The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 221: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE PINK PRUNE PAYS. turn. I had a bite this afternoon and I’m not a bit hungry.” The way Socrates jumped to the out- stretched arms decided the question. Charlie choked down some food at a dirty little restaurant and hurried back in time to make the big man step aside to pass him. He looked more vicious than ever; his cheeks were a dull red, and his eyes burned. “Got his nanny all right,’ grinned the stage-door man grudgingly. “ Been lappin’ ’em up to keep his nerve. Took in a whole quart bottle.” “ Fool,” was Charlie’s only comment as he hurried up the stairs. He knocked on the door of No. 3, four rooms away from his own dress- ing-room at the right end of the gal- lery. “Just a darling!” was the bright- eyed Molly’s characterization of the Pink Prune as she handed him over. “He’s kept me busy playing with him.” Charlie breathed a prayer of thanks when he saw the monkey. All the old life and audacity of the monk were back on the job. “You certainly are some doctor!” he laughed joyfully. “I’m going to take him again be- tween acts,’ she announced. “I’ve got a lot of mending to do and he’s a great help.” Charlie knew from experience the extent of the animal’s “ help.” ‘“ He’s too much of a bother,” he declared. “Now!” she held up a warning fin- ger. ‘“ The doctor orders, and the doc- tor must be obeyed.” | “All right,’ he agreed meekly. “But we can have that bite to eat again?” ‘There was an eagerness in that question there was no mistaking. * Ves,” she nodded, and in her voice was that same curious quality of soft- ness he had noticed before in her use of the affirmative, and in her tender home-songs of the old days. The first performance of the Pink Prune that night left nothing to be 691 desired, and Molly clapped her hands joyfully and gleefully bore him away to her dressing-room. And to make things glow brighter for Charlie Jayson, he heard the stage manager ripping it into the strong man for “ boozing.” One quick glance told Charlie that the strong man was plainly intoxicated, but as he paused to watch it seemed to have no effect on the act unless it was one of stimulation, for he tossed the great weights around like feathers. The second performance was raw again, and Molly’s eyes puckered in a scowl as she saw the juggler swagger- ing around the wings, turning to stare at the monkey whenever Charlie didn’t happen to be looking his way. She sought the stage manager, told him, and he curtly ordered the strong man back stage. The black looks and the blacker words she could not under- stand made her fear, but she forced a smile back to her lips as Charlie fin- ished and repeated the invitation. This time she shook her head sober- ly. “I’m afraid we'll have to put it off to-night. Ive a fearful lot of mending to do, and Gus has promised to let me out.” “Tl wait,’ he announced firmly, and there was no gainsaying him. So he and the Pink Prune waited. He kept his heavy door ajar and heard the other actors come, recognizing some of their footsteps on the shaky floor of the loft, especially the heavy, lurching steps of the strong man. The Pink Prune seemed to recognize them, too, with some strange instinct of his animal nature, and cowered against Charlie’s leg in fear. Sudden- ly the cause of the monk’s. bad work came to him like a flash. Why he hadn’t thought of it before, or why he should think of it now, are one of the mysteries that psychists must explain. “ The dirty pup!” he cursed, leap- ing to his feet inrage. He pulled open the door, and two of the Smasher Sis- ters whistled a chorus of a rag as they went out. COMicdoo S CO@