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