The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 219: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE, PINK PRUNE PAYS. performed her hand-shaking rite with Socrates gravely, and he actually seemed to grin as she called him by his new name. The strong man came in as they were standing there. He stopped an instant, his cruel lips twisting in rage and his pig eyes closed till they were coal-black slits. -Charlie’s muscles stiffened. The monkey, on his back, cowered down under his arm, but screamed furious monkey-talk. Only for an instant did the enemy stop, muttered something in his own language, and strode on. Molly’s' small hand clutched at Charlie’s arm. “ You. will be care- ful!’ she breathed warningly, and her eyes were very close to his. “ You won’t seek a quarrel?” “Yes,” he said, and he found him- self speaking very earnestly. “ Yes.” She thrust out her hand, manlike, then hurried away to her dressing- room. He waited to pick up the wicker basket and the newly christened Pink Prune and followed. ' Just mounting the spiral iron stair< way was the strong man. Apparently he did not see Charlie, but his prog- ress up the staircase that was too nar~ row to allow any passing was snail- like, and every step he took was an insult to the man behind him. But Charlie Jayson remembered his promise; he shut his teeth and kept the words he wanted to say behind them. oe At the top of the stairs the strong man shot him one nasty glance, then hummed an air from an opera as he took out a cigarette, swinging his room key on a red tag, while he lighted it and hurried to the end of the gallery where his room was. " The monkey, who had been shaking’ the basket violently with the anger that the nearness of his enemy aroused, subsided. Then Charlie stopped for a minute to look at dress- ing-room door No. 3. That was Molly’s room, as a glance at the key-board in the stage entrance 689 had told him that afternoon. For a moment he gazed at it dreamily, then the first sounds of the overture down- stairs told him the necessity of hurry. He handed the dressing-room key to the monkey, who climbed down his arm to insert it and turn the lock. That was always the animal’s first duty as valet, just as his last was to lock it. Charlie pulled the door open, and he shook his head in mild wonder at the ideas of theater architects. “Door’s heavy and thick enough for a jail!” he muttered, just as he had muttered that same thing for three days—when he wasn’t thinking of something else. Then he closed the thick wooden door that seemed so incongruous, con- sidering the flimsy structure of the old theater, and obeyed the mandate of the squeaky orchestra far below. The speed with which Charlie worked to get into his stage togs would have qualified him for a quick-change artist, and he had his reward in a brief conversation with Molly before she went on. Once more her songs brought the chokiness to his throat and the blur to his eyes, and again he bewailed the low-browness of the five, ten, and fif- teen audience as compared with the wonderful Molly. | And Molly, from her former van- tage-point in the wings, gave her soft applause of encouragement. But while Charlie posed with his troupe as the “rag” fell, she hurried to her dress- ing-room. Jayson performed another record- breaking change. It had been his habit to loaf in his dressing-room be- tween the two afternoon performances, -and save two changes of costume. But to-day the dingy six-by-eight seemed unbearable —and there might be a chance to walk with Molly. But for all his hustle, when he was in his street clothes and had given the protesting monkey to the scene-shifter and reached the stage entrance, he found Molly’s key on its hook. COMicdoo S CO@