"Seventy-fi—— We-e-e-ow! Stop it! Somebody is shooting things at me!"
Marks had been spotted on the end of his long nose, to which he was wildly clinging with both hands, as he pranced around the stage.
"What's the matter?" growled Legree, in a guarded
tone, unable to understand what had happened. "Have you gone crazy, you fool? Stand up and bid!"
Then he cried: "Six hundred!"
"Seventy-five—— Hornets and blisters!" finished Marks, as he was nailed by three or four peas. "I can't stand this! It's too much!"
He bolted off the stage.
Legree looked dismayed, and then he advanced to the footlights and addressed the audience.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I trust you will excuse the gentleman who is playing the part of Marks. He has not been well for several days, and he is somewhat troubled with hallucinations. Of course we know his troubles are all imaginary, and—— Ye-e-e-ow! I'm shot!"
A pea had struck him squarely between the eyes, and he started back so suddenly that he sat down on the stage as if he had been knocked off his feet.