Miss Montague seemed to struggle with some unidentified emotion. After a long, puzzling gaze she suddenly said: “Merton Gill, you come right here with all that make-up on and give mother a good big kiss!”
Astonishingly to himself, he did so in the full light of day and under the eyes of one of the New York villains who had been pretending that he walked a tight-rope across the yard. After he had kissed the girl, she seized him by both arms and shook him. “I’d ought to have been using my own face in that scene,” she said. Then she patted his shoulder and told him that he was a good boy.
The pretending tight-rope walker had paused to applaud. “Your act’s flopping, Bo,” said Miss Montague. “Work fast.” Then she again addressed the good boy: “Wait till you’ve watched that scene before you thank me,” she said shortly.
“But it’s a strong scene,” he insisted.
“Yes,” she agreed. “It’s strong.”
He told her of the other instance of Baird’s kindness of heart.
“You know I was a little afraid of playing scenes with the cross-eyed man, but Mr. Baird said he was trying so hard to do serious work, so I wouldn’t have him discharged. But shouldn’t you think he’d save up and have his eyes straightened? Does he get a very small salary?”
The girl seemed again to be harassed by conflicting emotions, but mastered them to say, “I don’t know exactly what it is, but I guess he draws down about twelve fifty a week.”
“Only twelve dollars and fifty cents a week!”
“Twelve hundred and fifty,” said the girl firmly.