Can you beat it? You can not! Two falls from one pride! Believe you me I took some walk that afternoon, and if I had wore a speedomiter I bet it would have registered a lot over five miles. And while I was walking I kept getting madder and madder and more and more worked up over what boneheads people was and how was a person to economize nowadays and how on earth would I sell all them stamps by Saturday night with a matinée in between and keep my promise to President Wilson? It begun to look like I was going to have to become one of them sidewalk pests. I got a real good picture of myself going up to the proud or pesky passer-by, and getting turned down so often that my spirit was bent thinking of it.
But—believe you me—I made up my mind that if I had to hold up anybody to make them invest in the World's Soundest Securities or W.S.S. I would hold them up good and plenty and no disguise about it. I thought again about my revolver, the one which I had used it in the movies when I done "The Dancer's Downfall" for them and kept it for a souvenir. I was that wrought up over the situation that by the time I got home I had pretty near decided I'd take that fire-arm to the theatre and lock the doors and come down front center and shoot out one of the lights to show I meant it and then take the money right off the audience. The theatre being my native element it seemed only natural to pull the trick there, only being a lady the gun really did look a little rough only not more so than the public deserved.
V
Well, anyways, I was certainly up against it with all them blanks still on my hands and no way in sight of getting rid of them. And just to make things nice and pleasant, what do I see when I come on the stage that night but Ruby Roselle and her pet lounge-lizzard which were sitting in a box. She certainly seems to go in for reptiles for pets. And no sooner did I get off after my eighth curtain call, than around she comes to my dressing room and hands me a check for her stamps and for the ones she had undertaken to sell and already had.
"I suppose yours is all sold too!" says Ruby. "You are so efficient, dearie!"
"Oh, mine are all right!" I snapped. "Or will be by this time to-morrow."
"Why, ain't they gone?" she cooed. And did I wish for my gun? I did! "Ain't you give any of them cards out yet?" she says.
"No!" I says. "But I will—I'll commence with you, dear Miss Roselle," I says. "And here you are"—and I filled out the receipt cards which I had a few in my vanity case for emergencies, and give them to her. When she took them I noticed she had a awful funny look in her eye, but at the time it meant nothing to me. Alas! Would I had heeded it more—but no—solid ivory! Solid ivory! I passed it up completely. And Ruby grabbed the cards, collected her new pet animal, and went away.
Well, my state of mind that night was distinctly poor, even after the nice little well-ballanced war-ration of hot chocolate and corn bread with brown sugar which Ma had for me and delicious as anything you ever ate if she did get the recipe out of a newspaper and they so unreliable nowadays. But no letter from Jim, and so after I had asked Ma if she thought it was right to wear black, I went to bed and fell into a exhausted sleep which lasted well on toward the box-office man's afternoon on, because Ma always lets me sleep late when I have to dance twice.
Well, anyways, I was so rushed getting to the theatre for the matinée that I hadn't no time to try any of that sidewalk stuff, only I did get a cheque from each of the other committee members and told Ma to send them receipt cards. And did I feel cheap? I did! A flivver, that was what I had made. But so long as Jim was surely dead by now, I didn't care for myself. Only my promise to Mr. Wilson made a lump in my throat while doing my three hand-springs and the "Valse Superb," which shows how bad I felt. And what do you know, when I took my encore, there was Ruby Roselle again, down in front and all alone.