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act and made it more of a soldier talk than usual. I was getting along pretty well when the horrible thought came to me — remembering vaudeville — that I hadn’t got my ‘exit.’ How was I going to wind up my speech? Just then the voice of an angel whispered it to me: ‘General, I salute you.’ And turning to him where he sat in the box of honor, I said it and gave him the salute. And,” Bacon finished with a pardonable thrill, “Pershing rose and stood at attention as I left the stage.”
“Then you and the general got to talking at the banquet and ?”
“Yes — he remembered the barnstormers.”
“But not the man who was going to play Bill Jones ?”
“No more than I remembered the lieutenant who was going to win the war.”
“And that’s how you became an actor?”
“No; started with Warfield; and was a newspaperman first.”
“Great heavens, Frank, you wouldn’t lie out of your part!”
“Don’t have to. I was a newspaper man. I solicited ads for the San Jose Mercury, started a paper at Mountain View, and bought one, a daily, in Napa. It was while I was running the one in Napa that Warfield came along, barnstorming with Fanny Wood, and I made my first professional appearance with him as Dan in ‘The Streets of New York.’ And I guess I thought about as much of his acting then as he thought of mine.”
“What’s the secret of acting, Frank? You’re fiftiy-seven ; you’ve got ‘Lightnin’ ’ behind you and before you; you ought to know. What is it?”
He thought a moment. Then he said : “Learn all