(in distance). Can’t stop—don’t know how—
Barlow (leaning out of window). By Jove! he’s turned the corner all right. If he keeps on around, we can catch him next time he passes.
Mrs. Bradley. Oh, do, do stop him. I’m so afraid he’ll be hurt.
Mrs. Perkins (looking out). I can just see him on the other side of the square—and, oh dear me!—his lamp is out.
Mrs. Bradley. Oh, Mr. Yardsley—Mr. Barlow—Mr. Perkins—do stop him!
[By this time all are gazing out of window, except Perkins, who is nursing his ankle.
Perkins. I guess not. I’m not going to lie down in the road, or sit in the road, or stand in the road to stop him or anybody else. I don’t believe I’ve got a sound bone left; but if I have, I’m going to save it, if Bradley kills himself. If his lamp’s out the police will stop him. Why not be satisfied with that?
Bradley (passing the window). For Heaven’s sake! one of you fellows stop me.
Yardsley. Put on the brake.
Barlow. Fall off. It hasn’t got a brake.
Bradley (despairingly, in distance). Can’t.
Mrs. Perkins. This is frightful.
Perkins (with a grimace at his ankle). Yes; but there are other fearful things in this world.
Mrs. Bradley. I shall go crazy if he isn’t stopped. He’ll kill himself.
Yardsley (leaving window hurriedly). I have it. Got a length of clothes-line, Mrs. Perkins?
Barlow. What the dickens—
Mrs. Perkins. Yes.
[She rushes from the room.
Mrs. Bradley. What for?
Yardsley. I’ll lasso him, next time he comes around.
Perkins (with a grin). There’ll be two of us! We can start a hospital on the top floor.
Mrs. Perkins (returning). Here—here’s the line.
[Yardsley takes it hurriedly, and, tying it into a noose, hastens out.
Perkins (rising). If I never walk again, I must see this. [Limps to window.
Mrs. Bradley. He’s coming, Mr. Yardsley; don’t miss him.
Barlow. Steady, Bob; get in the light.
Mrs. Perkins. Suppose it catches his neck?
Perkins. This beats the Wild West Show.
[A crash.
All. He’s got him.
[All rush out, except Perkins.
Perkins. Oh yes; he learned in a minute, he did. Easy! Ha, ha! Gad! it almost makes me forget my pain.
Enter all, asking. “Is he hurt? How do you feel?” etc. Yardsley has rope-end in right hand; noose is tied about Bradley’s body, his coat and clothing are much the worse for wear.
Mrs. Bradley. Poor, dear Edward!
Bradley (weakly kissing her). Don’t m-mind me. I—I’m all right—only a little exhilarated—and somewhat—er—somewhat breathless. Feel like a bird—on toast. Yardsley, you’re a brick. But that pavement—that was a pile of ’em, and the hardest I ever encountered. I always thought asphalt was soft—who said asphalt was soft?
Perkins. Easy to learn, though, eh?
Bradley. Too easy. I’d have gone on—er—forever—er—if it hadn’t been for Bob.
Mrs. Bradley. I’ll give it up, Ned dear, if you say so.
Mrs. Perkins (affectionately). That’s sweet of you, Emma.
Bradley. No, indeed, you won’t, for—er—I—I rather like it while it’s going on, and when I learn to get off—
Yardsley. Which you will very shortly.
Barlow. You bet! he’s a dandy. I taught him.
Bradley. I think I’ll adore it.
Perkins. Buy a Czar wheel, Brad. Best in the market; weighs only twenty pounds. I’ve got one with a ki-yi pump and a pneumatic gun you can have for ten dollars.
Jennie (at the door). Supper is served ma’am. [Exit.
Mrs. Perkins. Let us go out and restore our nerves. Come, Emma.
[She and Mrs. Bradley walk out.
Yardsley (aside). I say, Brad, you owe me five.
Bradley. What for?
Yardsley. Bail.
Barlow. Cheap too.
Yardsley. Very. I think he ought to open a bottle besides.
Perkins. I’ll attend to the bottles. We’ll have three.
Barlow. Two will be enough.
Perkins. Three—two of fizz for you and Bob and the ladies, and if Bradley will agree, I’ll split a quart of Pond’s Extract with him.
Bradley. I’ll go you. I think I could take care of the whole quart myself.
Perkins. Then we’ll make it four bottles.
Mrs. Perkins (appearing at door with her arm about Mrs. Bradley). Aren’t you coming?
Perkins (rising with difficulty). As fast as we can, my dear. We’ve been taking lessons, you know, and can’t move as rapidly as the rest of you. We’re a trifle—ah—a trifle tired. Yardsley, you tow Bradley into the dining room; and, Barlow, kindly pretend I’m a shawl, will you, and carry me in.
Bradley. I’ll buy a wheel to-morrow.
Perkins. Don’t, Brad. I—I’ll give you mine. Fact is, old man, I don’t exactly like feeling like a bird.
[They go out, and as the last, Perkins and Bradley, disappear stiffly through the portières, the curtain falls.
A DRAMATIC EVENING
CHARACTERS:
