CHAPTER V.
"EXIT, LAUGHING"
Every time I see one of them big, fat, dignified guys that looks likethey have laid somebody eight to five they can go through life withoutsmilin' once, I wonder just how much they'd give in American money tobe able to put on a suit of pink pajamas and walk down Fifth Avenuesome crowded afternoon, leadin' a green elephant by a string!
I'll bet they's many a bank president, brigadier-general and what not,that would part with their right eye if they could only forcethemselves to let down for five minutes, can this dignity thing andgive a imitation of what a movie comedian thinks is humor. The bestproof of this is that the first chance any of them birds gets--_that'sjust what they do_!
Y'know, you've seen in the papers lots of times where Archibald VanHesterfeld has been among the starters in the bazaar for the relief ofthe heat prostration victims in Iceland, or words to that effect. Or,if it wasn't Archibald it might have been General Galumpus or CommodoreFedink--or all of them. Away down at the bottom of the page, if it's acopy of the Succotash Crossing _Bugle_, or right up in the headlines,if it's a big town sheet, after readin' what dignity and so forth the"distinguished guests lent to the affair," you'll see that at midnightthey was large doin's on the dance floor. It is even bein' whisperedaround that the general, commodore or governor fox-trotted with thegirls from the Follies and one-stepped with such of the fair sex ascared practically nothin' for the neighbors. Along about the time themilkman was sayin', "Well, here's another day!", the well knowndistinguished guests was actin' like a guy who knows a Harvard mandoes, after they have beat Yale or vice versa.
One of them birds acts so dignified at the office all day that not eventhe most darin' of his clerks would _think_ of a joke in the same roomwith him. He'll breeze home on baby's birthday with a trick lion or ajumpin' jack for the kid, and spend three or four hours on thedinin'-room floor makin' it go, while friend infant wishes to Heavenfather would call it a day and commence readin' the papers, so's _he_could toy with it for a while.
The rest of the family stands around and tells each other that the oldman must have a good heart at that, because look how he goes out of hisway to amuse the baby. Father growls up at 'em and prays that they'llall go to bed, includin' the one that's just learnin' to walk, so's hecan be let alone to really enjoy the thing himself!
We're all babies at heart, and the reason most of us don't admit it andgive in to our childish desires is because we're afraid the people inthe next flat will think we're nutty or have found a way to beatprohibition. Now and then some extry brave guy sneers at the neighborsand lets himself loose, and shortly afterward a committee is appointedto look after his money. Finally, he is shipped f.o.b. to somesanitarium where a passin' nod from the head doctor is listed attwenty-five bucks and where the victim is fed strange foods and tuckedin bed at the devilish hour of nine.
This is naturally very discouragin' to the rest of us which was aboutto tear loose ourselves, so we sigh, growl at the universe--and lay off!
I feel sorry for the guys that have to have their comedy served up tothem in disguise, like lobster a la Newburg, for instance. These birdsclaim they like stuff you got to study for five minutes before you getit, and then at a given signal you pull a nice lady-like laugh, thewhile remarkin', "How subtle!" You don't want to cackle too loud orthe people across the hall will get the idea that you're a tribe oflowbrows, and it'll get said around that your great-grandfather wasknown to go in hysterics over the funny sheet of the Sunday papers!
They think the vaudeville or movie cut-up that does the funny falls isa vulgar lunatic who ought to be in jail, and their idea of the heightof humor is the way a iceman pronounces decollete, or somethin' likethat.
I like my own comedy straight! I want it to wallop me right on thelaugher, so's I can get it the first time and giggle myself sick. I'mextry strong for the loud and common guffaw, and I claim that because Igo into hysterics over the fat-man-on-the-banana-peel stuff, it don'tprove that I'm a heavy drinker, beat my wife and will probably wind upin jail. On general principles I'm infatuated with the bird that canmake me laugh, and I don't care how he does it as long as he makesgood. I care not whether he laughs with me or for me, as long asthey's a snicker in there somewheres. I can even stand him laughin' atme, because, if his stuff is funny enough--I'll laugh too!
No guy who can look around him, no matter how things is breakin' forhim and see somethin' to laugh at as the mob goes by, is beat. Thatbird is just gettin' ready to pull a new punch from somewheres and he'sthe baby you want to watch! The guy that can't see nothin' funny inlife, whether he's eight or eighty, is through!
Me and Kid Scanlan saved one of them guys. His name was Jason Van Ness.
I was sittin' in Genaro's office one afternoon about seven or eightmonths after me and the Kid had decided to give the movies a boost,when the door opens and in comes a guy which at first glance I figuredmust at least be the governor of the state. He's there with a cane, ahigh hat and the general makeup of a Wall Street broker in a play wherehe won't forgive his son for marryin' the ingenue. Also, he's builtall over like a heavyweight champ, except his face, the same runnin' tothe dignified lines of the bloodhounds, them big, flabby, over-lappin'jaws--get me?
"I say, old chap--are you Mister Genaro?" he pipes.
"Nope!" I says. "I'm Johnny Green, manager of Kid Scanlan,welterweight champion of the world."
"Really!" he remarks.
"Well," I says, "d'ye wanna see the contract or will we go over to anotary so's I can swear to it?"
At that he frowns and waves a finger at me.
"Come, my man," he says, "no chaffing now! You may tell Mister GenaroI have arrived! Of course you know who I am?"
That "my man!" thing was a trifle more than I could take! I throws myfeet up on Genaro's desk and give this guy a long, careless once over,puttin' everything I had on the stare.
"I ain't got no more idea who you are," I tells him finally, "than aoyster has of roller-skatin'. Who are you? I never seen _your_ faceon no postage stamps!"
"Oh, I say!" he busts out, registerin' wild indignation. "Don't youever read the newspapers?"
"Sure!" I says. "But then, escapin' convicts don't get much space in'em any more! At that, I think I know you now, though."
"I should think you jolly well would!" he comes back, calmin' downsome. "Why--"
"Yes!" I goes on. "I got you. I've met so many from your lodge it'sfunny I didn't recognize the high signs right away. You're a big,tinhorn four-flusher!"
Sweet Cookie!
His face did a Georgie Cohan, gettin' red, white and blue by turns, andhe pawed the air, gaspin' for breath like a fat piano mover. Before hecan get set for a comeback, they's a loud crash outside the door,followed by the well known dull thud. In another minute Kid Scanlanwalks in, draggin' somethin' after him by the back of the neck.
"Look what _I_ found!" chirps the Kid, droppin' the thing on the floor.
"By Jove!" squeals the big guy. "He's killed my dresser!"
I got up from the chair and took a flash. Sure enough, the thing theKid had dragged in was a human bein'. He was a long, lean guy, lookin'like he'd been over here about long enough to tell the judge thatGeorge Washington discovered America, was president now and stopped theCivil War, and can he please have his first papers, so's he can voteagainst suffrage.
His one good eye opens and examines the room. Then he hops off thefloor, shoots a hand inside his pocket and yanks it out with a thingthat looked like a undeveloped spear.
"_Sapristi_!" he remarks loudly--and makes a dive at the Kid.
The chair I throwed at him was wasted, because Scanlan stepped asideand flattened the assassin with a left hook to the jaw. The big guygives one yell and rushes out of the office.
"Who's your friend?" I asks the Kid, pointin' to the sleepin' beauty onthe floor.
The Kid glares down at the body and prods it with his foot.
"The big stiff!" he
says. "I should have murdered him!"
"Well," I tells him soothin'ly, "it ain't too late yet! What startedthe melee?"
He sits on the side of the desk and lights a cigarette.
"This hick is standin' outside here," he begins, "when I come along aspeaceful as the Swiss navy. I see right away he's a Eyetalian, and I'manxious to show him I can talk his chatter so--"
"Wait a minute!" I butts in. "Since when have _you_ been able to speakEyetalian?"
"What?" he snorts. "Another one, eh? Ain't Miss Vincent been teachin'me English, French, Eyetalian and what to do with the oyster fork?"
"Is she?" I comes back. "That's all new to me. The last flash I gotyou was just takin' up how to enter a room!"
"Well, I'm past that," he explains, "and next week I begin on manners.Anyhow, I see this boob standin' there, and I says to myself, here's achance to pull a little Eyetalian. So with that I stands in front ofhim and says, '_Bomb Germo, Senorita--a vostrican salute_!'"
The Kid stops and bangs his fist down on the table.
"What d'ye think the big hick said?" he asks me.
I passed.
"He grins at me, waggles his shoulders and pipes, '_No spika daEngleesh_!"
"'What d'ye mean _English_!' I says. 'That ain't English, that'sEyetalian, Stupid! _Bomb Germo Senorita_!'
"'No spika da Engleesh,' he pipes again.
"I grabs him by the shoulder and swing him around.
"'What part of Italy was you born in?' I inquires. 'Hoboken?'
"'No spika da Engleesh!' he grins.
"By this time my goat was runnin' around wild. I grabbed his othershoulder and looked him in the eye.
"'I'll give you one more chance,' I says; 'cut the comedy now and comethrough or you're gonna have some bad luck. _Bomb Germo Senorita_!'
"'No spika da Engleesh!' he says.
"With that, havin' took all a human bein' could stand, I let him fall!"
"Just a minute!" I says, as Scanlan starts for the door. "I want toask you a question about the Eyetalian language, as long as you know somuch about it. Just what does _Bomb Germo_ mean?"
The Kid stops and scratches his chin.
"To tell you the truth," he admits, "I don't know!"
At that the door opens and in blows Genaro with the big dignified guyand "Bomb Germo" arises from the floor again, rubbin' the back of hishead.
"What's a mat?" asks Genaro, lookin' very excited from me to the Kid."Why you knock him down Meester Van Ness bureau?"
"Dresser!" corrects Van Ness, puttin' a round piece of glass over oneeye and glarin' at us.
"'Scuse a me!" pipes Genaro, makin' a bow. "Why you knock him downMeester Van Ness dresser?"
The Kid growls at "Bomb Germo" who hisses back at him like a snake andbacks out of range of that left.
"I asked him '_Bomb Germo_,'" explains Scanlan, "and he started to kidme!"
"_Bomb Germo_? _Bomb Germo_?" repeats Genaro. "What is she that _BombGermo_?"
Scanlan grunts at him in disgust.
"You're a fine Eyetalian, you are!" he snorts. "I'll bet you and thatother guy don't know whether spaghetti is a outfielder or a race horse!"
Van Ness removes the one-cylinder eyeglass for a minute and cleans itwith his "for display only" handkerchief.
"Maybe," he remarks. "Maybe the fellow means to say '_Buona Juerno_!'"
"Oh!" grins Genaro. "_Si_! He'sa mean 'Good morning!' No?"
"Yes!" says the Kid. "Correct! Step to the head of the class. I toldthat to Stupid there and he says, 'No spika da Engleesh!'"
"Well," chirps Genaro, pattin' the Kid on the back, "let's all be thefriend now, no? What's the use hava the fight?" He turns to Van Nessand takes his hand, "Meester Van Ness," he goes on, "thisa Meester KidScanlan. He'sa tougha nut--but nica fel'. He'sa fighting champion ofthe world. He'sa taka his fista _so_," he stops and waves his armsaround, "everybody she'sa falla down!" He swings around on the Kid."Meester Kid Scanlan," he pants, "thisa Meester Van Ness. He'sa greatabigga actor. Oh, of the A numbera seven!"
"Yeh?" says the Kid, registerin' "I-should-worry!" and gazin' over at"Bomb Germo." "Well, that ain't my fault, is it? Who's the other guy?"
"Guy?" says Genaro. "Whata guy?"
"The phoney wop!" pipes the Kid, pointin' to the long, thin bird.
"Oh, heem!" snorts Genaro, snappin' his fingers. "He'sa nobody. Justawhat you call the dresser for the granda Meester Van Ness."
"He's got a name, ain't he?" asks the Kid.
"Joosta Tony," answers Genaro.
"Good enough!" comes back Scanlan, walking across the room. "Hey,Tony!" he says. "They tell me you claim to be a Eyetalian."
"That'sa right!" pipes Tony, forgettin' himself and scowlin'.
"Well," goes on the Kid. "_Bomb Germo_!"
"No spika da Engleesh!" frowns Tony, waggling his shoulders.
"You big stiff!" roars the Kid, gettin' red in the face. "You won'tspeak nothin' when I get done toyin' with that odd face of yours!"
He makes a dive for Tony, but Genaro grabs him.
"Joosta one minoote!" pants Genaro. "It'sa maka me laugh! Ho, ho, Iteenk I getta one, two hysterics! Fighting champion of the world,he'sa getta mad at the dresser!"
"By Jove!" pants Van Ness, givin' the Kid the up and down through thetrick eyeglass. "By Jove! I told Tony to converse with no one whilewe were here. What does this--this person mean by buffeting him about?I thought this company was composed of ladies and gentlemen, notstevedores and longshoremen!"
"Don't get gay, Fatty!" yells the Kid, strugglin' with Genaro. "I putbigger actors than _you_ to sleep. I gotta left hand that's gotmorphine lookin' like a alarm clock!"
"Waita, waita!" shrieks Genaro. "We musta all be the friend. Joostawaita when you and Meester Van Ness get better acquainta you'll bejoosta like--"
"Germany and England!" butts in the Kid, tearin' himself away. "Comeon!" he tells me. "Let's get away from here," he glares at Van Nessand Tony, "before certain parties makes any more cracks! If theydo--I'll make 'em look like models for The Dyin' Gladiator!"
"Don'ta minda heem!" whispers Genaro to Van Ness, as we get over to thedoor. "He'sa fina fel'. He'sa no hurta the _bambino_--what you callba-bee. Gotta taka bag of the salts with everything he'sa say. Gottalots temperament!"
"A ruffian, _I_ should say!" remarks Van Ness loudly.
"Bigga bunka!" hisses Tony.
"What?" roars the Kid, swingin' around on them.
"Good day, sir!" pipes Van Ness, steppin' back of the desk.
"No spika da Engleesh!" says Tony, steppin' in back of his boss.
I yanked the Kid outside before violence was had by all.
Jason Van Ness stayed at Film City for about two months. Durin' thattime he made as many friends as the ex-Kaiser would pick up in Paris.They was two reasons for this, the first bein' that he was the mostdignified and solemn guy I ever seen in my life. Stories that wouldput a victim of lockjaw in hysterics couldn't coax a snicker from thatundertaker's face of his which would have made a supreme court justicelook like a clown. In fact, if he'd been a judge and I ever come upbefore him, I would have took one flash at that face and asked him togimme life and let it go at that! His favorite smokin'-room story waswhat causes spots on the sun or somethin' equally excitin', and prettysoon they was a standin' offer of a hundred bucks to the first guy thatcould make Van Ness laugh!
Some of the greatest comedians the movies ever seen laid awake nightsand become famous on stunts they pulled off for the sole benefit of VanNess--and all he did was to inquire if they was crazy or soused!
The second reason that Van Ness was as unpopular as snow durin' theworld's series was because he was the greatest actor that ever moanedfor the star's dressin'-room.
He was brought on to play the lead in one of them early Roman frolicswhere the extry people is called "martyrs" and hurled to the practicallions in the last reel, whilst the emperor raises his hand for theslaughter t
o begin, murmurin' "This is the end of a perfect day!" WhenJason Van Ness walked to the middle of the arena, throwed one end ofhis cloak over his shoulder, faced the camera and give himself up toactin'--well, you forgot all his bad habits and thanked Heaven forlettin' you live to see him!
That baby was there!
He was stuck up, he had no friends, he wouldn't laugh, and he had atrick name and carried a dresser, but, Sweet Papa!--he was _some_ actor!
The Kid and me stood watchin' him the first time he worked, with oureyes and mouths as open as a mobile crap tourney.
"Ain't he a bear?" asks Eddie Duke, comin' up. "That's all two-dollarstuff he's pullin' there, bo! Y' don't see actin' like that every day,eh?"
"Oh, I don't know!" says the Kid, takin' a fresh slant at Van Ness. "Ibet I could give him a battle in Shakespeare, at that! I was a riot in'Richard the Third,' wasn't I?"
"Cease!" sneers Duke. "This bird has got them classics layin' down androllin' over when he snaps his fingers. Did you ever see him in 'QuoVadis'?"
"No!" says the Kid. "But I seen him in tights when they was--"
Just then Miss Vincent comes along. She's in the picture with VanNess, playin' the beautiful Christian martyr which is tied to thelion's back in the fourth reel, because she won't quit chantin' "Now Ilay me--" or somethin' like that. After that they throw her to thepanthers with Abe Mendelowitz, another Christian martyr and the guythat built the scene. She told me that was the story of the thing, andasked me what I thought of it. Personally, I think them martyrs was alot of boobs. If I'd have been there, I would have bent the kneebefore them heathen idols and then done my private prayin' elsewhere.The head martyr might have called me yellah, but no lion would havebroke his fast on me!
While I'm thinkin' about this, Miss Vincent reminds me that she'swaitin' for my verdict on the thing. The last I heard her say wasabout bein' tied to that lion.
"Well," I says, "I'll tell you. I think it's pretty soft for the lionsmyself and--"
"How are you and Stupid gettin' along?" butts in the Kid, pointin' toVan Ness and touchin' Miss Vincent's arm.
She frowns.
"You mustn't call him Stupid!" she says. "Mister Van Ness is an artistand a gentleman--and--and right now I want to tell you that I think allyou men are wicked for the way you have been treating him! Here he isaway out here, a stranger in a strange land, and simply because he isabove the vulgar horseplay so popular around here, you ostracize him.Because his grammar and dress is perfect he is a pariah! Don't youthink he feels that? Isn't he human the same as the rest of you?Why--why, if he were a woman, all the girls would have helped andencouraged him and made him welcome in any gathering while he was here.Don't you think it hurt when you broke up that poker party last nightwhen he came in? Or when he was deliberately excluded from thathunting trip by that wretched Eddie Duke? Or any of the--the mean,petty, little things you have done to him--all of you--since he's beenhere? Oh, you men are horrid!" She gathers up her skirts and flashesScanlan a look, "I thought _you_, at least, were different!" shewhispers--and trips into the picture!
For about three minutes the Kid stands lookin' after her without sayin'a word. He acts like he has stopped one with his chin!
"The big English stiff!" he busts out finally. "What does he mean bycomin' over here and gettin' me in a jam with my girl? I'll _get_ thatbird, though, believe me!"
"What are you gonna do?" I says.
"I'm gonna take that solemn-faced simp back of the African Desert andgive him a chance at the welterweight title!" he snorts. "I'll wallopthat bird till he'll wish he had stayed over in dear old England and--"
"Stoppa!" comes a voice from the back of us, and we look around intothe muzzles of two automatics. On the other end of them was Tony!
"I hear everyt'ing!" he snarls, wavin' the guns and glarin' at us. "Ihear everyt'ing!"
The Kid looks at the guns and coughs, kinda nervous. I was glancin' atfriend Tony, myself.
"Ain't that nice!" I remarks, feelin' my way carefully.
"What you mean?" snarls the ex-"No spika da Engleesh."
"Bein' able to hear everything," I explains, thinkin' to humour him."I'll bet right now you're listenin' to a little spicy scandal at someKing's palace, eh?"
"Don't got funny!" he warns me.
"Ha! ha!" snickers the Kid. "Where d'ye get that got funny stuff?"
"What'sa that?" yells Tony, whirlin' on him and shovin' the guns underhis nose.
The Kid gets pale and shuffles back a few steps.
"No spika da Engleesh!" he pipes, holdin' up his hand.
"Pah!" grunts Tony, registerin' disgust. "Me--I laugh at you! All thetima you talk 'bout Meester Van Ness, I standa righta here with the earwide open. You no feexa nobody--maybe Tony he'sa feexa you! I hearyou say you no lika Meester Van Ness because he'sa no laugha. Sure,he'sa laugha--but not all the tima on the streeta like crazee fel'.When Meester Van Ness--ah, he'sa granda man--when he'sa wanna laugha,he'sa go home, to he'sa rooma, shutta the door and standa in thecorner. Then he'sa a laugha ha! ha! ha! ho! ho! ho!--lika that!That'sa lasta heem all day!"
"Oh, Lady!" says the Kid, holdin' his side. "Can you tie that?" Helooks over and sees Van Ness in a clinch with Miss Vincent--and son,you could see the muscles rollin' under his coat sleeves. "Look at thebig, ignorant boob now!" he howls.
"Ignoranta!" hisses Tony. "Whata you mean, ignoranta? Sevendifference language thisa granda Meester Van Ness he'sa speak! He'sateacha everybody--joosta lika wan college!"
"Why don't you get him to teach you Eyetalian then, Stupid?" sneers theKid. "You're a fine thing to luck your way past Ellis Island when youcan't even tell me what _Bomb Germo_ means!"
"Don't got funny!" warns Tony. "What gooda now for you be fightingchampion for the world, eh? Leetle Tony he'sa standa here calla younames and what can you do, eh? Nothing--joosta nothing! Champion, eh?Ha, ha, ha! Don't maka me laugha, Meester Fightaire!" He shoves thegun in the Kid's face and snarls, "Now!" he says. "Tella Tony youfeela sorry for soaka heem in jaw!"
The Kid bites his lip and edges in a bit. Right away I got sorry forTony!
"I'm sorry!" sneers Scanlan slowly. "Awful sorry--just thinkin' of ithas got me all broke up. I meant to let you have it on the beak, butI'll make up for it now!"
He looks over Tony's shoulder suddenly and yells. "Hey, don't throwthat!"
If they had rehearsed the act, Tony couldn't have fallen for the plantany harder. He twists his neck around to look back like the Kidfigured and Scanlan started one from his left ankle. It caught Tonyright on the button--which in English is the point of the chin--andTony gives a imitation of a seal. He took a dive!
While we're takin' him away from his artillery, I look up and there'sVan Ness lookin' down at us and frownin'. He reaches inside that Romantoga thing he's wearin' and comes out with a round piece of glass whichhe balances on one eye.
"Ah--I say!" he pipes, glarin' at the Kid. "This is getting jollyannoying, my man. It appears that every time we meet, you have justcommitted a murderous assault upon my dresser! Since you arethe--ah--champion fighter of the universe, why do you not joust withmore of its inhabitants and not center your activities upon one whoknows nothing of the art of self-defense?"
The Kid grunts, takin' away Tony's guns and removin' a couple of themlong banana knives from his clothes. Meanwhile, the daredevil dresseris showin' no more signs of life than a sleepin' alligator, so Ifigured it was about time to pull a little first aid stuff. I turnedhim over on his back and took off his coat, grabbin' it by the bottomand holdin' it up. They was a sudden crash and--Sweet Cookie! A lotof things fell on the ground, among 'em bein' one set of brassknuckles, one blackjack, two more guns, a thing that looked like abayonet, five boxes of cartridges, a small bottle of nitro-glycerineand three sticks of dynamite! The last two fell in the folds of thecoat, or we'd all have gone away from there. Tony's master looks atthe layout with his eyes stickin' so far out of his head you could
haveknocked 'em off with a cane.
Scanlan eyes him and laughs.
"This is the bird which don't know nothin' about self-defense, eh?" hegrins, pointin' to Tony. "Well, if he'd been in Belgium a few yearsago, I bet the Germans would never have got through!"
"Oh, I say!" gasps Van Ness. "This is a bit of a shock! Why thefellow is a walking arsenal!"
"He's more like a sleepin' fort, now!" I says, pointin' to Tony on theturf.
"Look at the chances you been takin' havin' a guy like that fasten yourgarters and so forth," pipes Scanlan. "You ought to thank us forexposin' him!"
Then Tony comes to life and havin' helped him down, the Kid helps himup.
"_Sapristi_!" remarks Tony, glarin' at him. "You bigga stiffa!Sometime Tony he'sa feexa you for dis! Whata you hitta me with?"
"I think it was a left hook," the Kid tells him, rubbin' his chin, likehe ain't sure.
"Aha!" snarls Tony. "I know you never hit with your feest sooch apunch! Don't got funny with me any more! I wanna tella you, you keepaup knock it down Tony every fiva, tena, fifteen minootes and some timeTony he'sa got mad! When Tony he'sa got mad--" He stops and makes aterrible face at me and the Kid, "--when Tony he'sa got mad, somethingshe'sa gotta fall!--dat'sa all!"
"Well, you been doin' all the fallin' so far," I says, "and--"
"Ah--I say!" butts in Van Ness--and Tony sees him for the first time, Iguess, because he shivered and got pale. "I say," he goes on, takin' aslant at Tony through the trick eyeglass, "just what does this mean,Antonio? Why are you walking about with this extraordinary collectionof weapons on your person?" He points his finger at the munitions onthe ground, and Tony's eyes follows his. At the same time he makes alittle clickin' noise in his throat and jumps for the pile.
"Where is she the gooda carbolic acid?" he snarls. "And whosa taka myeleven incha stiletto?"
"How dare you ignore my question!" thunders Van Ness. "What are youdoing with all those weapons? Answer me!"
"'Scuse a me!" says Tony, makin' a bow and takin' off his hat. "Igetta them for my brudda!"
"Where's your brother?" asks the Kid. "In Russia?"
"'Sno use _you_ talka to me!" growls Tony, "I no talka back. SometimeTony he'sa getta mad and then--"
"Come, come!" interrupts Van Ness, kinda sharp. "The weapons--what ofthem?"
"'Scuse a me!" bows Tony with another smile. "My brudda he'sa live inSanta Francisco. He'sa fina fel'--my brudda. He'sa name Joe. He'sacome this countree five years ago, no fren's, no spika da Engleesh, nonothing! They putta heem in the basement of the sheepa wit' couplathousand other fel' from seventy-six other countree. One fel' say myJoe he'sa no be able to leava the sheepa at--at--what you call? Idon't know--I teenk maybe Chicago, Pennsylvania, Coney Island--I don'tknow joosta now! Anyhow thisa fel' say Joe he'sa no be able to leavathe sheepa wherever he'sa wanna go--eef he'sa got no money, you 'stanname? Joe he'sa tank dis kinda fel', say coupla nica prayer for heem andthen everybody she'sa a maka sleepa. Joe he'sa get up and taka fourhundred dollar from thisa nica fel'--whosa sleepa lika he'sa dead--soJoe he'sa be able to leeva the sheepa! He'sa a smarta fel', eh?That'sa Joe. He'sa my brudda!"
"Oh, Lady!" says the Kid. "What was you takin' him the ammunition for?"
"Don't spika to me!" snorts Tony. "I no answera you! I tella MeesterVan Ness. He'sa my boss. He'sa fina fel', too--joosta lika my brudda!"
"How dare you!" splutters Van Ness, his face as red as a ale-hound'snose. "What do you mean by that?"
"'Scuse a me!" says Tony. "Don't get mad for Tony. No spika daEngleesh very gooda--maybe I maka meestake! Joe he'sa writa me comeover Santa Francisco queek, because he'sa gotta the trouble wif he'salandlord. Disa fel' he'sa a wanta da rent maybe, I don't know, but Joehe'sa wanta me bring something so he'sa can feex disa fel' nex' time hecome around, you 'stanna me? He say he'sa a bigga fel'--tougha nut!Yesterday I go out and getta wan gun for Joe. Then I teenk maybe thatain't enough for poor leetle Joe against thisa bigga stiffa landlord,so I stoppa drugga store, hardaware, meata store, five, six, sevenaplace and get somet'ing for Joe he'sa feex landlord. Then I hear thisafel' say he'sa gonna feexa _you_!" Tony swings around and points atthe Kid. "Tony he'sa don't care if thisa bigga stiffa he's a championfor the world. Tony he's a gotta knifa, gun, dynamite, carbolic acida,everything for fighta. I talka to heem sweeta and he'sa knocka me downwit' a hook! While I sleepa on the dirt, somebody she'sa taka my goodacarbolic acida and stiletto I getta for Joe!"
"Oh, Lady!" yells the Kid, slappin' me on the back. "This guy is ariot!"
"You may go to the hotel, Antonio," says Van Ness, "and await me there.I am surprised and grieved at your beastly conduct!"
Tony hands Van Ness a gun and the bottle of nitro-glycerine.
"Alla right!" he says. "Tony he'sa go. But watcha this two fel' theywanna feexa you. The little fel' you can shoota--but the bigga stiffawhosa knocka me down, he'sa needa more than that! Taka thisa bottleand throw it at heem harda. That'sa blow heem away so far, it takafour thousand dollar for heem to come back on sheepa, thirda class!"
Van Ness puts the gun and the nitro in Tony's pocket.
"Begone, sir!" he says. "I'll jolly well attend to you later!"
Tony gathers up his junk and throwin' a last glare at me and the Kid,beats it.
Van Ness turns to the Kid, stickin' the eyeglass back in the toga.
"Ah--and now, Scanlan," he says, "will you be good enough to explainthe cause of the--ah--bitter animosity you have for me?"
The Kid frowns and scratches his head.
"Somebody has been kiddin' you," he tells him. "I ain't got _nothin'_for you! Where d'ye get that animosity thing?"
Van Ness sighs so hard it like to blowed our hats off.
"It is beastly plain to me," he says, "that I am about as popular inFilm City as a cloudburst at a picnic! I am snubbed, ridiculed,vulgarly and subtly insulted! Also I am white and human and--ah--Imust confess it has penetrated my skin. _You_ are particularly bitteragainst me--why?"
The Kid studies him for a minute.
"Listen!" he answers finally. "Are you on the level with this? D'yereally wanna know, or are you simply askin' me so's you can pull one ofthem witty remarks on the way I answer you--_and get walloped on thebeak_?"
Van Ness did somethin' then I never seen him do before and only onceafterward. _He grinned_! The Roman toga fell off his shoulders, andhe leans over with his hands on his hips. On the level, his whole faceseemed to change! And then--
Oh, boy!
"Listen, guy!" pipes this big, dignified whatnot. "I'm on the level,all right and I want the lowdown on this thing, d'ye make me?" (Me andthe Kid nearly went dead on our feet listenin'.) "As for wallopin' meon the beak, well--you may be welterweight champion out here, but ifyou start anything with _me_, I'll remove you from the title, d'ye getthat?"
Woof!
The Kid and me falls back against a rock, fightin' for air!
"Oh, Lady!" whispers the Kid, fannin' himself with his hat. "Did youhear what I did?"
"Call me at seven!" I gasps.
"Well--?" drawls Van Ness, lookin' us over.
"They's just one thing I'd like to know," murmurs the Kid, wipin' hisforehead with my handkerchief in the excitement. "What part of dearold England was _you_ born in?"
Van Ness grins some more.
"Brooklyn!" he says, jerkin' out the eye glass again and stickin' it onhis eye. "Surely, my man," he goes on, with that old silly stare ofhis; "surely you have heard of jolly old Brooklyn--what?"
"I know it well!" says the Kid. "It's on the wrong end of the bridge!But where d'ye get the 'my man' thing? And what have you been goin'around like a Swiss duke or somethin', when it turns out you're only aroughneck from Brooklyn? You wanna know why you don't belong, anddon't fit in here, eh? Well, you big hick, where d'ye get that SedateSam stuff?" He slaps Van Ness on the arm. "Why in the Hail Columbiadon't you bust out and giggle now and then, hey?"
/>
"Why don't I?" snarls Van Ness, "Don't you think I'd _like_ to? Don'tyou think I would if I could, you boob?"
"Would if you _could_?" repeats the Kid. "What's the matter--have yougot lockjaw?"
"No!" roars Van Ness, so sudden that we both sidestepped. "No! Notlockjaw, worse! _Dignity_!"
"Have you give the mud baths at Hot Springs a play?" I asks.
"Stop it!" he sneers. "Cease that small time comedy! I'm the mostdignified person in the world--the undisputed champion! I'm FrowningFrank and Imposing Ike rolled into one. It hurts me more than it doesyou, but I can't help it! I fail to remember the last time I enjoyed ahearty laugh and I know it will be a darned long space before I'llsnicker again. My laugher has gone unused for so long that it'satrophied and won't work. I've tried warming it up by going home atnight and guffawing before the mirror, but the result is only amirthless giggle--a ghostly chortle! Of course, I wouldn't dareattempt to laugh in public!"
"Do what?" asks the Kid.
"Laugh!" answers Van Ness bitterly. "I can't even let myself think ofdoing it--why, it would ruin me! My dignity is all I have. It's mystock in trade and without it I would lose my income! Were I to unbendand shatter the air with harmless cachinnation, it would be thought atonce that I had been drinking!" He stopped and sighed some more. "Itbegan ten years ago," he goes on. "I was playing small parts in astock company and one week I was cast for a Roman senator. Beinganxious to make good, I made that noble so dignified that the localcritics dismissed the play with a few paragraphs and gave half a columnto my stately bearing! That started it, and from that time I've playednothing but Romans, kings, governors, cardinals and similar roles,calling for my infernal talent in the one direction. Mechanically Igrew to playing them _on and off_, yet all the time within me burns thedesire to do rough and tumble, yes, by Heaven, slapstick comedy! Butalas, I lack the moral courage to throw off the yoke!"
"Well, Mister Van Ness--" I begins, when the silence begun to hurt,"I--"
"Not Van Ness!" he interrupts. "The name is as false as my manner! Myname is Fink, Eddie Fink, and please don't add the Mister. When a ladI had a nickname, but, alas, I--"
"What was it?" butts in the Kid.
He hesitates.
"Well, it was rather frivolous," he says. "As indeed I was myself--ahappy, carefree youth! The boys called me Foolish--Foolish Fink!" Hethrows out his chest like he just realized how he had been honored atthe time.
Me and the Kid both had a coughin' fit.
"Let's go over to Montana Bill's," I says, when I thought it was safeto look up, "and we'll talk it over."
"Yeh!" chimes in the Kid. "Over a tray of private stock!" He laughsand slaps alias Van Ness on the shoulder. "Cheer up! Foolish Fink,will you have a little drink? Woof, woof! I'm a poet!"
"Thanks!" says Van Ness. "But I'm on the wagon. I stopped drinkingfive years ago, because under the influence of alcohol I've been knownto act the fool!"
"You ain't the only one!" says the Kid. "Anyhow I never touch itmyself and Johnny here only uses it on his hair! But come on over--youcan have your pants pressed or take a shine, I'm gonna buy, and youmight as well get in on it. Bill's got a laughin' hyena in a cageoutside, and maybe you could get him to rehearse you!"
About a week after that, the society bunch in Frisco comes over to FilmCity to act in a picture for the benefit of the electric fan fund forGreenland, or somethin' like that. About fifty of the futurecorespondents, known to the trade as the younger set, blows over incharge of a dame who had passed her thirty-sixth birth and bust daywhen Napoleon was a big leaguer. She had did well by herself thoughand when dressed for the street, they was harder things to look at thanher. Also, when her last husband died, he left her a bankroll thatwhen marked in figures on paper looked like it was the number ofSoutherners below Washington. A little bit of a guy, which turnedaround when you yelled "G. Herbert Gale" at him, breezed over with herand at first I had him figured as a detective seekin' divorce evidence,because he stuck to that dame like a cheap vaudeville act does to theAmerican flag. He trailed a few paces behind her everywhere she went,callin' her "Mrs. Roberts-Miller" in public and "Helen Dear" when hefigured nobody was listenin'. It was easy to see that he had crashedmadly in love with this charmer, but as far as she was concerned theywas nothin' stirrin'.
Except that G. Herbert was inclined to be a simp, he wasn't a bad guyat that. He mixed well and bought freely, although he was riveted tothe water wagon himself. He bragged to me in fact that the nearest heever come to alcohol in his life was once when he used it to clean hisdiamonds.
But G. Herbert was the guy that invented the ancient and honorableorder of village cut-ups. I never asked him what the G stood for inhis name, I guessed it the first day he was in our midst. It meant"Giggle!" This here Herbert person was a laughin' fool! The firsttime I talked with him I thought I was cheatin' myself by only bein'Scanlan's manager. I figured I ought to be in vaudeville knockin' 'emdead for five hundred a week, because G. Herbert roared at everything Isaid. He screamed with mirth at all the old ones and had hystericsover three or four witty remarks I remembered from a show I seen thenight of the Johnstown flood. I thought, of course, it was the way Iput the stuff over, and I was just gonna give the Kid my fare-you-well,when I seen G. Herbert standin' by a practical undertakers shop thatwas fixed up for a fillum. The little simp was standin' over a coffinlaughin' his head off!
That cured me, but him and the Kid become great little pals. I foundout later it was on account of G. Herbert snickerin' at the Kid'scomedy. Scanlan hadn't discovered it was a habit with this guy, and heclaimed here was a feller that knowed humor when he seen it.
One afternoon I see Scanlan and Miss Vincent whisperin' together likeyeggmen outside a postoffice. They called me over, and the Kid tellsme that the society bunch was gonna leave us flat on the midnighttrain, and before they blowed, Potts was gonna give 'em a dinner anddance. All the movie crowd was to mix with Frisco's four hundred, so'sthat both could enjoy the experience and say they took a chance once intheir lives.
But the thing that was botherin' Miss Vincent--(Some dame, that! Shewas the world's champion woman, believe me!) The thing that worriedher was G. Herbert and Helen Dear, alias Mrs. Roberts-Miller. Likin''em both, Miss Vincent wanted to hurl 'em together for good and allbefore the train pulled out.
It seems the only objection the dame had to G. Herbert was the factthat he couldn't keep from laughin'. She had him figured as aeighteen-carat simp and frequently told him so, addin' that she couldnever marry a man who was shy on dignity. Then she gets a flash at ourold pal Jason Van Ness or Eddie Fink, as he claimed, and she fell sohard for him she liked to broke her neck! Here was the only originalSedate Sam! Here was the guy she was willin' and anxious to lead tothe altar and then to the old safe deposit vault! He was so handsome!So dignified! Such a splendid actor! That's the stuff she was alwayshandin' poor little G. Herbert and askin' him why _he_ wasn't likethat? G. Herbert would shake his head, giggle, and say he didn't knowwhy, but he'd ask his parents.
Van Ness couldn't see Helen Dear with opera glasses. He told me hehated 'em stout, and, if possible, had figured on weddin' somebodywithin ten years of his age--either way. I then felt it my duty toinform him that her bankroll was stouter than she was. He goes intohigh speed on the dignity thing and sets sail for Helen Dear like abloodhound after a nigger. He didn't want to look like a vulgarfortune hunter, he claimed, but he figured if he could get his fingerson a piece of Helen's dough, he could bribe G. Herbert to teach him theart of laughin'.
The Kid tells Miss Vincent to forget about the thing, and he wouldguarantee that G. Herbert and Helen Dear went away threatenin' to marryeach other. She said she'd leave the matter in our hands and held hersout. I shook it and Scanlan kissed it--a trick he stole from Van Ness.
The dinner and dance that night was a knockout! Film City is lit uplike a plumber used to be on Saturday night, and the inhabitants isdr
essed like the people that poses for the ads of any cigarette overfifteen cents a pack. As usual, Miss Vincent had the rest of the dameslookin' like sellin' platers in stake race and, believe me, some ofthem society girls would have worried Venus. The Kid was so swelled upbecause she kept within easy call all night that he forgot his promiseto fix up G. Herbert with Helen Dear. The latter, as we remark at thelaundry, was closer to Van Ness all night than the ocean is to thebeach, and it looked like the Kid was gonna have a tough time breakin''em up.
Along around eleven, Miss Vincent calls Scanlan aside and reminds himthat he had better start workin' for G. Herbert, because they would allbe beatin' it for the train in a hour. She also give out that, if hedidn't make good, she was off him for life. Scanlan bows--anothertrick he copped from Van Ness--and takes me away down at the end of thelawn to dope somethin' out.
I tripped over what I thought at first was a dead body and me and theKid props it up in the light.
"Ha, ha!" it says. "Tony he'sa laugha at you! Tony he'sa laugha ateverybody! _Bomb Germo_! thisa fel' tella me--ha, ha, ha!"
The Kid grunts in disgust, lets go and Tony bounces back on the lawn.
"Stewed to the scalp!" says Scanlan. "Frisk him!"
I run my hands over Tony and bring forth a bottle of gin and anotherone of bourbon. The Kid looks 'em over, finally stickin' 'em both inhis coat pocket.
"Come on!" he tells me. "They's no use hangin' around here. If Idon't get back there, some of them Wealthy Willies that have beenwishin' all night will be one-steppin' with Miss Vincent!"
"But how about G. Herbert?" I says.
"He's got my best wishes!" growls the Kid. "He's a nice little feller,but that's the best I can do. What d'ye think I am--Cupid?"
"Well, gimme the alcohol then!" I says. "You ain't gonna fall off thewagon are you, when--"
"Shut up, Stupid!" he butts in. "I wouldn't take a drink of this stufffor what Rockefeller gets for overtime! I want to get it away fromthat wop, so's he'll have somethin' to moan about when he wakes up."
We went back to the party, and a couple of dames standin' at the punchbowl calls to the Kid. He always was a riot with the women! HelenDear is there with Van Ness, and he's got to where he's pattin' herhand, while G. Herbert stands in back of 'em lookin' like he wished hehad some nails to bite.
I come to a table and there's Miss Vincent sittin' alone and shemotions me to sit down with her--so's my back would hide her from therest of the bunch. She says a little bit of society went a long wayswith her, and where was the Kid? Before I can answer her along comesHelen Dear and she plumps down at the table and starts to tell us whata magnificent man Mister Van Ness was. She claims she never seen sucha perfect gentleman in her life. I liked to snickered out loud at thedisappointed way she pulled that one and then the Kid, G. Herbert andVan Ness suddenly comes around a tree and joins the party.
Scanlan winks at Miss Vincent, and she looks at him inquiringly, but hejust shakes his head. I noticed that G. Herbert looked kinda sad, andhe must have put his giggler away because he just sat lookin' down atthe ground. Van Ness is full of life--I never seen him so cheerful--soI figured that while them and the Kid was alone, Van Ness must havetold 'em that Helen Dear had proposed or accepted him.
Finally, Helen Dear looks at her wrist watch and says she'll have totear herself away, because the train leaves in fifteen minutes. Shewastes five of that throwin' soulful looks at Van Ness and he give backas good as he got. G. Herbert offers to get her wraps, comin' to lifelong enough to make the request, but Helen Dear gives him a sneerin'look and says there was servants there for that purpose. It was aterrible throwdown, and Van Ness nearly grinned, but G. Herbert gamelytried a giggle that sounded like the squeak of a stepped-on rat.
While Helen Dear is gettin' into a coat that couldn't have cost anickel under five thousand bucks, the Kid gets up and calls Van Nessand G. Herbert aside. They was gone about five minutes. When theycame back, Helen Dear is just puttin' on her hat and suddenly the thingslips out of her hands and slides down over one eye.
Then--excuse me a minute, I'm in convulsions! I'll never forget it ifI live to see Bryan vote against prohibition! There's Helen Deargettin' red in the face and strugglin' with that hat and--
"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" shrieks Van Ness--_the guy that had lost hislaugher_!--"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" he yells, holdin' the chair so's he canstand up and pointin' at Helen's hat. "You ought to go in vaudeville!"he hollers. "You'd be a riot with that act! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"
Miss Vincent gasps, the Kid grins, and I all but fainted. Here's thisguy laughin' his head off for the first time in ten years and--look atthe time he picked to do it! Sweet Cookie!
Helen Dear turns eighteen shades of red and fights for her breath likea fish when you drag it over the side of the boat. Then up stepslittle G. Herbert. His eyes is kinda glassy, but his face is set andhard. His spine is as straight as a flag pole and he sticks a piece ofglass over one eye, just like Van Ness used to do! Dignity? Why hecould have took Van Ness when that guy was right--_and give himlessons_!
"What does this mean, sir!" he says, walkin' up to Van Ness who isholdin' his sides and fallin' off the chair. Laugh? That bird was inhysterics!
"Ha, ha, ha!" bellers Van Ness. "Get a couple of good camera menquick! Ha, ha, ha, ha! It looks like she got hit with a pie!"
"You infernal idiot!" roars G. Herbert. "How dare you laugh at thislady?"
"Oh, boy!" answers Van Ness, finally rollin' off his chair. "Ha, ha,ha, ha!"
"Come, Herbert!" pipes Helen. "We will go back together and my answeris Yes! Thank Heaven that man stands exposed in his true character!"
"Thas' right!" nods Herbert, waggin' his head and glarin' at all of us."C'mon--hic--Cmon, M' dear!"
Somethin' comes staggerin' up and grabs the Kid by the arm. It wasTony.
"Aha!" he yells. "Who'sa taka my bottle gin, bottle bourbon?_Sapristi_! You bigga stiffa, I--"
The Kid gives him a slow straight arm, and Tony goes over the tablebackwards, landin' right beside his master.
"No spika da Engleesh!" says Scanlan, as Tony disappears.
I grabbed him by the arm.
"Show me them bottles," I says, gettin' wise in a flash.
The Kid takes out two _empty_ non-refillables and tosses 'em in thegrass.
"My!" he says, dreamily. "How that little guy went to it!"
Toot! Toot! Toot! goes the Santa Fe flier pullin' out with G. Herbertand Helen Dear.
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha--ho, ho, ho, ho!" screams Van Ness fromunder the table. "She promised--ha, ha, ha! to cheer me up--hic--ha,ha, ha! and she--hic--certainly--ha, ha, ha!--made good!"