He dug into his pocket, and produced a tattered, dog-eared pamphlet, folded open at one of the early pages. He read aloud, slowly: “‘Whosoever shall fail in the strict observance o’ the Lord’s Day by any unseemly act, speech, or carriage, or whosoever shall engage in any manner o’ diversion or profane occupation for profit––’”
Anna, holding tight to Henry’s hand, knew that argument was futile, but she was a woman, and she had a husband to defend. Her heart was leaden, but her voice was stout with indignation.
“But Mr. Policeman! Do you know who I 133 am? I’m Judge Barklay’s daughter. I know all about that ordinance. Nobody’s ever––”
He held up his hand in warning. “That’s all right, young lady. If you’re his daughter, you oughter keep on the right side o’ the law. It won’t do you no good to bicker about it neither––you go in there an’ tell your audience to get their money back, an’ go on home.”
Henry picked up his cigarette. He had no craving to smoke, but he didn’t want Anna to see that his lips were trembling. “Well,” he said, “there goes the old ball-game. And we’ve sold every seat in the house, and thrown away three hundred dollar’s worth of souvenirs, and the sidewalk’s full of people waiting for the second show.... Knockout Mix beats Battling Devereux in the first round.” He did his best to smile, but the results were poor. “And when we held off three days just so we could start on Sunday with a grand smash!”
“Get a move on, young feller. If the show begins, you’re pinched, see? You go in there and do what I told you.”
From within there was a sudden rattle of applause. Anna gripped her husband’s arm. 134 “It’s ... it’s begun already,” she said, breathlessly.
The policeman stepped forward. “You heard me tell you to stop it, didn’t you? What are you tryin’ to do––play horse with me? Now you go in there an’ stop it, and then you come along with me an’ explain it to the Judge. See? Now, get a wiggle on.”