"I nearly came a nasty buster. I 've strained me back."
Sutley turned to her father, repeating his pantomime, but increasing the length of the fish to three feet, and explaining at the same time: "You 'd better help her off. She 's lamed." Crossing to Burls, he said: "Take away the horse. Milly 's hurt." And the fish, this time, was four feet long. When he came to the "equestrian director," it was apparently to lament the loss of a young whale. And he continued running from one to the other—as they made their exit to the wings—trying in vain to stop them with his lost-fish story.
As soon as they were behind the shelter of the scenery, Yost rounded on the girl, and she turned for aid to Sutley. But it was Burls who saved her, for the moment, by stepping between her and her father and drawing the old man aside; and the authoritative ease with which he did it showed that there was some understanding between them to give the clown the influence he evidently had. Sutley said to her quickly: "He 'll use this. See?"
She saw—with a glittering dry eye of anger.
He whispered: "'To-morrah 's Sunday. Where can I find you—in the mornin'? Will you meet me at the corner o' Broadway? I want to see you."
"If I can get out. 'E 'll try to make me stay in, if me back ain't better." She looked at him, silent. "I 'll come," she said.
He went with her to the foot of the iron stairway
