a chance for a
few remarks with Hank.

"Is she like that all the time now?" I whispers.

"You bet!" says he. "Don't she do it good?"

Say, there wa'n't any mistakin' how the act hit Hank. "You ought to
see her with her op'ra rig on, though--tiara, and all that," says he.

"Go reg'lar?" says I.

"Tuesdays and Fridays," says he. "We leases the box for them nights."

That gets me curious to know how they puts in their time, so I has him
give me an outline. It was something like this: Coffee and rolls at
ten-thirty A. M.; hair dressers, manicures, and massage artists till
twelve-thirty; drivin' in the brougham till two; an hour off for lunch;
more drivin' and shoppin' till five; nap till six; then the maids and
valets and so on to fix 'em up for dinner; theatre or op'ra till
eleven; supper at some swell cafe; and the pillows about two A. M.

Then the curtain goes up for the second act, and I see Hank had got his
eyes glued on the stage. As we'd come late, I hadn't got the hang of
the piece before, but now I notices it's one of them gunless Wild West
plays that's hit Broadway so hard. It was a breezy kind of a scene
they showed up. To one side was an almost truly log cabin, with a tin
wash basin hung on a nail just outside the front door and some real
firewood stacked up under the window. Off up the middle was mountains
piled up, one on top of the other, clear up into the flies.

The thing didn't strike me at first, until I hears Hank dig up a sigh
that sounds as if it started from his shoes. Then I tumbles. This
stage settin' was almost a dead ringer for his old ranch out north of
Bedelia. In a minute in comes a bunch of stage cowboys. They was a
lot cleaner lookin' than any I ever saw around Merrity's, and some of
'em was wearin' misfit whiskers; but barrin' a few little points like
that they fitted into the picture well enough. Next we hears a whoop,
and in bounces the leadin' lady, rigged out in beaded leggin's, knee
length skirt, leather coat, and Shy Ann hat, with her red hair flyin'
loose.

Say, I'm a good deal of a come-on when it comes to the ranch business,
but I've seen enough to know that if any woman had showed up at
Merrity's place in that costume the cow punchers would have blushed
into their hats and took for the timber line. I looks at Hank,
expectin' to see him wearin' a grin; but he wa'n't. He's 'most tarin'
his eyes out, lookin' at them painted mountains and that four-piece log