You Can Search Me

by George V. Hobart

  CHAPTER VII.

  JOHN HENRY GETS A SURPRISE.

  The following day Bunch and I attended to the shipping of all thescenery and props and trick stuff, and we were two busy lads,believe me.

  On Wednesday we tried all day to locate Skinski, but he avoidedpunishment until about four o'clock in the afternoon, when wefinally flagged him and began to ask him questions.

  "I've been busy since Monday," he explained; "brokers and bankersand lawyers, and there are doings. Say! you're two of the deadgamest sports I ever bumped into, and no matter what happens I'mfor you for keeps!"

  "What's the reason for the crab talk?" I asked sharply. "Are yougoing to give us the sorry hand and bow yourself out after we haveput up every mazooboe we possess? What kind of a sour face are youpulling on us?"

  "Oh! pinkies!" he came back. "Did I say anything about quittingyou? Why, I wouldn't give you guys a cold deal not for Morgan'sbank roll. I only wanted to prepare you for certain big happeningsin case there are real doings with that gold mine out in the BlueHills."

  "Sush!" I laughed; "then it's only the hasheesh. But, Skinski, onthe level, I do wish you'd quit smoking those No. 4's; they'll ruinyour imagination."

  "Wait and see," smirked Skinski. "And, by the way, nephew Bunch, Imet a certain old party this morning who thinks you are very hotfried parsnips!"

  "You did," Bunch came back, with a yawn.

  "Yes," replied Skinski; "and a nice old man, too, is Mr. WilliamGrey.'

  "Where the devil did you meet Mr. Grey?" Bunch inquired excitedly.

  "Back, back up!" said Skinski quietly; "I didn't disgrace myfamily. Mr. Peter Grant introduced me to him as your Uncle and Imade good."

  "You met Uncle Peter, too!" I asked in alarm.

  "Surest thing you know," said Skinski; "but, don't worry. TheJefferson family tree will never be blown down by any hot air fromme, so rest easy. Now, let's get down to cases about our openingThursday night."

  Bunch and I were both puzzled by Skinski's peculiar line of talk,but we forgot it and completed all the details for the opening thenext night.

  It was after eight o'clock when I reached home, and Peaches met meat the door with the face lights on full.

  "Now for the secret!" she chirped, as she dragged me into thediningroom.

  "Make mine a small one," I admonished; "I've had a busy day."

  "This is a cure for all your business worries," she gurgled."Guess what, John! We sail for Europe next Wednesday!"

  "Poor Peaches!" I said sympathetically; "that's what you get fordrinking too much tea."

  "I mean it seriously, John!" she cried eagerly. "Uncle Peter hasbooked passages on the Oceanic for the whole family, and he isgoing to pay all the expenses for a three months' trip."

  "Water! water!" I gasped faintly, and I meant it, but Peachesthought I was only cutting up.

  "I knew you'd be delighted," she capered on; "and it was all Icould do to keep from telling you long ago. Uncle Peter says thatthis is the dull season in your brokerage business and the tripwill do you a world of good. You need only take a few hundreddollars for pocket money, and he's going to invest your $5,000where it will be immensely productive."

  I could only sit and listen and pass away.

  What would become of Skinski and Bunch and our good money!

  How could I ever account for the missing funds without leadingPeaches down to Wall Street and showing her the tall buildings theyhad built with my dough.

  And while these dismal thoughts ran through my mind Peaches grabbedthat European trip between her pearly teeth and shook the delightsout of it.

  That night I had an attack of insomnia, neurasthenia, nervousprostration and the nightmare, with cinematograph pictures on theside.

  All night long Skinski had me on the stage in a wicker basket,while Uncle Peter jabbed a sword through me and Dodo sat in thefront row on the aisle yelling "You betcher sweet!"

  Thursday broke clear and cloudless. Just before I left home forthe fatal scene Peaches said, "I'm so sorry business will keep youin the city this evening, John; but of course I realize you havemuch to do before we sail on Wednesday. Alice Grey just phonedover that she has a box at a theatre somewhere, I didn't ask herwhere, but if you're sure you won't be home I'll go with Alice andAunt Martha."

  "By all means," I answered, and kissing her good-bue I trolleyed toNew Rochelle.

  Bunch was there ahead of me and so were Skinski and Ma'moiselleDodo, all working like beavers.

  "I'm going to take the 11:40 to town," Skinski informed us afterall was in readiness for the performance. "I have a very importantdate, 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 ofmy life," Skinski continued. "How's the sale?"

  "There's a three hundred dollar advance sale," Bunch replied; "andPietro in the box office says we're good for a five or six hundreddollar 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 Iever roomed with and nothing's too good for you. I'm for the 11:40thing now, so you better rent a stall in the local hotel and restup till show time. How about you, Dodey? Are you for hunting athirst-killing palace and getting busy with a dipper of suds?"

  "You betcher sweet!" the large lady replied, and with that shegrabbed Skinski's arm and they left us flat.

  Bunch and I loafed around till about an hour before show time, whenwe put a young chap we had sworn to secrecy on the door, and thenwe went back on the stage and began to chatter nervously.

  At seven o'clock Dodo came in with one of those sunburst souses,and as she went sailing by to her dressing room she gave us thehaughty head and murmured, "You betcher sweet!"

  Seven thirty and no Skinski.

  I was nervous, but I wasn't a marker to Bunch. He had long sincegraduated from biting his finger nails, and was now engaged ineating the brim of his opera hat.

  Seven forty-five and no Skinski.

  I was afraid to tell Bunch what I was thinking, and Bunch wasafraid to think for fear he'd spill something.

  Eight o'clock came and still no Skinski.

  It was pitiful.

  I began to see visions of an insulted audience reaching for mycollar over the prostrate form of my partner in crime.

  An usher came back at 8:10 and told us the house was full.

  I grinned at him foolishly and Bunch fell over a stage brace anddisgraced himself.

  At 8:15 the orchestra leader came up to see why we didn't ring inand Bunch told him to ring off.

  I told Beethoven, or whatever his name was, to tune up and playeverything in sight till I gave him the warning.

  At 8:20 Ma'moiselle Dodo waltzed out of her dressing room made upto look like a cream puff.

  "Where's Skinski?" I shrieked. "It's nearly 8:30 and he's keepingthat mob waiting. Isn't he going to show up!"

  "You betcher sweet!" she gurgled, and passed on.

  At 8:25 I rushed into Skinski's dressing room, put on a swiftmakeup, dove into Skinski's fright wig, hid my face behind a falsemoustache and goatee, and prepared to sell my life dearly.

  "What are you going to do?" asked Bunch in wild alarm.

  "I'm going out and pull a few mouldy tricks till Skinski getshere," I answered heroically.

  Then I gave the warning to the leader and rang up the curtain.

  I was greeted by a harsh round of applause as I stepped out and Icould feel both knees get up and leave my legs.

  I pulled myself together, picked up a pack of cards and began to dothings with the deck that no mortal man ever saw before, whileBunch stood in the wings with his teeth chattering so loud theysounded like a pedestal clog accompaniment.

  Then I picked up an egg where Skinski had placed it on the tabaretand started in to do something mysterious with it.

  Just as I raised the egg to show it to the audience I got a f
lashof the stage box on my right, and there, gazing curiously at me,sat Peaches and Alice Grey and Aunt Martha.

  I was so surprised I dropped the egg, and it lay at my feet in theform of an omelet, while the house roared with joy.

  I was so surprised I dropped the egg.]

  At this moment Skinski bounded on the stage, bowed right and left,and in five words he made it appear that I was only a comedycurtain raiser.

  Say! I never was so glad to see anybody in all my life.

  I backed off the stage, and he pulled something on my exit that gotan awful laugh.

  I didn't care. I was so delighted that Skinski was there that Inearly hugged Dodo.

  And he gave them their money's worth, all right. He flashed a lineof hot illusions that had them groggy in short order.

  When the curtain finally fell Skinski was given an ovation, andwhen it was all over we backed into his dressing-room and satlooking at each other.

  "That's the last," our star said, after a pause; "and it was a hotfinish all right."

  "What do you mean?" I gasped.

  "The syndicate has bought my gold mine in the Blue Hills," heanswered calmly.

  "And you're going to throw us after making a start like this?"Bunch almost sobbed.

  "Throw nothing!" Skinski came back. "Didn't I tell you once beforethat I am for you two guys all the old while--didn't I, Dodey?"

  "You betcher sweet!" she answered solemnly.

  "Well, that still goes," Skinski went on. "I've sold out a halfinterest in my Blue Hill gold mine, and I've got the corn to showfor it."

  So saying, he dug up a wad that a hound couldn't leap over.

  "Now, I'm going to pay you each $6,000 to cancel my contract,"Skinski added, after our eyes had feasted on his roll.

  I looked at Bunch, and Bunch was stepping on his left foot to seeif he was awake.

  "No, by Hick! I'll make it seven thousand each," Skinski chortled."You two guys put up your last dollar on me, and you didn't knowwhether I was an ace or a polish. I like you both, for you broughtme good luck. Tear up the contract and take $7,000 apiece, is it ago?"

  "Just as you say, Skinski," I answered nervously. "Of course, ifyou want the tour to continue, why----"

  "Yes, of course," Bunch chimed in; "if you want the tour tocontinue, why----"

  "Oh! pinkies!" said Skinski; "what do I want to go huggingone-night stands for when I have a hundred thousand booboos in thekick. It's the Parisian boulevards for us, and a canter on the BoyBologna, eh, Dodey?"

  "You betcher sweet!" she gurgled thirstily.

  And so it came about that we destroyed the contract, pocketed ourseven thousand each, and bade Skinski and Dodo an affectingfarewell.

  Bunch and I couldn't talk for hours afterwards.

  We were afraid we'd wake ourselves up.

  When I reached home Clara J. started in to tell me what adelightful time she had had at the New Rochelle theatre, and howclever the magician was, and what a funny clown came out first andsmashed a real egg on the stage, but I begged off and went to bed.

  I never slept so soundly in all my life.

  Next day I handed the five thousand dollars to Uncle Peter, and hecomplimented me so highly on my ability to save money that I nearlyswallowed my palate.

  "I'm going to invest this carefully for you, John," he informed me."When we return from Europe you'll be surprised."

  I don't know what powers of persuasion Bunch brought to bear onAlice and Uncle William, but I do know that there was a hurriedwedding ceremony, and that a certain blushing bride and bashfulgroom and a delighted old Uncle who answered roll call when youyelled Bill Grey took passage that next Wednesday with us on theOceanic.

  I was promenading the deck with Peaches and Uncle Peter after wehad been out two days when the old gentleman said, "John, aren'tyou curious to know how I invested your money?"

  "Not particularly," I answered with a laugh,

  "John knows it is perfectly safe in your hands," Peaches beamed.

  "Well, I'll tell you," said Uncle Peter. "Bill Grey and myselfcelebrated the finish of our long quarrel by going into a littlebusiness deal together."

  "Fine!" I said approvingly.

  "We buried the hatchet," Uncle Peter went on, "by investingtogether in a gold mine."

  "Where?" I asked nervously.

  "We formed a little syndicate and bought a half-interest in a mineowned by Bunch's Uncle McGowan, out in the Blue Hills!"

  "And is that where you invested my few plunks?" I asked, forcingmyself to be calm.

  "That's it," chuckled Uncle Peter, "and that's where Bill Grey hasinvested $5,000 for Bunch."

  I excused myself and said I didn't feel like promenading--theundertow made me dizzy.

  I went off by my lonesome and looked across the troubled sea.

  It seemed to me that I could hear a voice coming from far awaybehind that biggest wave, and the voice said, "You betcher sweet!"