Comes a lot of racket, and I thought the audience was goin’ to assault the stage, but it was merely female against female. Judgment Jones comes back and kinda tearfully explains that Susie Hightower Potts and Eveline Annabel Wimple has had a battle, and Susie swears that Eveline and Hank ain’t goin’ to do no love scenes, except over her dead body.
Hank said he’d talk with her, but he came back pretty soon, nursin’ a black eye. The audience is plumb impatient, and the committee comes back to see what’s keepin’ us.
“We’ll give yuh five minutes more,” says Dog-Rib, “and if yuh ain’t actin’, we declares this here show null and void. We come here to see actin’, and we’ll see it to our fullest capacity or take our money back.”
Then they single-files out again. Judgment Jones flops his arms and his face registers ashes-to-ashes, even unto the last ash. Hank rubs his black eye and ponders deeplike. Pretty soon he says, “There’s jist one thing to do and that is to jump this show to where them snake-hunters will see plenty action. We’ll put on the last act and them three scenes—the kidnappin’, the death of Little Eva and the finish of the race.”
“But they won’t know what the show is all about, unless we act it all.”
“Let ’em guess at it—that’s what I’ve been doin’. C’mon.”
I’ve decided that I’ve had about enough and starts to walk across the stage to where I can get out, but all to once I starts walkin’ faster and faster, but don’t get nowhere. The floor is goin’ out behind me, and all to once I lands on my chin and rolled over against the wall.
I fans a few stars out of my eyes and looked at Peewee, who humps down beside me.
“I was wonderin’ if that thing worked,” says he, “and I see it does.”