. So get this. I'm not going
to stick down in this basement eating house forever. I've got too much
talent. If I only had a voice--I mean a singing voice. But I haven't.
But then, neither has Georgie Cohan, and I can't see that it's wrecked
his life any. Look at Elsie Janis! But she sings. And they like it! Now
listen. I've got a song. It's my own. That bit you played for me up at
Gottschalk's is part of the chorus. But it's the words that'll go big.
They're great. It's an aviation song, see? Airship stuff. They're
yelling that it's the airyoplanes that're going to win this war. Well,
I'll help 'em. This song is going to put the aviator where he belongs.
It's going to be the big song of the war. It's going to make 'Tipperary'
sound like a Moody and Sankey hymn. It's the--"

Ruby lifted her heavy-lidded eyes and sent him a meaning look. "Get
down to business, Leon. I'll tell her how good you are while you're
making up."

He shot her a malignant glance, but took her advice. "Now what I've been
looking for for years is somebody who has got the music knack to give me
the accompaniment just a quarter of a jump ahead of my voice, see? I can
follow like a lamb, but I've got to have that feeler first. It's more
than a knack. It's a gift. And you've got it. I know it when I see it. I
want to get away from this cabaret thing. There's nothing in it for a
man of my talent. I'm gunning for vaudeville. But they won't book me
without a tryout. And when they hear my voice they--Well, if me and you
work together we can fool 'em. The song's great. And my makeup's one of
these av-iation costumes to go with the song, see? Pants tight in the
knee and baggy on the hips. And a coat with one of those full skirt
whaddyoucall'ems--"

"Peplums," put in Ruby, placidly.

"Sure. And the girls'll be wild about it. And the words!" he began to
sing, gratingly off-key:

"Put on your sky clothes,
Put on your fly clothes
And take a trip with me.
We'll sail so high
Up in the sky
We'll drop a bomb from Mercury."

"Why, that's awfully cute!" exclaimed Terry. Until now her opinion of
Mr. Sammett's talents had not been on a level with his.

"Yeh, but wait till you hear the second verse. That's only part of the
chorus. You see, he's supposed to be talking to a French girl. He says:

I'll parlez-vous in Francais plain,
You'll answer, '_Cher Americain_,
We'll both. . . . . . . . . . ."

The six o'clock l