This, remember, was in the year 1913, B.W. Wallie, obeying instructions,
went to Budapest, witnessed the alleged winner, found it as advertised,
wired Hahn to that effect, and was joined by that gentleman three days
later.
Budapest, at that time, was still Little Paris, only wickeder. A city of
magnificent buildings, and unsalted caviar, and beautiful, dangerous
women, and frumpy men (civilian) and dashing officers in red pants, and
Cigány music, and cafés and paprika and two-horse droshkies. Buda, low
and flat, lay on one side; Pest, high and hilly, perched picturesquely
on the other. Between the two rolled the Blue Danube (which is yellow).
It was here that Hahn and Wallie found Mizzi Markis. Mizzi Markis, then
a girl of nineteen, was a hod carrier.
Wallie had three days in Budapest before Hahn met him there. As the
manager stepped from the train, looking geometrically square in a long
ulster that touched his ears and his heels, Wallie met him with a bound.
"Hello, S.H.! Great to see you! Say, listen, I've found something. I've
found something big!"
Hahn had never seen the boy so excited. "Oh, shucks! No play's as good
as that."
"Play! It isn't a play."
"Why, you young idiot, you said it was good! You said it was darned
good! You don't mean to tell me--"
"Oh, that! That's all right. It's good--or will be when you get through
with it."
"What you talking about then? Here, let's take one of these things with
two horses. Gee, you ought to smoke a fat black seegar and wear a silk
hat when you ride in one of these! I feel like a parade." He was like a
boy on a holiday, as always when in Europe.
"But let me tell you about this girl, won't you!"
"Oh, it's a girl! What's her name? What's she do?"
"Her name's Mizzi."
"Mizzi what?"
"I don't know. She's a hod carrier. She--"
"That's all right, Wallie. I'm here now. An ice bag on your head and
real quiet for two-three days. You'll come round fine."