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Ahead of the Show Part 10

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As he spoke, realizing his extreme peril, he made one last, desperate effort, exerting all his strength, and succeeded in regaining his footing.

The struggle was renewed, but it seemed certain that it must result in the boy's defeat.

Suddenly, however, Farley released his hold on Al and rushed to the opposite side of the room, crying: "Interfere, will you?"

At first our hero could not understand this action, but in a moment he comprehended it.

The villain had actually been frightened by his own shadow, which was strongly outlined on the wall opposite. It might have been mistaken even by a sober man for an intruder; and in his excited condition Farley was certain that some one had come to the rescue of his intended victim.



Of course, he quickly discovered his mistake, but Al had now time to rush to the door, fling it open, and make his escape from the room.

Outside the door stood one of the hotel clerks, who had evidently just arrived upon the scene, and who demanded: "What's going on in there?"

Before Al could reply Farley rushed out of the room and started for the staircase. In a moment he had disappeared.

Al started to follow him, but the clerk seized him by the collar, shouting: "You won't get away quite as easily as all that, my fine fellow! Now, what's your little game?"

"Don't keep me standing here," cried the boy, trying to shake off the man's detaining grasp.

"That's all right," was the response of the zealous employee, who was under the impression that he had captured a hotel thief. "You just keep quiet. I've got you all right, and your pal won't get out of the house as easily as he thinks."

By the time Al had explained the situation so that the clerk understood it, Farley had had ample time to make his escape.

The man was somewhat crestfallen when he realized that he had made a mistake.

"No matter," he said, "the ruffian can't have gotten out. They'd be sure to detain him downstairs."

But, as they learned when they reached the office, Farley had eluded them. He had walked leisurely out, lighting a cigar, apparently in a perfectly easy, unconcerned frame of mind.

Having notified the police of what had occurred, Al returned to his room, and in a few minutes had retired for the night, having first a.s.sured himself that there were no other unbidden guests in the apartment.

The next morning he found a note awaiting him in the office. It read as follows: "You are a lucky youth, but your luck won't last forever. You don't lead a charmed life. I am on my mettle now, and I am going to settle you if I swing for it."

There was no signature, but of course Al knew well enough who the writer of the precious communication was.

He did not feel particularly worried; in fact, he had no time to worry just then, for, as he put the note in his pocket, the morning papers were placed in his hand by the clerk, with the remark: "Well, young man, you are a corker and no mistake."

CHAPTER XVI.

A LESSON IN JOURNALISM.

Al laughed.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"Read that interview with you in the Banner, and you'll find out. If you've been through half the startling adventures that the reporter says you have it is a wonder you are alive now."

Our hero opened the paper with a feeling of apprehension which proved to be well grounded.

Undoubtedly the interview would prove a good advertis.e.m.e.nt for the show, but it embarra.s.sed Al greatly; he would gladly have given a hundred dollars to have been able to withdraw it. But it was too late for that now; already it had, doubtless, been read by half Rockton.

The reporter had not kept faith with him.

"If I say anything about your sister," he had told him, "it will only be a pa.s.sing reference, couched in the most delicate terms."

But instead of that he had headed the article: A BOY WONDER!

AN EXTRAORDINARY CAREER! A LONG-LOST SISTER!

And there were other headlines that startled and dismayed Al.

According to them he had been a lion hunter, a champion football and baseball player, an exceptional sprinter, and the greatest boxer of his age that the world had ever known.

"You must have made yourself mighty solid with the Banner man to get an ad. like that," remarked the clerk. "It's simply great."

"I wish I hadn't succeeded in making myself quite so solid," groaned Al.

The clerk stared at him, asking in surprise: "Don't you like the notice?"

"Hardly."

"What's the matter with it?"

"I'm not here to advertise myself but the New York Comedy Company."

"You're the first advance agent I ever saw who wasn't trying to advertise himself at the expense, if necessary, of his show."

"That isn't my way of doing business."

"Well, this article will boom the show, and don't you forget it. But if you don't like the headlines what will you think of the interview?"

Al sank into a chair and began a hasty perusal of the article.

He was dismayed at the reporter's audacity; the information he had given the man had been so altered and distorted that he could only dimly recognize himself in the hero of the newspaper man's weird fancy.

The interview was in the highest degree complimentary--at least from its writer's standpoint; it was evident that the reporter had written it in a friendly spirit, and with the intention of giving its subject a good "send off."

The portion that referred to his sister annoyed Al the most. It was near the end of the two-column article, and read as follows: "But the life of the hero of this strange, though strictly authentic, tale has not been entirely one of adventurous pleasure. Deep in his heart he carries a sorrow about which he was extremely reticent to speak to the Banner reporter. In referring to it this lad, who has faced dangers from which many a stalwart man would shrink appalled, wept like a child. Years ago he lost an idolized sister. She was taken from the home of which she was the pride, not by the hand of death, but by that of a kidnaper. The story is a most romantic one. The little child was playing one morning on the sloping lawn in front of her father's palatial country seat in Tarrytown, adjoining that of the late Jay Gould. Her nurse was called away for a few moments. During the woman's absence the child disappeared. What became of it? Alas! to this day no one save the ruthless destroyer of the happiness of this once peaceful home knows. It was rumored that a rejected suitor of the little girl's mother was the villain, but nothing was ever proven against him. The father of the child died of a broken heart, and his wife would, without doubt, have soon followed him to the grave had it not been for her boy--the subject of this necessarily incomplete article. For his sake she resolved to live. When he was but four years of age she made him promise her that he would devote his life to solving the mystery of his sister's fate."

Al looked up from the paper, his face white with anger.

"The villain!" he exclaimed.

The clerk looked up in surprise.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Have you read this thing?" Al demanded.

"Why, yes."

"The part that speaks of my long-lost sister?"

"All of it. Of course, it's a fake, but nine people in ten will swallow it whole."

"I don't want anyone to believe it."

"You don't?"

"Of course I don't."

"Then why did you grant him the interview?"

"Because he insisted, and because he promised me that everything should be printed just as I gave it to him."

The clerk laughed.

"It's evident," he said, "that you have not enjoyed a very extensive acquaintance with reporters."

"I've known several, but none like this fellow."

"He's considered one of the smartest men in his line in the State."

"Well, I'd like to interview him just now."

"What would you say?"

"I'd at least give him my opinion of his methods."

"You wouldn't have a chance."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You have met him once, and you ought to know. Why, he wouldn't give you an opportunity to get in a word edgewise. Anyhow, I don't see what you are kicking about; you've got the best ad. of the season free of cost. h.e.l.lo! here comes your reporter now. If you want to go for him you have your chance."

While the clerk was speaking the little reporter of the Banner who had interviewed Al only a few hours before entered.

The boy strode toward him.

"You're just the man I want to see," he began.

The scribe pretended not to notice the look of anger in his face. Seizing his hand and holding it tightly, he said: "And you're just the person I want to see. There are one or two little mistakes in that interview of ours, and I was looking for you to find out whether the fault lies with you or me. But the article shows up well, doesn't it?"

"I----"

"Don't say another word."

"But----"

"I know exactly what you are going to say, but it will be all right next time. It was the fault of the compositor that your name was spelled wrong."

"I wasn't----"

"I was going to ask you whether it was three men or only two that you knocked out at that sc.r.a.p referred to in the second column; I'm afraid I got that wrong. But never mind, I gave you the benefit of the doubt, anyhow. He! he! he!"

"No such incident ever occurred, and I----"

"Tut! tut!" interrupted the reporter, with a shocked look. "What made you tell me the yarn, then?"

"I----"

"Never mind, we'll have to let it go now; and, after all, it doesn't make much difference. But you ought to be more particular in talking to reporters in the future, my dear young friend."

"If I----"

"Oh, that's all right---- No thanks. h.e.l.lo! there goes a man I've got to see right now. S'long!"

And the scribe rushed out, leaving Al staring helplessly after him.

"Isn't he a dandy?" said the hotel clerk, admiringly. "You'll never catch him. The traditional Frenchman's flea was a graven image compared with that fellow. In your line of business you can profit by the lesson he has just given you. He is an artist in 'bluffing.'"

Before Al could reply Mr. Wattles entered the office and approached him with outstretched hand.

CHAPTER XVII.

"I WANT YOU."

"I thought I should find you here," the manager said. "I want to offer you my congratulations before I say another word."

"Your congratulations upon what, Mr. Wattles?" asked Al.

"Why, upon the way you have worked things here, of course. I heard about it before I left Boomville this morning. That interview is out of sight."

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