"Mr. Carpenter has just done me a great service," I explained. "I
got badly mauled in the mob--"

"Oh!" cried the other. "At the Excelsior Theatre!" Here was
something to talk about, to cover his bewilderment. "So you were in
it! I was watching them just now."

"Are they still at it?"

"Sure thing!"

"A fine set of boobs," I began--

"Boobs, nothing!" broke in the other. "What do you suppose they're
doing?"

"Saving us from Hun propaganda, so they told me."

"The hell of a lot they care about Hun propaganda! They are earning
five dollars a head."

"What?"

"Sure as you're born!"

"You really know that?"

"Know it? Pete Dailey was at a meeting of the Motion Picture
Directors' Association last night, and it was arranged to put up the
money and hire them. They're a lot of studio bums, doing a real mob