The harassed performer began again, “You guys⸺”
“Never mind about that now,” said the officer. “I was sent here to see your permit and to bring you down to the office if you didn’t have it. You know all about it; you were at the Elks’ Fair three years ago. You better come along and get your permit, Charlie. You’ll have to take care of a fine, too.”
“You don’t mean now?” the diving wonder asked. “Ain’t you going to leave me do my trick? I go on in about five minutes. You fellers sure got the knife in us. If I belonged in this here town⸺”
“Come on, McDennison,” said the officer in a way of quiet finality. “You know the game as well as I do. We’re not interested in your trick, only your permit. Come on, get your duds on. I guess you’ve been through all this before. Come on, speed up.”
Diving Denniver cast his cigarette from him, bestowing a look of unutterable contempt on the officer. In that sneering scorn he seemed to include the whole of Farrelton and all constituted authorities the world over. And Hervey joined him in his contempt and loathing. Diving Denniver had been through all that before. He knew the permit towns and the non-permit towns and the towns where a “tip” would save him the expense of a permit. Hervey had not dreamed that this enchanted creature ever had to do anything but dive, he did not know that the wonder of two continents had hit Farrelton penniless.
I will not recount the language used by Diving Denniver as he pulled on a shabby suit of clothes and threw a funny little derby hat on the back of his head. How prosaic and odd he looked! But his language was not prosaic; it was quite as spectacular as his famous exploit—his trick, as he called it. Poor McDennison, it was all he had to sell—his trick. And sometimes he had so much trouble about it.
A funny little figure he made trotting excitedly along with the officer, his derby hat on the back of his head bespeaking haste and anger. He smoked a cigarette and talked volubly and swore as he hurried away, leaving Hervey staring aghast.
Such a troublesome and distracting thing it is to be a wonder of two continents.
CHAPTER XXIX
THE WHITE LIGHT
Well at all events, Hervey might now inspect freely the sanctum of the diving wonder. His enthusiasm for the hero was not dimmed. Even the derby hat had not entirely covered up Diving Denniver. Here was just another exhibition authority. That a cop should make so free with Diving Denniver, even calling him Charlie!