"I see. That's the racket, eh? Where did you propose to give it?"
"In that new hall of yours, of course."
"My new hall, eh?" replied McGowan, in surprise, and laughing. "Why, Wes, the gol-darned thing ain't built yet, but the men are at work on it. If it was ready I'd like nothin' better than inauguratin' the place with a show, for between ourselves I'm a bit stuck on theatre-acting myself. I'm sorry. The carpenters started in over a week ago and this is Tuesday."
"And is there no other place?"
"Let me see. No, I don't think so. Kaufman's barn was burned down last week, so you couldn't storm that now. Siegel's wouldn't be just the place, and, besides, they have other cattle there now, so that's out of the question. You might get a loan of the church—no, the church is not a church. We only call it so for respectability's sake. It is used for almost any old thing on week days, and on Sunday a dominie from an adjoining parish tackles sermons once in a while. But then, I hardly think it would suit. But hold on a minute—when did you expect to come here?"
"Well, we thought of getting here Saturday night."
"Saturday night!" exclaimed McGowan, in surprise. "Why didn't you say so at first?"
"What's the matter now?"
"Saturday night! Why, I thought you meant to descend on us to-morrow night. 'Nuff sed. Say no more. The academy will be ready for you."
"The what?"