"I don't like the way he talked."

"Fresh?"

"He's always that, but this time he was something more. He thinks
he owns the girls who work for him."

Jim replied, carelessly: "Blow him and his job. You can get on at
the Palace Garden."

"There's my contract: he can discharge me, you know, but I can't
quit--that's one of the peculiarities of a theatrical contract.
Well--he insisted on taking me to supper."

"A brother is a handy thing, once in a while, but for every-day
use, you need a 'steady' with a kick in each mit."

"I wish YOU would punch him."

"Who? Me? And go joy-riding with a square-toe? Nix. I'm too
refined. Did you see to-night's papers?"

"There wasn't much in them."

Jim smiled wisely. "There would have been if things hadn't gone
right. I'm glad for your sake."

"Oh, the harm's done, I suppose. But there's one good thing about
it--Bob Wharton hasn't bothered me this evening."