Don't blush. I was young myself, once."

Mr. Mix fought down his anger. "You're very much of a joker, Henry. It
seems to run in the family. Your uncle--"

"Yes, and Aunt Mirabelle, too."

"What?"

"Oh, yes," said Henry. "Aunt Mirabelle's a joker, too. She advised me
not to run the Orpheum in the first place; she'd rather have had me
trade it and go into something more respectable, and profitable.
Doesn't that strike you as funny? It does me."

Mentally, Mr. Mix bit his lip, but outwardly he was ministerial. "I'm
afraid you're too subtle for me."

"I was afraid of that myself."

"Isn't business good?" His voice was solicitous.

Henry was reminded of what Judge Barklay had twice expressed, and for
a casual experiment, he tried to plumb the depths of Mr. Mix's
interest.

"Oh, with a few new schemes I've got, I guess I'll clean up eleven or
twelve thousand this year."

Mr. Mix shook his head. "As much as that?"

Henry inquired of himself why, to accompany a question which was
apparently one of mere rhetorical purport, Mr. Mix should have shaken
his head. The action had been positive, rather than interrogative.

"Easy," said Henry. "Come in next week, and see how we're going to
turn 'em away. I've got a new pianist; you'll want to hear him. He
looks like a Sealyhan terrier, but he's got a repertoire like a
catalogue of phonograph records. I dare the audience to name anything
he can't play right off the bat--songs, opera, Gregorian chants,
sonatas, jazz--and if he can't play it, the person that asked for it
gets a free ticket."

"So--to use a colloquialism--you're going very strong?"

"To use another colloquialism," said Henry, "we fairly reek with
prosperity, and we're going to double our business. That is, unless
you Leaguers stop all forms of amusement but tit-tat-toe and
puss-in-the-corner."

Mr. Mix smiled feebly. "One expects to be rallied for one's
convictions."

Henry nodded, engagingly. "I certainly got rallied enough for mine.
That justice of the peace rallied me for twenty-five to start with,
and followed it up with twenty more.... But if you want my opinion,
Mr. Mix, you'll lay off trying to promote civic integrity with a
meat-ax. All you did with that Sunday row was to take a lot of money
away from the picture houses, and give it to the trolley company and
the White City--white when it was painted. And if you don't behave, I
won't vote for you next election."

Mr. Mix ignored the threat.