Dupewell.—Silence. (Exit L.)
Tommy (looking after Dupewell).—That’s a queer fellow. I think I’ll skeet. Oh! there goes his hat. (Lets the balloons go, falls on his knees and groans.)
(Enter Oliver Openface—R.)
Openface (trying to assist Tommy to arise).—My poor fellow, what ails you? Do tell me, are you sick?
(Re-enter Dupewell—R.)
(Tommy groans and looks upward.)
Dupewell (to Openface).—Sad! sad! Know the man well; worthy case—sick wife—eleven children, oldest four years—wounded in late war—lost his balloons; look! (Points upward.)
Openface.—Ah, I see. (Pulls out handkerchief and wipes eyes.) What shall we do?
Dupewell.—Make donation—encourage honesty. (Hands fifty cents to Tommy, who takes it and groans.)
Openface (examining his wallet).—I have nothing less than a fifty-dollar bill. (Holds note in his hand.)