O. Henry Memorial Award Prize Stories of 1921 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 467 pages of information about O. Henry Memorial Award Prize Stories of 1921.

O. Henry Memorial Award Prize Stories of 1921 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 467 pages of information about O. Henry Memorial Award Prize Stories of 1921.
somethin’.  She didn’t put no pep into it, if you know what I mean.  An’ vodvil’s gotta be all pep.  Then, too, her an’ that partner of hers jawin’ all the time somethin’ fierce.  I could hear him raggin’ her that af’noon, an’ me standin’ in the wings, an’ they slipped up on some of their tricks terrible, an’ the audience laughed.  But not with ’em, at ’em, y’ un’erstan’!  Well, so the ac’ was a fros’, an’ they was cancelled.”

“Cancelled?”

“Fired, I guess you’d call it.  They was to play again that night an’ then move on, see?”

“Oh, yes.”

“An’ they didn’t have no bookin’ ahead.  Florette come an’ talked to me again, an’ she says again she wanted Freddy to be happy, an’ git a better start’n she’d had an’ all.  ‘An,’ Bert,’ she says, ’if anything ev’ happens to me, you go an’ give ‘um the money for Freddy,’ she says.”

“Poor thing!  Perhaps she had a premonition of her death,” murmured Miss Nellie.

Bert gave her a queer look.

“Yeah—­yes, ma’am, p’raps so.  I was watchin’ her from the wings that night,” he went on.  “The ac’ was almos’ over, an’ I couldn’t see nothin’ wrong.  Howard had run off an’ Florette was standin’ up on the trapeze kissin’ her ban’s like she always done at the finish.  But all of a sudden she sort of trem’led an’ turned ha’f way roun’ like she couldn’t make up her min’ what to do, an’ los’ her balance, an’ caught holt of a rope—­an’ let go—­an’ fell.”

Miss Nellie covered her face with her hands.  Miss Eva turned away to the window.

“She was dead w’en I got to her,” said Bert.

“Be careful!” said Miss Eva sharply.  “The child is coming in.”

“Freddy wasn’t asleep at all,” said Mary, opening the door.  “He was just playing a game, but he won’t tell me——­Oh, I beg your pardon!  I didn’t know any one was here.”

Freddy had stopped round-eyed, open-mouthed with incredulous delight.

“Bert!” he gasped.  “The son of a gun!”

“Freddy!” cried the Misses Blair.

But Bert held out his arms and Freddy ran into them.

“Gee, Bert, I’m glad to see ya!” rejoiced Freddy.

“Me, too, kid, glad to see you!  How’s the boy, huh?  Gettin’ educated, huh?  Swell school, ain’t it?” babbled Bert, fighting for time.

“Aw, it’s all right, I guess,” Freddy replied listlessly, glancing at the Misses Blair.  Then turning again with eager interest to Bert, “But say, Bert, what in the hell a——­I mean what-ta you doin’ here?”

“Why—­ah—­ah—­jus’ stoppin’ by to say howdy, see, an’——­”

“Playin’in N’Yawk?”

“No.”

“Jus’come in?”

“Yeah.”

Freddy drew his breath in quickly.

“Say, Bert, you—­you ain’t seen Florette anywheres?”

“Why, ye-yeah.”

“Where is she, Bert?”

There was a deathly hush.

Then Miss Eva motioned to Miss Nellie and said, “If you will excuse us, Mr. Brannigan, we have some arrangements to make about the concert to-night.  Madame d’Avala is to sing in the school auditorium, a benefit performance,” and she went out, followed by her sister and niece.

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O. Henry Memorial Award Prize Stories of 1921 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.