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No. 77
Bound-to-Win Library
[Illustration: Cover.]
AHEAD OF THE SHOW
Or
The Adventures of Al Allston, Advance Agent
By
FRED THORPE,
Author of "Blind Luck," "The Boy in Black,"
"Chris, the Comedian," "Git Up and Git,"
"Walt, the Wonder Worker," etc....
[Illustration]
Street and Smith, Publishers
238 William Street, New York
Copyright, 1897
By Norman L. Munro
Ahead of the Show
CONTENTS
I. AL MAKES APPLICATION. 5
II. AL TALKS BUSINESS. 12
III. AL'S SCHEME. 17
IV. AL TO THE RESCUE. 24
V. AL CLAIMS HIS REWARD. 29
VI. ANOTHER ROCK AHEAD. 35
VII. THE DEBUT. 41
VIII. A STARTLING SITUATION. 47
IX. A CLOSE CALL. 53
X. AN INTERVIEW WITH THE MAYOR. 61
XI. IN PERIL. 67
XII. INTERVIEWED. 73
XIII. A STROKE OF LUCK. 80
XIV. AL'S AD. 87
XV. SAVED BY A SHADOW. 91
XVI. A LESSON IN JOURNALISM. 97
XVII. "I WANT YOU." 103
XVIII. MR. MARMADUKE MERRY. 109
XIX. A STARTLING ACKNOWLEDGMENT. 115
XX. THE LOCKET. 121
XXI. BROTHER AND SISTER. 127
XXII. AN AWFUL CATASTROPHE. 133
XXIII. AN EVENTFUL NIGHT. 139
XXIV. A CLEW. 145
XXV. ON THE TRACK. 151
XXVI. "DR. FERGUSON." 157
XXVII. AN UNLUCKY ERROR. 163
XXVIII. AN EXCITING INTERVIEW. 169
XXIX. A DANGEROUS JOB AHEAD. 175
XXX. HARD LUCK. 181
XXXI. A WOMAN'S VENGEANCE. 187
XXXII. AND LAST. 193
AHEAD OF THE SHOW.
CHAPTER I.
AL MAKES APPLICATION.
"If I had that fellow here I'd make him wish he'd never heard the name
of Augustus Wattles. And I'll do it some day, too."
The manager and proprietor of Wattles' New York Comedy Company was very,
very "mad." His naturally florid face was redder than usual, and his
fists were clinched in a manner that augured no good to the "fellow"
referred to, had that individual chanced to appear upon the scene at
this precise moment.
He stood at the door of the Boomville Opera House, in company with the
local manager, Mr. Cyrus Perley, who seemed in some degree to share his
discomfiture and anger.
A group of stragglers listened in silence to their conversation, gazing
at them with that peculiar and unaccountable reverence that many people
feel for members of the theatrical profession.
"It's pretty tough," said Mr. Perley, "but it isn't my fault."
"I know it isn't. Well, this is the last time that loafer will play that
trick on me. He thinks that because I have been easy with him in the
past there is no end to my patience. I'll show him that he is making the
mistake of his life."
"Of course, you will discharge him?"
"You had better believe I will. A healthy sort of advance agent he is!
Think of my bringing my company to a town of the importance of
Boomville, to find that absolutely no advance work has been done, that
my advance agent, to whom I pay a fancy salary, has not even showed his
face in the town."
"I suppose he has succumbed to his old complaint?" said Mr. Perley.
"Of course; he is drunk beyond the shadow of a doubt, and may not show
up again for a week. Well, when he does, he'll meet with a warm
reception from me. We ought to have had an eight-hundred-dollar house
to-night, and now we'll be lucky if we take in half that amount."
"I don't expect we'll do as well as that. It wouldn't have made so much
difference under ordinary circumstances, but, as luck will have it,
they've got the strongest attraction of the season at the other
house--the 'Crack of Doom' Company. You know that's a big puller
everywhere."
"Sure. They have a railway collision, a tank of real water, a buzz saw
and two real lunatics in the insane asylum scene."
"Yes, and their advance man has worked the show up in great shape here.
According to him, the leading lady lost nine thousand dollars' worth of
diamonds on her way here, and the soubrette is going to marry Chauncey
Depew. And they give souvenirs to-night in honor of the five hundredth
performance of the piece."
"They've been giving that five hundredth performance in every town
they've played in for the last month; and their souvenirs are not worth
over fifty cents a gross."
"All very true, but the public will have 'em. I hoped your advance man
would have some taking counter-attraction."
"So he did have, but---- Oh, well, it's no use talking about that.
What's done can't be helped, but I won't be left in this way again.
Where is the nearest telegraph office?"
"On the next block. What are you going to do?"
"Wire to New York for a new advance agent. I happen to know of an A1 man
who is out of an engagement. There are two or three others after him,
but I guess I can make it worth his while to go with me. I won't get
left in this way again, you can bet your boots!"
"That's all right," growled Mr. Perley, "but it doesn't help out the
present engagement any."
"No, but we are joint sufferers in that, and we may as well grin and
bear it."
And the irate manager of the New York Comedy Company started for the
telegraph office with fire in his eyes and a look of determination on
his face.
Neither he nor Mr. Perley had observed the presence in the little group
of listeners to their conversation of a rather good-looking,
well-dressed boy of about eighteen.
This lad did not lose a word of the excited discussion, and, as the
manager started to walk away, he muttered:
"This is the chance I have been looking for; I won't let the opportunity
slip. It doesn't seem as if there would be much hope for me, but there's
no harm in trying, anyhow."
He followed Mr. Wattles, and just before that gentleman reached the
telegraph office he tapped him on the shoulder.
The manager turned quickly. When he saw the boy, he asked, impatiently:
"Well, what is it?"
"Can I speak with you a few minutes, sir?"
"Not now, not now."
Mr. Wattles was about to resume his walk, but the boy laid a detaining
hand on his arm.
"I want to see you on business, sir."
"You have business with me?"
"Important business, sir."
"Well, well, I'll see you in a few minutes; I've got to send an
important telegram now."
"But I want to see you before you send that telegram."
"Before I send the telegram? Why?"
"Because I think I can prove to you that it is not necessary to wire to
New York at all."
"Eh? Why, how did you know that I was going to wire to New York?"
"I overheard what you said to Mr. Perley in front of the opera house
just now."
"Humph! I was excited, and spoke a little louder than I ought. Well,
why do you think it will not be necessary for me to send the telegram?"
"Because I am sure you can find just the person you want right here in
Boomville."
"An advance agent to be picked up offhand in this place? That would be
too much luck. What is your man's name?"
"Allen Allston."
"I never heard of him. What company was he with last?"
"He has never been with any company, sir, but----"
Mr. Wattles surveyed the boy with a look of supreme disgust.
"Do you suppose for one moment," he interrupted, "that I am going to
take an inexperienced jay from a town like this and send him ahead of an
organization like Wattles' New York Comedy Company? Well, hardly. I've
got to have an experienced man."
"And you're going to telegraph for one now, sir?"
"This minute."
"But suppose you can't get the man you want--will you talk with me then,
sir?"
"Er--yes, in that case you might send your friend to see me, though it
seems nonsense. But I shall get my man all right."
"I suppose you are going to request an immediate answer to your
telegram, Mr. Wattles?"
"I am; I shall get it within an hour, in all probability."
"Where can I find you after you have received it?"
"At the hotel next door. You are a persistent young rascal; your friend
has a good advocate in you."
The boy smiled.
"I am the best friend he has in the world," he said.
"Well, if you are you had better advise him to stick to farming, or
whatever he is doing, and keep out of the theatrical business; we have
too many farmers in it already."
"He wouldn't take the advice, sir."
Mr. Wattles laughed as he entered the telegraph office.
"If the boy's friend has got as much 'go' as he has," he muttered, "he
might do something in the business."
In a few minutes the message had been sent. An hour and a half later a
messenger entered the lobby of the hotel with a telegram.
"For me?" questioned the manager, who had been impatiently pacing the
floor for the last twenty minutes.
"Yes, sir."
Mr. Wattles tore open the envelope.
A muttered exclamation escaped his lips as he hurriedly perused the
message.
"Well, sir?" said a voice at his elbow.
Turning, he confronted the lad with whom he had had the brief interview
which we have recorded.
"You here? Well, you do mean business."
"Is your offer accepted, sir?" the boy asked.
"Confound it, no! The man I wanted signed yesterday with another
manager. Well, send your friend round and I'll talk with him."
"He is here, sir."
"Where?"
"I am Allen Allston."