Mrs. Postal. No, sir; we don't change prices. Used to, but we don't.
Mr. Ball. Same price?
Mrs. Postal. Uh-huh.
Mr. Ball. Now, did you see anybody go in the theatre—well, did you see any activity on the street?
Mrs. Postal. Now, yes, sir; just about the time we opened, my employer had stayed and took the tickets because we change pictures on Thursday and want to do anything, he—and about this time I heard the sirens—police was racing back and forth.
Mr. Ball. On Jefferson?
Mrs. Postal. On Jefferson Boulevard, and then we made the remark, "Something is about to bust," or "pop," or something to that effect, so, it was just about—some sirens were going west, and my employer got in his car. He was parked in front, to go up to see where they were going. He, perhaps I said, he passed Oswald. At that time I didn't know it was Oswald. Had to bypass him, because as he went through this way, Oswald went through this way and ducked into the theatre there.
Mr. Ball. Let me see. Had you ever seen this man before then at that particular theatre?
Mrs. Postal. Not that I know of, huh-uh.
Mr. Ball. A police car had gone by just before this?