Then the Judge walked out onto the platform, and she faced for'ards again. "Ladies and gents," says the ole feller, talkin' like his mouth was full of mush, "we have come to give you' enterprisin' little city a free show. A free show, ladies and gents,--it ain't a-goin' to cost you a _nickel_ to come here and enjoy you'self ev'ry night. More'n that, we plan to stay as long as you want us to. And we plan to give you the very best talent in this hull United States." All this time, the fancy-vest fellers was layin' a carpet and fixin' a box and a table on the stage. The Judge, he turned and waved his hand. "Our first number," he says, "will be the Murrays in they marvellous act." Wal, them fancy-vests and the lady was the Marvellous Murrays. And they was all in pink circus-clothes. "Two brothers and a sister, I guess," says Hairoil. I should _hope_ so! 'Cause the way they jerked each other 'round was enough t' bring on a fight if they hadn't 'a' been relations. All three of 'em could walk on they hands nigh as good as on they feet, and turn somersets quicker'n lightnin'. And when the somersettin' and leap-froggin' come to oncet, it was grand! First the big feller'd git down; then, the other'd step onto his back. And as the big one bucked, his brother'd fly up,--all in a ball, kinda--spin 'round two 'r three times, and light right side up. And then they stood on each other's faces like they'd plumb flat 'em out! When they was done, they all come to the edge of the platform, the lady kissin' her hand. All the punchers kissed back! Wal, ev'rybody laughed then, and clapped, and the Judge brought on the Injun. That Injun was smart, all right. Wiggled his fingers behind a sheet and made 'em look like animals, and like people that was walkin' and bowin' and doin' jigs. I wondered if Macie Sewell liked it. Guess she did! She was a-smilin' and leanin' for'ards to whisper to Billy and Rose. But not much to Simpson, _I_ thought. Say! I was glad of that. Wasn't _none_ of my business, a-course. _Course,_ it wasn't. But, just the same, whenever I seen him put his haid clost to hern, it shore got under my skin. The Judge was out again. "Miss Vera de Mille," he says, "will sing 'Wait Till the Sun Shines, Maggie.'" Wal, if I hadn't 'a' had reasons fer stayin', I wouldn't 'a' waited a _minute_--reg'lar cow-bellerin' in place of a voice, y' savvy. What's more, she was only that Marvellous Murray woman in diff'rent clothes! (No wonder they wasn't no more people in that outfit!) But I didn't keer about the show. I just never took my eyes offen---- She looked my way again! Say! I was roped--right 'round my shoulders, like I'd roped Simpson! And I was plumb helpless. That look of hern was a lasso, pullin' me to her, steady and shore. "Macie--Macie Sewell," I whispered to myself, and I reckon my lips moved. "You blamed idjit!" says Hairoil, out loud almost, "what's the matter with you? You'll have me outen this winda in a minute!"