"Yes?" exclaimed Charles-Norton, flushing with pleasure and doubt.
"I have a permanent show in New York now," went on Bison Billiam.
"Yes?" said Charles-Norton.
"I want you to fly there," said Bison Billiam.
"Yes?" said Charles-Norton.
"I'll give you four hundred a week."
Charles-Norton fell backward into his bunk, his legs swaying perpendicularly in the air like two derricks gone amuck. From the depths of his involuntary position he heard the silvery pealing of Dolly's laughter. When he rose again though, Dolly had ceased laughing, and Bison Billiam's face had a gravity which somehow vaguely impressed Charles-Norton as without solidity, like fresh varnish. The two looked as though they had been gazing at each other, but their eyes now were carefully averted.
"I didn't understand," said Charles-Norton, with dignity, and surreptitiously took a firm hold of the edge of the bunk.
"The matter is simply this," said Bison Billiam. "I have a permanent Wild West show in New York. I want a new feature for it. You are it. I'll give you three hundred a——"