Bat crushed the fire from the end of his third cigarette against the side of a pewter bowl upon the table. Then leaning toward the investigator, his hands upon his knees, he said:
"I want to let you in on something I think you ought to know. This whole matter has come to a point where it's best for me to declare my intentions. Before very long I can see myself taking a stand; and when I do, I don't want you to be surprised."
Ashton-Kirk looked at him, inquiringly, but said nothing.
"And to explain just what is behind this possible stand," proceeded Scanlon, "I'll have to tell you something I've never told a soul before." There was a direct bluntness in the voice and the manner of the big athlete which men who are naturally diffident assume when they approach certain subjects.
"About eight years ago," went on Bat, "I went broke on a wrestling tournament in 'Frisco; and right away I had to look around for something to run the wolf off the property. In Oakland there was a theatrical manager who had nerve enough to do Shakespeare, and he was rehearsing 'As You Like It.' A friend of mine tipped me off that there was a week's work for me if I went after it; and go after it I did. Acting was new to me, and it had my nerve a little; but the director told me not to bother, for I could leave that all to the regular company; my work was to rehearse the leading man in a little wrestling bout, and then go through it with him in the show."
Ashton-Kirk laughed.
"And so," said he, "you are another of the many who have sweated their way through the rôle of 'Charles, the Wrestler.'"
"That was me," replied Bat. "But I didn't sweat much. The leading man was a kind of a drawing-room actor, and I had to keep at low pressure all the time so as not to wear him out. But what I did as an actor ain't got much to do with what I want to tell you. The big thing is that the Rosalind of that production was Nora Cavanaugh; and it was the first time I ever saw her."
"Ah!" said Ashton-Kirk. "You knew her as far back as that, did you? That's interesting."
"She was the finest thing I ever looked at," said Bat Scanlon. "And not only that, but she rang with the right sound. I was never what you would call a woman's man, and so I never got to knowing much about them. But in the week I was in that Oakland theatre I took a new course, and, though she never knew it, Nora was the teacher."