“I know that, my friend.”

“And vot’s more, I pay you five tousand cash on de signin’ of de contract.  You can go right in now vit dese strikers—­maybe you could beat Prince’s vit all dat money!” Then, as Carpenter still shook his head:  “I give you vun more raise, my friend—­but dat’s de last, you gotta believe me.  I pay you fifteen hunded a veek.  I aint ever paid so much money to a green actor in my life before, and I don’t tink anybody else in de business ever did.”

But still Carpenter shook his head!

“Vould you mind tellin’ me vy, Mr. Carpenter?”

“Not at all.  You tell me that I may quell mobs for you.  But there are mobs in your business that I could not quell.”

“Vot mobs?”

“Among others, yourself.”

“Me?”

“Yes—­you are a mob; a mob of money!  You storm the souls of men, and of women too.  It will take a stronger force than I to quell you.”

“I don’t git you,” said T-S, helplessly; but then, thinking it over a bit, he went on:  “I guess I’m a vulgar feller, Mr. Carpenter, and maybe all my pictures ain’t vot you call high-brow.  But if I had a man like you to vork vit, I could make vot you call real educational pictures.  You’re vot dey call a prophet, you got a message fer de vorld; vell, vy don’t you let me spread it fer you?  If you use my machinery, you can talk to a billion people.  Dat’s no joke—­if dey is dat many alive, I bring ’em to you; I bring de Japs and de Chinks and de niggers—­de vooly-headed savages vot vould eat your missionaries if you sent ’em.  I offer you de whole vorld, Mr. Carpenter; and you vould be de boss!”

Carpenter became suddenly grave.  “My friend,” said he, “a long time ago there was a prophet, and he was offered the world.  The story is told us—­’Again, the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain, and sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them; and saith unto him, All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.’  You recall that story, Mr. T-S?”

“No,” said T-S, “I ain’t vun o’ dese litry fellers.”  But he realized that the story was not complimentary to him, and he showed his chagrin.  “I tell you vun ting, Mr. Carpenter, if you vas to know me better, you vouldn’t call me a devil.”

And suddenly the other put his hand on the great man’s shoulder.  “I believe that, my friend; I hate the sin but love the sinner—­And so, suppose you come to lunch with me?”

“Lunch?” said T-S, taken aback.

“I went to dinner with you last night.  Now you come to lunch with me.”

“Vere at, Mr. Carpenter?”

Said Carpenter:  “When I went with you, I did not ask where.”