Showman (1937)

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SHOWMAN besides, some playful skeptic might plug up the pipe to see what happened." "We'd have it watched." "Not with me at the other end," I said. "You go get buried and 111 watch the little tin umbrella." He scowled, mumbled something and dropped the subject. But a few days later I began to suspect that he was remembering it against me. We were putting on our act— the usual round of grunting and rolling over was finished— and he started to give me the needles. When he deliberately overlooked the anesthetized zone and jabbed right through my cheek— well, between my mistrust of the look in his eye and the burning smart of it, I gave him a solid right-hander on the bridge of his chiseled ivory nose before I'd thought. The audience whooped with startled joy and then broke into thundering applause when Satanella, also losing his presence of mind, handed me a return compliment on the point of the jaw. We slugged away toe to toe for a while and then went to the floor in a good old-fashioned rough-house, no holds barred. Satanella was badly handicapped by his tight-fitting frock-coat, which helped make up for the difference in weight, so it was a fine shindy while it lasted. Members of the audience told me afterwards that, even if the act was spoiled, the fight was worth the whole price of admission. Naturally that was the end of my playing horse. I walked the tracks back to San Francisco, definitely minus the two weeks' pay he owed me. But, when Sat 5i