The Bicyclers and Three Other Farces | Page 4

Pond's Extract, will you?
Yardsley. All right--coming. Who? Who what?
Bradley. Who has gone up-stairs after shawl-strap--my wife?
Yardsley. No, no, no. Hasn't she got here yet? It's Mrs. Perkins. Perk fell off just now and broke in two. We want to fasten him together.
Barlow (outside). Bring out that pump. His wheel's flabby.
Enter Mrs. Perkins with shawl-strap.
Mrs. Perkins. Here it is. What did I hear about Pond's Extract? Didn't somebody call for it?
Yardsley. No--oh no--not a bit of it! What you heard was shawl- strap--sounds like extract--very much like it. In fact--
Bradley. But you did say you wanted--
Yardsley (aside to Bradley). Shut up! Thaddeus banged his ankle, but he'll get over it in a minute. She'd only worry. The best bicyclers in the world are all the time falling off, taking headers, and banging their ankles.
Bradley. Poor Emma!
Enter Barlow.
Barlow. Where the deuce is that Ex--
Yardsley (grasping him by the arm and pushing him out). Here it is; this is the ex-strap, just what we wanted. (Aside to Bradley.) Go down to the drug-store and get a bottle of Pond's, will you? [Exit.
Mrs. Perkins (walking to window). She can't be long in coming now.
Bradley. I guess I'll go out to the corner again. (Aside.) Best bicyclers always smashing ankles, falling off, taking headers! If I ever get hold of Emma again, I'll see whether she'll ride that-- [Rushes out.
Mrs. Perkins. It seems to have made these men crazy. I never saw such strange behavior in all my life. (The telephone-bell rings.) What can that be? (Goes to 'phone, which stands just outside parlor door.) Hello! What? Yes, this is 1181--yes. Who are you? What? Emma? Oh dear, I'm so glad! Are you alive? Where are you? What? _Where_? _The police-station_! (Turning from telephone.) Thaddeus, Mr. Barlow, Mr. Yardsley. (Into telephone.) Hello! What for? What? Riding without a lamp! Arrested at Forty-second Street! Want to be bailed out? (Drops receiver. Rushes into parlor and throws herself on sofa.) To think of it--Emma Bradley! (Telephone-bell rings violently again; Mrs. Perkins goes to it.) Hello! Yes. Tell Ed what? To ask for Mrs. Willoughby Hawkins. Who's she? What, you! (Drops the receiver; runs to window.) Thaddeus! Mr. Yardsley! Mr. Barlow!--all of you come here, quick.
[They rush in. Perkins with shawl-strap about his waist--limping. Barlow has large air-pump in his hand. Mrs. Perkins grows faint.
Perkins. Great heavens! What's the matter?
Barlow. Get some water--quick!
[Yardsley runs for water.
Mrs. Perkins. Air! Give me air!
Perkins (grabbing pump from Barlow's hand). Don't stand there like an idiot! Act! She wants air!
[Places pump on floor and begins to pump air at her.
Barlow. Who's the idiot now? Wheel her over to the window. She's not a bicycle.
They do so. Mrs. Perkins revives.
Perkins. What is the matter?
Mrs. Perkins. Mrs. Willoughby Hawkins--arrested--Forty-second Street--no lamp--bailed out. Oh, dear me, dear me! It'll all be in the papers!
Perkins. What's that got to do with us? Who's Mrs. Willoughby Hawkins?
Mrs. Perkins. Emma! Assumed name.
Barlow. Good Lord! Mrs. Bradley in jail?
Perkins. This is a nice piece of--ow--my ankle, my ankle!
[Enter Bradley and Yardsley at same time, Bradley with bottle of Pond's Extract, Yardsley with glass of water.
Bradley. Where the deuce did you fellows go to? I've been wandering all over the square looking for you.
Perkins. Your wife--
Bradley (dropping bottle). What? What about her--hurt?
Mrs. Perkins. Worse! [Sobs.
Bradley. Killed?
Mrs. Perkins. Worse--l-lol-locked up--in jail--no bail--wants to be lamped out.
Bradley. Great heavens! Where?--when? What next? Where's my hat?-- what'll the baby say? I must go to her at once.
Yardsley. Hold on, old man. Let me go up. You're too excited. I know the police captain. You stay here, and I'll run up and fix it with him. If you go, he'll find out who Mrs. Hawkins is; you'll get mad, and things will be worse than ever.
Bradley. But--
Barlow. No buts, my dear boy. You just stay where you are. Yardsley's right. It would be an awful grind on you if this ever became known. Bob can fix it up in two minutes with the captain, and Mrs. Bradley can come right back with him. Besides, he can get there in five minutes on his wheel. It will take you twenty on the cars.
Yardsley. Precisely. Meanwhile, Brad, you'd better learn to ride the wheel, so that Mrs. B. won't have to ride alone. This ought to be a lesson to you.
Perkins. Bully idea (rubbing his ankle). You can use my wheel to- night--I--I think I've had enough for the present. (Aside.) The pavements aren't soft enough for me; and, O Lord! what a stony curb that was!
Bradley. I never thought I'd get so low.
Yardsley. Well, it seems to me that a man with a wife in jail needn't be too stuck up to ride a bicycle. But--by-by--I'm off. [Exit.
Mrs. Perkins. Poor Emma--out for freedom, and lands in jail. What horrid things policemen are, to arrest a