main dinin'-room before such a feed as most of
'em hadn't ever dreamed about. There was everything, from chilled
olives to hot squab, with a pint of fizz at every plate.

Right after breakfast Pinckney began warmin' the telephone wires,
callin' up everyone he knew within fifteen miles. And he sure did a
good job. While he was at that I strolls out to the tent to have a
little chin with Leonidas, and I discovers him up to the neck in
trouble. He was backed up against the centre pole, and in front of him
was the whole actorette push, all jawin' at once, and raisin' seven
different kinds of ructions.

"Excuse me for buttin' in," says I; "but I thought maybe this might be
a happy family."

"It ought to be, but it ain't," says Leonidas. "Just listen to 'em."

And say, what kind of bats do you think had got into their belfries?
Seems they'd heard about the two-dollar-a-head crowd that was comin' to
the matinee. That, and bein' waited on by a butler at dinner the night
before, had gone to the vacant spot where their brains ought to be.
They were tellin' Leonidas that if they were goin' to play to Broadway
prices they were goin' to give Broadway acts.

Mlle. Peroxide allowed that she would cut out the rag time and put in a
few choice selections from grand opera. Montana Kate hears that, and
sheds the buckskin leggins. No rifle shootin' for her; not much! She
had Ophelia's lines down pat, and she meant to give 'em or die in the
attempt. The black-face banjoist says he can impersonate Sir Henry
Irving to the life; and the juggler guy wants to show 'em how he can
eat up the Toreador song.

"These folks want somethin' high-toned," says Mlle. Peroxide, "and this
is the chance of a lifetime for me to fill the bill. I'd been doin'
grand opera long ago if it hadn't been for the trust."

"They told me at the dramatic school in Dubuque that I ought to stick
to Shakespeare," says Montana Kate, "and here's where I get my hooks
in."

"You talk to 'em, Shorty," says Leonidas; "I'm hoarse."

"Not me," says I. "I did think you was a real gent, but I've changed
my mind, Mr. Dodge. Anyone who'll tie the can to high-class talent the
way you're tryin' to do is nothin' less'n a fiend in human form."

"There, now!" says the blondine.

Leonidas chucks the sponge. "You win," says he, "I'll let you all take
a stab at anything you please, even if it comes to recitin' 'Ostler
Joe'; but I'll be blanked if I shut down on selling