“Just keep your eyes closed,” said Rusty soothingly. “You’ll be all right in a second. I’ve got an aunt who’s just that way. Every time she goes to the movies——”
“Hang your aunt!” exploded Dick. “I tell you to let go of me!”
The usher flashed a suspicious beam from his pocket-torch on the convulsed features and muttered doubtfully: “Looks to me like he was havin’ a fit!”
“Usher! Usher, there’s nothing the matter with him!” exclaimed an indignant voice from the row behind. “Those boys have been acting up ever since they came in, and you ought to make them behave. It’s no pleasure for others to have to be annoyed like this and——”
“Oh, madam!” exclaimed Blash, turning an injured countenance. “How can you say so? I assure you——”
“You tell your friend to come out of it,” said the usher doggedly. “Either that or you all get out! That goes, see?”
“Oh, thanks so much,” said Stanley gratefully. “He’s quite all right now. You’re all right, aren’t you, Dick? Yes, he says he’s feeling ever so much better. Maybe——”
“O you Bates!” cried a voice from across the darkened house. “O you famous athlete!” Laughs and chuckles followed. The usher gazed about him bewilderedly. From the balcony came a further interruption. “What did you pay for it, Dick?” inquired an earnest voice. Laughter unrestrained arose from many quarters. A shrill falsetto joined in. “Regular cheers for Bates, fellows! One, two, three!” Someone accepted the challenge and, interspersed with laughter, a ragged Parkinson cheer broke forth: “Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Rah, rah, rah! Bates! Bates! BATES!” And, “Hero!” added a solitary voice upstairs. Dick slumped into his seat, all fight gone from him.
Three ushers, reinforced by a stout gentleman from the front, hurried along the aisles and begged or commanded silence, and gradually the laughter subsided to chuckles and the chuckles died away. Blash whispered contritely in Dick’s ear: “Sorry if I’ve made you mad, Dick. It was just a joke, you know. Thought you’d take it like a good sport.”