You Can Search Me Part 11

At 8:20 Ma'moiselle Dodo waltzed out of her dressing room made up to look like a cream puff.

"Where's Skinski?" I shrieked. "It's nearly 8:30 and he's keeping that mob waiting. Isn't he going to show up!"

"You betcher sweet!" she gurgled, and pa.s.sed on.

At 8:25 I rushed into Skinski's dressing room, put on a swift makeup, dove into Skinski's fright wig, hid my face behind a false moustache and goatee, and prepared to sell my life dearly.

"What are you going to do?" asked Bunch in wild alarm.

"I'm going out and pull a few mouldy tricks till Skinski gets here," I answered heroically.

Then I gave the warning to the leader and rang up the curtain.

I was greeted by a harsh round of applause as I stepped out and I could feel both knees get up and leave my legs.

I pulled myself together, picked up a pack of cards and began to do things with the deck that no mortal man ever saw before, while Bunch stood in the wings with his teeth chattering so loud they sounded like a pedestal clog accompaniment.

Then I picked up an egg where Skinski had placed it on the tabaret and started in to do something mysterious with it.

Just as I raised the egg to show it to the audience I got a flash of the stage box on my right, and there, gazing curiously at me, sat Peaches and Alice Grey and Aunt Martha.

I was so surprised I dropped the egg, and it lay at my feet in the form of an omelet, while the house roared with joy.

[Ill.u.s.tration: I was so surprised I dropped the egg.]

At this moment Skinski bounded on the stage, bowed right and left, and in five words he made it appear that I was only a comedy curtain raiser.

Say! I never was so glad to see anybody in all my life.

I backed off the stage, and he pulled something on my exit that got an awful laugh.

I didn't care. I was so delighted that Skinski was there that I nearly hugged Dodo.

And he gave them their money's worth, all right. He flashed a line of hot illusions that had them groggy in short order.

When the curtain finally fell Skinski was given an ovation, and when it was all over we backed into his dressing-room and sat looking at each other.

"That's the last," our star said, after a pause; "and it was a hot finish all right."

"What do you mean?" I gasped.

"The syndicate has bought my gold mine in the Blue Hills," he answered calmly.

"And you're going to throw us after making a start like this?"

Bunch almost sobbed.

"Throw nothing!" Skinski came back. "Didn't I tell you once before that I am for you two guys all the old while--didn't I, Dodey?"

"You betcher sweet!" she answered solemnly.

"Well, that still goes," Skinski went on. "I've sold out a half interest in my Blue Hill gold mine, and I've got the corn to show for it."

So saying, he dug up a wad that a hound couldn't leap over.

"Now, I'm going to pay you each $6,000 to cancel my contract,"

Skinski added, after our eyes had feasted on his roll.

I looked at Bunch, and Bunch was stepping on his left foot to see if he was awake.

"No, by Hick! I'll make it seven thousand each," Skinski chortled.

"You two guys put up your last dollar on me, and you didn't know whether I was an ace or a polish. I like you both, for you brought me good luck. Tear up the contract and take $7,000 apiece, is it a go?"

"Just as you say, Skinski," I answered nervously. "Of course, if you want the tour to continue, why----"

"Yes, of course," Bunch chimed in; "if you want the tour to continue, why----"

"Oh! pinkies!" said Skinski; "what do I want to go hugging one-night stands for when I have a hundred thousand b.o.o.boos in the kick. It's the Parisian boulevards for us, and a canter on the Boy Bologna, eh, Dodey?"

"You betcher sweet!" she gurgled thirstily.

And so it came about that we destroyed the contract, pocketed our seven thousand each, and bade Skinski and Dodo an affecting farewell.

Bunch and I couldn't talk for hours afterwards.

We were afraid we'd wake ourselves up.

When I reached home Clara J. started in to tell me what a delightful time she had had at the New Roch.e.l.le theatre, and how clever the magician was, and what a funny clown came out first and smashed a real egg on the stage, but I begged off and went to bed.

I never slept so soundly in all my life.

Next day I handed the five thousand dollars to Uncle Peter, and he complimented me so highly on my ability to save money that I nearly swallowed my palate.

"I'm going to invest this carefully for you, John," he informed me.

"When we return from Europe you'll be surprised."

I don't know what powers of persuasion Bunch brought to bear on Alice and Uncle William, but I do know that there was a hurried wedding ceremony, and that a certain blus.h.i.+ng bride and bashful groom and a delighted old Uncle who answered roll call when you yelled Bill Grey took pa.s.sage that next Wednesday with us on the Oceanic.

I was promenading the deck with Peaches and Uncle Peter after we had been out two days when the old gentleman said, "John, aren't you curious to know how I invested your money?"

"Not particularly," I answered with a laugh,

"John knows it is perfectly safe in your hands," Peaches beamed.

"Well, I'll tell you," said Uncle Peter. "Bill Grey and myself celebrated the finish of our long quarrel by going into a little business deal together."

"Fine!" I said approvingly.

"We buried the hatchet," Uncle Peter went on, "by investing together in a gold mine."