Ahead of the Show Part 7

CHAPTER XI.

IN PERIL.

The mayor stared at Al.

"You have taken this engagement for your mother's sake?" he said. "I don't understand."

"I didn't say that," the boy replied. "I took it because I believed the work was just the sort I could do well. At any rate, it was just the sort I wanted to do. But I also thought that it might give me a good chance to look for my sister. What can I ever do if I stay here in Boomville? Nothing. I will go out into the world; and who knows----"

He paused, perhaps a little offended, for the mayor was smiling.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, my boy," Mr. Anderson said, straightening out his features, "but your hopefulness reminds me of my own when I started out in life. Alas! those dreams!"

"But you succeeded, sir."

"Yes, I succeeded, but in a far different line from that I marked out for myself. But"--in a changed tone--"it is later than I thought, and I must reluctantly say good-by. I am sorry you will not take the position I have offered you; but I cannot say that I respect you less for having refused it. When do you leave town?"

"At noon."

"And it is nearly eleven now. Well, my boy, let me hear from you once in a while; and be sure that you will always have a friend in John Anderson."

"Thank you, sir. Good-morning."

And Al backed toward the door.

"Wait a moment," the mayor cried, suddenly producing a sealed envelope from his pocket. "I want you to take this. Open it at your leisure. I trust the contents will prove acceptable to you. And now, good-day, good-day."

Al could not help thinking that the manner in which his companion almost shoved him out of the room was due to a fear that he would open the envelope before he got out. But he put it in his pocket, saying: "I am very much obliged to you for your kindness to me, sir."

"The obligation is on the other side, Mr. Allston," was the reply. "But good-day--and good luck to you."

It was after eleven when Al reached Mr. Wattles' hotel.

"I was beginning to be a little nervous about you," said the manager. "But I said to myself: 'I don't believe he is one of the kind that go back on an agreement.'"

"And you were right, Mr. Wattles."

"You know you must leave by the noon train."

"I am all ready, sir."

"Our next stand, as you are aware, is Rockton. It has the reputation of being a bad show town, and if you can create a furore there you will do well."

"I'll try, sir."

"There is one morning paper there; do what you can with it."

"I will. If you could only persuade Mrs. Anderson to go there! She was born in Rockton, and the whole population would turn out to see her."

"I thought of that, and tried it. But the mayor wouldn't hear of it. But he is going to let his wife appear here again to-night, all the same."

"So I have heard."

"Eh? Are the bills out already?"

"I guess not. I have just come from the mayor's office."

"Ah! indeed? Well, that's right; it's policy to keep in with such people."

Al's face flushed.

"I didn't go there as a matter of policy," he said, "but only because I promised the mayor yesterday that I would."

"Well, he ought to do something handsome for you in return for the great service you did him."

"I think he did quite enough in giving me that ring last night. My mother says it must be worth at least five hundred dollars, and she knows something about such things."

"It is worth more than that. But Anderson ought to do more for you. Why doesn't he get you a job under the city with a fat salary and nothing to do?"

"That's just what he offered me this morning," laughed Al.

The manager's jaw fell.

"Then I shall lose you before long, of course?"

"Not on account of that political job."

"Eh?"

"I refused it."

"You did?"

"Of course. I want a job where there is something to do."

"Well, you've got it with me," said Mr. Wattles, evidently gratified. "But he might have given you a check."

"Maybe he did," said Al, reminded of the envelope that the mayor had handed him just before he left the office.

He took it from his pocket, tore it open and drew from it a long, narrow strip of paper.

The manager, who was looking over the boy's shoulder, exclaimed: "Well, he has done the handsome thing, and no mistake."

The check was for five thousand dollars.

"I won't take it!" cried Al.

"Yes, you will take it!" said Mr. Wattles, very emphatically. "To return it would be to offend him very deeply."

"But----"

"But you must be starting for the train. Come, I'll walk to the depot with you. I have a number of points to give you."

When they parted, the manager was better pleased than ever with Al. His "points" did not seem to be needed by the boy; a knowledge of and adaptability to the business seemed to have been born in him.

"You're all right," said Mr. Wattles, slapping his new advance agent on the shoulder just before they parted. "I consider a big house in Rockton a dead-sure thing."

Al was not quite so confident, however. In Boomville circ.u.mstances had favored him, but he could not hope for the same luck in Rockton; there he would have to prove his fitness to be the advance agent of the New York Comedy Company by tact and hard work.

In conversation with a gentleman on the train, he learned a fact of which Mr. Wattles had not informed him--that Barnum's circus was at Rockton.

"There won't be a corporal's guard at your show," said his informant, unsympathetically. "Everybody for miles around has been saving up to go to the circus. Other shows will be simply not in it."

As if to add to Al's annoyance, the circus parade was going on when he reached Rockton; at any other time he would have stopped and looked at it, but he was not in the mood now.

The sidewalks near the depot were crowded with eager sightseers. Al forced his way through their ranks, and attempted to cross the street, heedless of the warning cries of those who saw him.

He had reached the middle of the street when he attracted the attention of one of the elephants, an animal with a national reputation for viciousness. The beast quickened its pace, reached the boy, seized him in its trunk and raised him high in the air, with the evident intention of das.h.i.+ng him to the pavement.

A cry of horror rose from the crowd. Apparently Al was doomed to a frightful death.

CHAPTER XII.

INTERVIEWED.

The elephant that had seized Al was, as we have said, well known for his viciousness. He had killed two keepers and injured half a score of persons. One of his escapades had occurred quite recently, and was fresh in the minds of most of the witnesses of his attack on the boy.

There was an almost simultaneous cry from the onlookers, followed by a dead silence. The animal's small eyes twinkled viciously. It was evident enough that in crossing his path Al had excited his ire, and that it was his intention to revenge himself in a characteristic manner.

Suddenly a sharp cry broke the silence. It was the voice of the elephant's keeper, who had been lagging a little behind, but who now came rus.h.i.+ng up, shouting a command to his charge in a language unintelligible to most of his hearers. To all of them, perhaps, except the animal; it was plain enough that he understood it.

His manner changed. He held his captive poised in the air a moment, then dropped him.

Al fell heavily to the pavement directly under the feet of the beast. A new plan of revenge evidently suggested itself to the elephant. He was about to plant one of his huge feet on the boy's chest when the keeper again gave utterance to the same cry of command.

The warning had its effect; the animal stepped over his intended victim, not touching him.

In another moment Al had sprung out of harm's way.

It was an exciting scene. Men were shouting, children crying and women sobbing.

One nervous, hysterical lady, whom the boy had never seen before in his life, clasped him tightly in her arms, and wept convulsively on his shoulder.

Al was, perhaps, the coolest person in the crowd. Disengaging himself from the embrace of his new-found friend, he said: "There's nothing to cry about, madam; I'm all right."

"You're sure you're not hurt?" sobbed the lady, scarcely knowing what she was saying.

"Not in the least; not so much as scratched."

"You've had a mighty narrow escape, all the same, young man," said the elephant's keeper--the procession had come to a standstill, and many of the employees had crowded around the boy. "This ought to be a lesson to you not to try to cross a circus parade again."

"It will be," said Al, with a smile. "At any rate, I shall be careful not to get too near the elephants."

Just then a nervous, bustling little man with a notebook in his hand forced his way through the crowd to where Al was standing.

"I represent the Rockton Daily Banner," he announced. "Please give me your name, sir."

"Certainly," replied the boy, with an eye to business. "I am the advance agent of Wattles' New York Comedy Company, which plays here to-morrow night, appearing in----"

"That's all right," the reporter interrupted. "I know what it appears in. But your name, please."

"It is Allen Allston."

"What! not the youth who so heroically saved the life of the child of Mayor Anderson, of Boomville? Not the same who was presented with the ring at the opera house last night?"

By this time the circus parade had been resumed; but, in the immediate vicinity of the scene of the adventure we have recorded, it excited less interest than the interview between Al and the reporter.

The boy colored and hesitated.

"Yes," went on the Banner man, "you must be the same. Why, there were two columns about you in the paper this morning. You seem born for adventure. You being the hero of the hour, your escape of this morning will excite great interest. I can make at least a column of it. Here, Mr. Allston, come with me. We must get out of this crowd; then we can have a talk."

Al resigned himself to the inevitable, and forced his way through the crowd, arm in arm with the reporter.

While he shrank from having his personal affairs made public, he also had the interests of his employer at heart; he saw that the exciting incident of the morning might be used as an advertis.e.m.e.nt for the show, and he decided to sacrifice his feelings and let the ambitious and energetic reporter have his own way.

"We'll step in here," said the Banner man, leading the way into the lobby of a hotel. "Really, it is lucky for you that this thing happened; it can't fail to boom your show. And it needs booming, too, let me tell you, for the circus will be here to-morrow night, and is pretty sure to gather in about all the surplus cash that will be left in the neighborhood after to-day's performances."

"Still," said Al, "my company is a strong attraction."

"Under ordinary circ.u.mstances, yes; but not when the circus is in town. Still, we'll see what can be done. I've heard a good deal about you during the last twenty-four hours, and, honestly, I'd like to help you. You give me all the most startling facts in your career, and I'll write 'em up in good style."

"But," smiled Al, "there has never been anything startling in my career."

"Eh?" gasped the reporter. "What did you say?"