I did not much relish the business; but I hated to see him beaten, so I ventured, ‘I have run a Punch and Judy in an amateur way at the ‘Varsity.’
He sprang to his feet with a yell.
‘You have! you mean to say it? We’ve got them! We’ve beaten them!’ He had an extraordinary way of taking your help for granted. ‘The miner chaps, mostly English and Welsh, went mad over the poor old showman, and made him so wealthy that in sheer gratitude he drank himself to death.’
He walked up and down in high excitement and in such evident delight that I felt pledged to my best effort.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘first the poster. We must beat them in that.’
He brought me large sheets of brown paper, and after two hours’ hard work I had half a dozen pictorial showbills done in gorgeous colours and striking designs. They were good, if I do say it myself.
The turkey, the magic lantern, the Punch and Judy show were all there, the last with a crowd before it in gaping delight. A few explanatory words were thrown in, emphasising the highly artistic nature of the Punch and Judy entertainment.
Craig was delighted, and proceeded to perfect his plans. He had some half a dozen young men, four young ladies, and eight or ten matrons, upon whom he could depend for help. These he organised into a vigilance committee charged with the duty of preventing miners and lumbermen from getting away to Slavin’s. ‘The critical moments will be immediately before and after dinner, and then again after the show is over,’ he explained. ‘The first two crises must be left to the care of Punch and Judy, and as for the last, I am not yet sure what shall be done’; but I saw he had something in his head, for he added, ‘I shall see Mrs. Mavor.’
‘Who is Mrs. Mavor?’ I asked. But he made no reply. He was a born fighter, and he put the fighting spirit into us all. We were bound to win.
The sports were to begin at two o’clock. By lunch-time everything was in readiness. After lunch I was having a quiet smoke in Craig’s shack when in he rushed, saying—