Will you make it just straight ritual, or throw
in some of those specialities of yours?"
"Stevens! Catacombs!" gasped Amidon, "specialties! I--"
"I wish you could have been here when I was put through," went on Mr.
Slater. "I don't see how any one but a professional actor, or a person
with your dramatic gifts, can do that part at all--it's so sort of
ripping and--and intense, you know. I look forward to your rendition of
it with a good deal of pleasurable anticipation."
"You don't expect me to do it, do you?" asked Amidon.
"Why, who else?" was the counter-question. "We can't be expected to play
on the bench the best man in Pennsylvania in that part, can we?"
"Come, Brassfield," said the Sovereign Pontiff, "get on your regalia for
the Catacombs. We are about to begin."
"Oh, say, now!" said Amidon, trying to be off-hand about it, "you must
get somebody else."
"What's that! Some one else? Very likely we shall! Very likely!" thus
the Sovereign Pontiff with fine scorn. "Come, the regalia, and no
nonsense!"
"I--I may be called out at any moment," urged Amidon, amidst an outcry
that seemed to indicate a breach with the Martyrs then and there.
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