“The Cherry Creek crowd?” Peggy repeated in bewilderment. “Oh, I remember.” Vaguely she recalled the little settlement scattered along the banks of Cherry Creek and taking its name from that unassuming stream. In the opinion of Peggy’s neighbors, the young people of Cherry Creek were a distinctly inferior class. Peggy had been inclined to set this down to prejudice. In view of the demonstrations outside, she began to think that possibly she had been mistaken.
“A crowd of ’em drove over,” continued the exasperated Jerry, “and more’s coming. And they say they won’t pay any admission, ’less they can have seats. They say it’s our business to have seats for everybody, the way we’ve been advertising this here show.”
In spirit Peggy groaned. It appeared that the too obliging Weekly Arena had overshot the mark.
“It’s going to spoil everything to have them standing up there at the back of the room,” repeated Jerry. “They’ll get to fooling, and shuffling ’round. They wouldn’t like anything better than to upset the whole show. I’ll bet that’s what they came for.”
“What are we going to do?” Peggy wrinkled her brows in the effort to decide the question.
“Joe says he’s ready to take a hand in throwing out the whole bunch. There’s some of our fellows here, good and husky, who’ll help. But he says if we do that, we ought to do it quick, before the rest of the crowd gets here.”
“Certainly not.” And as Peggy vetoed one suggestion, her groping brain seized on another. “Jerry, how far is Cherry Creek?”
“Eight miles, the nearest houses. Why can’t they stay to home and get up their own shows, ’stead of coming all this way to spoil ourn?”
Peggy’s answer was unexpected. She pushed past Jerry, mounted to the platform, and pulling aside the curtain, stepped out before the uneasy audience. A characteristic of leadership is the ability to dispense with advice in a crisis. At that minute Peggy did not need to ask whether she were right.
The clamorous voices died down at her appearance. There was an instant of astonished silence, and then a roar of laughter. The laugh was something on which Peggy had not counted, and for a moment, she was completely bewildered. Peggy was on too good terms with her fellow beings to be afraid of them in bulk, but she had forgotten that her grotesque appearance would naturally create amusement, and the roar of laughter took her unawares. For the first and only time in her life, she knew the meaning of stage-fright.