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SHOWMAN
we took extreme measures. Daly got behind the backdrop with a carpenter's maul and, when Corbett backed Monahan up against the drop, Daly let him have it in the place where his head was just as Corbett connected with his jaw again. It might very well have been a good idea, too.
Then there was the Apache chief in Tucson. We weren't keen on fighting the noble red man, but he was the only opposition available. The house was half-red, half-white and tough as a half-breed always is— a perfect setting for trouble. The trouble started when the Indian, finding he was in for a shellacking, pulled a knife on Corbett in the middle of the ring. It went on to develop into one of the prettiest race-riots which had been seen since the battle of Wounded Knee, spreading over the theater and the stage too. Our habit of looking over the theater beforehand and picking hidden windows and side-doors was the only thing that saved the day.
The usefulness of a quick exit was even more forcibly borne in upon us in San Bernardino a couple of weeks later. That story really begins in my peanutbutchering days, on a run through Arizona into California. That was back when the three Earp brothers were the quick-shooting terrors of Arizona. You may have heard of Wyatt Earp— well, his brother Virgil was just as tough an hombre. My train pulled into Tombstone one day at just the moment when the Earps, having shot up the town in their characteristic manner,
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