Bunch was there ahead of me and so were Skinski and Ma'moiselle
Dodo, all working like beavers.
"I'm going to take the 11:40 to town," Skinski informed us after
all was in readiness for the performance. "I have a very important
date, haven't I, Dodey?"
"You betcher sweet!" she puffingly replied.
"But I'll be back before six o'clock and I'll give 'em the show of
my life," Skinski continued. "How's the sale?"
"There's a three hundred dollar advance sale," Bunch replied; "and
Pietro in the box office says we're good for a five or six hundred
dollar window sale if it's a fine night. You can gamble we've let
'em know we're in town, all right!"
"Right!" chirped Skinski. "You're the best bunch of managers I
ever roomed with and nothing's too good for you. I'm for the 11:40
thing now, so you better rent a stall in the local hotel and rest
up till show time. How about you, Dodey? Are you for hunting a
thirst-killing palace and getting busy with a dipper of suds?"
"You betcher sweet!" the large lady replied, and with that she
grabbed Skinski's arm and they left us flat.
Bunch and I loafed around till about an hour before show time, when
we put a young chap we had sworn to secrecy on the door, and then
we went back on the stage and began to chatter nervously.
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