Ahead of the Show Part 6

Then turning to Al, he added: "Boy, I believe we have made a mistake. That fellow is the real thief."

"I don't know about that," said our hero, "but I do know I'm not."

"If he isn't the thief, what motive could he have had in accusing an innocent person?"

"Perhaps it is some one who has a grudge against me."

"It must be an awful grudge to induce him to lay such a plot as that against you. Do you suspect anyone?"

"I'd rather not mention any names," said Al.

Here an old farmer, one of the three or four who had removed their masks, stepped forward.

"Don't let this here boy fule yer," he said. "I b'lieve he's one o' the gang. Mark my word, it'll turn aout so."

"You think so, do you, Mr. Chadwick?" said Al, quietly, looking the old man full in the face.

"Yeou know me, dew yeou?"

"Yes, and you ought to know me. Have you forgotten Allen Allston?"

The farmer gasped for breath.

"I'll be derned ef it ain't Jack Allston's boy!" he exclaimed. "Why, o' course I know yeou."

"I told you my name before."

"I wuz so 'xcited that I didn't take notice. I wuz so sure, yeou see, thet we hed the right one. Boys"--turning to the others--"I'll swear thet this here lad don't know no more 'baout who stole them hosses than we do. I know all his folks, an' there ain't a dishonest hair in the heads o' enny o' them. I'd ha' know'd him at fust, but I ain't seen him fer a year or more, an' he's grow'd. An' besides, my eyesight ain't what it used ter be. Boys, we've hed a narrer escape from committin' a murder." The men now crowded round Al and shook his hands, and apologized for their rough treatment of him.

While they were thus engaged the three who had gone in pursuit of Al's accuser returned.

"Ain't you got him?" cried Farmer Chadwick.

"No, he gave us the slip. The moon has gone under a cloud, and in the darkness he got away. But we'll catch him yet."

Then the man turned to Al.

"Boy," he queried, "have you any suspicion as to who the fellow is?"

Our hero hesitated, then he replied: "Yes, I have."

"Who do you think he is?" cried two or three of the men together.

"I would rather not say," replied the boy.

"Why?"

"Because I might be wronging an innocent man."

"But we want to find the thief."

"I cannot help you do that. If the man is the one I think he may be, he did not steal the horses."

"Why did he accuse you, then?" demanded one of the party.

"Merely to satisfy a private grudge."

"Then he ought to be found and punished; so why do you try to s.h.i.+eld him?"

"Because it is my private affair," replied Al, quietly. "And because I do not like your way of administering what you call justice. See how near you came to making a mistake to-night. But how did you run across the fellow who said I was the thief?"

"I'll tell you," replied the spokesman, rather sheepishly. "A few of us were in a saloon in Boomville the early part of the evening. We had indulged in a few drinks, and we must have talked a little louder than we realized, for this fellow overheard us telling how we were going to start a search for the horse thief to-night and string him up if we found him. He came and told us that he could lead us to him. Well, he talked as if he knew what he was saying, and---- Well, you know the rest."

"So," said Al, "you took the word of a barroom loafer, or worse, on a matter of so much importance as that."

"We were excited and had drunk a little too much."

"Well, it seems to me that you had better leave the future management of the business to the proper authorities," suggested Al.

"Maybe you're right," admitted the man he addressed. "Well, you won't say anything about this night's affair to anyone?"

"I shall say nothing that can harm you. The thing shall not be made public through me."

"We'll take your word for that. And now, get into the wagon, and you shall be driven home."

CHAPTER X.

AN INTERVIEW WITH THE MAYOR.

Al's ride home after his queer adventure was an uneventful one. He was glad enough to reach the solitude of his own room. Although his body was tired, his mind seemed abnormally active, and for at least two hours he lay tossing sleeplessly on his bed, reviewing not only the exciting events of the day, but much of his past life.

We have thus far said nothing of our hero's past, nor shall we now; we will let him tell the story himself, as he did the next morning when he visited the mayor's office.

Ten o'clock was the time Mr. Anderson had appointed for their interview, but Al was off hand a little before that hour. Mr. Wattles had told him that he must leave Boomville for the next town at noon, and he knew he had no time to waste.

The mayor received him cordially.

"I'm delighted to see you, my dear young friend," was his greeting, as he grasped the boy's hand. "We had a grand success last night, did we not? And it was all due to your efforts. If it had not been for your persistency Mrs. Anderson would not have appeared."

"Then you are not sorry that she played, sir?" questioned Al, somewhat surprised at the mayor's enthusiasm.

"Sorry? Not a bit of it! Why, it was one of the grandest triumphs in the history of the American stage."

Al had his own opinion on that point, but he did not express it; he only said: "The audience seemed to be very much pleased with Mrs. Anderson's work."

"Pleased! Of course they were pleased. How could they help it? As for myself, I was as much delighted as I was surprised. I have given my consent to Mrs. Anderson's second appearance to-night."

"Indeed, sir?"

"Yes. Mr. Wattles came to me and, in the most respectful manner, asked the favor. You see, the woman who has been playing the part was so angered by my wife's success that she refused to appear. I could do nothing but yield, especially as Mr. Wattles a.s.sures me that there was a widespread feeling of disappointment on the part of those who were unable to gain admission last night. Mr. Wattles, my lad, considers Mrs. Anderson one of the greatest geniuses on the American stage; he told me so this morning."

Al could not help thinking that the "foxy" manager was overdoing the thing a little; but he did not express any opinion. In fact, Mr. Anderson did not give him a chance to do so, for he went on as soon as he had caught his breath: "But never mind about all that now. Some day you will doubtless remember with pride that you a.s.sisted at the debut of Mrs. Anderson; but let us now talk of yourself."

"We might find a more interesting subject, sir," suggested Al.

"It is like your modesty to say so, but I cannot agree with you. Now, my lad, I have taken a great interest in you, and I am going to do what I can to help you along in the world. What do you most need now, Mr. Allston?"

"Good health, sir," laughed Al; "or, rather, a continuance of it. I have about everything else I want."

"Well, I am about to offer you something that you haven't got."

"What is that, sir?"

"A position under the city government, a position with very little work and a good salary. It has never been held by anyone as young as you before, but I haven't the slightest doubt that you will be able to discharge its duties satisfactorily. In fact, it is almost a sinecure."

"You are very kind, sir," said Al, as the mayor paused, "but I cannot accept the position."

"Eh? You cannot? Why not?"

"For two reasons, sir."

"What are they?"

"One is that the position you are kind enough to offer to me is not the kind I am looking for. I am not looking for an easy berth. I want a place where there will be plenty to do."

The mayor stared at the boy incredulously.

"Well," he said, "you are an original. And what is your other reason for refusing?"

"It is that I have a good place now, sir."

"Ah, indeed? What is it?"

"Mr. Wattles has engaged me as advance agent for his company."

Mr. Anderson's face clouded.

"And you would rather travel with a show than have an easy, respectable position here at home?"

"I would, sir."

"Well, that is a matter of taste. I should prefer the berth I have just offered you."

"I hope you are not offended, Mr. Anderson?" said Al, a little diffidently.

"Offended! No, no, my boy; but I think you are making a mistake."

"The end will show, sir."

"Yes, yes, the end will show. Well, I can't help feeling an interest in you, not only because you rescued my child, but because you seem to me to be a rather unusual lad. Do you mind answering me a few questions? Believe me, I shall not ask them out of mere idle curiosity."

"Ask as many as you like, sir."

"Do you live in Boomville?"

"A little way out of the town, sir."

"Are your parents living?"

"Only my mother."

"And your father--has he been dead long?"

"He died before I was born, sir."

"Can it be that your father was John Allston?"

"That was his name, sir."

"Why, good gracious!" exclaimed the mayor, with a new interest, "I knew him. It was years ago, and we were never intimate, but I had a speaking acquaintance with him. Let me see, was there not something peculiar about the manner of his death? I remember hearing something said about it at the time, but it was so long ago that I cannot remember just what it was."

"People said, sir," replied Al, "and I guess they were right, that my father died of a broken heart."

"I remember now!" interrupted Mr. Anderson. "His child, your sister, was stolen. Her loss was such a blow to him that he only survived the shock a few months."

"Yes, sir; that is true."

"It is a sad story. Was your sister never found?"

"No, sir."

"Nor any clew to the mystery gained?"

"Nothing of any importance, sir. It was suspected that her nurse had something to do with the affair, and she was shadowed for a long time. But nothing was ever learned."

"I can sympathize with your poor father and mother, my boy," said the mayor, with more emotion than Al had seen him manifest before. "I can understand his feelings. But the depth of a mother's love is something we of the grosser s.e.x cannot ever quite comprehend. I suppose your mother has never entirely recovered from the blow."

"She never has, Mr. Anderson; and it is in the hope that I may help her to do so that I have taken this engagement with Mr. Wattles' company."