AL TALKS BUSINESS.
Mr. Wattles stared at the boy a moment in speechless surprise, then
burst into a loud laugh.
"You don't mean to say," he almost gasped, "that you made that
application for yourself?"
"That's just what I mean to say, sir," replied the lad, quietly.
"Why, you must be crazy!"
"I don't think I am."
"You are only a boy."
"I'll get over that in time, Mr. Wattles; and besides, that fact is no
proof that I am crazy."
"Oh, pshaw! I can't stand here bandying words with you."
Al was not in the least taken aback.
"That's just what I was thinking," he said.
"What?"
"That we had been standing up too long. Let's sit down."
"Well," said the manager, "you have cheek enough, anyhow."
"Cheek is necessary for an advance agent, isn't it, sir?" laughed the
boy.
"Yes, but--oh, really, this is ridiculous, you know!"
"What is ridiculous?"
"Your applying for this position."
"Why is it ridiculous?"
"Who ever heard of a boy advance agent?"
"That's just the point. Nobody ever did, and it will be a complete
novelty, and a big ad. for the show."
Mr. Wattles gazed at the boy almost admiringly.
"Well, you are a corker!" he exclaimed.
"A good advance agent ought to be a corker, oughtn't he, sir?"
"I suppose so--yes."
"Shan't we sit down and talk the matter over?"
"Yes."
And the manager sank into a convenient chair, gazing at his youthful
companion with an expression indicative of bewilderment.
"I've got him now sure," murmured the lad, but his companion did not
hear him; Al did not intend that he should.
When they were both seated the boy said:
"Now, sir, you want an advance agent, and I want a position. It is lucky
we met."
"Yes," interrupted Mr. Wattles, "but what the mischief do you know about
the business of an advance agent?"
"A lot," was the calm reply.
"How did you learn it?"
"By reading and observation."
"Nonsense! You might as well talk about learning to swing on a trapeze
by reading and observation."
"There's a big difference, sir."
"Not much."
"Well, I've always thought I should like to do work of that sort, and I
think I could do it well."
"Stage-struck, eh?"
"Not a bit of it, Mr. Wattles. Now, will you listen to me a few moments,
sir?"
"Go ahead."
And the manager assumed an air of resignation.
"I generally keep my eyes open," began the boy, "and I have had a chance
to watch the movements of most of the theatrical people who come to this
town, particularly the advance agents."
"Why the advance agents in particular?" interrupted Mr. Wattles.
"Because I have been in the editorial office of the Boomville _Herald_,
and have had a chance to see how they work the press. Some of them are
very slick, but I think that if I had a little experience I should be as
slick as any of them."
"Ah," said the manager, "that's the point. You haven't had experience."
"Well, I've got to begin some time, sir. If all managers had talked like
you the race of advance agents would have been extinct long ago."
"There's something in that," laughed Mr. Wattles.
"There's lots in it."
The manager of the New York Comedy Company surveyed his companion for a
few moments without speaking.
"My boy, I rather like you," he said, at last.
"Well, that's one point in my favor, sir," said Al.
"I'd like to give you a chance, but I really do not see how I can."
"Why can't you?"
"You must remember that the New York Comedy Company is not a common,
fly-by-night organization, but a first-class enterprise. I have put a
good many dollars into the thing, and I can't afford to experiment. If
so much did not depend upon the result, if I were running a cheap side
show, I might give you the trial you ask, but----"
"I wouldn't have anything to do with any such show," interrupted the
boy. "I don't intend to be that sort of advance agent. But I can
understand how you feel, sir."
"Then you can also understand how impossible it is for me to engage your
services."
"Oh, no, I can't understand that at all, Mr. Wattles. Now let me ask you
a question."
"What is it?"
"I heard you tell Mr. Perley that you did not expect there would be four
hundred dollars in the house to-night."
"That's what I said. I shall be agreeably disappointed if there is as
much as that."
"Yet the opera house will hold twelve hundred dollars."
"I see you are posted, my boy."
"I am. Now, Mr. Wattles, it is a little out of the line of an advance
agent's work, but, just to show you that I have a little snap and
business ability, I will guarantee to fill the opera house to its utmost
capacity to-night, if you will agree to give me a chance as advance
agent after that."
"Do you know what you are talking about?"
And the manager stared in renewed amazement at the youth.
"I do."
"You will undertake to fill the house to-night, in spite of the
disadvantages under which we are laboring?"
"The 'Standing Room Only' sign will be displayed before eight o'clock."
"Well, what is your scheme?"
"You will agree to follow my suggestions?"
"Not until I hear them."
"If you don't like them you will agree not to repeat anything I may say
to you?"
"Certainly."
"Then I'll give you my idea. I see you are getting ready to guy me,
sir," as a rather cynical smile appeared upon the manager's face.
"Oh, no."
"You don't think I can knock out such a strong opposition as the 'Crack
of Doom' Company, do you?"
"I do not."
"Well, I'll show you that I can, and get you not only a full house, but
the elite of the place."
"Well, well," interrupted Mr. Wattles, impatiently, "have done with
preliminaries and let me know how you propose to accomplish all this."