Along about ten in the evening Bud wanted to keep the seven-o'clock-dinner date with the heiresses, but the rest of the gang were too busy. We blew into one of those concert halls over on Eighth Avenue where they have sand on the floor, red-white-and-blue tissue paper around the edge of the ceiling, no programme because it costs too much, and a bum piano for an orchestra. The Professor wore no coat, but he certainly knew his way around the ivories. A sad-looking, thin guy, with a four days' growth and a large near-diamond stud, came out and announced that the next turn was the feature of the evening--the winsome Sisters Montclair, who would sing a lovely waltz ballad written expressly for them, entitled, "The Check Was Forged--He Had Went Too Far." Johnny Black set 'em up to the Professor right in the middle of the song, and the Professor bowed his regards, blew the froth off his beer, drank it, and lit a cigarette without losing a note. Immediately after the act the Professor presented Miss Alice Montclair of the famous "Sisters Montclair." Barring the fact that Miss Montclair had a mouth like a cave, she wasn't a bad looker. Old K. C. gave what was intended for a tender, loving look, and asked her if he could call her Alice; then without waiting for an answer, passed into a Rip Van Winkle that looked good for a hundred years.
We told the lady it was up to her, and she said she would take a Brandy and soda. Brandy and soda being fifty a throw and beer five a copy, we told her to behave, and ordered the waiter to back her up a tub of suds, Texas size. I noticed Miss Montclair's handkerchief was marked "Mary Burke." Probably some mistake on the part of the laundry. Careless laundry! Alice told us what lovely people her folks were; she said her father was mayor of his town, and if we only knew her real name it would surprise us all. Johnny Black started to guess it, but was interrupted by having to settle for the last round His Chickens had ordered. It seems His Chickens would madly order, and then when the waiter would kind of hang around for the price, he would do the earnest conversation gag until some one else had made good. Alice, who was now getting a trifle weary, went on to tell us that the girl who appeared with her was not her sister, and that the only reason she stood for her at all was because she had once been good to her when she was sick.
All of a sudden old K. C., who had been leaning over farther and farther, did a Brodie out of his chair and lit on his eye. We dug him out of the sand and put him back where he belonged, and he immediately departed into another dreamless but jumpy slumber. At this juncture somebody sold **** six tickets at a dollar per for a ball that had been given over a month ago by the Varnish Makers'
Union, K. of L., No. 229. Upon learning that he had been bunked, **** became very dignified, and said he would remember the fellow perfectly, and that the day would come when they would be brought face to face.
