"Waggons!" says I. "You ain't travellin' with a retinue, are you?"
"That's the exact word for it," says he. And then Leonidas tells me about the Sagawa aggregation. Ever see one of these medicine shows? Well, that's what Leonidas had. He was sole proprietor and managing boss of the outfit.
"We carry eleven people, including drivers and canvas men," says he, "and we give a performance that the Proctor houses would charge seventy-five a head for. It's all for a dime, too—quarter for reserved—and our gentlemanly ushers offer the Sagawa for sale only between turns."
"You talk like a three-sheet poster," says I. "Where you headed for now?"
"We're making a hundred-mile jump up into the mill towns," says he, "and before we've worked up as far as Providence I expect we'll have to carry the receipts in kegs."
That was Leonidas, all over; seein' rainbows when other folks would be predictin' a Johnstown flood. Just about then, though, the bottom began to drop out of another cloud, so I lugged him over to the big bubble and put him inside.
"Sadie," says I, "I want you to know an old side pardner of mine. His name's Leonidas Dodge, or used to be, and there's nothing yellow about him but his hair."
And say, Sadie hadn't more'n heard about the Sagawa outfit than she begins to smile all over her face; so I guesses right off that she's got tangled up with some fool idea.
"It would be such a change from the duchess if we could get Mr. Dodge to stop over at Breeze Acres to-night and give his show," says Sadie.
"Madam," says Leonidas, "your wishes are my commands."