Brandes, imperturbable, rolled his cigar into the corner of his mouth
and screwed his greenish eyes to narrow slits.
"You got our wire, Doc?"
"Why am I here if I didn't!"
"Sure. Have an easy passage?"
Doc Curfoot's foxy visage still wore traces of the greenish pallor; he
looked pityingly at Brandes--self-pityingly: "Say, Eddie, that was the worst I ever seen. A freight boat, too. God!
I was that sick I hoped she'd turn turtle! And nab it from me; if you
hadn't wired me S O S, I'd have waited over for the steamer train and
the regular boat!"
"Well, it's S O S all right, Doc. I got a cable from Quint this
morning saying our place in Paris is ready, and we're to be there and
open up tonight----"
"What place?" demanded Curfoot.
"Sure, I forgot. You don't know anything yet, do you?"
"Eddie," interrupted Stull, "let me do the talking this time, if
you please."
And, to Curfoot: "Listen, Doc. We was up against it. You heard. Every little thing has
went wrong since Eddie done what he done--every damn thing! Look
what's happened since Maxy Venem got sore and he and Minna started out
to get him! Morris Stein takes away the Silhouette Theatre from us and
we can't get no time for 'Lilith' on Broadway. We go on the road and
bust. All our Saratoga winnings goes, also what we got invested with
Parson Smawley when the bulls pulled Quint's----!"
"Ah, f'r the lov' o' Mike!" began Brandes. "Can that stuff!"
"All right, Eddie. I'm tellin' Doc, that's all. I ain't aiming to be
no crape-hanger; I only want you both to listen to me this time. If
you'd listened to me before, we'd have been in Saratoga today in our
own machines. But no; you done what you done--God! Did anyone ever
hear of such a thing!--taking chances with that little rube from
Brookhollow--that freckled-faced mill-hand--that yap-skirt! And Minna
and Max having you watched all the time! You big boob! No--don't
interrupt! Listen to me! Where are you now? You had good money; you
had a theaytre, you had backing! Quint was doing elegant; Doc and
Parson and you and me had it all our way and comin' faster every day.
Wait, I tell you! This ain't a autopsy. This is business. I'm tellin'
you two guys all this becuz I want you to realise that what Eddie done
was against my advice. Come on, now; wasn't it?"
"It sure was," admitted Curfoot, removing his cigar from his lean,
pointed visage of a greyhound, and squinting thoughtfully at the smoke
eddying in the draught from the open window.
"Am I right, Eddie?" demanded Stull, fixing his black, smeary eyes on
Brandes.
"Well, go on," returned the latter between thin lips that scarcely
moved.