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 rushing 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 advertisement 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 circumstances, 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?"
Al repeated the statement.
"An advance agent without a startling career!" said the _Banner_ man.
"Why, such a thing was never heard of before. As a rule we have to cut
out nine-tenths of the blood-curdling incidents in advance agents'
careers, and even then what is left sounds like an Arabian Nights
story."
Al laughed.
"Well," he said, "then I am a remarkable exception. Isn't that a
startling fact?"
"That may help things out a little."
"Besides, it is not myself that I want to boom, but the New York Comedy
Company."
"Well, you are a _rara avis_! But by booming yourself you may at the
same time boom the show. Now, tell me all about yourself first. You see,
the public is more interested about you personally than about Mr.
Wattles' company. But I'll work in a good notice for the show, too. Now,
then, please tell me where you were born, when--and all the rest of it."
Within ten minutes the reporter was in possession of most of the facts
of Al's "career"; and, as the boy had said, there was nothing very
startling in the story. But when the _Banner_ man had wormed the fact
out of the lad that his sister had been lost or stolen in infancy, he
exclaimed:
"Why, that's just what I want. A romance in your life! Nothing could be
better. A long-lost sister! That will show up in great shape in the
heading."
"But," interrupted Al, coloring, "I don't want anything said about it.
Please omit any reference to my family."
"Well," said the reporter, "just as you say; but it is easy to see that
you have not been an advance agent very long. Why, my dear boy, the
article which I am going to write will be copied all over the country,
and might be the means of restoring your sister to you. But there,
there"--as Al was about to speak--"I'll consider your wishes in the
matter, and if I say anything about your sister it will only be a
passing reference, couched in the most delicate terms. And now, then,
what about the company? How many thousand dollars' worth of diamonds
has the leading lady lost during the last week? Which of the men of the
company is engaged to be married to one of Gould's daughters? Don't be
bashful; tell me all you have to tell, and I'll use all of the stuff I
can. You've given me an A1 interview, and I'm glad to have a chance to
do you a good turn."
Al had a few alleged facts about certain members of the New York Comedy
Company, and he proceeded to retail them to his companion, who made
notes of them.
"They're rather chestnutty," he said, as he returned his notebook to his
pocket, "but I'll fix them up in as good shape as I can, and they may
help you out a little. However, you mustn't expect a big house to-morrow
night, for you won't have it."
With this cheering assurance the _Banner_ scribe took his leave.
It had occurred to Al, too, that the notices which had been furnished
him by Mr. Wattles were somewhat "chestnutty."
"Never mind," he said to himself, "somehow or other I'll fix things so
that we'll have a big house. But, judging from the way I have begun, my
first engagement as advance agent is not going to be much of a 'snap.'"
Al was busy during the entire day seeing that the paper--that is, the
posters, window hangers, etc.--of the company was displayed to the best
advantage.
This work had been done after a fashion some days before by the local
manager, but the way in which the duty had been performed did not suit
the young advance agent, and he kept men "hustling" all day.
"What's the use?" said the manager of the theater, with a weary smile.
"It's sure to be a losing engagement, anyhow."
"Maybe not," returned Al. "You'd better get the 'standing-room-only'
sign dusted off, in case we need it."
"Rats!" was the response. "Young man, when you know this business and
this town as well as I do, you'll sing a different tune. We shall have
about two hundred people in the house to-morrow night--maybe not quite
so many."
And he exhibited the advance sheet, which Al examined with a sinking
heart. Only half a dozen seats had been sold for the performance.