The prompter, who was standing between the wings, attempted to prompt me, but it did no good; for while I was on the stage I "chipped in" anything I thought of.
"The Scouts of the Plains" was an Indian drama, of course; and there were between forty and fifty "supers" dressed as Indians.

In the fight with them, Jack and I were at home.

We blazed away at each other with blank cartridges; and when the scene ended in a hand-to-hand encounter--a general knock-down and drag-out--the way Jack and I killed Indians was "a caution." We would kill them all off in one act, but they would come up again ready for business in the next.

Finally the curtain dropped; the play was ended; and I congratulated Jack and myself on having made such a brilliant and-successful _debut_.

There was no backing out after that.
The next morning there appeared in the Chicago papers some very funny criticisms on our first performance.