Part 3

And while my mind wandered this little bit, and I was thinking how funny it felt to be back in the chorus--do you get me?--I happened to take a look at the houses facing the park. And--believe you me--I got a jolt, for there we was standing right opposite Ruby Rosalie's house!

Well, I was that astonished to realize it you could of knocked me over with a sudden noise! Up to then I had been so interested in the other ladies and what they was doing I hadn't even noticed it.

And then, before I could really commence to think what a awful thing it would be if Ruby was to look out of the window and see me standing there, and think I was just in some chorus, and maybe that nasty Von Hoffman with her, and the both of them laughing their fool heads off, the officer says "Ten-shun!" he says. And, of course, I tenshuned, because of me being anxious to get everything he said when it come to instruction, and get it right.

Well, he told us a lot of dope on one thing at a time after he had got us in line, with the tallest at the right hand, which was me. And he told us very simple and then made us do it; and no camouflage, because--believe you me--he could spot any lady which done it wrong quick as a flash.

I will say he didn't have a whole lot of trouble with me, partly on account of me having had similar work before, and also my feet taking to new things so easy. But it took me about ten minutes to see that my patent Oxfords, with the Looie heels, was never going to do for this work. Though I hate to say it, the other ladies sure did bother him a lot. They couldn't seem to mind quick enough. And he had a lot of trouble making them keep at attention.

Every time we'd be that way, just to show what I mean, the lady next to me would forget and powder her nose. Oh, that wasn't no new sight to me! I seen worse in my day until they get used to it. But did that officer get mad? He did!

"Whatter ye think ye're at?" he yells. "A pink tea? Cut that stuff now! Attention is attention and youse is standing at it," he says. "The worst crime youse can commit is move without permission."

And--believe you me--I sympathized with him, I did, little knowing what I was about to do next my ownself.

Alas, that in ladies obedience comes so much harder than following out a impulse! For the officer had no sooner uttered them words, and I agreed with him, than I went back on him something terrible.

It was this way: As I explained, we was drilling in the park, and not alone in the park but also opposite Ruby Roselle's house. Well, of course, we was drilling on a open piece of grass, but at one side of this here grass was fancy bushes; you know--hedges and what not. And me, being on the end of the line, was nearest them bushes.

Well, as the sergeant was speaking I seen something move under one of them bushes; and, as Heaven is my witness, there was that pro-German alligator which had bit Jim on the nose and started all my troubles. There he was, walking very slowly, gold-and-diamond collar and all, and by his lone self, with nobody to protect him!

Well, I never stopped to think or salute, or ask nothing of nobody. All I knew for the time was that that damn alligator had somehow got out on his own, and that this was the chance of a lifetime. So, without more ado, I fell right out of attention and rushed over and reached into the bushes and grabbed the alligator by the tail.

Well, the officer hollered something at me, I don't know what, and all the ladies commenced screaming. And was I scared of that alligator? I was! But I held him up by the tail, and it didn't take me two minutes to find out that he couldn't bite me that way; and then my scare was gone.

I felt so good about getting him I didn't even care much what was being said at me by the drill sergeant. I just stood there holding tight to the alligator's tail and grinning all over myself. But up come Miss Lieutenant, who had been watching our drill--the one which had signed me up--and she was as mad as a hornet, only having a awful time trying not to laugh.

"What's this?" she says, indignant.

Fortunately the alligator was in my left hand; so I saluted.

"Enemy alien alligator!" I says.

"Dismissed from the ranks!" she says. "And report to Sergeant Warner at Headquarters at five o'clock."

Gee, but that made me feel bad! But she wouldn't listen to no explanations at all, and there was nothing for me to do except walk off to where the limousine was waiting. And, in a way, I was glad, because suppose Ruby had of looked out and saw the alligator in my hand! I couldn't of got away with him.

As things went, I got him safe into the limousine. And--believe you me--I didn't dare set him down for a minute for fear of his trying to get even with me; and so I was obliged to hold him at arm's length until we got home, which it is a good thing that it wasn't very far.

Well, when we got home you ought to of seen the elevator boys get out of the way! I walked in holding on to the alligator; and once I got to the flat there was Ma sitting in the Looie-the-Head-Waiter drawing-room, reading a cook-book. When she seen what I had I must say that for once she acted kind of surprised.

Of course, she ain't usually surprised, not after her having twice seen sudden death in the center ring, and the circus went on just the same. But alligators coming in unexpected is rather out of the usual. So Ma marked her place at sauces for fish, and took off her glasses so's she could see good, and give me the kind of stare she used to hand out when I got dirt on my Sunday-school dress.

"Why, Mary Gilligan!" she says. "For the land's sakes, where did you get that?"

"Caught it on the wing!" I says, very sarcastic, on account of my arm being nearly broke. "Can you cook it for supper?" I says.

"Well," she says. "I guess I can. What is it? A mock turtle?"

"It's a pro-German alligator," I says. "And if you'll just kindly help me instead of standing there staring at it, we'll intern it some place so's I can leave my arm get a rest."

Well, we certainly had a fierce time finding something to put him in, owing to us not being able to agree about what kind of a place he belonged. Ma was all for the goldfish bowl, claiming it was his native element; and Musette, who come in, thought the canary cage was better. But, realizing he couldn't jump very high, I had them get a big hat-box, and set him in that.

"And now what are you going to do with him?" says Ma as we all stood 'round looking at him; and my two fool dogs barking their heads off on account of a mistaken idea they had that he was a new pet. "What are you going to do with him?" says Ma.

"Unless you cook him, I don't know," I says--"except for one thing: I'm going to take that gold-and-diamond collar offen that brute and sell it and give the money to the American Red Cross; and I'm going to do it now!"

Believe you me, I was mad at that alligator! And no wonder! Just look at all the trouble he made me! So I didn't waste any time getting action against him. First off, I persuaded Ma, who was real brave, to hold a ice pick down on his nose good and firm, so's he couldn't open his face. Then I managed, after a lot of trouble, to get that bejeweled sinful collar off his neck. And was it a swell collar? It was!

As soon as I had it off we just left that alligator interned in the hat-box and looked the collar over good. It was made all of a piece and the jewels were certainly wonderful. I know quite a lot about them, me and Ma always having invested that way when we had a little extra cash.

Well, as we was looking the stones over carefully, I happened to rub one which was close to the snap, sort of sideways, and right off something happened: That there collar parted--yes, sir; parted!--the lining from the outside, and in the place between the setting and the inside frame was a couple of thin slips of paper!

Well--believe you me--it didn't take me long to get the idea; not after having a father and a mother which had been in the circus and had to think quick, and me having been associated with dramatic stuff all my life--do you get me? You do!

What with that collar having come off a alligator which I was already convinced was a pro-German, and knowing Von Hoffman had give it to Ruby Roselle, and got her to sing Overseas in that nasty costume made out of the national colors, which should never be done, I seen everything clear. Von Hoffman had a German job of some kind!

And when I unfolded those papers and seen they was full of funny little marks like a stenographer makes and then can't read, I realized that I had happened in on it; and so will any intelligent public.

Well, was Ma and Musette full of questions? They was! But I didn't wait to answer none of them; for I realized, also, that it was almost five o'clock, and I was supposed to report at Headquarters for a bawling-out at that time. And, after me having broken the rules once, I had no wish to do it again so soon.

Well, I just grabbed up the collar and the papers, and a clean pair of gloves, as the alligator had completely ruined what I had, and, having on my hat, waited not to explain, but made a dash for the street. And by a big piece of luck there was the limousine, still standing outside on account of I having forgot to tell John to go. Well, I told him "Headquarters!" and off we started; and I got there just on the dot of five o'clock.

Well, Miss Lieutenant was there, and a Miss Sergeant--the one I was reporting to--and that frowzy-looking lady I have spoke of before, and several other ladies, still in their uniforms. And while I was explaining, in comes the captain, which she certainly is a smart woman. And they all listened while I reported and told the whole story about Ruby and me and Jim and Von Hoffman and the alligator. Then I saluted and handed over said collar and papers in evidence; and then the captain spoke up:

"This material, which is undoubtedly in a foreign code, will be of interest to the Secret Service," she says. "This Von Hoffman is probably one of those persons who are active in the obviously deliberate effort to cheapen and degrade the quality of our patriotism," she says; "for I have heard that is part of the German propaganda here."

"Private La Tour, in view of the unusual circumstances, you are excused for your action in leaving ranks without permission," she says; "but next time remember to get your salute recognized," she says--"even under extreme conditions."

Then she went on, and she says:

"I understand you have given your car," she says. "Some member in uniform will take this evidence downtown in Private La Tour's car," she says, "which we now accept for the service."

Then she walked into her office, which said Private on it, and closed the door; and I watched one of the ladies in uniform go away, with the collar and the papers, in my limousine.

And after she had went I got a terrible scare, for it come over me all of a sudden that I hadn't even a nickel change on me to buy car fare home!

Well, just as I was standing there wondering how I was going to hoof it after the trying day I had had, that frowzy lady comes up to me, real kind, like she could almost see what I was thinking of; and she says:

"May I take you home in my car, Miss La Tour?" she says. "I have seen you dance so often that I feel as though I knew you. I am Mrs. Pieter van Norden."

Just get that, will you, will you? Her that I had been modeling myself on for refinement for years! And--would you believe it?--on the way home she told me she had been trying to dance like me since the first time she seen me!

Well--believe you me--I felt so good over this, and over having got the goods on Von Hoffman, and about being excused for making that bad break at drill, and not getting fired out of the Automobile Service, that I only commenced feeling bad about Jim and me again after Mrs. Van Norden had left me at the door of my place, and I was going up in the elevator.

As I was letting myself in with my key I got so low in my mind again that I felt I would just die if Jim hadn't phoned; and I knew he hadn't, for I'd given up hope. Well, I opened the door and went in. And then I got another shock; for right in the middle of the drawing-room stood Jim.

Well, first off, I didn't know him on account of him being in khaki; but when he turned around I nearly died for sure! But I didn't actually die. What I done is nobody's business but mine and Jim's. But I will say it was a second lieutenant-of-aviation uniform; and they show powder on the shoulder something terrible.

And he had been studying for months; and that's where he was every afternoon, and not out with some blonde, and wouldn't tell me for fear he wouldn't get it!

And I'm going to dance alone at night until he comes back, and all day drive a truck or something to release a man. And that's the whole inside story of the split, which is now readily seen is not a fight at all, at least not yet for we got married at once.

So, only one thing more: Regarding that alligator, Ma decided he would be too hard to cook. So Jim took him to camp for a mascot, and by the time he got through there he learned to understand American--believe you me!

II

PRO BONEHEAD PUBLICO

I

AIN'T it remarkable the way the war has changed the way we look at a whole lot of things? Take wrist-watches for one. Before the military idea was going so strong on its present booking but a little while, wrist-watches had grabbed off a masculine standing for themselves, and six months before no real man would of been willingly found dead in one!

Then take newspapers! Oncet we used to look at them for news, and now we just look at them. It's kind of a nervous habit, I guess. And take simple little things like coal and sugar. Why once we paid no attention to them and now we look at them real respectful--when we see them. Which leads me on to say that the war has brought us to look at a great many things we never even seen before, not if they was right under our noses. That's how I come to see that letter from the W.S.S. Committee--and would to Heaven I had not, as the poet says. For although--believe you me--most of the mail order goods a person buys is pretty apt to be as rep. because why would a customer write again which had been stung once, and thrift stamps is no exception, it certainly will be a long time before I fall so easy for anything the postman slips me. Next time I'll recognize that his whistle is a note of warning to more than them which has unpaid bills, which I have not and so never listened for him.

Well, anyways, the time this little trouble maker reached my side, I had slipped into a simple little lounging suit of pink georgette pajamas, and was lying on the day-bed in a regular wallow of misery on account of wondering if Jim was dead on the gory fields of France, or was it only the censor--do you get me? I was laying there rubbing a little cold cream onto my nose and thinking how would it feel to be always able to do so without losing my husband's love, which, of course, would mean he had died at the front, when in comes Ma with a couple of letters. I give one shriek and sprung to my feet, like a regular small-time drama, and grabbed them off her, cold cream and all. And then slunk back upon the day-bed and despair when I seen they weren't from Jim. Ma stood there with her hands on her hips until she seen I wasn't going to break any bad news to her, when she left me in peace to read them. That is she meant to, but believe you me, it was far from it as Ma went into our all-paid-for gold furnished parlour and commenced playing on the pianola which Jim had give me for a souvenir before he sailed, and Ma, being sort of heavy and strong, after twenty-five years with a circus, she has a fierce touch.

Well, anyways, after she had got "Soft and Low" going strong with the loud pedal and no expression, I opened the first envelope. It was my copy of my new contract with Goldringer all signed and everything and calling for only twenty minutes of my first class A-1 parlour dancing act in his new musical show at the Springtime Garden entitled "Go To It" and which let all persons know that the party of the first part hereinafter called the manager was willing and able to pay Miss Marie La Tour, party of the second ditto, one thousand dollars a week. Which certainly was _some_ party to look foreward to and scarcely any work to speak of, a refined act like mine not calling for over three handsprings and some new steps, which is second nature to me and I generally make up a few every night for my own amusement same as some of those fellows which play the piano by hand--do you get me?

Well, anyways, when I had looked the contract over good and seen it really was, as I had before realized in the office, more than satisfactory, I salted it away in my toy safe which was nicely built into the mantel-piece for the greater convenience of burglars, and then I remembered the other envelope. All unsuspecting as a table d'hote guest, I opened the envelope, and then almost dropped dead.

It was from President Wilson!

Believe you me, I leaned up against the art-gray wall paper and prepared to faint after I had read the news. But instead of commencing, "I regret to inform you of the death in battle," or something like that, it started:

"THE WHITE HOUSE, "Washington, D. C.

"I earnestly appeal to every man, woman and child to pledge themselves to save constantly and to buy as regularly as possible the securities of the Government; and to do this as far as possible through membership in War Savings Societies.

"The man who buys War Savings Stamps transfers his purchasing power to the United States Government.

"May there be none unenlisted in the great volunteer army of production and saving here at home.

"WOODROW WILSON."

Woodrow Wilson! Signed--and addressed to _me!_ Of course it didn't exactly begin "Dear Miss La Tour" or anything like that, and he had signed it with a rubber stamp or something which I did not hold against him in the least, me realizing at once what a busy man he must be. But coming as it done instead of a death-notice which I had by this time fully expected after no letter for over a month, it got to me very strong. It made me feel all of a sudden that I was a pretty punk patriot lounging around in pink georgette pajamas which--believe you me--is no costume for war-work and felt like going right off and borrowing one of the gingham house-dresses which I have never been able to break Ma of, only, of course, it would of been too big and anyways what would I of done after I had it pinned around me? Which could be said of a whole lot of folks which were rushing into uniforms of their own inventing.

Well, anyways, after the first shock was over, I seen there was an enclosure with the President's letter. This was from some committee which had a big W.S.S. lable printed at the top and a piece out of the social register printed underneath, and was dated N. Y. It begun more personal.

"Dear Miss La Tour," it said. "As a woman so prominent in the theatrical world, we feel sure that you would be glad to take an active interest in the great Thrift movement which is now before the country. Will you not form a theatrical women's committee that will pledge the sale of twenty-five thousand dollars' worth of stamps on the first of the month? The first of every month will be observed as Thrift Stamp Day, and we will be glad to furnish you with all literature, stamps, etc., if you will notify headquarters of your willingness to do this work."

The letter was signed by some guy which it was impossible to read his name because he hadn't used no rubber stamp but did it by hand and had other things on his mind. But did I care? I did not! Believe you me, I had already decided to do like he asked, and why would I need to know his name when I wasn't going to write to him anyways, but to Mr. Wilson? Dancing as long as I have which is about fifteen years or since I could walk, pretty near, and not only professionally but drawing my own contracts from the time most sweet young things is thinking over their graduation dresses, I have learned one thing, if no other. Always do business with the boss. Refuse to talk to all office boys, get friendly with the lady stenographer, if there is one, but do all business with the one at the head--and no other! This motto has saved me no end of time which has been spent in healthy exercise under my own roof and Ma's eagle eye, which otherwise might have wore out the seats of outside-office chairs.

And so I concluded that I'd sit right down that minute and let Mr. Wilson know I was on the job. I knew I had some writing paper someplace and after I had took a lot of powder and chamois and old asperin tablets out of the desk I dug it up:--a box of handsome velour-finish tinted slightly pink, with envelopes to match. And I got hold of a pen and some ink which Musette, my maid, had overlooked, she being a great writer to her young man which is French and Gawd knows how fluent she writes him in it, only of course being born over there certainly makes a difference.

Well, anyways, I cleaned off the desk and rubbed the cream off my nose and hands and set down to write that letter. And--believe you me--it was some job. I guess I must of commenced a dozen times and tore them up with formal openings--do you get me? And then I realized that the box of pink tinted was getting sort of low and I had better waste not want not, and so determined to just be natural in what I wrote but not take up his time with too long a letter. So at last I threw in the clutch, gave myself a little gas, and we was off, to this effect.

"My dear Mr. Wilson:--

"Many thanks for yours of the 25th inst. Will at once get busy at helping to make the first of the month savings day instead of unpaid-bill day.

"Cordially, "MARIE LA TOUR."

This seemed refined and to the point, and although I was awful tempted to put a P.S. asking did they know anything about Jim, I left off on account of me not believing in asking personal favors of the Government just now, as the war office was probably medium busy and the Censor might answer first, at that. So I just sealed it up as it was, and about then Ma left off playing on my souvenir and came in with a pink satin boudoir cap down tight over her head. Ma just can't seem to get over the idea that boudoir caps at five dollars and up per each is a sort of de lux housework garment.

"I'm just going in the kitchen and beat up a few cakes for lunch," said Ma, and withdrew, leaving me to lick on three cents and shoot the letter fatefully and finally down the drop near the gilt-bird-cage elevator of our home-like little flat. I felt awfully relieved and chesty somehow when it was done and with her good news ringing in my ears. For Ma is certainly some cook, and she has it all over our chef, who--believe you me--knows she would never be missed if she went although Ma simply can't learn to stay out of the kitchen. And while she was busy with the butter and eggs and sugar and wheat flour, I was deciding to call a committee, because I knew that was the way you generally start raising twenty-five thousand dollars worth of anything, except a personal note.

Committee meetings is comparative strangers to me except the White Kittens Annual Ball, and a few benefit performances which last is usually for the benefit of those which are to be in it, they leaving aside all consideration of the benefit of the audience much less of the charity it is supposed to be for, and the main idea being how long each actor can hold the spotlight. You may have noticed how these benefit performances runs on for hours.