A deal in ducks ...

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Act I

SCENE. — Office of a typical, small, country newspaper. Desk for Jack and desk with a typewriter for Betty. Sale bills and calendars on the walls. Waste paper baskets, newspapers, advertisements and so forth scattered about the room to give it the appearance of a country town newspaper. Betty is discovered at her desk busily engaged in writing copy.

(Mike enters at c. d. As he talks with Betty he removes his hat and coat and hangs them on the peg from which he takes an apron. He puts on the apron and lights a short, stubby pipe.)

Betty (stops working and looks up). Good-morning, Mike.

Mike. Top of the marnin' to yez, Miss Betty.

Betty. You are a little late to work this morning, Mike.

Mike. Couldn't help it this marnin\ Sure and we are having lots of excitement down at our house.

Betty. What's the matter? Are some of the children sick again ?

Mike. No, a burgular broke into our house about three o'clock this marnin'.

Betty. A burgular ! Mercy, did he get anything ?

Mike. Did he get anything? Begora, ye ought to see his eye. Sure and me wife thought it was me.

Betty. You shouldn't stay out so late nights, Mike. I'm afraid you don't appreciate your wife as you should.

O A DEAL IN DUCKS

Mike. Oh, I appreciate Maggie all right. She went to Sunday School the other Sunday and learned all about heaping on coals of fire.

Betty. Isn't that splendid? And now I suppose she's trying it on you.

Mike. Yes, she's trying it on me, all right. Only she's got the thing mixed up a bit and begora she's using hot water.

Betty. Now, Mike, I know better than that. Maggie is a good wife and you will go a long way before you find another one like her.

Mike. Sure an' you're right, Miss Betty. Maggie is the best little pal in the world. I was late this marnin' hunting me pipe. The kids had it out in the back yard blowing bubbles with it. Has Jack been down this marnin' ?

Betty. Yes. He went to the post-office for the mail. Jack is very anxious to see his mail every day now as he hopes to hear from the War Department in regard to his enlistment in the army.

Mike. An' phwat wad become of the paper an* us, if his appleekashun shud be accepted?

Betty. If he goes to war he intends to sell the paper and invest the money in Liberty Bonds. It will mean quite a sacrifice for Jack. He has worked hard to get this paper up to a point where it is a paying proposition and now, just as it is at the place where he could reap the benefits of his labors, he is going to leave it.

Mike. Begora, I don't blame him a bit. If it wasn't for Maggie and the kids I'd be there meself. It's hard to stay home when the other fellows are all going.

Betty. I feel sorry for Jack on account of the financial sacrifice he must make, but, oh, how I envy him the privilege of going out like a man and taking a man's part in this struggle for civilization. As I read and hear of the butchery and destruction in Belgium ; the shooting and killing of children and harmless citizens ; it makes my blood fairly boil. Oh, that I were a man that I could do something. It seems to me like looking on at a murder or watching a bulldog killing a kitten and doing nothing. I can't understand how any man who is half a man can be content to be out of it.

{Enter Jack c. d. Hears last of Betty's speech.)

Jack. That's fine, Betty. Fine. If the United States Government doesn't put you in charge of a recruiting station, it ought to, that's all. Don't you think so, Mike?

Mike. Begora, and you're right, Jack. Sure, and I've been growing smaller and smaller, standing here feeling like I been letting the bulldog eat up the cats right before me very eyes.

Betty. No, Mike. I do not refer to men like you. We all know that Maggie and the little Mikes need you at home. But I do believe that every man ought to either be in training or helping in some way at home. They say it takes eight men behind the lines for every man in the trenches so there should be a job for everyone.

Jack. Well, Betty, I hope soon to be one of those in the trenches. {Takes letter from his pocket.) I received my summons this morning and I am to report at the Court House at Munford within twenty-four hours. That means that I must start to pack my grip at once.

Betty. But Jack! You can't possibly leave so soon. What will become of your business ?

Jack. It isn't a question of can or can't. It's " Must."

Betty. But just think of the sacrifice that it will mean.

Jack. I supposed that I would have plenty of time to dispose of my business after hearing from my application but it seems that the Government is in urgent need of men. However, there is no use to worry about what can't be helped. I should have thought of that before.

Mike. Misther Jackson has been wantin' the paper fer some toime. Can't yez sell it to 'im ?

Jack. No. I stopped in to see him on my way from the office. In some manner he has found out that I must leave at once and has withdrawn his offer of two thousand dollars for the paper. He said he was afraid the war would injure the newspaper business and that he could not afford to pay more than nine hundred dollars for it.

Betty. Well, of all the ungrateful impudence ! I must say that I like his nerve. I wish I were a man, I'd tell him something.

Mike. Ye're not goin' to let 'im have it, be yez?

Jack. No, I will close the place up first. Jackson thinks he has me in a pinch and that I will have to sell. Well, he has another " think " coming. It's hard to keep up your patriotism sometimes, when you see the ungratefulness of a few of these unprincipled money grabbers. They seem to forget that it is their property and their homes that we are going out to fight for as well as our own. There's one redeeming feature and that is that the great mass of the American people are behind the boys and will back them up to the last ditch. What worries me most is, what will become of you who have been so faithful to me, in case I am obliged to close up the shop.

Mike. Don't yez be worryin' about me. If the worst comes I can go like the other bhoys and Uncle Sam will take care of Maggie and the kids. I'm not much of a shot but begora, I can throw bricks in case they run out of bullets.

Betty. Never mind us, Jack. We'll get along all right. Before this war .is over we may all be fighting in one way or another.

{Enter Mr. Hardnock and Ruth, c. d.)

Ruth (goes to Jack and he places arm about her waist). Jack, we just heard the news. Must you go so soon?

Jack. Yes, Ruth. I must report at Munford within

A DEAL IN DUCKS Q

twenty- four hours. I just received the notice and was coming up to tell you of it. It is rather a surprise, as I expected that I would have plenty of time to settle up my affairs before leaving.

Hardnock. There, I told you so. I warned you all the time and advised against this enlistment business. There was no call for it as I could see. This is not our scrap, anyway.

Betty. Well, it most certainly is our scrap. And anyone but a blind man could see it, unless he had certain reasons of his own for not wanting to see it. If Germany should win this war now, it would be the last of the United States of America.

Hardnock. Oh, fiddlesticks and fish-bones! You alarmists make me tired. We are too far away to be in any danger. Suppose they should, somehow or other, scramble over here with a few hundred thousand men. Then we would all turn out and take a shot at them.

Ruth. But we have no rifles.

Hardnock. We have shotguns.

Jack. Yes, and Mike here has some bricks and the girls have hat pins. That is just the danger. You may be the bravest people on earth, but if you have neither the arms nor the training while the other chaps have both, you are just like sheep ready for the slaughter.

Hardnock (goes towards c. d.). All right! All right ! I wash my hands of the whole affair. Nobody can ever blame John Hardnock for shouting this nation into war.

Betty. Well, I should say not. And no one can ever give him any credit for winning it, either.

Hardnock. And as for you, Jack, no one who is foolish enough to mix up in this fuss and throw away a chance like this to make money will ever have a chance to spend any of mine. And if my daughter still chooses to marry that kind of a man she can make up her mind to live on that kind of an income. Good-day!

(Exit c. d.)

Betty. Of all the nerve! Nobody wants any of your stingy old money anyway. I beg your pardon, Ruth, but your father makes me warm under the collar, sometimes.

Ruth. Oh, never mind father. He had fried fish for breakfast and they never do agree with him. Jack knows that father's objections will make no difference with me.

Jack. Thank you, Ruth, for saying so, but your father is right to a certain extent. A girl, accustomed as you have been to the luxuries of life, should be pretty sure that she has the right man before throwing away a life of ease and comfort for a life of toil and hardship with a man without money.

Betty. Oh, shucks ! I wouldn't give two cents for a girl who didn't have enough confidence in the man she was going to marry to believe that he would soon be a millionaire, at least.

Jack. I must go to the house now and break the news to mother. Would you care to walk along, Ruth ? We can talk over our plans on the way.

Ruth. Certainly, Jack. I will go with you and perhaps I may be of some help to your mother in getting your things ready.

Jack. We'll be right back, Betty. Meanwhile you might as well let Mike set up a little type. It will do him good.

(Exit Ruth and Jack c. d.)

Betty (handing paper to Mike). All right. Here's some copy, Mike. Set up this prohibition notice. It will make you forget your other troubles.

Mike (takes copy and starts off stage). First 'twas war and now 'tis prohibition. Begora, I wonder what the next great calamity'll be.

(Exits into press room.)

(Betty sits at typewriter and writes. Enter Bob c. d. Does not notice Betty at first. Betty stops writing and watches Bob.)

Bob (looks around office). So I have found the den

A DEAL IN DUCKS II

of the sly old fox at last. Who would ever have thought that that old college hero, Home Run Jack, would ever settle down in a little burg like this, and run a little dinky, once a week, newspaper. He has a nifty little place here, though, but how he ever came to squat down and live in a place like this is more than I can see. Not even a pie- throwing picture show to relieve the monotony of life. (Betty looks up and watches Bob.) I've been in them before. The girls all flirt, chew gum, sing in the choir and meet the train on Sunday night. Of all the girls in the world give me

anything but a small country town, gum chewing

{Notices Betty watching him.) Ah, excuse me! {Takes off hat and bows.) How do you do? That

is It's a nice day, isn't it? {Aside.) Well, what

do you know about that?

Betty {coming forward). Good-morning. Is there something I can do for you this morning?

Bob. No — yes — that is as I was saying

{Wipes face with handkerchief.) It's rather warm, isn't it?

Betty. It does seem a little suffocating. Sort of takes a person's breath.

Bob. Yes, you did take my breath for a minute. Rather unexpected, you know. Were you raised here?

Betty. Do you wish something? If not, I am rather busy this morning.

Bob. It seems to be getting a trifle cooler.

Betty. Perhaps, but that will not prevent somebody from getting roasted if he persists in this foolishness. If you have some business, all right. If not, I must ask you to excuse me.

Bob. Why, yes — that is — I thought I would like to buy some newspapers or something. Let me see some of the very latest styles you have in newspapers.

Betty {hands Bob paper). Here's the last copy of the Sandburn Echo. Edited by Jack Gillmore. The very latest thing in newspapers and designed especially for the numerous fresh guys that come here.

Bob. Say, that's good. Now I know you were not raised here. {Hands Betty card.) Here's one of my cards. Mr. Robert White. Retired capitalist and all around good fellow. A bachelor whose tender heart is still unscratched by the claws of matrimony. What did I understand you to say your name is?

Betty. I hardly think you understood me to say.

Bob. I guess that's right, come to think of it. But don't you think that we could get along lots faster in our business relations if we were better acquainted? You know it's hard for me to do business with strangers, especially when they have such bright, interesting eyes.

Betty. My eyes are neither bright nor interesting. In fact they are almost as dull and uninteresting as some of our customers.

Bob. Oh, I see. In that case I might as well be going. (Writes note.) I will leave a note for Jack — I mean the editor — and will call again a little later. (Hands Betty note.) I wish to look around the town a little. I would like to get into the manufacturing business in this town, if possible.

Betty (interested). So? May I inquire what kind of goods you wish to make ?

Bob. Certainly. If I could only get a certain party for a partner I should like to make a few dates.

Betty. If you refer to me, I must decline with thanks. I prefer the newspaper business.

Bob. Sure, that's all right. Everyone to his own liking. I bid thee farewell. I only hope you will like me more as you know me better.

(Exit c. d.)

Betty. Well, of all the nerve that was ever wrapped up in one little bit of a piece of humanity, he's it. (Glances at note.) I wonder what can be in this note. Business, I suppose. Still he didn't talk like a business man. (Looks at note.) Why, Betty Hart! What in the world is the matter with you ? That note can be of no possible interest to you. Still, if it's business it may be something that I can attend to. He didn't say it was personal. I wonder if it would be right for me to read it. I have a notion to take a little peep, just for fun. Nobody ever need to know. (Glances about room, unfolds note and reads.) " Dear old Jack." (Aside.) Why, he must be a friend of Jack's. " Am off to war and just dropped in to say good-bye." (Aside.) That makes a difference. (Reads.) " I want to tell you what a sweet, dear little stenographer you have." (Aside.) This is getting interesting. (Reads.) "1 lost my heart to her on sight." (Aside.) At least he shows good judgment. (Reads.) " If she should read this and will meet me this evening on that cozy little bridge in the park I will tell her all about it." (Angrily.) Oh, the mean, old, horrid thing! (Tears up note.) That note was just a trap. (Stamps her foot.) I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! (Meditates.) And yet — and yet — what wonderful eyes. (Smiles.)

(Voices heard off stage. Betty hurriedly picks up pieces of note, leaving one and taking some copy from desk exits r. d.)

(Enter Jack and Hardnock.)

Jack. Is your answer absolutely final, Mr. Hardnock?

Hardnock. Absolutely. I would not be doing my duty to Ruth if I were to consent to this marriage. A girl accustomed to every luxury of life, such as Ruth has been, could never be happy on the income of a man like you. If you had money, things would be different. I will never consent to my daughter's marriage to any man who has not at least fifty thousand dollars to his credit in the bank.

(Bob enters, listens a moment, then steps behind desk.)

Jack. Money isn't everything in this world. I love Ruth and I believe that she loves me well enough to be happy on the income that I can supply her with.

Hardnock. Perhaps, for a while, but it would not last.

Jack. But it is impossible for any man, within a few years, to save fifty thousand dollars and make it honestly.

Hardnock. It is easy if you go about it in the right way. The big fortunes of to-day are not made by hard work. One good investment is worth a lifetime of labor. And then there are other ways. Not approved of, perhaps, by your Sunday School teacher, but at the same time they bring in the money.

Jack. I would rather be poor all my life and lie in a pauper's grave than to go about the country cheating the people out of their hard-earned savings by dishonest methods. I would rather be able to look my fellow man in the face with a clear conscience and a clean hand than to have all the gold in the world.

Hardnock. That is splendid sentiment but very poor judgment. Young man, don't you know that one-half the population of this globe is simply giving its money away to the other half every day by the stock and investment route? I don't exactly like that word " cheating " you used. I prefer to call it " business ingenuity/' If you ever expect to make big money you absolutely must have a certain amount of shrewd, cunning, business ingenuity. I'm willing to admit that that's the way I made my money. I must leave you now, but think it over, and when you can come to me with a bank book, showing a deposit to your credit for fifty thousand dollars, I will not only consent to your marriage to my daughter but I will throw in an extra ten thousand myself for a little nest to live in. Think it over.

(Exit Hardnock.)

Bob (stepping out). Excuse me, Jack. But I got in and couldn't very well get out so I just stayed and heard the lecture on high finance.

Jack (shakes hands). Well, Bob! I sure am glad to see you. Where in the world did you drop from?

You are always turning up just when I am most in need of a friend. What are you doing way down here ?

Bob. I have just completed a course of training at an Officers' Training Camp and am waiting for Uncle Sam to say " Come." But what's all the rumpus about ? You look as though you were in trouble.

Jack. Yes, I am in trouble, Bob. I'm right up against it. I just received notice from the War Department to report for duty at once and here I am with all this business on my hands and the father of the only girl in the world refuses to consider me as a suitable son-in-law.

Bob. Do you mean to say that that crazy old fish objects to you as a son-in-law? Well, I most certainly would object to him as a father-in-law. But never mind, Jack. If the girl is really worth while, you should worry, whether he objects or not.

Jack. It will make no difference to Ruth, in the way you mean. She is the best little girl in the world, but it would not be fair for me to ask her to give up her position and wealth, at least not until I can offer her something more than I can at present. Even this little newspaper business, that I have worked so hard to make a success of, seems to be headed for the rocks.

Bob. Jack, I have an idea. You know I always was long on ideas and short on cash.

Jack. Yes, I remember. What particular wheel has started to buzzing now ?

Bob. Simply this. I may not be called to the army for some time. Why not let me take charge of things here and help run the paper or at least try to sell the business for something like a fair price.

Jack. But you have never had any experience, have you?

Bob. No, of course not. But then I am chuck full of ambition, confidence and self-appreciation. I guess that ought to make it go, hadn't it? You know my reputation for tackling everything.

Jack. Yes, and of succeeding at nothing. You are a fine boy, Bobbie, but as a printer I am afraid you l6 A DEAL IN DUCKS

will be one grand mistake. Well, there's one consolation, you certainly can't make things any worse. Try it if you wish. If Betty would stay on the job I would have more faith in your success.

Bob. Oh, sure. She'll stay all right when she finds out that I am going to be here.

{Picks up piece of note left by Betty and looks at it.)

Jack. You seem to have found something interesting.

Bob. No, nothing but a little piece of a note somebody has torn up. It belongs to me, I guess. At least it has my name on it. I'll just keep it for future reference. (Puts paper in pocket. ) By the way, Jack, your stenographer didn't seem very sociably inclined this morning.

Jack. No, I suppose not, if you went about getting acquainted the way you usually do. Betty is the finest little girl in the world but she has no use for the boys, especially the trifling kind.

Bob. But I'm not trifling. I'm serious. Somehow when I gaze into her eyes she seems different from the rest.

Jack. Yes, most of them are different, especially when you gaze into their eyes.

Bob. She's not engaged or anything like that, is she?

Jack. No. Her heart is still free for the man who is lucky enough to win it. However, I can give you very little encouragement along that line. Betty is all business and has no time for tomfoolery.

Bob. I should worry about Tom. Wait till I get in some of my work.

(Enter Betty l. d. Sees men and starts to exit.)

Jack. Betty ! Just a moment ! (Betty comes forward.) I want you to meet an old college chum of mine, Robert White. Bob, this is my assistant, Miss Hart. The best printer in the state.

Betty (shaking hands). How do you do, Mr.

White? I beg your pardon for seeming so rude this morning but I did not know you were a friend of Jack's.

Bob. I am surely delighted to know you, Miss Hart. Don't mention that little incident this morning. I had it all coming to me and then some. Yes, I claim to be one of Jack's many friends, but you must not hold that against me.

Betty. I'm sure no friend of Jack's could be so very bad.

Jack. I'm not so sure about that, Betty. While in school Bob had the reputation of being a thief. You had better be on your guard while he is around.

Betty. Indeed, and what does he steal ?

Jack. Girls' hearts, mostly.

Betty. Oh, I see.

Bob. Oh, come on now, Jack. That's not fair. I swear that I never flirted with a college girl in my life.

Betty. Oh, of course not. Nor with a newspaper girl either, I suppose.

Jack. Oh, so that was the trouble, was it? You know Bob was just complaining to me about your not being very sociable this morning.

Bob. Let's talk about something else. Jack, you tell her about the new editor of the Sandburn Echo.

Betty. You haven't sold out, have you, Jack ?

Jack. No, not yet. I have just been thinking of letting Bob stick around here while you run the paper. We will make him think he is managing things, but that is only on condition that you will stay on the job and see that things go right.

Betty. I'll be glad to stay, Jack, and do what I can to help. With Mike to help us I think we can get along nicely, especially if you will keep us supplied with news from the front. But where is Ruth ?

Jack. I left her with' mother to help pack up a few things I wish to take with me. I guess she is coming now.

{Enter Ruth with traveling case.)

Ruth. Here you are, Jack. {Hands Jack traveling case.) Everything all packed and ready.

Jack. Thank you, Ruth. How did mother seem when you left ?

Ruth. Nobody will ever know just how your mother does feel, Jack. She is braver than all the rest and is determined to send her boy away with a smile.

Jack. Dear little mother. It's hard to leave her. She will be lonesome and you must keep her company, Ruth. I will try to make her proud of me when I return.

Ruth. We are proud of you now, Jack, and know you will do the best you can. The things you are taking seem so little. Won't you take an extra blanket or something along?

Jack. No, I would only be bothered with sending it back. Uncle Sam will see to all that when we reach camp. By the way, Ruth, I want you to meet my old friend, Bobbie. I guess you have heard me tell about him enough to know who he is.

(Ruth and Bob shake hands.)

Bob. I am glad to meet you, Miss Hardnock. I certainly would have known you anywhere just from Jack's wonderful descriptions of you.

Ruth. How do you do, Mr. White. I have heard a great deal about you from Jack and I am very glad to know you.

Bob. Yes, Jack and I have had some fine times together in the good old days gone by. Say, Jack, do you remember those nifty Ramsey girls ?

(Jack tries to motion for Bob to keep still, Ruth turns and sees him and Jack acts as if he is scratching his head.)

Ruth. Why, Jack ! You never told me about those girls. Mr. White, I think I will have to have a little talk with you, in private, about Jack's early career.

Jack. Oh, you mean those fat, homely Ramsey girls. Honestly, Ruth, I had forgotten to mention them to you. Some of Bobbie's friends. By the way, Bobbie, I want to see you alone for a few minutes before I leave. And, Ruth, we haven't told you yet that Bob and Betty are going to take charge of the paper and run it for a while or try to sell for a fair price.

Ruth. Oh, I am so glad. I was afraid you would have to shut it up and lose everything. I wonder if they would take me on the reporting staff. I can get all the Aid Society news each week. How about it, Betty ? Could you use me a little ?

Betty. Surely, Ruth. We will be very glad for your help. I don't know how we will make it go but we will do the very best we can.

Bob. That we will, and while Jack is over there dodging German bullets we will be over here dodging American bill collectors.

Jack. That reminds me of something I was going to mention. How are your finances ? I am afraid that my salary as a soldier will hardly be sufficient to allow me to pay very big wages.

Bob. Now you just forget all about that part of it. I'm broke, as usual, but will get along, as usual. I'll go out and collect a few advertising bills and back subscriptions.

Betty. I have a little money, Jack, and you are welcome to it, but right now it is tied up in a Liberty Bond subscription.

Jack. I thank you, Betty. But I hardly think that will be necessary. I have a little cash on hand and I will place a hundred dollars subject to check in the bank, for running expenses, until you can do a little collecting.

Bob. All right, Jack, but we will not use the money unless we find it necessary.