In any small-city house a large part of the patronage comes from the farmers and surrounding villages. I can stand out in front of my house and count people from half a dozen smaller towns. And it's because I get the pictures ahead of the smaller places.
It's no more than fair because I've got a bigger and better house and I can pay more than the small town-and the exchanges are willing to give me preferred booking. If they weren't I'd probably have to close up. I'd hate to try to operate with every wide place in the road around me getting pictures before I did. Almost as bad as I'd hate to show in court why I was entitled to pull trade away from another showman. Jimmie Nedry showed up around eleven, and we went inside. It was Thursday, and our Friday's product should have been in for screening. But it wasn't. I called home, and it hadn't been dropped off there, either.
I put in a call to the city, and got Jiggs Larrimore on the wire. Jiggs is manager of one of the little exchanges. I don't particularly need him, and he needs me bad.
"I guess there's been a little mix-up, Joe," he said. "I'll tell you what you'd better do. You just hold over the picture you've been playing, and we'll take care of anything extra you have to pay on the option."
"Yeah?" I said. "Now I'll tell you what you'd better do. You'd better get that picture here to me and get it here pronto."
"Now, look, Joe-"
"It's for my Friday-Saturday show. You know I've got to have a Western on Friday and Saturday. The yokels won't go for anything else."
"But it's too late to-"
"Huh-uh. No, it isn't, Jiggs," I said. "Craig City's got that picture advertised for today. They've been advertising it here in my home- town paper. You pull their print over to me, Jiggs. It doesn't make any difference in a town that big whether they play horse opera on the week-end or not."
"Well, now"-I could hear him gulp-"I don't believe we can do that, Joe."
"Why not? Because it's one of Sol Panzer's houses?"
"Well. After all-"
"Look," I said. "How many of those Panz palace houses are you in? Sol gives you a spot whenever he feels like it, and that ain't often. I buy the block. You pull that pic over here, Jiggs. You get it here quick. If you don't I'll set out every one of your dates and sell you a roll of tickets besides."
Jiggs sighed. "I hear you talking, Joe. Here it comes.
I hung up, and turned to Jimmie Nedry. "I guess that'll show Mr. Big Time Panzer something," I said. "He'll do a little thinking before he runs any more ads in this town."
"Yeah," said Jimmie. "So what?"
I let it pass, and went on outside. I knew Jimmie was feeling low about his money troubles, and I'd thought it would cheer him up to hear Jiggs Larrimore catch hell. That's one reason I'd cracked down on Jiggs. But Jimmie didn't react like he should have. He couldn't think about anything but his own worries.
The thought flashed through my mind for a second that maybe there was something more to that picture mix-up than Solly Panzer's trying to pull a fast one on me. And crazy as the idea was it made me shiver to think about it.
It was just one of those things that happen. It couldn't be anything else. I had the Barclay in a spot that no one could touch and everyone knew it.
Just the same, though, I couldn't help thinking, Wouldn't that be hell? Wouldn't it just be sweet to mix yourself in a murder and then find out that it hadn't got you anything?
11
I worked my way around the square, shaking hands and slapping backs, and talking about crops and kids until I got to Sim's Pool Hall. Then I went inside and drank a bottle of beer and bought one for Sim. There were a lot of young bucks in there, and it wasn't long before most of them were around me. I'd picked up some new stories on film row. After we'd all had a few laughs and they'd bought me a beer or two I moved on again. Well, I did buy a package of mints, first.
About a block down the street I ran into Reverend Connors, the Christian Church minister. I bought a couple of tickets he was selling to a pie sociable, and wrote him out a pass to the show. I knew he wouldn't use it, and no one else could since I'd put his name on it.
"I'll tell you what, Reverend," I said. "If the church ladies would like to set up a table for their stuff in the lobby of the show I'd be glad to have them."
"Bless you, Brother Wilmot!" he said. "They'll be delighted to hear that."
He went away real pleased. I was sort of pleased myself. It would help to draw a crowd, and wherever there's a crowd there's business.
A half hour or so later I ran into Jeffery Higginbotham, the high school principal. He and I don't ever get familiar but we understand each other. He was kind of worried-on my account. The junior class was giving a play next month. They'd picked a Saturday night date to give it. What did I think?
Naturally, I thought it was a hell of a note, but I didn't say so.
"Why, that's swell," I said. "I'll let you have the show to put it on in."
"But we couldn't do that," he said. "You couldn't lose your night's business for us, Mr. Wilmot."
"I couldn't afford to, but I would," I said, "if it wasn't for sentiment among the town businessmen. You know, a picture show draws a lot of business to a town. I'm afraid they wouldn't like it if I didn't run on a Saturday night."
"No, I don't suppose they would," he said. "But-"
"Now, here's my idea," I said. "I'll turn the show over to you after midnight. The kids will love that. You know-having a regular midnight show, big-city style. And you'll catch a lot of customers you'd miss otherwise. A lot of people that come for the picture will stay to see the play."
"That's good reasoning," he said, and his eyes twinkled. "And a lot of people who intend to see the play will come early to see the picture. Or had you thought of that?"
"It never entered my mind," I said.
We both laughed, and I moved on again. I got back to the show at two o'clock when the matinee was starting.
Mrs. Artie Fletcher, my cashier-yes, and president of the Legion auxiliary-was talking over the telephone with her back half turned to the window. I've got a sign on that phone saying No Personal Calls Please, and I've given her more than one hint about using it. But it don't bother her any. I guess she thinks the rules don't apply to auxiliary women.
I guess they don't, either.
Several people had to wait around for tickets.
My doorman is Harry Clinkscales, the captain of the high school football team. If I could buy him for what he's worth and sell him for what he thinks he is I'd retire tomorrow. He's not even honest like you'd ordinarily expect a big overgrown pie-faced dumbbell to be. I know he knocks down on the popcorn machine, and if I didn't keep close watch on him he'd pass in a dozen females a day.
I wouldn't mind if it was just a few.
The day went fast. It was five o'clock before I knew it. late supper at the Palace Restaurant, had some pie and coffee at Mike's Barbecue, and bought some cigarettes at the City Drug.
I suppose that sounds pretty narrow and scheming, that trade-spreading stunt and some of the others I've told you about. But when everyone else is the same what choice have you got?
Bower-the guy that used to own the other house- couldn't be bothered about stuff like that. But look what happened to him. Elizabeth couldn't be bothered, either, and look at the shape she was in when I first met her.
I didn't tell you, I guess, but Elizabeth went into the show business in the first place because she knew she wasn't a mixer and she thought it was one business where she wouldn't have to be. People would just lay their money down quietly, and pass inside, and that would finish the transaction.