I backed off the stage, and he pulled something on my exit that got an awful laugh.

I didn’t care.  I was so delighted that Skinski was there that I nearly hugged Dodo.

And he gave them their money’s worth, all right.  He flashed a line of hot illusions that had them groggy in short order.

When the curtain finally fell Skinski was given an ovation, and when it was all over we backed into his dressing-room and sat looking at each other.

“That’s the last,” our star said, after a pause; “and it was a hot finish all right.”

“What do you mean?” I gasped.

“The syndicate has bought my gold mine in the Blue Hills,” he answered calmly.

“And you’re going to throw us after making a start like this?” Bunch almost sobbed.

“Throw nothing!” Skinski came back.  “Didn’t I tell you once before that I am for you two guys all the old while—­didn’t I, Dodey?”

“You betcher sweet!” she answered solemnly.

“Well, that still goes,” Skinski went on.  “I’ve sold out a half interest in my Blue Hill gold mine, and I’ve got the corn to show for it.”

So saying, he dug up a wad that a hound couldn’t leap over.

“Now, I’m going to pay you each $6,000 to cancel my contract,” Skinski added, after our eyes had feasted on his roll.

I looked at Bunch, and Bunch was stepping on his left foot to see if he was awake.

“No, by Hick!  I’ll make it seven thousand each,” Skinski chortled.  “You two guys put up your last dollar on me, and you didn’t know whether I was an ace or a polish.  I like you both, for you brought me good luck.  Tear up the contract and take $7,000 apiece, is it a go?”

“Just as you say, Skinski,” I answered nervously.  “Of course, if you want the tour to continue, why——­”

“Yes, of course,” Bunch chimed in; “if you want the tour to continue, why——­”

“Oh! pinkies!” said Skinski; “what do I want to go hugging one-night stands for when I have a hundred thousand booboos in the kick.  It’s the Parisian boulevards for us, and a canter on the Boy Bologna, eh, Dodey?”

“You betcher sweet!” she gurgled thirstily.

And so it came about that we destroyed the contract, pocketed our seven thousand each, and bade Skinski and Dodo an affecting farewell.

Bunch and I couldn’t talk for hours afterwards.

We were afraid we’d wake ourselves up.

When I reached home Clara J. started in to tell me what a delightful time she had had at the New Rochelle theatre, and how clever the magician was, and what a funny clown came out first and smashed a real egg on the stage, but I begged off and went to bed.

I never slept so soundly in all my life.

Next day I handed the five thousand dollars to Uncle Peter, and he complimented me so highly on my ability to save money that I nearly swallowed my palate.

“I’m going to invest this carefully for you, John,” he informed me.  “When we return from Europe you’ll be surprised.”