The laugh that followed was interrupted by the approach of a raucous, shrieking noise that rose and fell in lugubrious cadence. “What the deuce!” exclaimed Whitehall, starting up.
“That's Bill,” explained Stone. “Bill Sullivan. He thinks he's singin'. Funny you never heard him before, Kid, but then he's not often taken that way, thank the Lord.”
“Come in, Bill,” he called, “an' tell us what's the matter. Feel sick? Where's the pain?” he asked as big Bill appeared in the doorway.
“Come in, hombre, an' rest yo'self,” invited Whitney, and hospitably handed over his tobacco-pouch. “What was that tune yo'all were singin' out yonder?”
“Thanks,” responded Bill, settling down. “That there tune was 'I Wonder Where You Are To-night, My Love.'”
“Sounded like 'Sister's Teeth Are Plugged with Zinc,'” commented Whitney.
“Or 'Lookin' Through the Knot Hole in Papa's Wooden Leg,'” said Whitehall.
“Or 'He Won't Buy the Ashman a Manicure Set,'” added Stone.
“No,” reiterated Bill solemnly. “It was like I told yer; 'I Wonder Where You Are To-night, My Love,' and it's a corker, too! I seen a feller an' a goil sing it in Kelly's Voddyville Palace out ter Cheyenne onct. Foist he'd sing one voise an' then she'd sing the nex'. He was dressed like a soldier, an' while he sang they was showin' tabloids o' what the goil was a-doin' behind him; an' then when she sang her voise he'd be in the tabloid, an' when it got ter the last voise, an' he was dyin' on a stretcher in a ambulance, everybody in the house was a-cryin' so yer could hardly hear her. It was great! My!” continued Bill, spreading out his great paws over the radiator, “ain't this the snappy evenin'? Real cold. Somehow it 'minds me of the cold we had in China that time of the Boxers, after we'd got ter the Legations; the nights was cold just like this is.”
“Why, Bill,” said Whitney, “I never knew yo'all were there then. Why did yo' never tell us befo'? What were yo' with?”