“None whatsoever, sir, to you,” stated Captain Teal. “The difference to me is that I took part in that great conflict.” But his irony was lost and spent itself on the soft California air. By clamping his hat, which he had worn throughout the interview, more firmly down upon his head, Mr. Herzog, still all tolerant affability, now indicated that he was about to take his departure.
“One moment, if you please,” added Captain Teal. “There is another matter which I desire may be brought to the attention of my worthy friend, Mr. Gillespie.” He spoke as one conferring favors rather than as one who just had been made the recipient of a favor. “Stopping here in this same establishment is a most gifted young Southern lady—a Miss Blossom Lamar Clayton. She has had experience of the dramatic profession; I would say she has undoubted gifts. But as yet she has been unable, through lack of suitable opportunity, to demonstrate her abilities in the local field. Personally, I am most deeply interested in her future—”
“Why, Foxy Grandpa, you old son of a gun!” exclaimed the edified Mr. Herzog. With a jovial thumb he harpooned the Captain in the ribs. “What do you mean, you old rascal, hooking up with a skirt at your age?”
“Sir,” said Captain Teal, in an awful, withering voice, “it pleases you to be offensive. The young lady in question not only is my protégée, in a way of speaking, but I have the very great honor to be distantly related to her family. Do I make myself sufficiently plain to your understanding? And kindly remember also that my name to you, sir, and all your ilk is Teal, Captain Rodney Teal, sir.”
But Mr. Herzog declined to wither.
“No offense,” he said. “Just let me see if I get the big idea? I suppose you want Gillespie to give the gal the once-over and see whether he can use her?”
“In other words than those you use, that, sir, was the concern I had in mind,” said Captain Teal.
“Well, then, why not bring her along with you in the morning?” suggested Mr. Herzog, with a placating gesture, he being now vaguely contrite over having in some utterly inexplicable way given offense to this touchy old party, and somehow impressed by the other’s tremendous show of outraged dignity. “I suppose there’s no harm in that. If Gillespie likes her looks he might give her a show at some little thing or other; you never can tell. And he’s a great hand for making his own finds. And if he don’t fall for her you pass her along to me for a screen test, and if she comes clean there I might work her in among the extras and let her pick up a little money that way to carry her along. Get me?”
Which generous avowal so mollified the old Captain that, in token of his forgiveness and his gratitude, he bestowed upon Mr. Herzog a most ceremonious handshake at parting.
As it turned out, here was one beginner who needed no rehearsals. Noting how aptly the aged novice seemed to slip into the personality of the part as soon as he had put on the costume, with its saffron vest, its curl-brimmed, bell-crowned high hat, its blue coat that was swallow-tailed and tall in the collar, “and large gilt buttons size of a dollar”—see the poem for further details—Gillespie decided that a rehearsal might be a mistake. It might make this eleventh hour addition to the cast self-conscious, which of course was what Gillespie above all things desired to avoid. He didn’t want Captain Teal to try to act. As he repeatedly emphasized, he just wanted him to be himself.