CHAPTER XXI.THE INQUISITIVE STRANGER.
Frank was surprised, but he immediately said:
“All right, sir.”
“You will go?”
“Yes, sir.”
These ready answers seemed to please Roscoe Havener.
“You are the only man available,” he said; “and we can let you go now, for Lawrence is back with us.”
Right there Barnaby Haley hastened to put in:
“You are the only man available, and so we are forced to take you. You have done remarkably well, Merriwell, since I engaged you; but, of course, it takes an experienced man to do the best work ahead of a company. You haven’t the experience, and——”
“He lacked experience as an actor, Mr. Haley,” said the stage-manager; “but he did a remarkable turn, just the same.”
“That was different—that was different. He could be shown in that case; in this he must use his own judgment, after receiving a few general instructions.”
“You know that no man can be shown how to act in such a short time, Mr. Haley,” came quietly from Havener’s lips. “He has tact, talent, ability. He has remarkable catch-on-it-ive-ness. I say this before him, for I do not believe he is in any danger of getting a swelled head. I think you can give him his instructions and he will take up Collins’ work just where Collins dropped it, and carry it on successfully. I hate to lose him, for he is a first-class utility man; but this seems to be a case of have to, and I am ready to do what I can for the interest of the company.”
“How could Collins break his contract?” asked Frank. “How could he leave without proper notice?”
“He had no contract with the new concern,” explained Haley. “All there was between us was his old contract with me, as he was out ahead at the time we reorganized, and I didn’t take the trouble to make a new contract for him. Wish I had now, though he might have broken it anyway. Couldn’t get anything out of him, for he hasn’t anything; but I could make it hot for King for hiring him away from me.”
“Who is King?” asked Frank.
“King!” blurted Haley, wrathfully. “He’s a scoundrel—a confounded scoundrel! He’s the manager of the ‘Julian King Stock Company,’ a fake concern—a lot of bum ham-fatters.”
“A rival company?”
“Rival company—rival to the ‘Empire Theater Comedy Company’? Well, I should say not! Such a collection of stiffs cannot be dignified by the title.”
It was plain to Merry that Haley entertained a strong feeling of hatred for Julian King and his organization.
“You see, King treated Mr. Haley very shabbily,” explained Havener.
“Shabbily is not the word—not the word,” spluttered the manager. “He robbed me! We were in Wisconsin. Had been having a hard run. He was my partner in the venture. We were playing ‘Uncle Tom.’ It became necessary to raise money somehow to recover our trunks, which the venial keeper of a third-rate hotel refused to give up till his beastly bill was liquidated. We were compelled to sell the donkey and some other property. King secured the money thus obtained, and skipped with it, leaving us worse off than before. I have never met him face to face since that day, although we have been in close proximity several times. Now he has induced my advance man to quit me and go with his miserable old show.”
“I don’t see just what he wants of Collins,” said Havener, “for he has had Delvin Riddle in advance, and Riddle is one of the best men in the business. Riddle may have left him.”
“Left him—of course!” nodded Haley. “That’s what’s happened. King couldn’t keep a man like Riddle. Now, if we could get hold of him——But I suppose that’s out of the question. We don’t know where he is. We’ll have to send Merriwell out. It’s the best we can do.”
It was plain he was not quite satisfied with the idea of putting Merry ahead of the show, but accepted it as the only resort.
Hawkins was silent. He was a man who said very little on any occasion.
“It is barely possible that King hasn’t engaged Collins for advance agent,” said Havener.
“What else could he want him for?” asked Haley.
“You know Collins can fill a part, if necessary. He is pretty good on old men. King may have taken him to fill in a vacancy.”
“He took him to injure me! That’s exactly what he did! He is an ungrateful reprobate.”
“Well, he’s got him, anyhow; and the best thing we can do is go right along as if we didn’t miss him at all. Where was Collins when King scooped him?”
“In Salacia.”
“What’s the next town?”
“Dundee.”
“Well, Merriwell must take the morning train for Dundee. You must provide him with complimentary passes, press notices, the route booked, and instructions how to proceed. I believe he will prove himself equal to the emergency, and we shall get along all right as far as the advance work is concerned.”
Havener spoke as if he were the actual manager of the company, instead of being nothing but the stage-manager, and Haley did not resent being told what he must do.
Haley made a pretense of asking Hawkins’ advice, but Hawkins had not much to say.
Then the four went up to Haley’s room, where Merriwell was given the necessary instructions in regard to the route, making arrangements with local theater and hall managers, securing accommodations at hotels, and getting notices into the newspapers.
“Here are the regular notices we have been using,” said Haley, as he brought a lot of typewritten slips and sheets out of his trunk and gave them to Merriwell. “You must jolly up the editors of the papers, and get all the space they will give us. A good advance man has a way of faking up items and stories that editors will accept as news, but which are advertisements of the best sort. Of course, you won’t be able to do that, as you haven’t had the experience, but you must work in as much of this stuff as possible. And you must see that our paper is up on every board available and in every good window that can be obtained. If you do your work well, it will be a case of hustle from the time you strike a town till you leave it.”
“And it’s my opinion that Merriwell is a hustler,” said Havener.
“Well, he has received his instructions. You must be up in time to catch the early train out of here, Merriwell. It leaves at 5:45 A. M. That’s all. I shall not get a chance to talk with you any more, for I must see that everything is settled up here for the move in the morning. We take the seven o’clock train, you know.”
Haley was hustling Merriwell out of the room, when Frank calmly observed:
“There’s one thing you have forgotten, sir.”
“Eh? What’s that?”
“Transportation.”
“Hum! So I did. Ah—Mr. Hawkins, will you kindly attend to that?”
Mr. Hawkins looked sour and doubtful. Mr. Haley was bland and persuasive. In three minutes he had Hawkins feeling for his pocketbook; in five minutes he had secured the needed cash. The “angel’s” leg had been gently pulled once more.
When Frank again appeared in the office, a young man sitting near a window dropped his paper and got up quickly, a look of pleasure on his face. He rushed forward with outstretched hand.
“My dear boy!” he cried; “how delighted I am to see you again!”
He grasped Frank’s hand and shook it heartily.
“I can’t see that you’ve changed a bit since you left college,” declared the stranger, familiarly. “You’re the same old Merriwell that was so popular and cut such a dash. At first I could not believe it when I heard you were here with a traveling theatrical company. Quite a change from college life, eh, dear boy?”
“Yes, it is a change,” admitted Frank, looking sharply at the familiar stranger and wondering where and when they had met before, for, although he had a remarkable memory for faces, there was nothing familiar about this man.
“I should say so!” the other rattled on. “This knocking around the country must seem strange. How are all the fellows at Yale? I suppose you hear from them regularly?”
“No,” confessed Frank, “I can’t say that I do.”
“Don’t? Well, well, well! Don’t hear from the fellows you used to chum with? That’s remarkable! But, then, I suppose it is the way of the world. Come have a drink with me, old man. We’ll be jolly and sociable.”
“I do not drink.”
“Eh? Don’t drink? How long since?”
“I never drank.”
The stranger seemed doubtful.
“Oh, I understand,” he nodded. “You were moderate in your drinking. You never swam in it, like some of the fellows.”
Frank flushed. There was something offensive about the stranger’s manner, and yet the fellow seemed to mean well.
“I tell you I never drank under any circumstances,” came rather sharply from Merry’s lips.
“Oh, I beg your pardon! You see, I didn’t know about that. No offense, I trust?”
“No, but——”
“I understand. I made a break. Just like me. But I know you’re the kind of a fellow to forget it. Have a cigar.”
A well-filled case was held toward Frank.
“I do not smoke.”
“Sworn off?”
“Never smoked.”
“The dickens!”
Now the stranger was astonished. He slowly extracted a cigar from the case and lighted it, all the while staring at Merry.
“And you went to Yale College!” he exclaimed. “Didn’t drink—didn’t smoke! And you were popular!”
“It can’t be that you knew very much about me, or you would have been aware that I neither drank nor smoked. You have the advantage of me in——”
The stranger broke into a jolly laugh.
“Of course I have. You had so many friends. I didn’t expect you to remember me. Never mind. Come down to the cardroom.”
“Don’t play cards.”
“What—again! Never did?”
“I have.”
“Oh! A relief! Then you have had one vice! Ha! ha! Don’t mind my jollying, old fellow. You’re a rare bird. Come down to the cardroom anyway. I want to talk to you where there won’t be so many rubbernecks around.”
He took Frank’s arm, and, somewhat puzzled and suspicious, Merry permitted the fellow to lead him downstairs to the cardroom.
When they were seated on opposite sides of a table, the stranger again urged Frank to have a drink.
“Take a seltzer lemonade, a ginger ale, anything to be sociable,” he urged.
Then, without waiting for Frank to consent, he pushed a button and called the barkeeper from the adjoining room. Merry was urged to drink something, and finally ordered ginger ale.
The stranger took rum.
“Best drink a man can take this time of year,” he declared. “Gives one a vile breath, but it keeps the system in good condition, and it will not knock a fellow out like whisky.”
“That is your opinion,” said Merriwell. “It is my opinion that either one will knock a fellow out quick enough if he sticks to it. It may do as a stimulant for a very aged person, or it may be absolutely necessary in some cases of sickness, but what any young man in good health can want of such stuff I can’t tell.”
“That’s because you never tried it. You’re not qualified to judge, Merriwell.”
“I have watched its effects on others, and never yet have I seen that it did a well person any good. On the other hand, I know of hundreds of instances where it has done them incalculable injury.”
“Oh, well, let’s not have a temperance lecture, Merriwell. I didn’t bring you down here for that. Here’s our drinks, and here’s success to you on the road in advance.”
Frank sipped his ginger ale, still keenly scanning his companion. Who was this fellow? and what was he driving at? It was plain he knew Merry was going out ahead of the show.
The stranger tossed his rum off at a gulp, following it with a “chaser” of water, and smacking his lips.
“Pretty good stuff, that,” he nodded. “Better’n one can get in most places out in this infernal country. I suppose you start out in the morning?”
Frank nodded.
“Which way you going? I suppose the manager has given you his bookings? Of course, you know all about his route and his plans?”
Again Merry nodded, but that was all.
“I may be traveling your way,” said the stranger. “We can go along together. That will be jolly. Which way did you say you were going?”
“I didn’t say,” answered Merriwell, dryly.
“Oh!”
The voluble stranger seemed brought to a stand for a moment, but he quickly recovered.
“So you didn’t say,” he laughed. “I suppose you are going west? There are some good towns in the western part of the State. Salacia, Dundee, Fardale, Crescent—all along the line are good show towns. Of course, Haley is going that way?”
“Now, look here, my friend,” said Frank, pointedly, “perhaps you will tell me why you are so anxious to know which way the show is going? It seems rather surprising to me that you should take such an interest in us and be so anxious to learn our route.”
The fellow was not ruffled in the least.
“Why,” he murmured, with uplifted eyebrows, “it’s simply because I happen to know you, and——”
“I don’t know you. I don’t remember ever seeing you before.”
“That’s not strange. Of course you forget many of the men you met at college.”
“You have been asking questions; now let me ask you a few?”
“My dear fellow——”
“First, what’s your name?”
At this moment Leslie Lawrence, the actor whose place Frank had filled, came strolling into the cardroom. He paused, stared at Merry’s companion, and uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“Hang me if it isn’t Delvin Riddle!” he exclaimed.