Chapter IX: Act III: SCENE: Club rooms as before. Time, next day after Act II (1)

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MARY. (_Discovered as curtain rises._) Alfaretta is very negligent of her work lately. There’s the flowers for the president put away in the corner instead of on the desk, as they should be. (_Puts flowers on the desk._) The postman is late to-day. Poor fellow! I wonder if he is stuck in the tube again. I wouldn’t be shot through that tube for anything. Just think of being chucked into that pipe and fired a mile between breaths. The man always looks as if he were out of breath. They say all the carriers have to be hypnotized before they go into the tube. I think it’s cruel. (_During this speech she is looking at old letters in boxes._) There are letters here for a member that’s been dead five years. Why didn’t that party give notice of her demise. (_Noise outside, L._) There’s Mack bringing the ice. Dear fellow! My heart is all in a flutter. I’ll just wait to see if he comes in here to speak to me. I know he will. He’s blue all day if he doesn’t see me. Oh, if that terrible Birdie Robbins should discover us. I aint a bit afraid of the president. If she ever says boo, I’ll just ask her how the Hon. Brennan de Cork is. Oh, there he comes.

_ENTER MACK, L._

MARY. Good morning, Maxie! You are irresistible this morning.

MACK. Hist, Smiley, we may be overheard.

MARY. There’s no one here.

MACK. Are you sure? If the club found out, you would lose your place and I should be compromised. They are so against love-making.

MARY. Yes, sometimes.

MACK. What do you mean, Smiley?

MARY. Better call me plain Smilax. You are here on business, you know.

MACK. All right, dearie, but what did you mean by that _sometimes_?

MARY. Oh, nothing. I know a thing or two.

MACK. I think my driver suspects me.

MARY. Yes, she’s a jealousy old thing.

MACK. Do you think that’s it?

MARY. Sure! Get the company to put on a man.

MACK. Oh, I couldn’t think of trying that. They might suspect, and if they found out I’d be discharged instantly. It’s posted in the rules and in display at that: “All male employés are absolutely forbidden to receive attentions from women, on pain of instant dismissal.” The man has to take all the blame you know.

MARY. I’ll protect you, have no fear.

MACK. (_Pleadingly._) Mayn’t I name the day?

MARY. No, not yet. You see, I’ve a good soft job here and I shan’t give it up till the last minute. I’m savin’ money. Now, you’d better go, Maxie. Some one _might_ come, you know. (_Noise outside, R._) There, be quick. (_Snatches kiss. Kiss may be blown if advisable._) Ta, ta!

MACK. (_Going L._) Au revoir!

MARY. Just in time. Some one is coming.

_ENTER HYKIGHT, R., followed by members to attend Directors’ meeting. Buzz of conversation. MISS HYKIGHT takes chair, calls meeting to order. Members seated. Buzz of conversation._

PRES. The meeting will come to order! (_Nobody pays any attention._) Order, ladies! (_Sharply._) Order, if you please. (_Sudden silence._) A special meeting has been called to transact very important business. The call specifies an emergency and was made at the instance of Vice-president Robbins. Secretary, are the directors all present?

SEC. (_Reads roll._) Hykight, Robbins, Lightfoot, Doughflyer, Willie Jones—not present. Is Miss Jones in the city, does any one know?

DAISY. (_Rises with solemn demeanor._) Miss President, I have an unpleasant duty to perform. (_All in attitude of expectancy._) I regret to say that Miss Willie Jones is no longer worthy to be a member of this club.

CHORUS. Oh! What has she done? Do tell us.

DAISY. The story of her treachery is soon told. She has eloped!

CHORUS. Good gracious!

DOLLIE. And _so_ timid!

BIRDIE. (_Severely._) Timid, indeed! All put on! I knew all the time that she’d do something. She’s as sly as a weasel. I think no motion is necessary to strike her name from the roll.

PRES. (_Gravely._) No, that is not necessary. Secretary, strike Miss Jones’ name from the roll. If there is no objection I will appoint Miss Dollie Giglette director in her place. Now, Miss Robbins, you may state the object of the meeting.

BIRDIE. Oh, I’m so overcome, I must have a moment’s time. (_Uses smelling bottle._) That horrid, sly, deceitful Jones girl has completely upset my nerves.

DOLLIE. Miss President, I think I can state the object of this meeting, if Director Robbins will allow me. It’s all about two men who get in here accidentally. I think there’s a good deal of pother about nothing. I advised Robbins to let the whole thing drop.

BIRDIE. When such things are overlooked or winked at, the days of the Anti-homo Club are numbered, its purpose wholly defeated. Dissolution is at hand.

DOLLIE. Well, if a little thing like that is going to kill it, I say—

BIRDIE. (_Severely._) What does the constitution say?

DOLLIE. If you insist, then let us take the matter up. One was the ice man who has a yearly permit to call once a day between the hours of 9 and 10 a. m. The other was a plumber.

BIRDIE. I saw the wretch! He was no plumber.

DOLLIE. A plumber is what is known as an emergency man and needs no permit, just as a male doctor was once called in to treat a member, in an emergency.

BIRDIE. I demand an investigating committee.

DOLLIE. Oh, I make no objection if you think it so important as that. But emergencies will arise. The ice man and the postman can not always be on time. As we know, under the new system, the postman is shot through the Instantaneous Pneumatic Delivery Company’s tubes. Only a few days ago the poor fellow stuck in the tube owing to his carelessness in dropping a peach pit as he entered the chute. Reversing the engine only wedged him tighter and he would have smothered if one of the professors in charge had not thought to fire fresh oxygen balls at him by means of the new aluminum, vacuum, weather-report gun. Now they can’t shoot a plumber through the tubes because—

BIRDIE. I insist this was no plumber. Plumbers don’t wear eye-glasses. I found his on the floor. (_Produces glass._ “Ohs” _by members._)

PRES. Suppose we call Mary. (_Pulls bell._)

DAISY. We might as well go to the bottom of the matter. It’s sure to get into the papers now.

BIRDIE. Yes, thanks to the indifference of the Public Censor, Adelaide Witherspoon.

_ENTER MARY, L._

PRES. Mary, have you seen any men in the club rooms?

MARY. Only the licensed ones.

BIRDIE. (_Severely._) Smilax, do you ever examine their licenses?

MARY. Why no! I know them all.

BIRDIE. How careless! Now tell me plainly, have you seen anything here that didn’t look right?

MARY. (_Confused._) Why, I—that is—

DOLLIE. Robbins, had you not better leave all this to the investigating committee?

BIRDIE. Let the president name it then.

PRES. I name the president, the secretary and Miss Dollie Giglette.

BIRDIE. I’ll have no whitewashing.

PRES. (_Sternly._) Is this a reflection on the chair and the committee?

BIRDIE. I make no charges. I only demand my rights. As the one making the motion, custom demands that I be named on the committee. Add Doughflyer. Doughflyer has the best interests of the club at heart.

DAISY. I shall try to act in this grave matter as would become my illustrious ancestors the Du Fays who came over with the Normans.

DOLLIE. Oh, I’m a Norman, too.

PRES. We are making much of a trivial matter.

BIRDIE. You will find it not so trivial before we get to the bottom. Smilax, tell me plainly, did you see a plumber in the club rooms yesterday?

MARY. I? Goodness, no!

BIRDIE. Did you see a dude?

MARY. (_Throws up hands._) Laws a me, no!

BIRDIE. Well, I did, and so did Giglette. With him was another person, a fine-looking person I regret to say, who evidently had no business here.

DAISY. A dude! Shocking! A plumber is bad enough but a dude—Let the investigation proceed.

SEC. (_Starting uneasily._) Miss President, I decline to serve on that committee. In fact, I have an important communication to make and deem this an opportune time. I hereby resign my office and my membership in the club. (“Oh’s” _as before._)

PRES. (_Solemnly._) This investigation apparently is about to assume a personal tone, which I deprecate and can not countenance. I also resign rather than be a party to such an inquisition. (_Rises, vacates chair, comes down C. Sensation_ “oh’s,” “Did you ever,” _etc._) And I don’t mind saying further, since certain persons are so inquisitive, that Chief of Police, Brennan de Cork has consented to change his name soon to Hykight. (_Sensation as before._)

DOLLIE. Congratulations, old chap!

SEC. (_Rises and comes out from desk._) And Mr. Blake of the gas company has at last consented to become Mr. Blake-Lightfoot. I’ve saved enough for two.

DOLLIE. Shake, old chap! (_Groans, others buzz._)

MARY. And, if you please, ladies, I give notice. Next month I lead Mr. Mack to the altar. (_Excitement._)

BIRDIE. And you too, Smilax! Since you were a tiny waif, this club has been your mother and has watched over you. We taught you to be a new woman, and this is our reward.

MARY. Oh, please, Miss Robbins, I respect you greatly, and I do love the club dearly (_sighs_), but I love dear Mack more. I just couldn’t help it. (_Cries with face in apron._)

BIRDIE. There’s nothing to do but close the doors. The club is dead. (_Wipes eyes._)

DOLLIE. (_Crosses R. C., takes BIRDIE’S hand._) Cheer up, Robbins, cheer up. You are not a marrying woman. I value freedom too much to surrender it. And there’s Doughflyer, she’ll stick by us. She has principles—and a _name_. We’ll go on as before.

BIRDIE. The mischief is done.

DOLLIE. We’ll reorganize if necessary. (_She leads BIRDIE down C., dress stage._)

BIRDIE. (_Sadly._) No, we never can survive this disaster. The old woman will laugh at the new, and ridicule kills. The club is dead. The finger of progress goes back on the dial of time at least a century. Good-bye dear, old club, the scene of my busiest, happiest, hours. Good-bye forever.

_R._ _L._

PINK T., ROSA, BIRDIE, DOLLIE, DAISY, MARY.

CURTAIN.

ONLY COLD TEA

A TEMPERANCE FARCE

BY T. S. DENISON

_Author of_
Odds with the Enemy, Initiating a Granger, Wanted, a Correspondent, A
Family Strike, Seth Greenback, Louva, the Pauper, Hans Von Smash,
Borrowing Trouble, Two Ghosts in White, The Pull-Back, Country Justice,
The Assessor, The Sparkling Cup, Our Country, Irish Linen
Peddler, The School Ma’am, Kansas Immigrants, An Only Daughter,
Too Much of a Good Thing, Under the Laurels, Hard Cider,
The Danger Signal, Wide Enough for Two, Pets of Society,
Is the Editor In? The New Woman, Patsy O’Wang, Rejected,
Only Cold Tea, Madam P’s Beauty Parlors, Topp’s
Twins, A First-Class Hotel, It’s all in the Pay-Streak,
The Cobbler, A Dude in a Cyclone, Friday Dialogues.

_Also the Novels,
The Man Behind, An Iron Crown, etc._

CHICAGO:
T. S. DENISON, PUBLISHER,
163 RANDOLPH STREET.

ONLY COLD TEA.

CHARACTERS.

MR. BOB SLIGHTLY, fond of a drop.
DICK PLYER, friend of Bob’s, “takes the same.”
DR. GAGG, who knows what ails a person.
MRS. SLIGHTLY, who drinks tea.
ALICE, her sister, admired by Bob.
MRS. NEVERDUN, who does not know when to go.

_Time of playing, twenty minutes._

PROPERTIES.

Bottles with labels and cold tea, hand-satchel for doctor, books, bottle of smelling salts, cane for Dick.

STAGE DIRECTIONS.

_R._ means right of the stage; _C._, center; _R. C._, right center; _L._, left; _1 E._, first entrance; _U. E._, upper entrance, etc.; _D. F._, door in flat or back of the stage. The actor is supposed to be facing the audience.

ONLY COLD TEA.

SCENE—_Slightly’s Parlor. Doors Right and Left. May have door
at only one side, and one back, or only one door, if no better
can be done. Sofa, table, chairs, etc., to taste. Discovered,
Mrs. S., and Alice, as curtain rises, seated by table C._

MRS. S. Alice, I’m afraid Dick Plyer takes a little too much wine.

ALICE. I begin to think so myself. At that dinner at the Brown’s he came pretty near making a show of himself.

MRS. S. Go slow, Alice, don’t get too fond of him.

ALICE. Leave that to me. I am decided on one thing and that is I shall never marry a tippler. There may be enough trouble in the family already.

MRS. S. Sister, what do you mean by that, neither of our brothers drinks.

ALICE. No, thank heaven, but you don’t have to go so far as that.

MRS. S. (_Jumps up, drops her work._) Alice, what do you mean?

ALICE. I mean your husband, Mr. Bob Slightly.

MRS. S. Alice, this is unkind of you. Robert never was intoxicated in his life. He says so himself.

ALICE. Before long he may not be able to say that. Sister, you don’t hear what people say, as I do.

MRS. S. (_Distressed_) Alice, what do they say?

ALICE. Well, they say that since Mr. Bob Slightly’s old chum, Dick Plyer, has returned from the west, that both are taking a great deal more liquor than is good for them.

MRS. S. But Robert is so kind and so good natured he can’t refuse, and his business requires it, you know.

ALICE. I know it doesn’t. How does brother John get along in the same business, without constant treating?

MRS. S. But Robert never was drunk in his life. He has often told me so. He never told me a lie yet.

ALICE. But he forgets that he has a liking for it, and that his appetite will grow.

MRS. S. Alice, you alarm me, this is dreadful. Oh, anything but a drunkard! But why do you encourage Dick Plyer, if he is so dangerous?

ALICE. Encourage him! I never encouraged him. I wanted to be sure of his character, and now that I know his weakness I shall decline his company.

MRS. S. But what can I do for poor Bob?

ALICE. Take the wine off your own table.

MRS. S. I never thought of that. But then Robert wishes it. It is necessary for his digestion he says.

ALICE. If put to the test which would he prefer? You or the wine?

MRS. S. Oh me, of course. He is so fond of me.

ALICE. That is what all wives say. Listen to me. Dick Plyer has written me a note that he will call this very evening. He’ll come up with Bob and you will set out refreshments. The men will make a pretense of eating, but they will drink a great deal more. For some men the word _refreshments_ means drink. They don’t care a snap about the eating.

MRS. S. Oh goodness! I’ve noticed some men eat enough for a family.

ALICE. Take my advice and observe them closely.

MRS. S. But what can I do?

ALICE. I have a plan. To show your husband the effects of intoxication in its true light just get drunk yourself.

MRS. S. (_Surprised._) I get drunk! Horrors! Alice, are you crazy?

ALICE. Not a bit of it. That’ll teach him a lesson he won’t forget soon.

MRS. S. (_Decidedly._) I shan’t do it, that would be disgraceful.

ALICE. (_Laughs._) Just pretend, you goose. Did you think I wanted you to march down the middle of Broad street swinging your hat and singing “We wont go home till morning?”

MRS. S. You are ridiculous.

ALICE. Seriously, try it.

MRS. S. When?

ALICE. Now, this very evening.

MRS. S. It would be a great joke. But I can’t act a part as you can.

ALICE. Oh, it’s easy. Just stagger a little and look silly and say idiotic things. You’ve seen men drunk.

MRS. S. Do you think Robert would get angry?

ALICE. He might, but it’ll set him to thinking. Of course he mustn’t find out the trick.

MRS. S. I’ll do it just for a lark, all to ourselves.

ALICE. It’ll be a capital joke. I’ll pretend not to know what ails you.

MRS. S. How shall we proceed? Robert will be home pretty soon to take his bicycle ride before dinner.

ALICE. I’ll fill a wine bottle with cold tea and put glasses on the table. (_Exit L. for things._)

MRS. S. Alice is so full of mischief. I’m afraid I can’t do it right. I’ll have to stagger and hiccup I suppose and be quarrelsome. That is the way drunken men always act in plays.

_RE-ENTER ALICE with two bottles and glasses, L._

ALICE. (_Looking at label._) “Veuve Clicquot.” How’s that?

MRS. S. Goodness, he’ll think I’ve been drinking champagne.

ALICE. So much the better. Muss up your hair. Look silly. (_Musses MRS. S.’S hair._)

MRS. S. Oh, Alice, I can’t do it.

ALICE. Yes you can. (_Noise outside, R._) There he comes. Sing a song! (_Spills liquid on table. ALICE seated L. takes book and pretends to read._)

MRS. S. Poor Bob! it’ll be such a shock!

_ENTER BOB gaily, R._

BOB. Hello Pussie, I’m home early, you see. (_Notices her._) Why Puss, what ails you? (_Alarmed._) Another spell, dear?

MRS. S. Oh, Bob! you dear old—goodness me. (_Staggers to sofa and buries her face in the cushions._)

BOB. (_Alarmed._) Why, she is sick! Alice, what ails her?—why didn’t you telephone for me?

MRS. S. (_In changed voice._) Bob, you’re a trump!

BOB. Oh, she’s out of her head!

ALICE. (_Reading._) I guess not.

BOB. I say she is very sick. (_Feels his wife’s pulse._) She’s in a fever! How long has she been taken? (_Petulantly._) Why do you sit there so unconcernedly. Puss—Puss. When was she taken?

ALICE. (_Reading._) Oh, I found her that way when I came in. She said she wasn’t sick.

BOB. But don’t you see she is sick? Can’t you do something?

ALICE. (_Reading._) Do something yourself. She’s your wife.

BOB. Heartless creature! put that book away. (_Snatches book away from A., and flings it out L._)

ALICE. (_Jumping up._) That’s manners, Mr. Slightly!

BOB. (_Dancing around excitedly._) Do something, for heaven’s sake. She’s in a high fever, she’ll faint. (_MRS. S. groans._) Get the salts, quick! You stand like a post. Rub her hands. (_Darts out L. saying_) I’ll call Dr. Gagg. (_Women do not hear this._)

ALICE. (_Going to MRS. S._) Get up you ninny, you are not half playing it.

MRS. S. (_Laughing._) Poor Bob, it is too bad, it distresses him. I can’t do it right.

ALICE. Well, I could. Sing, dance!

MRS. S. Why Alice, you shock me!

ALICE. Then upset the table, break something, stagger. (_MRS. S. staggers round room. Flings a book across the room._) That’s it, throw something at his head.

MRS. S. I’ll upset the table!

ALICE. Do it!

_ENTER MRS. NEVERDUN, R._

MRS. N. I’ve been ringing half an hour! (_ALICE and MRS. S. scream in chorus, MRS. S. falls on sofa as before._)

ALICE. (_Aside._) That horrid Mrs. Neverdun!

MRS. N. Dear me! Is she sick?

ALICE. Yes, one of her fainting spells! Call some one please, quick! (_Rubs MRS. S.’S hands._)

MRS. N. (_Down front, looks at bottles, sniffs suspiciously._) Well I never! Them bottles looks awful suspicious. This is pretty goins-on for respectable people.

ALICE. (_Busy working with MRS. S._) Oh, Mrs. Neverdun, please do something. The salts are on the side-board. Call Mr. Slightly.

MRS. N. (_Down front._) She’s drunk! Champagne, too! That’s a matter for the church. I s’pose I’ll have to testify.

ALICE. (_Coming down._) Mrs. Neverdun, don’t let her fall. Go to her. (_MRS. N. goes to MRS. S._)

MRS. N. I guess she aint very bad!

ALICE. I’ll call Robert. (_As she goes L., sweeps bottles off table, one in each hand, leaves glasses, runs out L. MRS. S. gets up angrily._)

MRS. N. Don’t excite yourself, dearie!

MRS. S. Hold your tongue, woman!

MRS. N. Laws a me! She’s gittin’ sassy, jist like a man!

MRS. S. I wont be insulted in my own house!

MRS. N. Dear me suz! Who’s insultin’ you, I’d like to know?

MRS. S. You are, you know it, too!

MRS. N. Highty tighty, that’s the best proof in the world of your condition. You are a real nice lady when ye’re sober.

MRS. S. (_With scorn_) Do you mean to say, Mrs. Neverdun, that I am not sober? You are a gossip!

MRS. N. Oh, don’t go a callin’ names. I aint a callin’ any.

MRS. S. Oh dear, it’ll be all over town before night.

MRS. N. An’ s’posin’ it is? What kin women expect that goes an’ gits full o’ that nasty champagne. An’ it goes right to the head, too, an’ stays there.

MRS. S. How do you know?

MRS. N. Bob Slightly has had enough experience to tell his wife better.

MRS. S. Oh, Mrs. Neverdun, don’t speak that way. You are mistaken, I can explain it all.

MRS. N. I aint askin’ no explanations.

MRS. S. Please say nothing about this. I’ve been foolish. Be my friend, will you?

MRS. N. Good land, haint I always been yer friend? I haint an enemy in the world as I knows of. An haint I been active in the sewin’ society an’ didn’t I give them as nice refreshments as anybuddy? If I am nobuddy but Ole Missus Neverdun, aint I as good as the best of ’em. (_Gets voluble, talking faster and faster._) I aint no fool, I kin tell ye.

MRS. S. Yes, but—

MRS. N. I don’t care a tuppence fur their talk. My tea an’ my coffee an’ my doughnuts aint beat nowhere.

MRS. S. Yes, but I—

MRS. N. I don’t care a rap. Mrs. Hartley wears dimons and lace and she sets a mighty poor table, an’ I aint afraid to tell her so. They all eat at my house till I thought they’d bust. (_MRS. S. laughs._) You kin laugh Mrs. Slightly, but I won’t be put on. (_More and more excited._) An’ I’ll have my say when it comes to that. Sallie Neverdun aint the kind to be put on an say nothin’.

MRS. S. But Mrs. Neverdun—

MRS. N. I aint castin’ no reflections on _your_ table, fur it was bang up, an’ I sez right there, to Marier Wilkins, sez I, “this layout beats Mrs. Hartley’s with her dimons an’ her kerridges an’ she—”

MRS. S. (_In despair._) But, Mrs. Neverdun, haven’t I always been your friend?

MRS. N. I’ve nothin’ agin you, Mrs. Slightly. Haven’t I just said that many’s a time? I said to Marier Wilkins that your table beat Mrs. Hartley’s all holler, with her dimons an’ two niggers to dish salat an’ turn coffee. Why, her salat—

MRS. S. (_Excitedly._) But _Mrs._ Neverdun—

MRS. N. There! it’s goin’ to her head agin. Lay down a spell.

MRS. S. Goodness! _do_ let me say a word.

MRS. N. An’ haint ye been talkin’ all the time, I’d like to know!

MRS. S. Please don’t say a word of what happened here this afternoon. I can explain it all.

MRS. N. I aint askin’ no explanations, I tell ye. Everybody must think Sallie Neverdun is an inimy o’ mankind goin’ round devowerin’. The whole town knows I wouldn’t harm a worm o’ the arth. But s’posin’ it gits out an’ the church hauls me up as a witness, I reckon they’d _make_ me tell.

MRS. S. I’ve made a pretty mess of things. (_Calls._) Robert! Alice! Where can they be? (_Going L., meets ALICE entering._)

ALICE. (_Aside._) Get rid of her.

MRS. S. Hist, we must explain all. (_They turn C. towards MRS. N._) Where is Robert?

ALICE. I don’t know. The cook says he went tearing down the street bare-headed.

MRS. N. No wonder he’s tearin’ round. It’s enough to make any man tear round!

ALICE. (_To MRS. N._) Go and look for Bob.

MRS. S. Oh goodness, what shall I do?

MRS. N. Don’t excite her, young woman! Lie down, dearie.

MRS. S. (_Indignantly._) I am perfectly well.

MRS. N. Indeed you are not, you are dreadfully flushed! Are ye sick at the stummick? You must lie down. (_Leads MRS. S., resisting, to sofa._) Alice, arrange the cushions. (_Just as they get her comfortably located._)

_ENTER hastily R., SLIGHTLY followed by DR. GAGG. Latter puts pill bag on table and goes to patient._

ALICE. (_Aside._) Now the fat’s in the fire.

BOB. Are you better, darling?

MRS. S. (_Faintly._) I think so. I didn’t need Dr. Gagg, dear.

DR. Nothing like precaution, madam. (_Feels her pulse._) Some fever. Any vertigo?

MRS. S. (_Faintly._) Yes.

DR. Mr. Slightly, your wife’s nerves are unstrung!

MRS. N. Well, I should think so.

DR. She must have quiet. She’ll be all right to-morrow.

MRS. N. (_Aside._) Knowed that much myself.

BOB. (_Anxiously._) What is the matter, doctor?

DR. Old complaint with complications. (_MRS. S. throws up her hands unnoticed by DR._) Her nerves are unstrung. Observe the abnormal action of the levator labiæ superioris, the orbicularis oris and the levator palpebrarum.

MRS. N. Land o’ rest! jist hear that!

DR. I think there is a slight difficulty, too, in the decussation of the medulla oblongata which has established a sympathetic action with the solar plexus and the pneumogastricus.

MRS. N. Say, Dr. Gagg, what does all that rigmarole mean? hysterics?

DR. (_Glaring at her._) The science of medicine, madam, has made many advances since you were a child.

MRS. N. Ye don’t say! An’ I s’pose it’ll keep on a-dancin’ till a doctor knows when a person’s—(_warning gesture from MRS. S._)

DR. (_Aside to BOB._) That woman is exciting your wife. Get rid of her.

BOB. How the——what can I do with her?

_ENTER DICK PLYER, gaily, R._

DICK. I say, old boy, I was just going past—(_Sees MRS. S._) I beg pardon. Is Mrs. Slightly indisposed?

BOB. Only a slight nerve attack.

DICK. I’m very sorry if I disturb her.

MRS. S. It is nothing at all. I am glad to see you, Mr. Plyer. Alice, please show Dick a chair. (_Gives ALICE knowing look._)

ALICE. Take this seat, Mr. Plyer. (_Then goes and whispers to MRS. S._)

BOB. I say, Dick, wont you go into the smoking room? I’ll join you as soon as I can leave my wife.

DICK. Oh, certainly, I’m awful sorry! Can’t I be of any use?

DR. Just one moment, Mr. Slightly. Take this prescription to be filled at once! Make haste! Dose every half hour, till patient finds relief. Miss Alice, wet a cloth with vinegar and place it on her forehead. The solar plexus is dangerously disturbed.

MRS. N. That’s an anatomy I never heerd tell of.

ALICE. Robert, I wish to speak with you, if Mr. Plyer will step into the smoking room meanwhile.

DICK. Certainly! At your service. (_Bows politely, exit D. F._)

BOB. (_Going with A., L._) Excuse me a moment, Dr.

DR. (_To MRS. N._) A word with you, madam. (_They come down C. so MRS. S. can not hear._) You appear for some reason to excite the patient. You had better go at once.

MRS. N. Oh, I kin take a hint.

DR. I mean for her sake, you know.

MRS. N. You needn’t palaver. What ails her?

DR. (_Mysteriously._) A very strange case, madam. Very strange. It would baffle the skill of a young practitioner. The eye of science madam—

MRS. N. I ’low it takes the eye o’ science to see through a grindstone when there aint no hole in it.

DR. (_Pleased._) Exactly! I’ve had in my lifetime just three such cases, all since la grippe came. I may say, in fact, that I have discovered a new disease.

MRS. N. Doctor Gagg, you are a wise man. (_He bows and looks puzzled._)

DR. A compliment madam?

MRS. N. Nonsense! Did you smell her breath?

DR. (_Surprised._) I, no indeed! Why should I?

MRS. N. You’ve made a fool of yourself. She’s drunk, that’s all!

DR. (_Excitedly._) A fool! Drunk! Why madam, this is scandalous.

MRS. N. Oh, keep cool. You’ll get well paid to say nothin’. But didn’t I see the bottles on the table?

DR. But it is impossible.

MRS. N. Didn’t I see her stagger? If you don’t b’lieve, look at the puddles of wine on the table. Smell it.

DR. (_Puts finger in liquid spilled, smells._) True! Why, this is an insult to my profession.

_ENTER BOB, followed by DICK and ALICE._

BOB. Dr. Gagg, I wish a word in the smoking room.

DR. (_Indignantly._) I have a word, too, sir. You have insulted my profession, sir.

BOB. But hold, I’ll explain.

DR. I’ll not hold. I am the victim of a hoax. Your wife is not sick at all.

BOB. (_Nettled._) Why didn’t you find that out at first, then?

_ENTER DICK._

DICK. Yes, the eye of science, solar plexus, vinegar and water, etc. (_laughs_). That’s great stuff. There’s nothing like science.

DR. You are offensive, sir. I’ll have nothing to say to _you_. (_To BOB._) Now, Mr. Slightly, your conduct is most inexcusable.

BOB. But I’m trying to explain that it was all a little joke between my wife and her sister. She was only pretending.

DR. (_Pompously._) And I am to be the victim of other people’s jokes. You shall pay for this, sir.

BOB. Send in your bill.

DR. Bill! Who cares for the paltry fee! My professional feelings have been outraged. The profession is not to be trifled with. Mr. Slightly, I’ve a mind to sue you for damages.

BOB. A fig for your dignity!

MRS. S. Oh, Robert!

DICK. Let him sue. Get me on the jury.

DR. (_Taking up pill bag angrily._) I shall consult my attorney at once.

BOB. Save the trouble and the fee! Let lawyers alone! Make your bill as large as you please. I prefer to be plucked by one man rather than by two. Your professional dignity will at least insure _silence_.

DR. (_Growling._) Humph! _My_ feelings are nothing! (_To MRS. N._) Madam, let me say to you that you are a meddling old fool!

MRS. N. Dr. Gagg, while ye’re at it say there’s a pair of us. Bob Slightly may pull the wool over your eyes, but he can’t fool me. Didn’t I see champagne bottles, and didn’t I see her stagger, an’ didn’t—

MRS. S. Mrs. Neverdun, this is too much—

BOB. Easy my dear! (_Restrains her._)

ALICE. (_To DICK._) Oh, Mr. Plyer, can’t you do something?

DICK. (_Bowing politely._) I’ll try. (_Steps forward to MRS. N., good humoredly._) Mrs. Neverdun, let me say a word. I’ve always maintained that you can set a better table any day than Mrs. Hartley.

MRS. N. Well, I should say!

DICK. Now, when I stand up for people I want them to stand up for me.

MRS. N. Them’s my principles!

DICK. Now, I can clear this matter up in just a minute. Miss Alice, bring in those bottles and glasses. (_Alice goes L._) We’ll clear up this mystery in short order. I guess I’ve seen enough of champagne to know it when I see it.

MRS. N. Dear me suz, I reckon nobody’ll deny that.

_RE-ENTER ALICE with bottles._

DICK. (_Takes bottle pours out liquid._) Now this is _only cold tea_. Smell it, Dr. Gagg, smell it, Mrs. Neverdun. (_They smell._) Look! there’s a tea leaf in it. If any body wants to smell the table do so.

MRS. N. Well I vum!

BOB. (_To MRS. S._) Dick’s a trump!

DICK. Now mum’s the word all round. Just a little joke of the ladies.

MRS. N. Good land, I aint a tellin’ anything!

DICK. It must be quits, is mum the word?

BOB. My dear, what a lesson, I’ll never touch another drop.

MRS. S. Oh, you dear Bob. (_Puts arm in his._)

DICK. Mrs. Neverdun, I still stick up for your table. (_Dress stage, DR. angry, R., MRS. N., DICK down C., ALICE L., MR. and MRS. S. arm in arm by table._)

MRS. N. I reckon you will. It’s the best in town.

DICK. I am going to Mrs. Hartley’s to dinner next Wednesday, and—

MRS. N. Land o’ Goshen! Then jist come to my house Thursday an’ I’ll show ye a dinner ’at’ll be a dinner. What do I care for Mrs. Hartley an’ her kerridge an’ dimons an’ fiddle faddle—

QUICK CURTAIN, _while MRS. N. is talking._

A FIRST-CLASS HOTEL

A FARCE

BY T. S. DENISON

_Also the Novels,
The Man Behind, An Iron Crown, etc._

CHICAGO:
T. S. DENISON, PUBLISHER,
163 RANDOLPH STREET.

A FIRST-CLASS HOTEL.

CHARACTERS.

LANDLORD.
BULGER, a drummer.
LEGGATT, a literary man.
SCHNELL, of the firm of Schnell & Augenblick.

_Time of playing, twenty minutes._

PROPERTIES.

Pistol, valise, cane, pipe, book, empty bottles, box of pills, candles in candlesticks, crash bag.

STAGE DIRECTIONS.

NOTE—The rapid action in this play requires careful rehearsal and strict attention to cues. In many cases the least drag will spoil the effect. The boy who does the caterwauling must be always ready the instant he gets his cue from the prompter. He must be able to produce the effect of _two_ cats and should make the audience hear distinctly.

A FIRST CLASS HOTEL.

SCENE—_Bed room, two cots, one up R. C. by flat, other by wall,
down L.; table near head of last, with books, pistol, pipe,
etc.; wash-stand against flat, L. C.; window in flat, L.; (or
a door anywhere at L. can be made to serve for make-believe
window by hanging a curtain.) As curtain rises, LEGGATT in
bed, apparently asleep, vest hanging on chair at head of bed,
pantaloons and coat on wall._

_ENTER LANDLORD and BULGER, R., LANDLORD carrying candle and BULGER’S valise. Lights low._

LANDLORD. This is the very best I can do, Mr. Bulger.

BULGER. Hang it all, I believe I’ll go over to the Eagle.

LAND. Hist! (_Looks toward LEGGATT._) You’ll wake him. No use to go to the Eagle. All full there. It’s County Fair, you know.

BULGER. Hang the fair! Landlord, this is no way to treat an old customer. This is a one-horse town anyway.

LAND. (_In low voice._) Very sorry, Mr. Bulger, but I didn’t make the town. It’s the best I can do. (_Looks toward LEGGATT._) Mr. Leggatt’s a very nice quiet gentleman. (_Confidentially._) Why, he’s a littery man!

BULGER. Confound literature! It aint in it with trade.

LAND. Quite right, but it’s got to be humored same as other things. He’s as quiet as a lamb if you don’t wake him.

BULGER. (_Suspiciously._) Hum! And if he wakes?

LAND. He’s kind o’ restless. He may walk the floor.

BULGER. (_Growling._) Indeed! Let him try it.

LAND. (_Hand on B.’S arm._) Quiet now. You may wake him. Good night, sir. (_Leaves candle on stand. Exit R. softly._)

BULGER. (_Hangs coat on rack, goes to closet door, looks in._) What’s this? A two by three closet. (_Sits and takes off boots._) I’ll put my things in the closet, though I don’t suppose this one-horse town can afford even a burglar. I’ll strike this town from my list. Such a snide hotel isn’t to be found this side the Mississippi river. (_Goes in closet. LEG. turns in bed and mutters in his sleep. Caterwauling in alley. Boy outside up L. does this._)

_RE-ENTER BULGER, in pajama or colored night robe. Examines sheets._

BULGER. Damp, as usual! I’ll catch my death of cold. I always get a cold in this town. The place is so slow, that’s the only thing people can catch. (_Rings bell by door R._) I’ll have the sheets changed, if I have to rouse every chambermaid in the house. (_Sits and opens valise._) I’ll take a liver pill while I think of it. Always have to take a liver pill in this town. It’s so slow that a man’s liver stops business. I am catching cold already. If I sneeze I’ll wake him. (_Business of suppressing sneeze._) There’s a draft somewhere. (_Tip-toes to window. LEGGATT turns and mutters in his sleep. B. stops._) I’ll wake his literary nibbs, sure. (_Tries window._) Wide open and stuck fast; windows always stick in this town. When they are up they stay up, when they are down they stay down. And that old hay-seed actually calls this a first-class hotel. He amuses me. (_Sets candle on chair._) Confound that bell. (_Pushes it again several times._) I guess I’ll smoke while I am waiting. (_Goes to get pipe out of coat pocket._) Where’s that pipe? (_Pulls coat with impatience, rack comes down with a clatter and coat swings round and knocks candle to floor, putting it out. B. darts to his bed and gets in._)

LEGGATT. (_Rising to sitting posture._) What’s that? Who’s there? Heh? A burglar! I’ll shoot, you rascal! (_Attempts to pull out drawer of his table to find pistol. Drawer sticks and his books and everything go clatter to floor._)

BULGER. (_Alarmed._) Don’t shoot! Don’t! It’s only me!

LEGGATT. (_Excited_) Who’s me? (_Feeling for the matches._) Blow it, where’s that infernal candle? I’ll have to get up.

BULGER. Don’t get up! It’s all an accident.

LEGGATT. Who the deuce are you, anyway?

BULGER. (_Strikes match._) I’m a guest of this beastly hotel, if its victims may be called by so genteel a term as guest.

LEGGATT. (_Sitting up._) A guest! I don’t like that.

BULGER. (_Nettled._) Neither do I.

LEGGATT. You’ve disturbed me and now I’ll have a night of it.

BULGER. I’m very sorry indeed!

LEGGATT. So am I.

BULGER. (_With surprise._) Sir, I apologized.

LEGGATT. Confound your apology! I was sound asleep.

BULGER. You _are_ a nice roommate. The landlord was right when he said you were.

LEGGATT. I beg your pardon, stranger. I wasn’t quite polite.

BULGER. Don’t mention it. My name is Bulger.

LEGGATT. And mine is Leggatt. (_B. crosses and they shake._)

BULGER. I’m very sorry I disturbed you. I had just rung the bell and was waiting.

LEGGATT. That bell hasn’t been connected with the office for a year.

BULGER. Oh, what a hotel!

LEGGATT. When I want anything I just throw a pop bottle down to the right. (_Motions._) It’ll break at the office door and rouse the landlord.

BULGER. By George! It takes a literary man, after all, for ideas.

LEGGATT. You’ll find some empty pop bottles in the closet. I keep them for that purpose—and the cats.

BULGER. (_Gets bottle._) I’ll try it. Did you say to the right?

LEGGATT. Yes, you can see the glass door if you look out. Hit the pavement so the bottle will crash. (_BULGER throws out of window, tremendous crash._)

BULGER. What a crash for one bottle. I guess that will fetch him.

LEGGATT. Now you _have_ done it.

BULGER. Done what?

LEGGATT. You’ve broken the glass of the hot bed and the tomato plants will all freeze. You threw the wrong way.

BULGER. You said to the right.

LEGGATT. I meant to _my_ right.

BULGER. (_Provoked._) Well, I’ll be everlastingly—

LEGGATT. Hold on, Mr. Bulger, it isn’t worth swearing about. It’s of no consequence. We shall have to wait a month longer for tomatoes, that’s all.

BULGER. I’m very sorry, Mr. Leggatt. I’ll turn in now and risk the damp sheets. I hope you will sleep. (_Gets in bed._)

LEGGATT. But I won’t. I’m in for a night of it.

BULGER. What is the cause of your insomnia?

LEGGATT. My book!

BULGER. Keep away from the races, why don’t you?

LEGGATT. I don’t mean that kind of a book. It is the great novel I am writing. It is killing me.

BULGER. (_Blows out his candle._) Ah! When are you going to die?

LEGGATT. (_Testily._) Die! I’m not going to die.

BULGER. (_Sleepily._) You’ll make a long job of it in this town, it’s so slow.

LEGGATT. But I’m not here for that purpose, I say. What is your line, by the way?

BULGER. (_Murmurs._) Line—cheapest way—I’ll ship your goods by Blue Line, same as before.

LEGGATT. Blue Line! Are you drunk? (_Pause._) Hang it he’s asleep. I wish I could go to sleep like that. I envy a drummer. (_Blows out candle, lies down and covers up; caterwauling outside._) That infernal cat again! (_Turns over with nervous motion of sleepless man and settles down. All still for say 15 seconds. B. begins to snore loudly. LEGGATT sits up again, angrily._) That settles it! I shant sleep a wink to-night. I’ll read, I guess. (_Lights candle._) Where is that book? (_Dextrously fishes book toward him by means of a cane which stands at bedside, lays cane across table. Begins to read—any book—gets interested, makes comments._) This book is simply drivel, such character drawing. There are no great novelists anymore except myself and Tolstoi. (_Reads paragraph._) That fellow has a wretched style. His cacophony is terrible. The true test of good writing is to read it aloud. (_Reads aloud. B. rolls over as if about to wake._) All stuff, the poorest kind of slush. I can’t stand any more of that. (_Throws book on table and accidentally knocks cane on floor with a rattle._)

BULGER. (_Starts up and sits in bed._) What was that? Heh? (_No reply._) Leggatt?

LEGGATT. Only my cane, sir. I’m very sorry.

BULGER. So am I.

LEGGATT. Ah, then we agree. Will you join me in a pipe since you are awake?

BULGER. A pipe at midnight! Well, you are cool!

LEGGATT. No, I’m not. I am on the contrary slightly feverish.

BULGER. Your proposition is cool enough. Smoke at this hour!

LEGGATT. I find it soothing. I cultivate repose of mind. It isn’t what we are, you know, in this world but how we like the situation. To like what we can’t mend is the true philosophy.

BULGER. Philosophy be blowed! This is a situation that I don’t like.

LEGGATT. I can’t say that I actually enjoy it but since—(_Caterwauling outside._)

BULGER. (_Gets up angrily._) Oh those infernal cats. I’d like to murder every cat in creation.

LEGGATT. Kindly throw a pop bottle. Straight ahead this time over the shed.

BULGER. (_Snorting._) Throw it yourself.

LEGGATT. (_Coolly._) It was only a suggestion to be acted on or not at your discretion.

BULGER. I’d as soon have a room over a boiler shop as in this infernal little hotel. First-class—oh, what a liar this landlord is.

LEGGATT. My dear sir, your attitude toward Boniface is hardly justifiable. Landlords indulge in hyperbole.

BULGER. Hyperbole! What is that?

LEGGATT. It is the faculty of not letting a statement lack strength.

BULGER. Well, I must say this landlord’s statements are very robust.

LEGGATT. Neatly put, Bulger. I believe you cultivate literature yourself. You should at any rate. Literature—

BULGER. (_Walking floor._) Literature be d—d.

LEGGATT. My dear sir, you wont sleep at all if you go on at that rate. Since you decline to join me in a pipe let me read a chapter of Squibbs’ last novel to you; that’ll do the business.

BULGER. (_Pausing in front of L.’S cot._) Read Squibbs to me! At midnight, in a strange hotel! Preposterous!

LEGGATT. He is very soothing.

BULGER. (_Emphatically._) I wont have it (_gets in bed_).

LEGGATT. I’m very sorry. I’ll have to read all to myself.

BULGER. (_Sitting up._) Are you going to read?

LEGGATT. I am.

BULGER. And keep that candle burning?

LEGGATT. Certainly! I don’t read in the dark. I haven’t cat’s eyes.

BULGER. Really, I say—do you know that I have a call for the three o’clock train?

LEGGATT. Don’t worry about it, Bulger. I shall be awake and I’ll call you promptly. Will 2:45 be about right?

BULGER. (_Jumps up._) That man is crazy. I’ll never get a wink of sleep here. (_Seizes blanket._) There’s a sofa in the hall, I’ll try that. Next time I come to this town I’ll stop at the roundhouse for a quiet place. (_Runs out R. with candle and blanket._)

LEGGATT. I am disappointed in him. I thought his nerves were sound. He’ll break down if he travels long. He’ll catch cold in the hallway, I’m afraid. (_Lays down book. Pause._) My sleepy spell has come on. I didn’t expect it till four o’clock. I believe I shall not pass a white night, as the French say, after all. (_Lies down and goes to sleep. Pause 15 seconds._)

_ENTER LANDLORD, tiptoe, R._

LAND. (_Looks at B.’S bed, then at L.’S._) Bulger is a strange man. Now, why did he leave his bed and take that sofa in the hall? He’s the hardest customer to please that comes this way. Doesn’t like cats, finicky about drafts, always sends his steak back, objects to two in a room. I s’pose two in a bed ’ud set ’im crazy. There aint a steadier, nicer man in the house than Mr. Leggatt. Where shall I put that Dutchman? The sofa was the last thing. (_Scratches head._) Why, here, of course. I’ll just make up the bed! (_Hastily makes up bed._) There, he’ll not notice it has been slept in. (_Caterwauling outside._)

_Exit R. and RE-ENTER with SCHNELL._

LAND. Quietly! There’s a man asleep there.

SCHNELL. Oh, dis vas a touble room alretty?

LAND. Yes.

SCHNELL. (_Looking round._) Mit single petts. Lantlort, vas dot man safe?

LAND. Perfectly safe.

SCHNELL. Vel, I mean vas I safe? I know he was safe, alretty.

LAND. Why, he’s the peacefulest man in the town. (_Impressively._) He’s a littery chap.

SCHNELL. (_Puzzled._) Littery man! Vat was dot?

LAND. He writes books.

SCHNELL. Oh, ya, a pookkeeper.

LAND. No, he writes for the magazines.

SCHNELL. (_Still puzzled, scratches head._) Mackaseens! Ya, powter mackaseens. Ya, ya, dot bin all right. I kess, he wont plow up.

LAND. (_Ready to go._) Your name is Schnell, I believe.

SCHNELL. Ya! Gus Schnell, of Schnell oont Augenblick.

LAND. Line sauerkraut?

SCHNELL. Sauerkraut oont weinerwurst.

LAND. Any call?

SCHNELL. Ya, by de Cherman saloons.

LAND. I mean shall I call you in the morning?

SCHNELL. Yoost leaf me alone till I shleeps out. (_Exit LANDLORD R._)

SCHNELL. (_Taking off shoes._) Dot man was a goot shleeper, alretty. I hope he ton’t shnore sometimes. Dot man shleep like one little papy. (_Takes off coat, feels bed._) Dunder! dot pett vas warm alretty. Dere moost pe a furnace oonter dot pett. (_Looks, feels._) I feels vint. Dot was strange, der room colt, mit vint plowin, oont der pett varm. Dere vas no planket py dot pett. Gott in himmel! vy vas dot pet varm! meppe dot wasn’t a mystery. I yoost shleep in my clodings, I take no shances mit dot preeze plowin. (_Gets in bed._) Ach, I forcot to put dot candle out. I plieve I can reach him. (_Reaches out toward candle in chair and losing balance falls out of bed with a crash, extinguishing candle and overturning chair._)

LEGGATT. (_Starting._) What’s that? Where’s my pistol?

SCHNELL. Gott in himmel, ton’t shoot.

LEGGATT. (_Crossly._) Well, what ails you now?

SCHNELL. Nodings. I yoost fell out py de pett.

LEGGATT. (_Half awake._) You have disturbed me again! Why in thunder can’t you go to sleep?

SCHNELL. (_Angry._) Vel, vy tont you gif me some dime alretty? I yoost cot in mine pett, two tree minutes foreby. (_Gets in bed._)

LEGGATT. (_Starting up, wide awake._) That’s a strange voice. Bulger—(_Pause._) Bulger—Great heavens! has Bulger been murdered? (_Tries to strike matches, several go out._) This comes of putting strangers in the same room. What ails the infernal matches! (_Lights candle; SCHNELL is all covered up except his face, LEG. peers at him for a moment._) That isn’t Bulger. Where can Bulger be! That’s a burglar, I’ll bet. (_Gets pistol quietly from drawer, sitting up in bed._) I’ll have a crack at him if he resists. (_Sharply to SCHNELL._) Hello there, you!

SCHNELL. Vas?

LEGGATT. A Dutchman! Heh, you fellow! Sit up or I’ll shoot.

SCHNELL. (_Bounding out of bed and badly scared._) Mine Gott, meester ton’t shoot! Vat in himmel you want alretty yet?

LEGGATT. Who are you? Where is Bulger?

SCHNELL. Pulcher! I ton’t know Pulcher. Gott in himmel, put away dot pistol down.

LEGGATT. Who are you?

SCHNELL. Put dot bistol town. It goes off meppe.

LEGGATT. What are you doing here?

SCHNELL. Shleeping.

LEGGATT. Well, why in the dickens don’t you sleep then? Another man in my room! The landlord is drunk again. He’ll have the whole town in here before morning. (_SCHNELL standing middle of room._) Why don’t you go to bed?

SCHNELL. Ya, I coes right away. (_Pause._) Mine frent.

LEGGATT. Well?

SCHNELL. Dot lantlort sait you vas a beaceful chentleman. I vas beaceful too oont I vants no more misdakes apout purglars oont bistols. My name vas _Schnell_, of Schnell oont Augenblick, wholesalers mit sauerkraut. Dat’s my cart. (_Gives LEGGATT card._)

LEGGATT. (_Throws card away._) Confound it man, will you go to bed?

SCHNELL. Ya! Ya! (_Gets into bed._) He vas not a pit sociable.

LEGGATT. And look here, Mr. Wagonblock—

SCHNELL. Nine, Schnell! of te firm—

LEGGATT. Well, Snell then; you’d better keep pretty quiet. If this racket continues much longer I’ll miss my four o’clock sleeping spell. Now I _wont_ be disturbed. (_Lies down._)

SCHNELL. Ya! Ya! (_Pause fifteen seconds, then loud caterwauling outside, ad lib._) Oh, dem cats! (_Softly._) I was afraid of dot beaceful littery chap. He might shoot if he hears dem cats. (_Rolls over._) Vell, I ton’t schleep, dot’s sure, alretty. (_Glances at L.’S cot._) Dot man was tangerous. I yoost dries to ket a nap by der office. (_Rises, softly stealing toward door, R., LEG. rolls over. SCHNELL, alarmed, darts out._)

LEGGATT. (_Sleepily yawns._) More noise, somewhere, and I was just going—(_settles down and drops to sleep, short loud caterwauling, then all quiet._)

_BULGER steals in R. with candle._

BULGER. This night will be worse on me than a week’s sickness. I’ll have to take another liver pill. (_Takes pill._) If I had a keg of powder under this old hotel I’d blow it to Kingdom-come, landlord, cats and all. But I mustn’t wake that author or he’ll want to read Squibbs’ novel to me. He’s had a good sleep. I’ve caught cold in that hall. It was like the Cave of the Winds. (_Feels bed. Surprised._) Why, that bed is warm yet. That’s very strange! The room is as cold as a barn. There’s no blanket here either. I left that in the hall. If I close that window may be I can get along. I’ll wake everybody in the house probably. (_Goes softly to window, tugs at it, steals glance at LEGGATT, gives a quick tug, down comes window on the run and breaks a pane of glass._)

LEGGATT. (_Starting up, sitting posture._) What’s that? Who’s there? (_BULGER crawls behind the curtains._) Hey there! Say! (_Pause._) It’s that Dutchman again! He’s worse than Bulger was. Fallen out of that rickety old bed again, I suppose. If he’d only break his neck! (_Scratching matches, lights candle._) Why, he isn’t there. Now, that’s odd! Both gone! A good riddance. I may catch my four o’clock turn yet. (_Starts._) My watch! I’ll bet that Dutchman was a thief in disguise. (_Feels in vest pocket._) No, it is there all right. I have nothing else to steal. I’m an author. He wouldn’t take Squibbs’ novel. No, nobody would run away with Squibbs. (_Looks at watch again._) 2:45! It’s just time for Bulger’s train. (_B. behind curtain_, “Confound it.”) What’s that? I surely heard a voice. Some one _is_ concealed somewhere. I’ll call the landlord. No bell. I’ll catch cold if I get up to throw a pop bottle. I guess I’ll just fire the pistol. (_B. in alarm dodges closer to wall. Pistol shot._) There! I guess that’ll fetch him. I’ll give him a piece of my mind. When I took this room I gave him the privilege of putting in a quiet party occasionally. Quiet! This has been a delightfully quiet night.

_ENTER LANDLORD, R., excitedly followed by SCHNELL._

LAND. Great heavens! Where was that shot?

SCHNELL. Himmel! He sound like a cannon. I joomp out o’ my schleep ten feet alretty.

LAND. (_Excitedly._) Where was it? The house will be in an uproar. Leggatt, why don’t you speak?

LEGGATT. (_Coolly._) I _will_ speak. Landlord, it is my deliberate opinion that you keep the worst hotel that I ever saw.

LAND. That’s a slander, strictly first-class! But the shot?

LEGGATT. In the absence of a bell the shot was simply to call you.

LAND. (_Angrily._) Why, you don’t mean to say—

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Lively plays for live peopleChapter IX: Act III: SCENE: Club rooms as before. Time, next day after Act II (1)

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