs, shakes her head and they go out. + +Now the Kid has been takin' all this stuff in without lettin' a peep +out of him and when the stout dame has left, I figured he'd tear right +in to the plotters, so I got ready to hold up my end and reached for a +chair. But what d'ye think the Kid did? He falls down on a sofa and +starts to laugh! On the level, I bet he snickered out loud for a good +fifteen minutes and then he gets up and walks to the door without +sayin' a single word to either Dan or the professor, after all that +stuff he pulled on me at the hotel! + +While we're goin' down in the elevator, Honest Dan tells us that they +got a handsome actor who just now is playin' in a show called "Standin' +on the Corners, Waitin' for a Job," and they're gonna have him get a +snake painted on the third finger of his right hand and shoo him up to +the stout dame the next day. After he has been welcome homed, Marc +Anthony is gonna say that he's makin' out a check for the professor +which throwed them together, and don't she think she ought to send in +somethin' also? When she asks what he thinks would be about right, +Marc Anthony is gonna say that he guesses she ought to keep the pen she +wrote the check with as a souvenir, but that everything else she had, +includin' anything a pawnbroker would give a ticket on, would do! + +I didn't say nothin' to that, but I was doin' a piece of thinkin' and +as soon as we got our feet on Fifth Avenue again, I let go. I told the +Kid what I thought of his friend Honest Dan in language that Billy +Sunday could have been proud of. When I got through with Dan, I took +up the professor and give him a play. I said it was my belief that a +couple of safety-first crooks, who would deliberate trim a simple old +stout dame out of her dough in that coarse manner, should be taken up +to the Metropolitan tower and eased off. + +The Kid just grins and starts hummin' under his breath. + +By this time I had worked myself up to such a pitch that my goat was +chasin' madly about the streets, and to have the Kid act that way was +about all I needed. I carefully explained to him just how many kinds +of a big, yellah tramp he was, to let the professor crab him with Miss +Vincent and get away with it clean. I showed him where he should have +at least bent a chair over that guy's head, if he was a real gentleman +whose honor had been trifled with and not a four flushin' false alarm. + +"Gobs of generous Gazoopis!" he snickers at me when I get through. +"Our employees is all new, noisy and Norwegians!" + +They was a queer look in his eye, and I figured he must have slipped +out in the mornin' at that and dug up a place where prohibition hadn't +carried. I stopped right in the middle of the traffic and told him I +was goin' up to the Fritz-Charlton the next mornin' and tip the stout +dame off, if it was the last thing I did. + +He just grins! + +The next mornin' I beat it up to Cleopatra's hotel, and, after I have +waited an hour, she sends a maid down to see me. The maid tells me to +spread my hands out flat on a little table that's standin' there and +she examines every finger like a sure enough mechanic looks over a +second-hand automobile he's gonna buy to hack with. Finally, she +throws my hands down with a disappointed look and her shoulders begins +one of them hula dances. + +"_Viola_!" she remarks. "That leetle snake, he is not there! Madame +she is not at home--away wit' you!" + +Well, I figures I did what _I_ could, so I breezed out and left +Cleopatra flat. + +Failin' to locate the Kid anywheres, I went on down to the studio and +walk right in on the professor and Honest Dan givin' Marc Anthony a +dress rehearsal. He was a handsome guy, all right, sickenin'ly so, +with one of them soft, mushy faces and wavin' blonde hair. He's had +the snake tattooed on his finger, like the part called for, and the way +he carries on about how he's gonna give the stout dame the work makes +me foam at the mouth. My once favorably known left had all it could do +to keep from bouncin' off his chin! Finally, they start him away and +Honest Dan tells me how they got it framed up for him to meet +Cleopatra. He was to go to the Fritz-Charlton and send up a card that +claimed he was the editor of "Society Seethings," and when she comes +down to see him, he was to ask her what was her plans for the winter +season and a lot of bunk like that. In no way was he to make a crack +about bein' Marc Anthony--that would be too raw, but as he was leavin' +he was to carelessly let her see that snake on his finger. That was +all! + +They knowed Cleopatra would do the rest. + +I couldn't stand no more, so I hustled back to our hotel, and the +minute I get in, the clerk tells me the Kid has been chasin' around +lookin' for me all morning so I beat it right up to our suite. The Kid +is doin' his road work by canterin' around the room when I come in, and +he rushes over and grabs me by the arm. + +"When are them yeggmen gonna send Marc Anthony up to Cleopatra?" he +demands, all excited. + +"He just left a few minutes ago!" I tells him. "Why?" + +The Kid gives a yell and jumps over to the door leadin' to our +sittin'-room, yankin' it open with one jerk. I thought I'd pass away +when I got a flash at what was inside. They was about twenty of the +roughest lookin' guys I ever seen in my life, all dolled up in new +suits, shoes and hats. Some of them I recognized as ex-heavy-weights, +they was a few strikin' longshoremen, a fair sprinklin' of East Side +gunmen and here and there what had passed for a actor in the tanks. + +"Some layout, eh?" pipes the Kid, rubbin' his hands together. "It took +me all mornin' and nearly three hundred bucks to rib them guys up, but +they're all desperate, darin' and dolled up!" + +"What the--what's the big idea?" I gasps. + +"Hold up your hands!" roars the Kid at his rough and readys. + +They did--and I got it! + +Each and every one of them guys had a snake tattooed on the third +finger of his right hand! + +The Kid had probably put in the mornin' rehearsin' 'em, because all he +had to say now was, "Go to it!" and they beat it. He told me they was +all goin' up to the Fritz-Charlton and ask for the stout dame at three +minute intervals, show their right hand and claim they was Marc Anthony! + +"If that don't show the stout dame that the professor is the bunk and +if she don't let out a moan that'll be plainly heard at police +headquarters, I'll make Dan a present of the five thousand he took me +for!" says the Kid. + +In about a hour the telephone begins to ring and I answers it. When +the ravin' maniac on the other end of the wire got to where he could +control the English language, I found out it was no less than Honest +Dan. The main thing he said was for us to come down to the Temple of +the Inner Star right away, because him and the professor has got in a +terrible jam. We hopped in a taxi and did like he said. Honest Dan is +waitin' in the elevator for us, and he looked like the loser in a +battle royal. He says the stout dame has just left, and she's in a +terrible state. I could believe that easy, because they is nothin' +more vicious in the land of the free than a enraged come-on. I'd +rather face a nervous wildcat than face a angry boob! + +"Somebody put the bee on us!" howls Honest Dan, wringin' his hands. +"And a truckload of guys went up to the hotel claimin' they was Marc +Anthony in voices that disturbed people in China. They throwed the +real Marc out on his lily white ear, and seven of 'em got pinched for +disorderly conduct. I understand they was a melee up there that would +make a football game look like chess and the papers is havin' a field +day with the thing! We got to grab Cleopatra's gems and go away from +here before the whole plant is uncovered." + +"Why," I says, "how are you gonna take the stout dame now? She knows +it's a fake, don't she?" + +"Fake, hell!" hollers Dan. "_She thinks it's on the level_! The only +thing that bothers her is which one is the _right_ Marc Anthony. She +says two of them had such patrician faces that she thinks some of the +Caesars has got mixed up with the lot. She's gonna put it up to her +late husband, and she's comin' back here any minute to talk with his +spirit!" He begins walkin' the floor. "I never seen no dame like +that!" he busts out. "She _wants_ to be trimmed! The only thing she +seemed to be sore about was the fact that she couldn't pick out the +right Marc Anthony. Now we git the chance of a lifetime to grab a roll +when she comes back and we ain't got no ghost! If I could only get the +guy that sent all them Marc Anthonys up there," he winds up with a +yell, "I'd make a ghost out of him!" + +He never seemed to think the Kid might have done it, because the Kid +was the boy that had set him and the professor up in business and why +should he crab his own play? + +A little electric buzzer makes good while Honest Dan is ravin' away, +and Dan, gettin' white, grabs the Kid by the arm and begs him to come +to the rescue. + +"Jump in that cabinet there!" he whispers to him. "And when this dame +asks if you're Henry, say yes, and tell her the real Marc Anthony is +the guy with the blonde hair, and he's now at the City Hospital. +That's all you got to say and--" + +He shoves the Kid back of the cabinet and me back of a curtain just as +Cleopatra blows in with her daughter. Honest Dan tells them to be +seated quick, because the professor has just got the spirit of her +husband where he's ready to talk to the reporters. The West Indian +hall boys sneak around in the back, rattlin' chains and bangin' on +pans. Then Dan reaches back and opens the mechanical bellows, and a +blast of cold air comes into the room while a white light flashes over +the cabinet. + +"Now!" whispers Dan to the stout dame, "speak quick!" + +At that minute, Dan looked like a guy with a ticket on a hundred to one +shot, watchin' it breeze into the stretch leadin' by by a city block. + +"Is--is that you Henery?" squeaks Cleopatra in a tremblin' voice. + +They's a rustle in the cabinet and then _this_ comes out over the top. + +"Generous gobs of Gazoopis! Our employees is ready, reckless and +Russian. This guy is crooked, crazy and careless. He will take you +for your beautiful, bulgin' bankroll and--" + +"Why, Henery!" squawks the dame, jumpin' up off the chair. + +I heard the well known dull thud on the other side of the cabinet, and +I guess it was Professor Parducci fallin' senseless on the floor. I +thought Honest Dan had dropped dead from the way he was hung over a +sofa. + +"Each and every day," goes on the voice in the cabinet, "each and every +day we ship a million lovely loaves--" + +"Merciful Heavens!" yells the dame. "A sign! Henery, shall I go back?" + +"Back is right!" says the voice. "These guys is cheap crooks and they +ain't no Marc Anthony!" + +The lights go out and Honest Dan comes to, rushin' over to the stout +dame with a million alibis tryin' to be first out of his mouth. I beat +it around to the back, but the professor has gone somewheres else while +the goin' was fair to medium. + +"You have deceived me, you wretch!" screams the stout dame. "You +have--" + +That's as far as she got, because right in the middle of it she pulls a +faint, and daughter eases her to the floor. The Kid hops out of the +cabinet and grabs Honest Dan. + +"Beat it, you rat," bawls Scanlan, "before I commit mayhem!" + +From the way Honest Dan went out of that room, he must have passed +Samoa, the first hour! + +Daughter reaches up and grabs the Kid's hand. + +"I--I--want to thank you," she says, "for saving my mother. I--I don't +know what might have happened, if you hadn't been here!" + +"That's all right!" pipes the Kid. "D'ye want us to do anything else?" + +"Yes," she says. "Will you tell me where you heard that--that +description of the--the million lovely loaves?" + +"Sure," answers the Kid. "When we was comin' East, we stopped off at a +hick burg somewheres and a guy took us over a bakery--" + +Daughter claps her hands and laughs. + +"Poetic justice!" she says. "That explains everything. My poor, dear +father founded that bakery, and those were the last advertisements for +it he wrote!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +LIFE IS REEL! + +The nation is bein' flooded these days with advertisements claimin' +that any white man which works for less than forty thousand bucks a +year is a sucker. The best of 'em is wrote by a friend of mine, Joe +Higgins, who gets all of twenty bucks every Saturday at six--one-thirty +in July, August and September. + +The ads that Joe tears off deals with inventions. He shows that Edison +prob'ly wouldn't of made a nickel over a million, if he hadn't +discovered everything but America, and that Bell, Marconi, Fulton and +that gang, wouldn't of been any better known to-day than ham and eggs, +if they hadn't used their brains for purposes of thinkin' and invented +somethin'. There's fortunes which would make the Vanderbilts and +Astors look like public charges, explains Joe, awaitin' the bird which +will quit playin' Kelly pool some night and invent a new way to do +_anything_. + +The ad winds up with the important information that the people which +Joe works for is so close to the patent office gang that they could get +French fried potatoes copyrighted. For the sum of "write for +particulars," they'll rush madly from Washington papers that'll protect +any idea you got, before some snake-in-the-grass friend plies you with +strawberry sundaes and steals your secret. At the bottom of this +there's a long list of things sadly needed by a sufferin' public, which +will willin'ly shower their inventor with medals and money,--things +like non-playable ukaleles, doctors which can guess what's the matter +with _you_ instead of your bankroll, grape fruit that won't hit back +while you're eatin' it, non-refillable jails and so forth. All you got +to do is stake yourself to a couple of test tubes, a white apron and a +laboratory, hire Edison, Marconi, Maxim and Hennery Ford as +assistants--with the U. S. Mint in back of you in case expenses come +up--and you'll wake up some mornin' to find yourself the talk of Fall +River. + +I been lookin' over these ads for a long time, but there's three names +I never seen on the list of famous inventors. They are to wit: the guy +that discovered the only absolute cure for rheumatism, the one that +invented the dope book on the female race and the bird that holds a +patent on the complete understandin' of human nature. I guess the +reason I never seen _their_ names is because the thing ain't really +been decided yet--there seems to be some difference of opinion. But if +you wanna find out how many guys there are that swear they invented +_all_ them things, look up the population of the world. The figures is +exactly the same. + +I ain't met nobody yet which didn't admit they had the only correct +dope on women, rheumatism and human nature, but I'm still waitin' to be +introduced to the guy which really knows anything at all about _any_ of +'em, when it gets right down to the box score! + +The nearest I ever come to knowin' the original patentee to two of 'em +was Eddie Duke. Eddie is one of the best men in the movable picture +game, accordin' to everybody but himself. _He_ concedes he's _the_ +best. He's a little, aggressive guy which would of prob'ly been a +lightweight champion, for instance, if it hadn't been for his parents. +They killed off his chances of makin' _big_ money, by slippin' him a +medium dose of education when he was too young to fight back. Eddie's +like a million other guys I know, all Half-way Henrys, you might call +'em. Too much brains to dig streets and not enough to own 'em! +Unhappy mediums that always calls _somebody_ boss! + +We're sittin' in Duke's office one mornin', when without even +knockin'--a remarkable thing for a movie star--in walks Edmund De +Vronde. Edmund has caused more salesladies to take their pens in hand +than any other actor in the world. His boudoir is hung with pictures +of dames from eight to eighty and from Flatbush to Florida. If some of +'em was actual reproductions, them dames was foolish for sellin' +shirtwaists, believe me! Edmund is as beautiful as five hundred a week +and built like Jack Dempsey. Off the screen he's as rough and ready as +a chorus man. + +"Hello, Cutey!" says the Kid, who liked De Vronde and carbolic acid the +same way. + +"I've come to ask a favor," says De Vronde. + +"Well," Duke tells him, lightin' a cigarette and lookin' straight at +the end of it, "we ain't gonna pay for no more autographed photos, we +won't fire the press agent, you gotta finish this picture with Miss +Hart and both them camera men that's shootin' this movie is high-class +mechanics and stays! Outside of that, I'm open to reason." + +"What I want will cost you nothing," says De Vronde. "That +is--practically nothing. My dresser,--the silly idiot!--tendered me +his resignation this morning!" + +"Well, what's all this gotta do with me?" he asks De Vronde. "I can't +be bothered diggin' up valets to see that you got plenty of fresh +vanilla cold cream every morning and that they's ample talcum powder on +the chiffonier! I got--" + +"I have already secured a man," interrupts De Vronde. "He happens to +be a--a--friend of mine. The poor fellow is desperately in need of +work. He's in Denver at present, and I'd like to have him on as soon +as possible. If we're to begin that big feature on Monday, I'm sure I +can't be bothered thinking about where this shirt and that cravat is, +and just what color combinations will be best for my costume in the +gypsy cave." + +"That's right!" grins the Kid. "Figure for yourself what would happen, +if Cutey forgot his mustache curler, for instance. The whole country +would be, now, aghast, and he'd be a nervous wreck in five minutes!" + +"So if you'll kindly telegraph the fare to this address," goes on De +Vronde, ignorin' the Kid, "I'll be obliged." + +With that he blows. + +"And the tough part of it is," moans Duke, reachin' for a 'phone, "I'll +have to do just that! It'll cost about sixty bucks to import this bird +here and when he gets here, it's nothin' but another mouth to feed. If +I had half the nerve of that big stiff De Vronde, I'd take a German +quartette over to London and make 'em sing the 'Wacht Am Rhein' in +front of Buckin'ham Palace!" + +"He claims this valet's a friend of his, too," says the Kid. "I'll bet +he'll turn out to be another one of them sweet spirits of nitre boys, +eh?" + +"If he is," growls Duke, "it won't be two days before he'll be sick and +tired of the movie game, you can bet two green certificates on that!" + +A week later, me and the Kid is standin' near the entrance to Film City +talkin' to Miss Vincent, when a young feller blows in through the gates +and walks up to us. He's one of them tall birds, as thin as a dime, +and his clothes has been brushed right into the grain. When the light +hit him, I seen they was places where even the grain had quit. His +shoes is so run over at the heels that they'd of fit nice and snug into +a car track and he'd just gone and shaved himself raw. + +One good look and this bird checked up as a member in good standin' of +one of the oldest lodges in the world. They got a branch in every +city, and they was organized around the time that Adam and Eve quit the +Garden of Eden for a steam-heated flat. The name of this order is "The +Shabby Genteels." + +But what transfixed the eye and held the attention, as we remark in the +workhouse, was this guy's face. I might say he had the most +inconsistent set of features I ever seen off the screen. He ain't a +thousand miles from bein' good-looking and his chin is well cut and +square, like at one time he'd been willin' to hustle for his wants and +fight for 'em once he got 'em, but that time ain't _now_! His eyes is +the tip-off. They don't look straight into yours when he talks--the +liar's best bet!--or they don't look at the ground, but they stare off +over your shoulder into the air, like he's seein' somethin' _you_ +can't, and it ain't pleasant to look at. + +I've seen that look on beaten fighters, when the winner is settin' +himself for the knockout, and I've seen it on the faces of other guys, +when some smug-jowled judge has reached into their lives and took ten +or twenty years as a deposit on what they'll do with the rest. It's a +look you don't forget right away, take it from me! + +Well, this feller that's walkin' up to us had that look. If a director +had yelled "Register despair!" at him, he could of just looked natural +and they'd of thought he was another Mansfield. + +And he's _young_! Get that? + +"Pardon me!" he says, takin' off his hat. "Where can I find Mister De +Vronde?" + +The Kid puts his hand on his arm and swings him around, + +"You'll pro'bly find him over behind the Street Scene in Venice," he +tells him. "If he ain't there, look around the Sahara Desert for +him--know him when you see him?" + +The other guy looks at us for a minute like he thinks he's bein' +kidded. Then he pulls a slow, tired grin. + +"I think so," he says. "Thanks!" + +When he walks away, I turns to Miss Vincent. + +"That's prob'ly Cutey De Vronde's new guardeen," I says. "I guess he--" + +"You and the Kaiser is the same kind of guessers!" butts in the Kid. +"He guessed we wouldn't scrap! If that guy we was just talkin' to is a +lady's maid for Cutey, I can sing like Caruso!" + +"He doesn't look like a valet," says Miss Vincent, kinda doubtful. + +"I don't blame him!" says the Kid. "And lemme tell you, he never got +them muscles from brushin' clothes and buttonin' vests. I felt his arm +when I swung him around that time, and this guy is just about as soft +as the Rock of Gibraltar!" + +"I can't understand," says Miss Vincent, "how a strong, healthy man can +be a valet--ugh!" she winds up, with a little shiver. + +"That's easy," sneers the Kid. "A _man_ can't!" + +Well, a man _did_! Gimme your ears, as the deaf guy said. + +The next mornin' it turns out that I can guess like a rabbit can run. +The new entry on the payroll borrehs a match from me, and durin' the +tete-a-tete that folleyed, I find out that his name is John R. Adams +and, as far as the world in general and America in particular is +concerned, it could of been George Q. Mud. Durin' the lifetime of +twenty-nine years he's been on earth, he's tried his hand at everything +from bankin' to bartenderin', and so far the only thing he's been a +success at is bein' a failure. At that he leads the league. And now, +to top it all off, he's a valet for a movie hero! + +"It's all a matter of luck!" he says, bitterly. "A man who tries these +days is not an ambitious hustler, but a _pest_ to the powers above him! +I defy a man to stand on his own feet and make good without influence. +It's not _what_ do you know any more, but _who_ do you know! I've been +a bookkeeper, a printer, a salesman, a chauffeur, a bank clerk, and, +yes, even a chorus man. At every one of those things I gave the best I +had in stock to get to the front. Did I get there? Not quite!" he +throws away the cigarette he's hardly had a puff of. "Why?" he asks +me. "Because in every trade or profession there's somebody with half +the sand and ability, who don't know the job's requirements but knows +the boss's son! I'm not a quitter or I wouldn't be here, but I'm sick +and disgusted with this thing called life and--" + +"And that's why you never got nowhere!" breaks in a voice behind +us--and there's Eddie Duke. Adams flushes up and starts away, but +Eddie pulls him back. + +"Listen to me, young feller!" he says. "I happened to hear your moan +just now and your dope is all wrong. There ain't no such thing as +luck; if there was, a blacksmith is the luckiest guy in the world and +oughta make a million a minute, because he's handlin' nothin' but +horseshoes all day long, ain't he? Forget about that luck stuff! +Makin' good is all in the way you look at it, anyways. A bricklayer +makin' thirty bucks a week, raisin' a family and bringin' home his pay +every Saturday night in his pocket instead of on his breath, is makin' +good as big as J. P. Morgan is--d'ye get me? Yes, sir, that bird can +say he's got over! Makin' good is like religion, every other guy has a +different idea of what it means, but there's many a feller swingin' a +pick that's makin' good just as much as the bird that owns the +ditch--in his own way! You claim a guy's got to know somebody these +days to get over, eh? Well, you got that one right, I'll admit it!" + +"Of course!" says Adams, brightenin' up. "That's my argument and--" + +"That ain't no argument, that's a whine!" sneers Duke, cuttin' him off +short. "Listen to me--you bet you gotta know somebody to get +anywheres, _you gotta know yourself_! That's all! Just lay off +thinkin' how lucky the other guy is, and give Stephen X. You a minute's +attention. You may be the biggest guy in the world at _somethin'_, if +you'll only check up on yourself and see what that somethin' is! +Remember Whosthis says, 'Full many a rose is born to blush unseen--' +Well, don't be one of them desert flowers; come into the city and let +'em all watch you blush. Get me? How did you happen to meet this big +stiff De Vronde?" + +Adams gets pale for a second and clears his throat. + +"I'm working for him," he says slowly, like he's thinkin' over each +word before lettin' it go, "and I don't care to discuss him." + +At just that minute, De Vronde, Miss Vincent, the Kid and another dame +come rollin' up in Miss Vincent's twelve-cylinder garage-mechanic's +friend. De Vronde hops out and walks over to us, wavin' his cane and +frownin'. + +"Look here!" he bawls at Adams. "I thought I told you to be at the +east gate with my duster and goggles? You've kept me waiting half an +hour, while you're gossiping around! Really, if you're going to start +this way, I shall have to get another man. Look sharp now, no excuses!" + +The Kid winks at me, noddin' to Adams who's lookin' at De Vronde with a +very peculiar gaze. I couldn't quite get what he's registerin'. Miss +Vincent looks interested and sits up. The other dame opens the door of +the car and stands on the runnin' board. + +"Here's where the fair Edmund gets his and gets it good!" hisses Duke +in my ear, lookin' at Adams. + +"I'm very sorry," says Adams, suddenly. "I should have remembered." + +And without another word or look, he exits. + +"Yellah!" snorts the Kid. + +"No spine!" sneers Miss Vincent. + +"Nick-looking boy--who is he?" asks the other dame, lookin' after him. + +Duke slaps his hands together all of a sudden and gazes at her like a +guy gettin' his first flash at his hour-old son. Then he looks after +Adams, grins and claps his hands again. + +"Who is he?" repeats the dame. + +De Vronde sneers. + +"Really," he says, "your interest is surprising. That fellow is my--" + +"Shut up!" roars Duke, springin' to the runnin'-board. "Here!" he goes +on, talkin' fast. "I'm gonna shoot them two interiors in half a hour, +so you better call this joy ride off!" He turns to the strange dame +and speaks very polite, "Miss Vincent will show you everything; if you +want anything, just 'phone the office." + +When they're gone, Duke turns to me and grins. + +"I often heard you say you made Scanlan welterweight champ," he says, +"by _pickin'_ the guys he was to fight till he got where he could lick +'em _all_. Well, I'm gonna do the same thing for our friend Mister +Jack Adams, valet for Edmund De Vronde, the salesladies' joy. I'm +goin' in that boy's corner from this day on, and, when I get through, +he'll be a champ!" + +"What?" I says. "Train a guy like that for the ring? Why--" + +"I see you don't make me," he interrupts, "which is just as well, +because you'd be liable to ball the whole thing up, if you did. This +kid Adams has got symptoms of bein' a he-man in his face. He's hit the +bumps good and hard and right now he's down, takin' a long count. Now +whether he needs to be helped or kicked to his feet, I don't know, but +I'm the baby that's gonna stand him up!" + +"Well," I tells him, "go to it! But the thing I can't figure, is what +d'you care if he gets over or not--who pays _you_ off on it?" + +He looks me over for a minute, registerin' deep thought. + +"I'm gonna give you the works!" he says finally. "And if you ever +mention a word of this to anybody, they'll have to identify your body +afterwards by that green vest you got!" + +"Rockefeller's three dollars short of havin' enough money to make me +tell!" I says. + +"Fair enough!" says Duke. "Did you notice that strange dame which was +with Miss Vincent in the car just now?" + +"The blonde that would of made Marc Anthony throw away Cleopatra's +'phone number?" I asks. "Yeh--I noticed her. Easily that!" + +"Well," he says, "this dame, which was such a knockout to you, is Miss +Dorothy Devine. When her father died last year, she become a orphan." + +"Well, that's tough," I says. "Me and the Kid will kick in with any +amount in reason and--" + +"Halt!" said Eddie. "Her dear old father only left her a pittance of +fifty thousand a year and two-thirds control of the company we're all +workin' for out here. Now besides bein' several jumps ahead of the +average dame in looks, Dorothy is a few centuries ahead of the movies +in ideas. She claims we're all wrong, and she's gonna revolutionize +the watch-'em-move photo industry. That's what she's here for now!" + +"Well," I says after a bit, "what d'ye expect _me_ to do--bust out +cryin'?" + +"Not yet!" he says. "I'll tell you when. Accordin' to Dorothy, all +the pictures we put out are rotten. Our heroes and villains are +plucked alive from dime novels and is everything but true to life. Our +heroines belong in fairy tales and oughta be let stay there. _She_ +claims that no beautiful girl with more money than the U. S. Mint would +fall for the handsome lumberjack, and that no guy who couldn't do +nothin' better than punch cows would become boss of the ranch through +love of the owner's daughter. All that stuff's the bunk, she says. +Her dope is that a real man would boost himself to the top, girl or no +girl, and the woman never lived which could put a man over, if he +didn't have the pep himself. As a finish, she tells me that no +healthy, intelligent girl would stand for the typical movie hero. A +bird which would go out and ride roughshod over all the villains like +they do in the films would nauseate her, she says, and we have no right +to encourage this bunk by feedin' it to an innocent public!" + +"Eddie," I says, "she ain't a mile off the track, at that! This--" + +"Oh, she ain't, eh?" he snarls. "Well that shows that you and her +knows as much about human nature as I do about makin' a watch! Miss +Devine wants us to put on a movie that she committed herself, and, if +we do, we'll be the laughin' stock of the world and Big Bend. It's got +everything in it but a hero, a heroine, a villain, action and love +interest. It's about as hot as one of them educational thrillers like +'Natives Makin' Panama Hats in Peoria' would be. A couple of these +would put the company on the blink, and I lose a ten-year contract at +ample money a year!" + +"Well," I says, "what are you gonna do--quit?" + +"Your mind must be as clean as a baby's," he says, "because you got +your first time to use it! No, I ain't gonna quit! I'm gonna show +Miss Dorothy Devine that as a judge of movin' pictures, she's a +swell-lookin' girl. I like these tough games, a guy feels so good all +over when he wins 'em. She's startin' with all the cards--money, looks +and, what counts more, she's just about the Big Boss here now. All I +got is one good card and that's only a jack--Jack Adams, to be +exact--and I'm gonna beat her with him!" + +"I'll fall!" I says. "How?" + +"Well," he tells me, "my argument is that all these thrillers we put on +are sad, weary and slow compared to some of the things that happen in +real life every day that we never hear about. They's many a telephone +girl, for instance, makin' a man outa a millionaire's no-good son and +many a sure-enough heiress bein' responsible for the first mate on a +whaler becomin' her kind and a director in the firm! I claim it does +_good_ and not harm, to feed this stuff to a trustin' public by way of +the screen. Why? Because every shippin'-clerk that's sittin' out in +front puts himself in the hero's place and every salesgirl dreams that +she's the heroine. Without thinkin', they both get to pickin' up the +virtues we pin on our stars, and it can't _help_ but do 'em good! I +don't know who started the shimmy, but I know women and I know human +nature, and knowin' 'em both, I'm gonna make a sportin' proposition to +Miss Dorothy Devine!" + +"What's the bet?" I says. "I may take some of it myself." + +"The bet is this," he tells me. "Here's this boy Adams, who, bein' De +Vronde's valet, is undisputed low man in Film City. He's disgusted +with life, he ain't got the ambition of a sleepin' alligator, or nerve +enough to speak harshly to _himself_. All right! If Miss Devine will +follow my orders for a couple of weeks without Adams knowin' who or +what she is, I claim that bird will make good! All that guy needs is a +reason for tryin', and she can make herself it!" + +"You don't expect a dame like that to make love to a guy that cleans De +Vronde's shoes, do you?" I asks him. + +"You must of been a terrible trial to teacher when you went to school!" +he snorts. "No!--I don't want her to make love to him. I want to +prove to her that the things we put in the movies is happenin' all the +time in real life, only more so! I want her to make Adams _feel_ just +how far back he's gone. I want her to cut him dead, because he's a +valet, and let him know that's the reason. Then nature and him will do +the rest, or I'll pay off! Who put Adam over? Eve! All right, I'm +gonna wind this thing up and let it go. I'll take the best scenes from +the last six pictures we put out, and make Adams and Miss Devine play +'em out, without either of 'em knowin' it. They oughta be a villain, +and I'm shy one just now, but I'll lay six to five that one will turn +up!" + +"Look here!" I says. "Suppose Miss Devine should fall for this Adams +guy for _real_! Did you ever figure that?" + +"Yes!" he snorts. "And suppose the Pacific Ocean is made outa root +beer!" + +I guess Miss Devine must of been a sport, because Duke starts his +stunts off the next day. She promised to give Adams a month to show +signs of life and to do exactly as Duke tells her. Adams ain't to be +told a thing about it, and Miss Devine giggles herself sick over how +she's gonna show Duke the difference between real life and the movies. +They put up a thousand bucks apiece. + +The first action come off when Miss Devine and Adams meets in the +"Sahara Desert" set. + +"Good morning!" pipes Adams, bowin' and raisin' his hat. + +"I beg your pardon!" comes back Miss. Devine, drawin' herself up and +presentin' him with a glance that's colder than a dollar's worth of ice. + +"I--I--said good morning!" stammers Adams, kinda flustered. + +"You have made a mistake, my man!" she says, each word bein' about +twenty below zero. "A mistake I shall report to your master. I--" + +"But--," begins Adams, gettin' red. "You--" + +"That will do!" she cuts him off. "I'm not in the habit of arguing +with servants. You may go!" + +Sweet cookie! + +The poor kid looks like he'd stopped one with his chin and for the +first time since I'd seen him, he straightens up with his hard, white +face fairly quiverin'. I thought he was ready for a peach of a +come-back, but he fooled me. He walks off without a word. + +Miss Devine laughs like a kid with a new rattle and snaps her fingers +after him. + +The next day, Duke is directin' a scene in a big thriller they're +puttin' on and Miss Devine is appearin' in it as a super at his orders. +She's wearin' enough jewels to free Ireland and she looked better than +1912 would look to Germany. Adams is standin' on one side with his +arms full of De Vronde's different changes. + +Duke looks at Miss Devine for a minute and then raises his voice. + +"Say--you!" he bawls at her. "What's the matter, can't you hear? You +made that exit wrong four times runnin', d'ye think we get this film +for nothin'? What d'ye mean by comin' here and ruinin' this scene on +me, eh? You wanna be a movie star, they tell me--well, you got the +same chance that I have of bein' made Sultan of Turkey! If you can +act, I'm King of Shantung! Why--" + +Miss Devine gasps and looks more than ever like a rose, by turnin' a +deep and becomin' shade of red. Nobody pays any attention to the +thing. They'd all heard it a million times before, when Duke was +rehearsin' supers. + +Nobody but Adams! + +He drops all of De Vronde's clothes right on the floor, and I thought +the fair Edmund would faint away dead! Adams walks right through the +camera men up to Duke and swings him around while he's still bawlin' +out Miss Devine. + +"That's enough!" he snarls, white to the ears. "One more word to this +lady, and I'll knock you down! You hound--you wouldn't dare use that +language to a man!" + +Duke's eyes sparkle, but he looks Adams over coolly and sneers. + +"Curse you, Jack Dalton!" he says. "Unhand that woman, or you shall +feel my power, eh?" He sticks his chin close to Adams's face. "Take +the air!" he growls. "Where d'ye get that leadin' man stuff? If I see +you around here any more this afternoon, I'll fire you and you'll walk +home for all the money you'll draw from this man's firm. Now, beat it!" + +Adams hesitates a minute, and then he looks like on second thought he's +scared at what he's done. He mumbles somethin' and walks right outa +the picture, nor even turnin' when De Vronde squawks at him for walkin' +over his silk duster which he'd throwed on the floor. + +"That's all for now, ladies and gentlemen!" pipes Duke suddenly, +turnin' to the bunch. "I'll shoot the rest of this to-morrow." + +They all blow out except Miss Devine. Duke looks at her, rubbin' his +hands together and grinnin'. + +"All right!" she smiles back. "First honors! What will I do next?" + +She didn't have to do nothin' next! The thing that Duke had started +got away from him and Adams led all the tricks from then to the finish. +Duke told me afterwards he felt like a guy which has lit a match on +Lower Broadway and seen the Woolworth Buildin' go up in flames! + +The very next afternoon, Mister Jack Adams becomes a star. Yes, sir! + +A gang of supers is hangin' around the general offices waitin' for +their pay. De Vronde and Miss Devine is sittin' at a cute little table +under a tree drinkin' lemonade, and Adams is standin' with the supers, +watchin'--Miss Devine. + +"Look at that big stiff tryin' to make the dame!" pipes one of the +extrys, a big husky grabbed up off the wharves in Frisco. He points at +De Vronde. "If I was built like he is, I'd eat arsenic!" + +Adams walks over to him. + +"Why?" he says, very cool and hard. + +"Heh?" says the super. "Why, look at 'im. Lookit the lace shirt he's +wearin' and them pink socks. Why--" + +"Shut up!" snarls Adams. "I know your kind--you think because a man +bathes, shaves, speaks English and wears clean linen, that there's +something wrong with him! You roughnecks resent the--" + +"Well, I'd hate to be the family that brung that up!" interrupts the +super. "Gawd! It makes a man sick to look at 'im!" + +It all happened so quick that even Miss Devine and De Vronde didn't get +it. They's just a sudden swish--a crack of bone meetin' bone, and the +big super is flat on his ear! The rest of the gang mills around, +shoutin' and yellin', and Adams prods the super with the toe of his +shoe. I see Duke runnin' over with a couple of camera men which is so +excited they've even brought their machines along. + +"Listen!" spits out Adams, bendin' over the fallen gladiator. "Don't +make any more remarks like that about--about Mister De Vronde, while +I'm in this camp! If you do, I'll hammer you to mush! If you don't +believe that, get up now and I'll illustrate it!" + +The super plays dead, and Adams turns away. + +By this time, Miss Devine and De Vronde, on the outskirts of the mob, +has seen some of it. + +"Really," says De Vronde, frowning "you'll have to stop this brawling, +Adams! I can't have my man--" + +Adams gives him the up and down. + +"Aw, shut up!" he snarls--and blows. + +Well, right now I'm a million miles up in the air and no more +interested in the thing than the bartenders was in final returns of the +prohibition vote. They's two things I can't figure at all. One of 'em +is why Adams should knock a man kickin' for roastin' De Vronde, who +didn't have a friend in the place, and the other is what Duke and them +camera men is doin' there. + +About a week blows by, and then Miss Devine rides out alone one mornin' +on a big white stallion. In a hour the horse trots into camp with the +saddle empty. For the next twenty minutes they's more excitement in +and about Film City than they was at the burnin' of Rome, but while +Duke is gettin' up searchin' parties, Adams has cranked up Miss +Devine's roadster and is a speck of dust goin' towards Frisco. + +It was around five o'clock that afternoon, when he comes back and Miss +Devine is sittin' beside him. Her ankle is all bound up with +handkerchiefs and Adams is drivin' very slow and careful. He stops and +then turns to help her outa the car, but she dodges his arm, steps down +all by herself and without any sign of a limp, walks into the general +offices. + +Adams stands lookin' after her for a minute, kinda stunned. + +"What was the matter?" I asks him, runnin' up. + +"Why," he says, without lookin' at me; "she broke--she said she broke +her ankle. She--" + +Then he turns and runs the car into the garage. + +The next mornin' he quits! + +Duke broke the news, comin' over to Miss Devine, while I'm tellin' her +how Kid Scanlan clouted his way up to the title. + +"Well, Miss Devine," he growls, "I guess you win! Adams has left Film +City flat on its back. I thought that bird had the stuff in him, but I +guess you saw deeper than I did!" + +"I guess I did!" says Miss Devine kinda slow. "I knew he'd never stay." + +Duke clears his throat a coupla times, blows his nose and wipes his +forehead with a silk handkerchief--his only dissipation. + +"And now I got a confession to make," he says, throwin' back his +shoulders like he's bracin' himself for a punch. "Ever since the day I +played you against Adams, I been takin' a movie of you and him. Every +time you was together they was a camera man--and a good one--in the +offin'. You didn't know it and neither did Adams, but the result is a +peach of a movie that'll make us a lot of money, if you'll let me +release it. All I need is a couple more close-ups and--" + +Miss Devine has been listenin' like she was in a trance. She turned +more colors than they is in the flag, and, lemme tell you, they all +become her! + +"You--you--made a picture out of our--out of--me?" she gasps. + +Whatever else Eddie Duke is, he's game. + +"Yeh!" he nods. "And wait till you see it--it's great! Why, you got +Pickford lookin' like a amateur, and Adams will be a riot with the +girls the minute this movie's released! I wanted to prove to you that +the movies ain't got a thing on real life, and I did! Why Adams can +sign a contract with me any time he wants. That's makin' good, ain't +it? From valet to movie star in five reels--and who put him over? +_You_!!!" + +Before Miss Devine can say anything, we hear voices behind us. We're +standin' by a high hedge that had been set up for a picture that +mornin', and it was Miss Devine that motioned us to keep quiet. The +voices on the other side are Adams and De Vronde. + +"I've done my share!" De Vronde is sayin'. "I've been sending home--" + +"Eighty dollars a month!" cuts in Adams, in that new, cold voice of +his. "Eighty dollars a month to your father and mother, and you're +making a thousand a week. Eighty dollars a month, and you pay a +hundred and fifty for a suit! It's hard for me to call you a brother +of mine! Do you know why I whipped that bum the other day? For what +he said about you? No! Because I didn't want it thought that the +whole family was as yellow as you are! But I'm going to make you game. +You're going to turn what money you've hoarded over to Dad." + +We're all lookin' at each other--dumb-founded! Even Duke is pale and +pop-eyed. + +"By the Eternal, Miss Devine," he whispers in her ear. "I swear I +didn't know _that_! It don't happen in real life, eh? _Brothers_--by +the dust of Methuselah!" + +De Vronde is speakin', and we bend to listen. + +"I can't!" he chokes out. "Why, I'll--" + +We hear Adams snort. + +"Stop!" he says. "You can make more money than I can and make Ma and +Dad comfortable for the rest of their days. I'm going--" + +"About that girl--that Miss Devine," De Vronde breaks in, his voice +shaking "It's only right that you should know. She's made an ass of +you--she and that Duke person! You've been followed about and +everything you've done has been recorded by a camera. She had no +accident the other day--her ankle wasn't hurt--the horse was sent back +with the empty saddle deliberately--they photographed that, too! They +had a silly bet of some sort and--" + +Miss Devine steps deliberately right around the side of the hedge +almost into Adams's arms. He's white and lookin' much like he did the +first day he blowed into Film City. The minute he sees her he +straightens up. + +"How long have you been here?" he clips out. + +"I've heard--everything!" she says, lookin' him right in the eye. + +Adams runs his hand through his hair, and pulls a look that went +through me to the bone. I don't know how it hit Miss Devine. + +"And all of this--this--your attitude toward me--the accident--was +played to make a picture?" he says. + +"Yes!" says Miss Devine. "All except _this_!" And I hope I never see +another movie, if both her arms didn't go around his neck--right out +loud in public, too! "All except _this_!" she repeats. "And, oh, +Jack--this is _real_!!" + +"I win a thousand bucks!" pants Duke, draggin' me away--De Vronde blew +the minute she appeared on the scene--"I win a thousand bucks!" he +says. "And the picture is gonna be a riot! If they was only a good +camera man here now for that close up at the finish, eh? Still--I +guess that would be too raw!" He looks back where Adams and Miss +Devine is posin' for a picture of still life. "And she said this love +stuff was the bunk!" he hollers. "Oh, boy!!!!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +HOSPITAL STUFF + +Every time I see a thermometer, a watch, and a egg my temperature +aviates to about a hundred and ninety-eight in the shade--and if they's +nobody lookin' I bust 'em! I spent two months and eight hundred bucks +with that layout once and, oh, lady!--Say! The next time I feel a +vacation comin' on, I'm goin' to Russia and holler, "Hooray for the +Czar!" + +I just been Red-Crossed to within a inch of my life and I'm off that +"take-two-once-every-twice, and don't-eat-any-this-or-drink-any-that" +stuff! The right cross and the double cross has been little pals of +mine for years, and I once got throwed out of school for pullin' that +"How to make a maltese cross" thing, but the _red_ one was all new to +me up to last month. + +They call me a glutton for punishment, but I got--enough! + +I can't go in a drug store no more, because the sight of the +prescription bar in the rear affects me like strong drink and I even +had to lay off peas, because they look like pills. + +All the food I got durin' the time I become a victim of the Red Cross +could have been carried over the Rocky Mountains by a lame ant, and I +got a hole in my wrist that can be used as a ash tray from doctors +grabbin' it to give my pulse early mornin' workouts and clockin' it +over the full course. I was allowed two kinds of milk to drink--hot +and cold. The only thing I could get to read was wrote to order on the +premises and was all on the same subject, "Shake well before using!" + +The whole thing was brought on by two words and Genaro, which was +puttin' on this five-reel barbecue called "How Kid Scanlan Won the +Title," and take it from me, if the Kid had pulled off in Manhattan +some of the stunts he did in that picture, he would have won more than +the welterweight title--he'd have won the oil business from Rockefeller +the first night! + +The two words was "Don't jump!" and Genaro _didn't_ say 'em--if he had, +the Kid would never have dove off a cliff and sprained his +million-dollar left arm, which triflin' detail caused _me_ to get my +mail at a hospital for two months. + +It was in the third reel of this picture, which I see by the billboards +is liable to thrill the nation, that the thing happened. The Kid is +supposed to jump off a cliff to fool the plotters which is tryin' to +stop him from winnin' the title. They had picked out two of them +cliffs--one of 'em was a drop of three feet and the other was a drop of +twenty-one miles, accordin' to Scanlan, who made it and ought to know. +Anyhow, it was far enough! They was gonna show a close-up of the high +one first and then take a flash of Scanlan leapin' from the little one. +The Kid walks to the edge of that high one, looks down and some +fat-head camera man points a machine at him and starts turnin' the +crank. Genaro was to wave his handkerchief as a signal for the Kid to +dive off the _little_ cliff and Scanlan, kinda puzzled, watches him. +Just as he's walkin' away from the edge, Genaro blows his nose! The +Kid sees the camera man and the handkerchief, and not wantin' to act +yellah before the bunch, he--jumps! + +A lot of excitement was had by all and Scanlan sprained his arm. + +"Ah!" yells Genaro. "She'sa make the greata scene! What you think +thisa Meester Scanlan he'sa joomp off wan mountain for art? That'sa +real arteeste! He'sa killa himself for maka picture for Genaro! Ah--I +embrace heem!" + +Miss Vincent begins by faintin'. Then she comes to, throws a rock at a +camera man which is takin' a close up of her unconscious, kneels at the +Kid's side and kisses him right out loud before everybody. She claims, +if he proves to be dead, she'll leave the company flat and have Genaro +tried for murder before a judge which had been tryin' for two years to +do somethin' for her. They finally carried the Kid up to the hotel, +and sent for a doctor which was recommended by Eddie Duke. Accordin' +to Eddie, this friend of his had the average doctor lookin' like a drug +clerk. Pluckin' people from the grave was his specialty, says Eddie. + +I guess they had to wait till this graverobber graduated from college, +because it was over a hour before he showed up. He gets out of a buggy +that was all the rage about the time Washington was thinkin' of goin' +in the army, and the animal that was draggin' it along had been a total +failure at tryin' to be a horse. The doc wasn't a day over +seventy-five and he was dressed in a hat that must have come with the +buggy, a pair of shoes like grandpa used to wear to work and a set of +white whiskers. If he had any clothes on, I didn't see 'em. All I +seen was them whiskers! I figured, if he had plucked people from the +grave, like Eddie Duke claimed, he must have did it after they was dead. + +He didn't look very encouragin' to me, but I led him upstairs and into +the room where Scanlan was just comin' to and askin' what round it was. +Eddie Duke and Miss Vincent was at his bedside, and the rest of the +gang was outside the door arguyin' over which was the best undertaker +in Frisco. I slipped away to a telephone booth and called up +information. + +"Gimme the best doctor in California!" I says, flickin' a jitney in the +slot. + +"For a nickel?" giggles the dame on the other end. + +"Stop it!" I says. "I got a man here that's liable to croak any +minute--this ain't no time for comedy! Ah--what time do you get off?" + +"I never go out with strangers," she says, "but you got a nice voice at +that. Where is your friend doin' his sufferin' at?" + +"Film City!" I tells her. "And my voice ain't got nothin' on yours. I +don't want to give you no short answer, but can I get the doctor now?" + +"I got him waitin'," she says. "If I was you, I wouldn't let 'em fill +your friend full of dope; fresh air and sunshine's got the druggist +beat eighty ways! Good-by, Cutey--gimme a ring after the funeral!" + +"This is the Hillcrest Sanitarium," pipes another voice over the wire, +very sedate and dignified. + +"And this is Johnny Green," I comes back, "manager of Kid Scanlan, the +welterweight champ. We've throwed you people a lot of trade. Only a +short while ago Scanlan flattened Young Hogan in two rounds, and Hogan +was took there from the ring, remember? Well, I want the boss doctor +there sent to Film City right away!" + +With that begins a argument that went about fifteen minutes, and which +I finally win by a shade. It seems it wasn't the regular thing for the +head doctor there to answer night bells and so forth, like a ordinary +medico, and the goin' was rather tough for awhile. Three or four +times, when I was ready to quit, this telephone dame, which was takin' +it all in with both ears, cut in with advice and helpful hints till the +guy on the other end had enough and says he'll come. + +The first thing that met my eye, when I got back to the Kid, was Eddie +Duke's friend, the greatest doctor in the world. He was walkin' very +fast away from the hotel and mutterin' to himself. I just had time to +grab his arm, as he jumps in the buggy and reaches for the whip. + +"Will he live, doc?" I asks him. + +"Bah!" he snorts, jerkin' away from me. "The ignorant little pup!" + +He whales Old Dobbin with the whip and leaves me flat. + +I couldn't figure out what the Kid's education had to do with his +health, so I beats it upstairs and all but fell over Eddie Duke. He's +holdin' one eye and mumblin' somethin' about "roughnecks" and +"ingratitude." I kept on through the crowd and into the Kid's room. +Scanlan is still on the bed groanin', and beside him is the hotel +clerk, thumbin' a almanac. + +"Wait!" pants the clerk, as I come in. "I'll have it in a second." He +turns over a lot more pages and then he hollers, "Ah! Here we +are--what did I tell you? 'First Aid to the Injured.'" He clears his +throat and the Kid looks up hopefully. "Number one," reads the clerk. +"_'First send for a physician!'_" He drops the book and dashes for the +door. "Don't do nothing till I get back!" he yells. + +Scanlan starts to go after him, but moans and falls back on the bed. + +"I wish I had a gun!" he snarls. "That big boob has been here fifteen +minutes tellin' me all he was gonna do for me as soon as he found it in +the book! He--" + +"Didn't the doctor do no good?" I butts in, sittin' on the side of the +bed. + +"Doctor?" says the Kid. "What doctor?" + +"Eddie Duke's friend," I tells him. "The old--" + +Scanlan leans up on his good arm. + +"Listen, Johnny!" he says. "I still got a wallop in my right! Don't +kid me now or--" + +"What d'ye mean kid you?" I asks him. "Didn't the doctor--" + +"Doctor!" he interrupts me, slammin' down the pillow. "If that guy was +a doctor, I'm Caruso! He comes in here where I'm practically dyin' and +tries to sell me a book!" + +"Gimme it all!" I gasps. + +"He sits down at the bed," explains the Kid, "and takes a big, black +book out of what I figured was his medicine chest. He holds it up and +asks me if I see it and I says I did, thinkin' I had passed the first +test easy. Then he says he wrote the book himself and it's full of +hope and cheer or dope and beer--to tell you the truth, I don't know +which it was on account of the pain. Anyhow, I let him get away with +it, and he tells me to think of how lucky I actually am alongside of +the Crown's Prince of Germany--and then he begins to read from that +book! It seems it's a novel about faith bein' stronger than pain. By +this time, I seen that he was either nutty or tryin' to kid me, so I +cut him off by askin' him when he's gonna fix up my arm. He says he's +doin' it now, and when he gets through, he'll leave the book which will +be a total of twenty-five bucks. When I come to, I ask him how long he +had been a doctor, and he gets sore and claims he's a healer of the +Mystic Sliders or somethin' like that, and what do I mean by callin' +him a doctor? Then I called him a few other things so's he wouldn't +have no kick comin' and gave him the bum's rush out of the room. Eddie +Duke starts to moan about me maulin' his friend, and--well, get him to +show you his eye!" + +The door opens suddenly and Miss Vincent sticks the curls which all the +shop girls is copyin' around the side of it. + +"It's the doctor!" she whispers. + +"Say!" pipes the Kid, grabbin' a pillow. "That old guy is game, eh?" + +"A fightin' fool!" I agrees. + +But this time a tall, solemn-lookin' guy breezes into the room and +stares at me and the Kid with the same warm friendliness that a +motorcycle cop regards a boob tryin' out a new auto. I figured he was +the bird I had ordered by 'phone, and hit 1000 on the guess. He leans +over the Kid, prods him around a bit, and then goes over him like he +had lost somethin' and thought maybe he'd find it there. Then he +straightens up and grunts. + +"Hmph!" he says. "This man is a nervous wreck! Completely run +down--needs rest and diet. I have my car outside and can take him over +to the sanitarium, if--are you a relative?" + +"His manager," I explains. "How about the arm, doc?" + +"Nothing!" he says. "Wrenched--that's all. Come--help him downstairs, +I'll wait." + +I took out a five-case note. + +"What do we owe you, doc?" I asks him, hopin' for the best. + +"My consultation fee is fifty dollars!" he says, without battin' an eye. + +I staggered back against the bureau. + +"Every time you see me it's gonna set me back fifty?" asks the Kid, +with tears in his voice. + +The doc gives him a cold nod. + +"Couldn't I take some treatment by mail?" pipes Scanlan, hopefully. + +"Cease!" I says, takin' out the old checkbook. "What's your name, doc?" + +"James," he says, "J. T. James." + +"What's the J stand for?" I asks, shakin' out the pen. + +"Jesse!" butts in Scanlan. "Heh, doc?" + +"Do you mean to insinuate that I'm robbing you?" says the doc, frownin' +at him. + +"No," says the Kid, takin' the check from me and handin' it to him, "I +don't blame a guy for tryin', but--" + +I shut him off and dragged him downstairs before they was any hard +feelin's. We climbed in the doctor's bus and at the Kid's request, +Miss Vincent come along with us. Then we went after the road record +between Film City and the Hillcrest Sanitarium. I guess this doctor +was born with a steerin' wheel in his hand, because we took some +corners on that trip that would have worried a snake, and when he threw +her in high, we breezed along so swift we could have made a bullet +quit. Finally, we come to a great big buildin' all hedged off with an +iron fence and if you've ever seen a souvenir post card with "Havin' a +fine time. Wish you were here," on it, you know what it looked like. + +The doctor tells me and Miss Vincent to wait in the office, and he goes +out with the Kid. In about fifteen minutes he's back and calls me over +to a desk. They's a long piece of paper there and he says to sit down +and fill it out, but, after one flash at it, I asked him could I take +it home to work over, because my fountain pen was better on sprints +than long distance writin' and this looked like a good two-hour job. +He gives me another one of them North Pole stares and remarks that if +the thing ain't filled out at once, the Kid won't be admitted to the +sanitarium. + +"He's in now, ain't he?" I comes back. + +"Yes!" he snaps. "And he'll be out, if that paper isn't drawn up +instantly!" + +Miss Vincent giggles and hisses in my ear. + +"They say the child is in London!" she pipes. "Sign that paper, curse +you! We are in his power!" + +Well, I seen I had to do a piece of writing so I grabbed up that paper +and let the fountain pen go crazy. I give the Kid's entire name, where +he was born, what his people did to fool the almshouse, what was his +mother's maiden name and why, whether he went to church or Billy +Sunday, was he white and could he prove it, who started the war and a +lot of bunk like that. The guy who doped out the entrance examinations +for that hospital must have been figurin' on how many he could keep +_out_. When I run out of ink, I took out a copy of the _Sportin' +Annual_, tore off the Kid's record and pasted it at the bottom of the +page. + +"How's that?" I asks, passin' it over. + +"Very well," he says, glancin' at it. "Mister Scanlan is in room 45. +That will be one-fifty--a hundred and fifty!" + +"The price," I says, gettin' dizzy. "Not your weight!" + +"That's the price," he tells me. "A hundred and fifty a week." + +"I'm afraid the old bankroll is _too_ weak," I says,--"too weak for +that, anyhow. Drag the Kid out of that bridal suite and let him sleep +in the hall. I'll--" + +"Why, the idea!" butts in Miss Vincent. "You let him stay where he is, +doctor. The money will be paid." + +Before I could say anything, the door opens and in comes the dame that +poses for all the magazine covers, dressed like a nurse. I never was +much on describin'--I probably wouldn't have got ten people to watch +the battle of Gettysburg if I'd have been the press agent--but this was +the kind of dame that all the wealthy patients fall in love with in the +movies--yeh, and out of 'em! The little white cap on top of her head +looked like a dash of whipped cream on a peach sundae, and if you +wouldn't have blowed up the city hall for the smile she sent around the +room, I feel sorry for you. She crosses over and, in passin' me, she +begs my pardon and threw that smile into high. + +A hundred and fifty a week, eh? Well--I dives in my inside pocket. + +"May I have your check, Mister--eh--ah--" pipes the doc. + +"Green," I helps him out, "Johnny Green. Can you have a _check_? You +said it!" I sits down and writes one out. + +"Why this is for three hundred dollars!" he busts out, lookin' at it. + +"Even so, brother," I grins, stealin' a slant at the Venus de +California. "That's for me and the Kid. Gimme a room next to his +and--" + +"Do you think this is a hotel?" he frowns at me. + +"I should care!" I tells him. "Let me in--that's all _I_ want!" + +With that the nurse remarks that the Kid is ready to see us, so me and +Miss Vincent folleys her down the hall and she opens a door and calls +in, + +"Visitors, Mister Scanlan!" + +"Yeh?" pipes the Kid in a show-em-the exit voice. "Ah--can I have a +drink of--ah--water?" + +"Certainly," she says. "I'll bring it now." + +"Don't rush it!" says the Kid. "It might curdle! Wait till the +attendance falls off a bit!" + +She laughs--and Miss Vincent didn't. + +"Oho!" whispers the pet of the movies. "Like that, eh?" + +We go in the room, and there's Scanlan layin' in the whitest bed I even +seen in my life and lookin' about as miserable as a millionaire's +nephew on the day his uncle dies. There's about three hundred pillows +under his head and neck, his arm is all bandaged up and beside the bed +is a table with a set of flowers on it. + +And then there was that nurse! + +"Pretty soft!" I says. + +The Kid grins and then twists around to Miss Vincent and groans. + +"Does it hurt much, you poor dear?" she says. + +"I wonder how I stand it!" pipes the Kid, keepin' his face from me. + +"Can I get you anything?" she asks him after a minute. + +"Well," answers the Kid, "if I did want something we could send Johnny +for it." He looks at me meanin'ly. "Go out and git the right time!" +he tells me. "And while you're at it--take lots of it!" + +I went outside and closed the door. I remembered bein' in a hospital +once, where they was examinin' guys for nerves, and one of the tests +was hittin' 'em in the knee with a book and watchin' if their legs flew +out. I don't remember the name of the book, but I figured on takin' a +chance. I breezed out to the desk in the hall and filled out one of +them entry blanks about myself, and then I dug up the doctor. + +"Doc," I says, "I wish you'd gimme the East and West, there's somethin' +the matter with my nerve. I know you can fix me up, if anybody can, +because you got so much yourself." + +"Just what is the East and West?" he asks me. + +"Why, look me over!" I explains. "I wanna see what I need or should +get rid of." + +He leads me in a little room to one side, and goes over me like a +lawyer lookin' for a clause in a contract he can bust. He looks at my +tongue till it begin to quiver from exposure to the air; he clocks my +pulse at a mile, two miles and over the jumps; he stuck a telephone +like you see in the foreign movies over my heart and listened in on the +internal gossip for twenty minutes; he walloped me on the chest with +the best he had and made me sing a song called +"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!" Then he shakes his head and tells me to put +on my coat. + +"You're one of the healthiest specimens I ever examined!" he says. +"There's absolutely nothing the matter with you." + +"Well, that's certainly tough, doc," I tells him, "because I sure want +to win one of them rooms like Scanlan has. I--wait a minute!" I +hollers, gettin' a flash. "You didn't gimme the book test!" + +I hops over to the desk and grabs up a book off it. It was a big thick +one called "Paralysis to Pneumonia," and was written by a couple of +Greeks named "Symptoms and Therapeutics." I never heard of the thing +before, and I wished it had been "Uncle Tom's Cabin" or somethin' like +that, but I took a chance. + +"Here!" I says. "I don't know if this is the right one or not, but +let's try it out on my knee, eh?" + +I seen he didn't make me, so I explains about the nerve test I seen +where some of the guys throwed out their legs when hit, and some of 'em +didn't. He gimme the laugh then, and tells me to look out of the +window. I did and they's a terrible crash in back of me, but I kept +lookin' out like he told me. Then he says all right, I can turn +around, and, when I did, I see the book case has fell over on the +floor. He claims if I had been nervous, I would have jumped eighty +feet when it crashed down and as they is nothin' the matter with me, I +might as well be on my way. Well, I was up against it--but only for a +minute. That last crack of his gimme an idea. I makes a leap across +the floor, grabs my heart and starts to shake and shiver like a bum in +one of them "Curse of Drink" productions. + +"What's the matter?" he calls out. + +I looks wildly around the room, and I seen a fly upside down on the +window-sill tryin' to get to its feet. + +"Oh!" I says. "I'm so nervous, doc, I'm shakin' like a crap-shooter. +D'ye see that fly? Well, it must have fell off the window just +then--it gimme an awful shock--y'know that sudden noise and--" + +He throws up his hands. + +"Come!" he tells me. "I'll assign you to a room." + +That's how I come to get mixed up with the Red Cross. + +Pretty soon they had the Kid's arm better than it ever was, but as they +was still workin' on his nerves, we stuck around at the sanitarium. +We're both on a diet, which meant that at each meal-time we was fed +about enough food to nourish a healthy infant about a half hour old. +The general idea of the stuff was along nursery lines, too--milk, eggs +and baby fodder, three times a day. I was O.K. when I went in there, +but in a couple of weeks I was the prize patient on account of them +meals. They tell me I raved one night and bellered for a rattle, and +Scanlan made the nurse tell him all about Jack the Giant Killer and Old +Mother Hubbard. The place must have been run by a guy who believed in +lettin' the dumb animals live, because you couldn't have got a piece of +meat in there, if you begged 'em for it till you was black in the face. +You could have milk and eggs or eggs and milk--that was the limit! + +One mornin' the orderly forgets himself and asks me what I want for +breakfast. I thought they had let down the bars at last, and I all but +jumped out of the bed. + +"Gimme a steak, French fried potatoes, coffee and hot rolls," I says. +"Have the potatoes well done and the steak rare." + +"Rave on," he answers me. "Do you want the eggs boiled, fried or +scrambled? Ain't there no particular way you like 'em?" + +"Not no more!" I groans, and falls back on the sheets. + +The only bright spot in the whole thing was Miss Woods, the nurse that +caused me to enter the place. She used to come in every mornin' and +make me play a thermometer was a lollypop and I held the thing in my +mouth while she took my temperature and pulled a clock on my pulse. +Then the orderly would come in and take the fruit friends had left for +me, and I'd be all set for the day. When I kicked about the food, Miss +Woods claimed I ought to be tickled to get eggs to eat, because they +was very expensive on account of the late war. I says I didn't know +they had been fightin' with eggs in Europe, and she laughs and says I'm +delicious. She brought me in a book to read and on the cover it's all +about the nights of Columbus. I didn't even open the thing, because +what kind of nights could Columbus have had--they was nothin' doin' in +them days. She asks me what my occupation was and says maybe she could +arrange so's I could work at it while I was there to keep my mind off +things. I says I _dared_ anything to keep my mind off of her, and she +kinda frowns; so's to brighten things up I says before I come there I +had been a deck steward on a submarine, and it gets a laugh. Then she +says I looked like a bookkeeper, and I didn't know whether that was a +boost or a knock, so I passed it off by sayin' I had a chance to be +that when young, but had to give it up because I couldn't stand the +smell of ink. + +After we have kidded like that for a while, I admits bein' Kid +Scanlan's manager, and with that she suddenly runs to the door and +closes it tight. She comes back on tip-toes, leans over the bed +lookin' at me for a minute and then she asks me very soft would I do +somethin' for her. I had got as far as offerin' to dive off the Singer +Buildin' into a bucket of water, when she cuts me off and tells me to +listen to her as they wasn't much time. + +She asked me had I ever noticed a big, husky, black-haired guy out in +the exercise yard. I said I had. I remembered a big whale of a man, +with the face of a frightened kid, walkin' up and down, up and down, +all day long. Every now and then he'd stop and pick up a pebble or a +handful of dirt and take it to one side where he'd examine it for half +an hour. Then he'd throw it away and start that sentry thing again. + +Well, she said, this bird had been down to South America where he had +discovered some kind of a mineral that had made him very rich and some +kind of a fever that had made him very sick. He was at the sanitarium +so's the doctors could keep a eye on him, the bettin' bein' about seven +to five that he would go nutty, if some excavatin' wasn't done +immediately on his dome. A operation will save him, but his parents +won't think of it, and there you are. When she stopped, I told her +that whilst I never had performed no operations before, beyond once +when I pulled a loose tooth of Scanlan's between the second and third +round of a fight, I would get somebody to sneak me in some tools and +get to work on the big guy the first chance I got. She give a little +squeal and says that wasn't what she wanted me to do, gettin' pale and +prettier every minute. I seen I pulled a bone, so I asks her to come +right out with it and whatever she said I'd do it or break a leg. + +"Then when Mr. Scanlan takes his exercise every day with the boxing +gloves and punching bag," she says, "get him to persuade Arthur to join +him. Arthur would do it for him quicker than he would for me or any of +the doctors. He thinks we are all in league against him and he admires +Mr. Scanlan--I've read it in his face as he watches him out in the +yard. Arthur himself was a noted athlete before he went to South +America. He might even box with Mr. Scanlan. That would lessen the +tension on his mind and we might get him to see that an operation +is--Oh! Will you do it?" she breaks off suddenly, grabbin' my hand. + +"Will I?" I says, holdin' on to that hand. "If Scanlan don't box him, +I'll take him on myself!" + +"Oh, thank you--thank you!" she whispers, "I--" + +"That's all right!" I cuts her off. "Is--ah--is the big fellow any +relation to you?" + +She blushed. Yeh--and I looked at her, forgettin' a lot of things +about both of us that didn't quite match--and wished! I got everything +I had together for one good try, bein' handicapped by the fact that I +still had her hand and that room was goin' around like a top. And +then, poor boob--I looked down at the hand I didn't have, wonderin' why +she didn't answer me--and saw the answer on one finger. The darned +cold, glitterin' thing seemed to sneer at me. I felt like I'd stopped +one with my chin, and somethin' went outa me that ain't back yet. +What? Well, a guy can hope, can't he? + +Say! That ring must have cost five hundred bucks--it was a pip! + +I grabbed a drink of that darned milk to steady myself, and I seen from +the way she looked at me that she got me. + +"I see!" I says, lettin' go of the hand that belonged to friend Arthur. +"He--and he went to South America, eh?" + +"Listen!" she whispers, bendin' over. "You know now what this means to +me. If you'll help me, I'll do anything for you! Why--" + +I sat up in bed and grabbed her hand again. + +"Anything?" I asks her. + +She looks out the window, gets pale and grits her teeth. You could see +she wished she hadn't said it, but she was game and was standin' pat. + +"Anything!" she says. + +"Then for the love of heaven!" I shoots out, "get me a piece of meat! +This egg and milk thing is drivin' me nutty!" + +She wheeled around so quick the scared look was still on her face, and +for a minute we both just looked. Then she give a kinda nervous little +laugh, grabbed both my hands, squeezed 'em like a man--and blew! + +Oh, boy! I ain't no hard loser but-- + +Well, it wasn't no trick at all to get big Arthur to box with the Kid. +He took to it like a chorus girl does to a telephone and what puzzled +me was why none of them fifty dollar doctors hadn't thought of it +before. I guess it was because they was nobody there husky enough to +handle him by themselves, because Arthur packed a wallop in each hand +that meant curtains, if it landed. Behind that was six-foot-two of +bone and about two hundred and forty pounds of muscle. + +The Kid labored with him like a mother with a baby. He taught him how +to duck, feint, jab, uppercut, swing, stall, rough in the clinches, +everything he knew, and Arthur learned awful quick. So quick that we +had to cut the bouts down to twenty minutes each, because the big guy +didn't _know_ and he was _tryin'_ with every punch! + +The doctors told Scanlan to talk operation to him, and the Kid tried it +once. Arthur stopped boxin' and looked at him so reproachful that +Scanlan refused to mention it again. He said he looked just like a kid +that come down Christmas mornin' and found no tree. + +Finally, me and the Kid packed up and kissed the sanitarium good-by, +but every afternoon at three we went over and Scanlan put on the gloves +with Arthur for a while, because I had give my word to his girl. +Arthur got so he lived all the rest of the day and night lookin' +forward to three o'clock in the afternoon. He snarled at the doctors, +cuffed the orderlies, didn't know Miss Woods from the iron gate that +kept him in there, but the minute Scanlan breezed into the yard with +the gloves his face would be one big smile. + +This went on for three months--and then Miss Vincent stepped into the +thing. + +She wanted to know where the Kid was goin' every afternoon at three +o'clock, and like a simp, I told her the whole story. She thanks me +with a odd look that I didn't get till that night, when the Kid comes +tearin' in to our room at the hotel and slams the door. When he gets +where he can make his tongue do like he asks it, he says it's all off +between him and Miss Vincent. By usin' some judgment and four hours of +time I find out that Miss Vincent thinks this stuff about the Kid +boxin' Arthur is a lot of bunk and the Kid was really goin' back to the +sanitarium every day to see Miss Woods. She has give that nurse the +once over and then used some woman's arithmetic which makes two and two +equal nine, get me? Well, one word led to another, and finally she +tells him if he don't cut the sanitarium out, she's off him for life. + +That's a bad way to handle Scanlan. He's Irish and--you know! + +He told her we give our word and he was gonna box Arthur till they +remodeled Arthur's skull, no matter what happened. Then Miss Vincent +gets sensible and weeps. In a minute the Kid is on his knees, and she +shows more sense than usual by chasin' him at that point. At the +bottom of the stairs, Scanlan calls up and asks if he can kiss her good +night. She tells him it's too late now, he has missed the +psychological moment. + +That last was what had the Kid up in the air. He didn't know what it +meant, except that it was a cinch she wasn't wishin' him good luck. +That psychological thing was past me, too. I looked it up in the +dictionary, and it was there all right, but it could have been in +Russia as far as I was concerned, because the way it described it was +over my head. The Kid finally puts it right up to Miss Vincent, and +she tells him to find out for himself. + +"Go over to that trick sanitarium of yours, and ask Miss Woods," she +tells him scornfully. "Maybe _she_ can tell you what it means!" + +But at two o'clock, when the Kid is leavin' for his daily maulin' bee +with big Arthur, she comes along in her racin' car and asks him to go +to Los Angeles with her. The Kid stalls and says he's just about got +time to get over and give the South American entry a workout, although +he'd rather take the ride with her than defend his title against a +one-armed blind man. She frowns for a minute, and then she smiles and +says hop in with her and she'll drive him over to the sanitarium. + +When they blowed in that night at seven o'clock, I seen the Kid looks +kinda worried, while he's washin' the Golden West off his face and +neck, so I ask him how Arthur is comin' along. Scanlan coughs a couple +of times and then he says he don't know, because he wasn't able to get +over there that afternoon--the first he'd missed since I promised the +world's champion girl I'd assist her. While I'm still bawlin' him out, +he claims it wasn't his fault, because the car broke down in the middle +of California and they had to get towed back. + +I _will_ say I was sorry to find out that Miss Vincent wasn't above a +little rough stuff! Oh, you ladies! + +The next day Genaro suddenly decides to take a scene in the Kid's +movie, and as we was under contract we had to stay. The third +afternoon, Miss Vincent gets a terrible headache and the Kid has to sit +on the hotel porch with her, readin' out loud her press notices from +the movie magazines. + +I kept out of it, but thinkin' about Arthur and that little nurse over +there had me bitin' nails, and the next day I told the Kid if he didn't +go out and trade wallops with Arthur, I was through as his pilot. I +said that right out loud in front of Miss Vincent, lookin' her right in +them famous baby-blue eyes of hers. But you can't figure women--she +crossed me and tells the Kid to go and she'd go with him! + +We went out in her racin' car, with me ridin' on the runnin' board and +thinkin' what a fine thing accident insurance was for a guy of moderate +means. By dumb luck we missed crashin' into the scenery along the road +and stopped outside the iron gates of the sanitarium. We had hardly +got in the office, when from down the hall we heard what sounded like a +race riot, and a couple of orderlies goes past us so fast that I didn't +believe it could be done, although I seen 'em. The Kid runs down to +where the noise was comin' from and I tagged along in the rear, +stoppin' with him outside a big two-doored room, where from the sounds +that crashed out from inside they was puttin' on a dress rehearsal of a +race riot. + +While we stood there lookin' at each other, a familiar deep snarlin' +voice roars out over the others--they was a scream, too, that made me +neck and neck with the Kid as we busted in the locked doors and went +sprawlin' inside. + +Oh, boy! + +A half dozen nurses and two or three doctors is lined up against the +wall on the far side, crouchin' back of an operatic table and tryin' to +force their bodies through the hard cement. The place looks like a +cyclone had hit it, with the walls scraped and scarred and the floor +covered with plaster and what not like the show-room of a junk shop. +Half on the floor and half on a chair is Miss Woods. I hoped she had +only fainted. + +In the middle of the room and backin' against the doors is a big, +growlin', red-eyed killer that used to be Arthur. + +Most of his clothes is torn off where some of them poor little human +bein's had tried to hold him, and over his head he's swingin' a iron +pole he'd torn from the fancy front gate outside. Each time he swings, +he comes nearer that bunch with nothin' between them and Heaven but a +white enameled table. He didn't seem to notice Scanlan, who slid +almost to his feet, and rightin' himself like a cat, stepped back to +size the thing up. Then with a growl, Arthur chops at the operatin' +table with the pole and crumbles it like a berry box. The women +screamed--I think one of 'em fainted. The doctors spread in front of +them, as Arthur raised the pole to finish the job. + +And then Scanlan, poppin' up from somewheres, jumps in front of Arthur, +his face the color of that busted table, but his body as steady as the +Rockies, as he plants himself there before the big guy, swingin' his +head back easily before that tremblin' iron pole. The Kid throws his +hands up in a fightin' position and dances from one foot to the other +lookin' for a openin', like a guy with a pail of water tryin' to put +out hell! Arthur hesitates, starin' wildly at the Kid, and then his +face begins to change till it's almost human. He looks like he's +tryin' to think. + +"Come on!" bawls Scanlan--loud, to keep the crack out of his voice. +"Come on!" He dances around Arthur and makes a pass at him. "I got +some new ones to show you to-day!" he yells. "Hurry up, or +we--won't--have--time--to--mix it!" + +I remember the head doc told me afterwards it was because the big +feller had been doin' that every day--boxin' with the Kid--for so long +that it-- + +But what's that matter now? Arthur dropped that iron pole, put up his +hands, grins like a baby and rocks the Kid with a straight left, while +them nurses and doctors tumbled out of the room thankin' their +different gods. Somebody carried out Miss Woods, too. + +I guess Scanlan never battled before like he did in the next ten +minutes, because he was fightin' for the biggest purse he ever climbed +in a ring for--his life! The big guy smashed him all over the place +tryin' for a knockout like the Kid had taught him, crushin' his ribs in +the clinches till Scanlan's breathin' cut me to the heart and rainin' +wallops on him like a machine gun. Me? Oh, I didn't do much but root +for the Kid. Y'see I was beside that operatic table when Arthur lammed +it with the pole--some of it kinda glanced off and I stopped it with my +head. A game little bantam of a doctor hopped around 'em, as they +slewed over the floor, lookin' like a referee--but he was simply tryin' +to slip friend Arthur a hypodermic while Scanlan kept him busy. + +Finally, the Kid staggers Arthur with a lucky right smash to the chin, +and then a half a dozen left and rights to the body cut his size down +to where the Kid could put all he had left in one swing--and it's all +over. The little doc with the hypo gets busy, and, when we left the +room, Arthur was headed for the operatin' pen--his trip havin' been +interrupted by the slight excitement Scanlan had stopped! + +Well, me and the Kid was hustled upstairs to be fussed over, windin' +up, you might say, where we started, in the hospital. After a time +Miss Woods comes up and thanks us--at least she made a stab at it and +weeps. The operation had been a success, and when Arthur could walk he +was gonna reward Miss Woods for her lovin' care by marryin' her, and +she looked like she thought that was enough--ain't women a scream? + +We was talkin' to the doctor, when Miss Vincent come in--stands in the +doorway for a minute lookin' like a swell picture in a punk frame, and +comes to the Kid with a yours-for-keeps look in her eyes. Scanlan +throws up his head like he's just thought of somethin'. + +"Say!" he pipes through the bandages. "I know what that psychological +moment thing is now--the doc has just been tellin' me. It seems," he +says with a grin. "It seems I pulled one off here this afternoon!" + + + + +THE END + + + + +CHARLES ALDEN SELTZER'S WESTERN NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list. + + +THE WAY OF THE BUFFALO + +Jim Cameron builds a railroad adjacent to Ballantine's property, even +though Ballantine threatens to kill him the day he runs it. + +BRASS COMMANDMENTS + +Stephen Lannon writes six commandments over six loaded cartridges set +out where the evil men who threaten him and the girl he loves, may see +them. + +WEST! + +When Josephine Hamilton went West to visit Betty, she met "Satan" +Lattimer, ruthless, handsome, fascinating, who taught her some things. + +SQUARE DEAL SANDERSON + +Square Deal Sanderson rode onto the Double A just as an innocent man +was about to be hanged and Mary Bransford was in danger of losing her +property. + +"BEAU" RAND + +Bristling with quick, decisive action, and absorbing in its love theme, +"Beau" Rand, mirrors the West of the hold-up days in remarkable fashion. + +THE BOSS OF THE LAZY Y + +Calumet Marston, daredevil, returns to his father's ranch to find it is +being run by a young woman who remains in charge until he accepts +sundry conditions. + +"DRAG" HARLAN + +Harlan establishes himself as the protector of Barbara Morgan and deals +out punishment to the girl's enemies through the lightning flash of +drawn guns. + +THE TRAIL HORDE + +How Kane Lawler fought the powerful interests that were trying to crush +him and Ruth Hamlin, the woman he loved, makes intensely interesting +reading. + +THE RANCHMAN + +The story of a two-fisted product of the west, pitted against a +rascally spoilsman, who sought to get control of Marion Harlan and her +ranch. + +"FIREBRAND" TREVISON + +The encroachment of the railroad brought Rosalind Benham--and also +results in a clash between Corrigan and "Firebrand" that ends when the +better man wins. + +THE RANGE BOSS + +Ruth Harkness comes West to the ranch her uncle left her. Rex +Randerson, her range boss, rescues her from a mired buckboard, and is +in love with her from that moment on. + +THE VENGEANCE OF JEFFERSON GAWNE + +A story of the Southwest that tells how the law came to a cow-town, +dominated by a cattle thief. There is a wonderful girl too, who wins +the love of Jefferson Gawne. + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK + + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Kid Scanlan, by H. C. 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