“Of course, of course,” said Jimmy. “You don’t understand. What I mean is—what’s the next move? You said somethin’ a little while ago about the double harness stuff—about marryin’ this old gal, I mean. When are we goin’ to pull the finale?”
“Whenever we wish, Mr. Martin. I have, as I say, but to bend my small finger. It will make a nice publication for you in the journals, will it not?”
“You said somethin’ that time, old Frank J. Bombay,” returned Jimmy who was now in the grip of one of his moods of exultant exuberance. “This one’ll land in places where press agents fear to tread. They’d stop the presses for it, if necessary, and miss the mails. They’d leave out ads for it. And when it’s all over you’ve got to do me a favor. You’ve got to keep on with your tour and take Mrs. Princess Rajput Singh along with you as a bally-hoo. Why, say, we’ll land so much stuff in every town that the agent of every other outfit’ll just naturally pack up and move on to the next stand without even leavin’ a forwardin’ address.”
Jimmy’s swarthy friend nodded in response to this enthusiastic outburst. Then he narrowed his eyes and the mean, sordid soul of him peered through them as he spoke.
“This Mrs. Princess, as you call her, that is to be,” he inquired cautiously, “has really much money in her own name? I have asked many questions from others and I find general opinion that she has. Do you know?”
“Just a few millions, that’s all,” responded Jimmy nonchalantly. “Just about five or six or somethin’ like that. Father left it to her. You’re in softer than you realize, you old Hindu son-of-a-gun, you, and you’ve got to go along on this honeymoon trip I’m plannin’. You owe a whole lot to yours truly, Mister Man. If it wasn’t for me you’d be makin’ six changes of costume a night for twenty-five bones a week. Don’t forget to remember that.”
“Of course I am very much thankful to you, my fine, good friend, most thankful and most very much in favor of your honeymoon plan.”
Jimmy arrogated to himself the task of arranging the details of the projected marriage. He fixed upon an elopement to a nearby suburb as being the best method of giving the affair a news slant that would add to the story what are technically known in newspaper circles as “feature values.” It would also, he figured, prevent the possibility of any last minute interference by some trouble-making relative.
It was agreed that he was to meet the prospective bride on the morrow in the guise of a close friend of Prince Rajput Singh and was to go over with both parties a detailed plan of campaign which he was to map out in the interim. The prince was to bend his small finger and announce that impetuous and headlong haste was absolutely essential to his peace of soul and was to insist upon the ceremony being performed within twenty-four hours.
When Wilkins, the assistant manager, met Jimmy in the lobby a few minutes after the latter had left the royal suite, he couldn’t help noticing the wild exultant light that shone in the press agent’s eyes.