eard the sound of my own voice all alone in it. But
after a minute I got used to it, and so interested in trying to convince
the folks, that I didn't care.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," I says. "This is going to be a plain, good
old-fashioned hold-up! If you listen hard, maybe you'll hear the screams
of the women and children, and the groans of the wounded pocket-books!
Far be it from me to do anything so unrefined as to actually use a gun
on you," I says, "but I'm going to do the next thing to it. I'm going to
sell eleven thousand dollars worth of W.S.S. right here and now, and you
are going to buy them. I know all of you has probably been buying them
all day and is sick of them, but I have personally promised President
Wilson to do as much by to-night without fail and you must help me make
good. And no matter how many you have bought," I says, "unless you have
a thousand dollars worth you can spend another ten or so apiece. Now, as
I say, I know this is a hold-up, because it is meant to be. And any
public which can sit here in a theatre and feel anoyed at having to buy
a few stamps when a million of our boys is over in far-away, sort of
unreal France, giving their lives, had ought to have a machine gun
turned on them from this stage instead of a line of talk! Probably this
is the first time in the history of finances that it has been necessary
to jolly a crowd into making a good investment. If I was selling stock
in a fake gold mine," I says, "you would probably be climbing on the
stage to get it! Now will everybody willing to take ten dollars worth
kindly stand up?"

There was a few laughs, and a few people got up here and there, sort of
shamefaced.

"Come on!" I says. "Come on--are you all cripples? You over there--only
ten dollars--save it on next months grocery bill--all right--save it on
your auto bill!"

A few more got up then, but not nearly enough and I caught sight of
Goldringer in the wings by then and not having warned him what I was
going to do, I could tell by his expression that I mustn't hold the
stage too long or a militaristic system would right away be born in our
theatre. So I got desperate.

"No more!" I called. "Oh, come on get up! Will I send for crutches, or
are you only shy? Remember, I got that money promised! Only ten dollars
each!"

But no more stirred. For a minute I thought my flivver was complete, and
then I got a idea. I went over and beckoned to George, the orchestra
leader, and shak