CHAPTER III
PLEASURE ISLAND
Speakin' of boobs, as people will, did you ever figure what wouldhappen if the production of 'em would suddenly cease? Heh? Wherewould this or any other country be, if all the voters was wise guys andthe suckers was all dead?
In the first place, there wouldn't have been no ex-Land of the Rave andHome of the Spree, if Queen Isabella hadn't been boob enough to fallfor Columbus's stuff, about would she stake him and his gang of roughand readys to a couple of ferryboats and they'd go out and bring backChicago. Even old Chris himself was looked on as Kid Stupid, becausehe claimed the earth was round. The gang he trailed with had itfigured as bein' square like their heads.
The guy that invented the airship was doped out as a boob until thething begin to fly, the bird that turned out the first steamboat wascalled a potterin' old simp and let him alone and he'd killhimself--and that's the way it goes.
The sucker is the boy that keeps the wise guys alive. He'll tryanything once, and it don't make no difference to him whether it'sthree-card monte or a new kind of submarine. He's the guy that builtall the fancy bridges, the big buildin's, fought and won the wars thatthe wise guys started, and fixed things generally so that to-day youcan push a little trick electric button and get anything from a pieceof pie to a divorce. He's the simp that falls for the new minin'company stock, grins when the wise guys explain to him just how manykinds of a sucker he is, and then clips coupons while _they're_ gettin'up early to read the want ads. He's the baby that's done everythingthat couldn't be did.
That's the boob!
The boob is the guy that takes all the chances and makes it possiblefor old Kid World to keep goin' forward instead of standin' still. Anyburg that's got a couple of sure enough eighteen-carat boobs in it,known to the trade as suckers, has got a chance.
So the next time somebody calls you a big boob, don't get sore--thankhim. He's boostin' you!
Gimme ten boobs in back of me and I'll take a town, because they'lltake a chance. Gimme a hundred wise guys and the town'll take _us_,because them birds will have to stop and figure what's the use ofstartin' somethin'.
Me for the boobs!
Kid Scanlan was a boob. He was a great battler, a regular fellow andall like that, but he was a boob just the same. He started fightin'because he was simp enough to take a chance of havin' his featuresaltered, and he won the title through bein' stupid enough to mix itwith the welterweight champion. I was the wise guy of the party,always playin' it safe and seein' what made it go, before I'd take achance. But the Kid got a whole lot further than I ever will. He madea name for himself in the ring and another in the movies and I ain'tchampion of _nothin'_--I'm just _with_ Scanlan, that's all.
I'm gettin' offers from promoters here and there to have him startagainst some set up for money that was sinful to refuse, but there'snothin' doin'. The Kid has took to bein' an actor like they did togunpowder in Europe, and not only he won't fight, I can't even get himmad!
"I'm off that roughneck stuff!" he tells me. "Nobody ever got nothin'by fightin'. Look what it did to Willard! Besides," he goes on, "whatwould John Drew and them guys think of me, if it should leak out that Ihad give in to box fightin' again? Why they'd be off me for life!Nope, let 'em battle in Russia, I'm through!"
Fine for a champion, eh?
Now here's a guy that went to the top in the one game where you can'tluck your way over. Because he was a fightin' fool, the 'Kid hadright-crossed his way to the title and now that he was up there, thebig stiff wouldn't look at a glove! No! he was a actor now! I'd tellhim that Kid Whosthis had flattened Battlin' McGluke the night beforeand we could get ten thousand to go six rounds with the winner. He'dflick the ash off a gold-tipped cigarette and say,
"Yeh?" Then he'd grab me by the shoulder and pour this in my ear."Did you get me in that Shakespeare picture last week? I hear the guythat writes up shows for the Peoria _Gazette_ claims Mansfield hadnothin' on me!"
A few months before he would have said somethin' like this,
"All right! Wire the club we'll fight him, and if I don't bounce thattramp in two rounds, I'll give my end to them starvin' Armenians!"
Now I didn't kick when the Kid falls for Miss Vincent, because I hadseen Miss Vincent, and the Kid was only human. I didn't say nothin'when he staked himself to that second-hand auto that like to wreckedCalifornia, but when he pulls this actor thing on me and says pugilism,_pugilism_, mind you, ought to be discouraged--I figured it was abouttime for yours in the faith to step in.
The Kid had two ambitions in life, both of which he picked up at FilmCity. One was to be the greatest movie hero that ever flattened avillain, and the other was to ease himself into the Golden West Club.
The Golden West Club was over in Frisco, and as far as the average guywas concerned it could have been in Iceland. It was about as easy toget into that joint as it is to get into Heaven, and it was also theonly other place where you couldn't buy your way in. Your name had tobe Fortescue-Smith or Van Whosthis, and you had to look it. You had tobe partial to tea, wrist watches, dancin', opera, tennis and the like,and to top it all off you had to be a distant relative to a hick calledWilliam the Conqueror, who I hear was light heavy-weight champ in daysof old. If you checked up all right on them little details, they tooka vote on you. If you was lucky, you got a letter in a few weeks latersayin' your application was bein' considered and you might get in, butnot to bank on it, because they was havin' trouble connectin' up yourgrandfather with the rest of the family tree, it bein' said around thathe made his money through work.
That was the place Kid Scanlan wanted to bust into!
One night he gets all dressed up like a horse in one of them soup andfish layouts, and he hires a guy to drive him over to the Golden WestClub in that second-hand A. G. F. he had. I will say the Kid went intothe thing in a big way, payin' seventy-five bucks for a dress suit andten more for the whitest shirt I ever seen in my life. He sends ineight berries for a hack-driver's hat and seven for a pair of tanshoes. Then he climbs into his bus and tells the driver, "Let's go!"Before he pulled out, he told me they was so many guys belonged to thething that he figured he could mix around for a few minutes withoutanybody gettin' wise that he wasn't a regular member, if he could onlybreeze past the jobbie on the door.
And outside of the shoes, which I thought was a trifle noisy, the Kidsized up like any of the real club members I had seen, except his chestwasn't so narrow and he had an intelligent look.
Well, he blowed in about twelve o'clock and come up to the rooms we hadat the hotel in Film City. He stands in the middle of the bedroom,takes off this trick silk hat, and, puttin' everything he had on thethrow, he pitched it into the bathtub. He slammed that open-faced coatin a corner and in a minute it was followed by them full-dress pants.The gleamin' white shirt skidded under the bed, neck and neck with theshoes. I didn't say a word while he was abusin' them clothes, but Iwas so happy I felt like cheerin', because they was somethin' in theKid's face I hadn't seen there since we hit the movies. The last timeI had caught him lookin' like that was when One-Punch Ross had droppedhim with a left hook, just before the Kid won the title. When the Kidgot to his feet that there look was on his face and two seconds laterhe was welterweight champion of the world and points adjacent.
He inserts himself into his pyjamas and then he swings around on me.
"How much did they offer us at the Garden for ten rounds with Battlin'Edwards?" he wants to know.
I liked to fell out of the bed!
"Eight thousand, with a privilege of thirty per cent of the gross," Isays, gettin' off of the hay. "Will I wire 'em?"
"Yep!" he snaps out. "Tell 'em I'll fight Edwards two weeks after Iget through here!"
"And when will that be, might I ask?" I says, ringin' for a messengerand tryin' to keep from dancin' a jig.
"As soon as them simps finish that picture, 'How Kid Scanlan Won theTitle,'" he tells me. "Genaro says he'll start it to-mo
rrow, and assoon as it's through, so am I--here!"
I didn't get the answer to all this until the Kid crawls into the hayhalf a hour later, scowlin' and mutterin' to himself. I took a goodlook at him and then I says,
"Speakin' of clubs and stuff like that, how did you make out at thatGolden West joint to-night?"
He sits right up in the bed.
"Are you tryin' to kid somebody?" he snarls.
"I asked you a civil question, you big stiff!" I comes back, "and don'tbe comin' around here and slippin' _me_ that rough stuff! If you canbe a gentleman at your clubs and joints like that, you want to be onehere! D'ye get that?"
He looks at me for a minute and seein' I'm serious, he growls,
"I thought you had heard about it!" Then he props himself up with thepillows and begins, "I went over there to-night and them boobs washavin' a racket of some kind, I guess, because all the automobiles inthe West was lined up outside the doors of the club. I tried to hornin the line with that boat of mine and the biggest nigger in the world,dressed up like a band leader, comes over and wants to know if I'm aguest. I told him no, that I was a movie actor and to step one side orhe'd break the headlights when I hit him. He claims I can't get in theline without I got a ticket showin' I'm a guest. I got tired of hischatter, so I dropped him with a short left swing and we keep on goin'till we wind up at the front door. This stupid simp I had drivin' mybus is lookin' at the swell dames goin' in, instead of at the emergencybrake, and he forgets to stop the thing till we have took off the rearend of a car in front of us and busted my front mudguard again.
"While the chiffure of the wreck is moanin' to my guy about it, Iducked out the side and blowed around to the entrance. I figured theywas a password of some kind, so I says to the big hick at the gate,'Ephus Doffus Loffus,' and pushes past him, I guess he was surprised atme bein' a stranger and knowin' the ropes at that, because I seen himlookin' after me when I beat it up the first stairway to the secondfloor. I got a flash at myself in a mirror as I breeze past, and, if Ido say it myself, I was there forty ways. I was simply a knockout inthat evenin' dress thing! A swell-lookin' guy pipes me at the top ofthe stairs and, after givin' me the once over, he taps me on the arm.
"'You may bring me a glawss of Appollinaris, my man,' he says, 'and forheaven sake remove those yellow shoes!'
"With that he walks away and another guy comes up and whistles at me.When I turn around, he's givin' me the up and down through a glassthing he's got hung over one eye.
"'Bring up a box of perfectos at once!' he pipes. 'Come! Look alivenow!'
"Then I got it! _I_ thought I was knockin' 'em dead and these guysthought I was a waiter! Well, I thinks, I'll show them boobs somethin'before I take the air--I can pull that stuff _myself_! With that Ibreezes into the next room and there's a hick sittin' at a table,toyin' with a book. He was as near nothin' as anything I ever seen, onthe level! He's got a swell dress suit on, but it didn't fit him nobetter than mine did me and it couldn't have cost no more or he wouldhave killed the tailor. Outside of the shoes, mine bein' classier, wewas both made up the same. A guy comes in, looks him over for a minuteand then he yawns. 'Bored?' he says. The simp that was sittin' downlooks back at him, yawns and says, 'Frightfully.' Then the other guybows at him and goes out. Some other hick wanders in and says, 'Ah,Van Stuyvessant, bored?' and Stupid says, 'Frightfully' and the otherguy blows out. I seen that the coast was clear, so I smoothed my hair,pulled down my vest and throwed my chest out like them other guys did.Then I breezed in and stopped before this guy. He yawns and looks upat me very dignified like he was sittin' in the Night Court and I wasup before him for the third time in a week.
"'Hey, Stupid!' I says. 'Get me a gin fizz and don't make it toosweet! And for heaven's sakes get rid of that shirt!'
"I thought he was goin' to get the apoplexy or somethin', because hisface is as red as a four-alarm fire. Then he says,
"'Why--what--how dare you, you insolent puppy!'
"I leaned on his shoulder and tapped him on the end of the beak with mythumb.
"'Lay off that stuff, Simple,' I tells him. 'I'm a guest here and acouple of hicks took me for a waiter. I'm just gettin' even, that'sall. If you don't get me that gin fizz like I asked you, I'll knockyou for a goal!'
"He gets as white as my shirt and presses a little button on the table.A big husky, made up like a Winter Garden chorus man, runs in andStupid says, 'Eject this ruffian, Simms! And then you will answer tome for allowing him to enter!'
"Simms was game, but a poor worker, so I feinted him over in front ofhis master and then I flattened him with a left and right to the jaw.I took it on the run then and got out the back way!"
The Kid stops and heaves a sigh.
"And then what?" I encourages him.
"And then nothin'!" he says. "That's all! Except I'm off the GoldenWest Club, the movies and this part of the country! I got enough.Them guys over there to-night gimme the tip-off--I don't belong, that'sall! I was a sucker to ever stop fightin' to be a actor, but I gotwise in time. You go ahead and sign me right up with anybody butDempsey, and if Genaro don't start my picture to-morrow, I'll give 'emback their money and you and me will leave the Golden West flat on itsback!"
Say! I was so happy I couldn't sleep. I just turned over on my sideand registered joy all night long!
The next mornin' we go to Genaro the first thing, and the Kid puts itup to him right off the bat. Either he starts "How Kid Scanlan Won theTitle" or he kisses us good-by. Genaro raves and pulls his hair forawhile, but they ain't no more give to the Kid than they is to marbleand finally Genaro says he'll start the picture right away.
We find out that another director is usin' the whole camp to put on atrick called "The Fall of Babylon," so we got to go over to an islandin the well known Pacific Ocean and take what they call exteriorsthere. They rounded up Miss Vincent, De Vronde, the cuckoo that wrotethe thing, and about a hundred other people and load us all on a yachtbelongin' to Potts. We're gonna stay on this trick island till thepicture is finished, and we eat and sleep on the yacht.
On the trip over, we all go down in what Potts claims is the grandsaloon and Van Aylstyne, the hick that wrote the picture, reads it tous. It starts off showin' the Kid workin' in a pickle factory on theEast Side in New York. They're only slippin' him five berries a weekand out of that he's keepin' his widowed mother and seven of herchildren. One day he finds a newspaper and all over the front page isa article tellin' about all the money the welterweight champion ismakin', so the Kid figures the pickle game is no place for a youngfeller with his talent, and decides to become welterweight champ.First he tries himself out by slammin' the guy he's workin' for, aftercatchin' him insultin' the stenographer by askin' her to take a ride inhis runabout, when the buyer is already takin' her out in hislimousine. When the boss comes back to life, he fires the Kid and ourhero goes out and knocks down a few odd brutes here and there forgettin' fresh with innocent chorus girls and the like. Finally, hepractically wrecks a swell gamblin' joint where he has gone to rescuehis girl, which had been lured there by the handsome stranger from thecity.
"Well!" says Potts, when Van Aylstyne gets finished. "How does thatstrike you?"
"What I like," pipes Miss Vincent, with a funny little quirk of her lipand a wink at De Vronde. "What I like is its daring originality!"
Van Aylstyne stiffens up.
"Of course," he says, kinda sore, "if I'm to be criticised by--"
"Ain't they no villains or nothin' like that in it?" butts in the Kid,frownin' at him.
"Joosta one minoote!" says Genaro. "Don't get excite! That's joostafirsta reel!"
He waves his hand at Van Aylstyne, and this guy gives a couple ofglares all around and then turns over another page. It seems at thisstage of the game, a lot of gunmen get together to stop the Kid fromwinnin' the title, so they throw him off a cliff. He gets up, dustsoff his clothes, registers anger and flattens half a dozen of 'em. Alittle bit later
he gets fastened to a railroad track and the fast mailruns over him. This makes him peeved, and he gets up and wallops acouple of tramps that's passing for luck. Then the villain's gang ofrough and readys grabs him again and he is throwed off a ship into theocean. A guy comes along in a motor boat, and, after shootin' a fewtimes at the Kid without actually killin' him, registers surprise andruns over him. When the Kid comes up there ain't nothin' to wallop, sohe swims six miles to the island. The minute he crawls on the beach hefaces the camera and registers exhaustion. Then a lot of guys jump outand stab him. He knocks 'em all cold and then he goes on, fights thechamp and wins the title.
"Is that all there is to it?" asks the Kid, when Van Aylstyne stops forbreath and applause.
"Practically all," Van Aylstyne tells him. "Of course I'll have to goover it and spice it up a little more--get more action in it here andthere, wherever it appears to drag. But we can do this as we go along."
"Yes!" says Potts. "You'll have to do that. I want this picture to bethe thriller of the year!" He scratches his chin for a minute andlooks at Van Aylstyne. "You better ginger it up a bit at that!" hegoes on. "It sounds a little tame to me. See if you can't work in acouple of spectacular fires, a sensational runaway with Mr. Scanlanbeing dragged along the ground, or you might have him do a slide forlife from the topmast of the yacht to one of the trees along the shorehere."
"Wait!" pipes Genaro. "I have joosta the thing! While I listen, Igetta thisa granda idea! Meester Scanlan, he'sa can be throw from theairsheep and--"
"Lay off, lay off!" butts in the 'Kid. "They's enough action in thatthing right now to suit me! Don't put nothin' else in it. I'll bebusier than a one-armed paperhanger as it is!" He turns to VanAylstyne. "Where d'ye get that stuff?" he scowls. "Would _you_ jumpoff a cliff, hey?"
Van Aylstyne throws out his little chest, while the rest of themsnickers.
"I _write_ it!" he says.
"Yeh?" pipes the Kid. "Well, you'll _jump_ it, too, bo, believe me!"
"What's a mat?" hollers Genaro. "What's a use hava the fighta now?Wait till we starta the picture, then everybody she'sa fighta!Something she'sa go wrong. _Sapristi_! we feexa her then. Joostaholda tight your horses!"
He pats the Kid on the shoulder and slips him a cigar.
The rest of the trip to the island took about two hours, durin' whichtime the Kid and Miss Vincent sat on the top deck, and she give him hisdaily lesson in how to speak English, eat soup and a lot more of thathigh society stuff.
We finally got to this island place and by three o'clock the nextafternoon they was half way through with the first reel. I horned inon the thing myself, takin' off a copper, for which they gimme fivebucks even.
That night they was big doings on board the yacht. They had music anddancin' and what not galore. Van Aylstyne, Potts, De Vronde and mostof the other help was there in the soup and fish and the twenty odddames that was actin' in the picture was all dressed up to thrill. Inever seen so much of this here de collect stuff in my life. I heard alot of talk around the studios at the camp about "exposures," and,well, I seen what they meant all right that evenin'. It got me sodizzy, never havin' no closeups like that before, that I ducked for mystateroom about nine o'clock when the joy was just beginnin' to beunconfined and I hadn't been up there five minutes, when the Kid comesup and knocks at my door.
"I'm goin' to hit the hay," he tells me. "If I gotta fight Battlin'Edwards in two months, I'm gonna start readyin' up now! I been puttin'on fat since I been here, and it's got to come off. I'll get up atfive to-morrow and do a gallop around the island, and I just dug up acouple of ex-bartenders among the extry people which will gimme somesparrin' practice every mornin' till they give out!"
"Great!" I says. I was hardly able to believe my ears. It soundedlike the old Kid Scanlan again!
I closed the door, and just as he was turnin' away, I heard the swishof skirts and then I got Miss Vincent's voice. It was low and sweetand kinda soothin' and--well, she was the kind of dame guys kill eachother for! Do you get me?
"Oh!" she kinda breathes. "Why are you up here all alone?"
I heard the Kid's deep breathin'--it was always that way when _she_spoke to him, and I knowed without seein' 'em that his nails wasengravin' fancy work on the palm of his hand.
"Why," he says, tryin' to keep his voice steady. "I'm off this tangothing--and the last time I had one of them dress suits on, I wasmistook for a waiter!"
Y'know there was a funny little catch in the Kid's voice when he pulledthat, although he tried to pass it off by coughin'. That boy sure didwant to mix with the big leaguers, and, bein' Irish, it come hard tohim to miss anything he wanted. Usually he got it!
I heard Miss Vincent sneer.
"Don't flatter these conceit-drugged travesties on the male sex bycaring about anything _they_ say," she tells him. "You have so manythings they never will have! Why, you're a big, clean, two-handed manand--" She breaks off and gives a giggle that I would have took Verdunfor. "But there!" she goes on. "I--I--guess I'm getting tooenthusiastic!"
I could almost feel her blush, and I knowed how she looked when she didthat thing, so I says, "Good-by, Kid!"
"That's all right!" pipes the Kid. "It wasn't these guys here. But Ican't go downstairs anyhow, because I gotta start trainin' for Battlin'Edwards."
"Oh, bother Battling Edwards!" she says. "I thought you promised me togive up prize fighting!"
This was a new one on me, and it cleared up a lot of things I hadn'tbeen able to figure out before!
"I gotta take it back," I hear the Kid sayin' in a kinda dead voice."I pulled a bone play when I did that! I can't give up fightin' nomore than you can give up the movies! The only thing I got is awallop, and that won't get me nowhere in the movies or society, but itgot me the title in the ring. I guess I'll stick to my own game!"
"Oh, come!" she tells him, kinda impatient. "You have the blues!Shake 'em off--I don't like you when you scowl like that. Come on downand have a dance with me. You'll feel better."
"You said somethin'!" answers the Kid. "But I can't--on the level. Igotta train for this guy, or he's liable to bounce me, and, if I losethis quarrel, I'm through! Y'see, this ain't no movie, this is gonnabe the real thing! If this guy flattens me, he'll be the champion andyou _know_ that bird is gonna be in there tryin' till the last bell!"
I peeked through them little wooden cheaters on the window and I seenher kinda stiffen up and register surprise.
"I am not accustomed to coaxing people to dance with me, Mr. Scanlan,"she says, "and--"
"Yes, and I'm not used to havin' dames like _you_ ask me!" butts in theKid. "But I gotta beat Edwards--and I can't beat him by stayin' uplate!"
She just breezes past him and down the deck without another word.
The Kid kicks a fire bucket that was standin' there into the PacificOcean, and from the way he slammed the door of his stateroom I'll betall them trick beer mugs that Potts had on the wall fell on the floor.
Well, the next mornin' we all go over to the island again and the Kidis up at daybreak, trottin' over the hills. He's got four sweaters on,although it's as hot as blazes, and I'm taggin' along in back of him.Then he comes back, changes his clothes and works in the picture tillnoon, when we knock off for the eats. Miss Vincent passed us once whenwe was talkin' to Genaro, and she deliberately passed the Kid up!
After that it was suicide to give Scanlan a nasty look.
Along around two o'clock that afternoon, another yacht shows up alittle ways off the island and in a few minutes it stops and five guysand a woman hops in one of them trick launches and put-puts over to us.They get out and come up the string-piece and we get a good flash atthem. The male members of the party is all dressed up in blue coatsand white pants and from their general get-up I thought they was allgonna form a circle, pick up the ends of their coats and pipe. "Whatho, the merry villagers come and we are the daisy maids!"
All but one. He was a great big
husky, kinda dark skinned and helooked like a assassin with the women, know what I mean? Also, I hadseen this bird somewheres before, but I couldn't check him up right offthe bat. The girl that was with the troupe was a good looker allright, and you could see she was a big-timer. But she was kinda thinand worn out to the naked eye. And when I got a close-up of her, Iseen there was a funny look in her eyes, like she had beendouble-crossed or somethin'. She looked at everything like she wishedit was hers, but there was no chance, d'ye get me?
Well, Potts comes a-runnin' to meet 'em and then he comes up andintroduces 'em all around. He claims they're from Frisco and friendsof his which has come over to see how movin' pictures is made and theymight even go so far as to take off a part in one of 'em, just for thedevilment of it. Miss Vincent looks hard and close at the dark-skinnedguy, like she was tryin' to think where she had seen him before, butGenaro come along just then and I'll bet them newcomers didn't get noencouragement from the way _he_ looked 'em over. De Vronde and VanAylstyne, though, fell for this bunch so hard they liked to broke theirnecks. It seems them two hicks found out they all was members of thisGolden West Club, and they did everything but shine their shoes fromthen on.
When the Kid blows in and sees 'em, he claims he remembers 'em all asbein' among them present the night he went over to the Club, and hesays they had better keep lots of the Golden West between him and themwhile they was in our midst.
The tall dark guy, whose name was somethin' like Brown-Smith, took oneflash at Miss Vincent and then everybody else could have been in Francefor all the notice _he_ give 'em. He took up his stand about two feetaway from her, and there he stuck all day long like cement. Anybodycould see that this stuff was causin' two people to register worry.They was the Kid and the dame that come over with the troupe. Scanlanwatches Brown-Smith makin' his play for Miss Vincent, and he seen thatif she wasn't encouragin' him, she wasn't complainin' to the policeeither, but the Kid keeps quiet and takes it out in makin' themsparrin' ex-bartenders tired of life.
The next day I got up early lookin' for the Kid, and as I come througha clearin' in the island I seen three things at once, and if I hadn'tducked behind a tree, they'd have seen me. There's my meal ticket withall his sweaters off, standin' in the middle of the little space,shadow boxin' in front of a tree. The well known sun is shinin' downon his blonde head, and I never noticed before just what a handsomebrute the Kid was in action. The muscles in his arms are jumpin' andripplin' under a skin that a chorus girl would give five years for, andhe's as graceful and light on his feet as one of them Russian toedancers.
The other two things I seen was Miss Vincent and the dame that hadblowed in with the Golden West boys.
The new dame is watchin' the Kid like he was a most pleasin' sight tothem tired little eyes of hers. Her mouth is open a little bit andthere's a kind of wishin' smile on her lips. Y'know she looked likethis was what she wanted ever since she come into the store. Get me?
Miss Vincent is doin' a piece of watchin' herself around the treethat's between 'em, only she ain't watchin' the Kid. She's watchin'this new dame, and you can take it from me she was registerin' hate!That classy little nose of hers is quiverin' and she's bitin' hard onher lip. Her body was so stiff and straight that, on the level, Ithought she was gonna spring!
The Kid finally stops boxin', puts on his sweaters and then he gets aflash at the new dame. She calls somethin' to him and he comesover--then they start back to the yacht together. Miss Vincent ducksand so did I. I didn't want _none_ of them to see me, because thisthing was gettin' a little too deep for yours in the faith.
They go ahead with another reel of the Kid's picture that morning andBrown-Smith still keeps hangin' around Miss Vincent like a panhandleroutside a circus, and when she has to come in the picture herself, hestands on the sidelines beside one of the camera men, with them chorusmen friends of his draped around him. The Kid is goin' through a scenewhere he flattens half a dozen guys that are tryin' to discourage himfrom fightin' the champ and Brown-Smith is givin' his friends the lowdown on it.
"By Jove!" he sneers, just loud enough so's we can all get an earful."It nauseates me to see that fellow knocking about those poor devilswho have to do that for a living! Fawncy him doing anything like thatin real life! Why, he would most likely call for the police if someone slapped his wrist. I know those moving picture heroes!"
This troupe of Sweet Williams around him snickers right out loud inpublic at that, like the big guy was simply a knockout as a comedian.Miss Vincent frowns and the new dame looks kinda worried and nervous,but the Kid just reddens a bit and continues to swat the supers allover the lot. Brown-Smith pulls a few more raw cracks like that,gettin' louder and nastier all the time, and finally he asks Potts tolet him take part in the big scene at the end of the reel where the Kidis supposed to bounce everybody in the thing but the camera men. Hesays it will be great stuff to tell about at the club the first rainynight and a lot of bunk like that--all the time he's watchin' the Kidwith that nasty sneer on his face.
Potts says all right, and offers to stake him to an old suit ofclothes, but he laughs and says he won't need anything, tossin' hiscoat to one side like the acrobat at the theatre flips away hishandkerchief before goin' to work. He rolls up his sleeves and startslimberin' up his arms in front of Miss Vincent, winkin' at her andnoddin' to the Kid. She looks kinda worried, but her control is goodand she holds fast. She wasn't the only one that looked worried,believe me! I was doin' that thing myself, because this Brown-Smithguy had a good thirty pounds on the Kid, and he was built that way allover, reach, height and everything else. The minute he put up hishands, I seen two things. First, that he knowed somethin' about boxfightin' and, second, that he was goin' to try and bounce the Kid forthe benefit of Miss Vincent.
While they're gettin' things ready for the massacre, the Kid comes overto me and says,
"What's the big idea? I know this bird--he's the guy that asked me tobring him a _glawss_ of Appollinaris that night at the Golden WestClub. If he fusses around me, I'm gonna maul him!"
I knowed _that_ wasn't the reason, because Kid Scanlan could take botha wallop or a joke. The reason was standin' about three feet awaytalkin' to Genaro and she never looked better. Believe me, she hadeverything that mornin'!
"Looka thisa bigga boob, Miss Vincent!" Genaro is sayin', wavin' hisarms around and shakin' his head at Brown-Smith. "He'sa wanna get inmy picture so he showa the girls what a bigga fella he is. MeesterPotts he's a go crazee if thisa picture she's a no good. He's a joompat me, he's a holler at me and he letta thisa bigga bunk get in it!Thisa fight, she'sa gotta looka real--not lika the actor, butta _real_!Thisa fella he'sa go in slappa Meester Scanlan on he'sa wrist. MeesterScanlan he'sa no wanna hurt Meester Potts' fren'--you know?--so he'saslappa heem back! Everybody she'sa laugh at me when they showa thatpicture. Aha! They maka me crazee!"
He runs over to Brown-Smith and grabs his arm.
"Please, Meester!" he begs him, with tears in his eyes. "Please,Meester, getta gooda and rough with thisa fella!" he points to the Kid."Don't be afraid for heem, he's a tougha nut! He's a nevaire getahurt! Don't maka thisa fight looka like the act. You rusha heem,hitta heem, wrestle heem, choka heem, graba heem, bita heem, kickaheem, anything but keela heem, so thisa picture she looka like realafight! Pretty soon, I blowa the whistle. He's a hitta youeasy--so--you falla down. Maka looka good, don't sitta down, falladown--so!--" Genaro stops and throws himself on the grass and thenhops up again. "You watcha that?" he goes on. "Alla right!" He jumpsaway from the cameras and yells, "Hey, Joe! You stanna over there andshoota this froma the right! Alla right, now everybody! Meester KidScanlan, you ready? Gooda! Come now--cameras--ready--shoot!"
The Kid meets the rush of the gang like they had practised it together,and he floors one after the other of them with snappy left hooks. Ofcourse he was pullin' his punches and barely touchin' these hicks, butit looked awful good from front. Then Brown-Smith, who had beenha
ngin' around on the outside, rushes in. For a guy who had nevertried the thing before, he struck me as bein' real swift at pickin' upthe rules, because he faced the cameras at the right angles and pulleda lot of fancy stuff that usually nobody but a sure enough movie actorknows. The Kid sidesteps him and puts a light left to his chin andBrown-Smith comes back with a right swing that would have floored theKid, if it hadn't been too high. The Kid went back on his heels and alittle trickle of claret comes from his lips. Genaro jumps in the air,clappin' his hands. "Magnificenta!" he yells. Miss Vincent isbreathin' hard and her hands pressed up tight against her chest. Herface was the color of skimmed milk. Genaro pipes her and grabs acamera man. "Shoota that--queek!" he hollers, pointin' to her. Thenew dame runs over to me and grabs my arm.
"Stop it!" she whispers, excited like. "You must! Albert will killhim! He was amateur heavyweight champion once and--oh!--he wants tobeat Mr. Scanlan--he--oh!--"
I heard Miss Vincent give a little yelp, and I shove this dame awayand, believe me, bo, _I_ come near goin' dead on my feet! _Becausethere's my champ on the ground, layin' flat on his face and he lookedas cold as the North Pole_! I started to dash in, but Genaro grabs meand throws me aside. "Stoppa, fool!" he yells. "Thisa picture she'samaka me famous!"
The rest of the mob is too scared to do anything--they knowed that thiswas the real thing! The Kid gets up on one knee, and, on the level,the only sound you could hear was his choked breathin' and the steadyclick of the cameras--yes, and I guess the beatin' of my heart! TheKid is shakin' his head to clear it from that wallop and I yelled tohim to stay down and take his time. He gets half way up and slidesdown again flat and Brown-Smith laughs. Then Miss Vincent suddenlyturns, and there's a bucket of ice cold lemonade standin' on a benchbeside her. It had been put there for the extry people. This hereeighteen-carat, regular fellow dame grabs that bucket and throws thelemonade all over the Kid's head and shoulders!
It braced him like a charge of hop--his head jerked up as it hit himand he shook off the drops--and in another second he was on his feet,smilin' the old Scanlan smile and dancin' around this guy who wasrushin' in to finish him. He swings for the Kid's jaw and the Kid,movin' his head an inch out of the way, puts a hard right and left tothe mouth. Brown-Smith coughed out a tooth that he had no further usefor, and starts backin' away, coverin' up like a crab. The Kid laughsover at me and sends this guy's head back like it was on a hinge, withtwo uppercuts and a right jab. He tries to rush in and grab the Kid,and Scanlan closes his left eye with the prettiest straight left I everseen. He wasn't tryin' to knock this big stiff out, he wasdeliberately cuttin' him to pieces in a most cold, workmanlike manner.
Miss Vincent is smilin' now and the other dame--is not! Potts's mouthis open about five yards and he looks like he don't know whether tocall the police or go back to the box office for a better seat. Thenthe Kid starts backin' friend Brown-Smith all over the place, shootin'lefts and rights at him so fast that I bet he thought it was rainin'wallops. He begins to register yellah--he gazes around wildly atGenaro and Genaro reaches for the whistle so's Brown-Smith can quit,but Miss Vincent sees him reach for it and she knocks it out of hishand! Genaro looks hard at her and yells to the camera men to keepturnin' the cranks. Potts starts over, stops, shakes his shoulders andturns his back.
Then the Kid tips back Brown-Smith's head with a lightnin' right hookand drops him with a left to the jaw.
They stopped the cameras and everybody give a hand in bringin' thedashin' Brown-Smith back to the Golden West again. Everybody but me,the Kid and Miss Vincent. The Kid walks over to Potts and stares athim.
"Well," he says. "I guess I'm through after that, eh?"
Potts slaps him on the back.
"Hardly!" he grins. "That was the greatest piece of acting I ever sawbefore a camera!"
Genaro runs up and grabs the Kid's hand.
"Wonderful!" he hollers. "Magnificenta! You are what you calla thetrue artiste, Meester Kid Scanlan! That picture she will be the talkaof the country! She'sa maka me famous!"
"Yeh?" says the Kid. He turns to me and waves over to whereBrown-Smith is recognizin' relatives and close friends. "That guy hasan awful good left!" he says. He thinks for a minute. "D'ye know," hegoes on, "that hick was _tryin'_, at that!"
I see Miss Vincent talkin' to Potts and all of a sudden he throws uphis hands and stares over at Brown-Smith.
"What?" he hollers. "Impossible!"
Then he slaps his hands together and laughs out loud.
"Oh!" he says, holdin' his sides. "This is too much! Ha, ha, ha!"
"What's the joke?" I asks Miss Vincent.
"It's more of a tragedy!" she says, kinda hysterical like she was gladit was all over. "That man is no more Brown-Smith than you are. He'sAlbert Ellington LaRue, who five years ago was the biggest movingpicture leading man in the country! Why, he got hundreds of lettersevery day from poor, foolish little girls who grew dizzy watching himfoil villains in five reels a week. He inherited some money--quite alot, I believe, and suddenly vanished from the screen, turning up asBrown-Smith here last year. But he simply could not resist the call ofhis vanity to come back once more as the dashing hero of the film. Hehad planned to step into this picture, turn the tables in the fightwith Mr. Scanlan, who he thought was an actor and not a pugilist, andthus come back to the movies in a blaze of glory! He told me he hadtwo press agents awaiting the word to flash his coup all over thecountry. He thought it would make a great story!" She stopped andlaughed. "It will!" she goes on. "Think of the matinee girls whenthey see their darling Albert back in the flash once more and beingunmercifully beaten by a man thirty pounds lighter and inches smallerthan him!"
Just then the fair Albert comes limpin' over to Potts. He looked likehe'd been battlin' a buzz saw!
"Mr. Potts," he says, "if you dare to use that scene in your picture, Iwill bring suit against your firm. I demand that the film be destroyedat once!"
"What you say!" screams Genaro. "Nevaire! She'sa mine, that picture!Away wit' you--you bigga bunk!" He stands before the camera like he'sready and willin' to protect it with his life.
"You entered the scene of your own accord, _Mr. LaRue_," remarks Potts,"and I trust you are in earnest about suing us. The publicity willjust about save me a hundred thousand in advertising."
As soon as he heard that name "LaRue," this guy just kinda caves in andcloses up tight. Miss Vincent turns her nose up at him and walks overto the Kid as the other dame comes up and shakes Scanlan's hand.
"Thank you!" she says, in that tired voice of hers. "You have done abig thing for me! Now he cannot go into the pictures again, and maybehe'll--he'll stay home with me!"
At that Miss Vincent suddenly leans over and kisses her. Can you beatthem dames?
Albert picks up his hat and straightens his tie. Then he glares fromone to the other of us and walks over to Genaro.
"I trust," he says, throwin' out his chest. "I trust you realize thatif your picture is a success, I, and I alone, am responsible for it.If it hadn't been for the advent of myself, a finished artist, in thatfight scene, it would have fallen flat! Good day, sir!"
And him and his dame and the white-faced Sweet Williams blows!