Jimmy didn’t say a word until they reached the sidewalk. Then he turned to his friend.
“Say, Tom,” he remarked, “you don’t mind waiting a minute while I pin on the little old Croy de Gerre thing, do you? What do you think about the way I worked the bunk on Sarah Ann Slosson? Ain’t she just the cutest thing?”
Tom Wilson looked at him rather cynically.
“How are you going to go through with it?” he asked quietly.
“How am I going to go through with it?” echoed Jimmy. “Why I’m going to do just what I said I was going to do. I’m going to call up the beautiful star and get her to bake that pie or have someone else bake it and I’m going to call up Jordan, the company manager and have him tend to the shipping. I’ll get her to write a little note in her own handwriting about the joys of kitchen life that they can use for a big splash.”
“You will, eh,” retorted Wilson. “You talk as if you’d never met this Stephano person.”
“I haven’t,” admitted Jimmy. “I joined the show by wire. This is my first town. They sent all the dope on by mail and I’m going to duck back here next week for the big pow-wow. What are you getting at?”
“Oh, nothing much,” replied the other, “only you hadn’t better call her up or Jordan either. You say you were hired by wire. Well, you’d be fired the same way.”
“I don’t get your comedy, Tom,” cut in Jimmy a bit uneasily.
His friend put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and spoke to him earnestly.