WHILE OTHERS SLEPT.
After his discovery of the syndicate bills, Merriwell turned back and
bestowed a brief, but comprehensive glance at the man before him. He was
a young fellow of medium height, with a rather pleasant face and
fiery-red hair. He was roughly dressed and his faded overalls were
smeared with paste. Dick decided that he was one of the laborers who did
the actual work of billposting. He seemed like a pretty good sort, and
the Yale man seldom went wrong in sizing up a man. Still he hesitated,
wondering whether he had better put into execution the plan which was in
his mind.
At last he determined to risk it. He could think of no other way, and
the bills must be on the boards before daylight.
“Do you want to earn ten dollars?” he asked presently.
The fellow grinned all over his freckled face.
“That’s me, guv’ner,” he replied promptly. “I sure do.”
“Would you be willing to stay up all night to do it?” Merriwell went on.
“Sure, Mike!”
The Yale man’s eyes wandered to the big buckets of paste which ranged
along the wall.
“How long would it take you to mix up a lot of paste like that?” he
inquired.
The billposter looked puzzled.
“About an hour or so,” he returned. “What yer after?”
Dick smiled.
“I want about that much ready at twelve o’clock sharp,” he returned. “I
also want three or four big brushes that you put it on with. Where do
you suppose I could get those?”
The fellow waved his hand to where a lot of them hung in rows against
the wall.
“What’s the matter with them?” he inquired. “The old man’ll never miss
’em if you get ’em back by six o’clock. He’s got a big job on for
to-morrer, an’ he’s going to start at six.”
“I don’t want to use his brushes,” Dick said quickly. “Isn’t there some
place around town where I could buy some?”
The billposter shook his head.
“Not as I knows of,” he answered. “Them brushes is made special.”
Merriwell hesitated for a moment. Then he shrugged his shoulders.
“All right,” he said, “we’ll use those, then. I can pay Lawford well for
the use of them after the business is over. Got that straight, now? Have
the paste and brushes ready for me at midnight. We’d better take a
couple of those small ladders, too. And you are to stay here till we
bring the things back. See?”
The fellow nodded.
“Yep. But, say, guv’ner, this here ain’t goin’ to do me no harm with the
boss, is it?”
“Not unless you tell him yourself about it,” the Yale man answered. “I
promise you no one will ever get it from me, but I’ll be frank with
you——”
He paused, and looked inquiringly at the fellow.
“Brown’s me name,” the latter informed him. “Bill Brown.”
“Well, Bill,” Dick continued, “I may as well tell you that if Lawford
ever found out that you had made paste for me, and loaned me his
brushes, he would probably fire you on the spot. But, as I say, I don’t
see how he’s going to find it out. I’ll leave the money for the brushes,
and all the rest, in his desk, and he’ll have no way of knowing where it
came from.”
Brown hesitated, apparently turning the matter over in his mind.
Presently he looked up.
“Make it fifteen, and I’m your man,” he said.
Dick smiled.
“I’ll go you one better. It’s worth twenty to me, and here’s half of it
now.”
He handed the fellow a ten-dollar bill.
“T’anks, guv’ner,” Brown said fervently. “You’re a sure-enough gent.
I’ll have the stuff ready fur you at eleven. Might a bloke ask what
you’re going to do with it?”
“I reckon I’d better not tell you, Bill,” Merriwell smiled. “Then you
won’t be forced to hide anything more than necessary.”
As soon as they were out of the building, Demarest gave vent to his
enthusiasm.
“By Jove, Merriwell!” he exclaimed admiringly. “You certainly have got a
great head. You remind me of a general laying out the details of a
campaign. What’s the next step?”
Dick chuckled.
“Get enough of the fellows to put up the bills,” he explained.
Demarest roared with laughter.
“Great,” he gasped; “simply great! That’s a master stroke, getting Yale
students to turn billposters! But, say, will they do it, do you think?”
“Do it!” Dick echoed. “They’ll fairly fall over themselves to get the
chance. Perhaps you Cambridge boys were too staid for this sort of
diversion, but I don’t think I shall have any difficulty persuading some
of my friends, especially when it’s in such a righteous cause.”
It took but a short time to reach the campus, and Dick led the way up
the stairs of Durfee, taking the steps three at a time, while Demarest
followed him more slowly. Bursting into his room, he found quite a crowd
of fellows there, who at once set up a shout at the sight of him.
“By thunder!” Brad Buckhart, his roommate, exclaimed. “It’s about time
you showed up, you old maverick. Had us worrying our heads clean off
wondering whether Harvard had roped you.”
“Yes,” put in Eric Fitzgerald. “We were just about to organize a posse
to hunt you up. Where’ve you——”
He broke off abruptly, his eyes fastened with a look of horror on the
entering Demarest, while he threw out both hands as if to ward off
something unspeakably awful.
“Take him away!” he gasped, rolling his eyes ceilingward. “This is
dreadful! I haven’t had a drink in weeks, and yet I see two Merriwells.
It’s worse than snakes! For heaven sakes, somebody take one of ’em
away!”
Exclamations of astonishment arose from the other fellows at the sight
of the amazing resemblance between the two men.
“Stop your nonsense, Fitz!” Dick admonished. “Fellows, this is my
friend, Austin Demarest, who is going to bring out a corking Yale play
here next Thursday.”
“What’s the relation, pard?” Buckhart grinned, as he shook hands with
the actor. “You sure had me guessing for a minute.”
“Me, too,” put in Rudolph Rose. “It’s the greatest thing I ever saw.”
“None whatever,” Dick explained. “I met Mr. Demarest for the first time
this morning, but I can assure you he’s the goods, all right.”
Fitzgerald withdrew his gaze from the ceiling, with a profound sigh of
relief.
“Delighted to meet you,” he said fervently, as he clasped Demarest’s
hand. “For a moment I had a horrid thought—— However, we won’t dwell on
that. Jove! I can’t get used to the two of you yet.”
After everybody had met the stranger, and the crowd settled down to
comparative quiet, Dick took the floor.
“We’ve got a ticklish job on hand to-night, boys,” he said earnestly,
“and I want your help. Demarest has a dandy play, which he has got to
bring out in New Haven. He’s up against the trust, and they won’t let
him have a decent theatre, so he’s taken the old Concert Hall. We
thought everything was settled all right this afternoon, but now it
appears that the trust has a play as nearly like Demarest’s as possible,
even to the name, which they are going to shove into the Arcadian on
Friday. It’s a put-up job, you see, to give him a frost. They’ve hired
Lawford to cover the boards with their bills to-morrow morning, though
Demarest had a previous understanding with the fellow that his paper
would go up as soon as it was printed. We’ve persuaded the printers to
work overtime, and the bills will be ready at midnight. Now, what I want
to do is to get them on the boards before daylight. Also every dead wall
we can get the privilege on. Catch on?”
“You bet!” exclaimed Fitz joyfully. “You want us to turn billposters.”
“Exactly,” Dick nodded. “How about it?”
“Of course we will!”
“Great!”
“Gee! What a circus that will be!”
“Bring on your bills, pard, and we’ll get ’em up or perish in the
attempt.”
The assent was perfectly unanimous. Every one seemed to think it a great
lark, and was eager for the fun to commence. But there was still two
hours before the bills would be ready, so Dick took the opportunity of
giving the boys a more comprehensive sketch of what Demarest was up
against, and the troubles he had had to get a hearing for the play.
The fellows were all much interested, and then and there they resolved
themselves into an informal committee of six to spread the news
throughout the university, and collect as large an audience as possible
for Thursday night.
About eleven o’clock they all sallied forth in high spirits, and made at
once for the printing establishment. Here they found that the presses
were all running full blast, and the bills close to completion. The
foreman assured Dick that the last one would be run off in about half an
hour, so the latter dispatched Buckhart to see if he couldn’t find some
sort of a vehicle in which they could transport the paper. That was the
one point on which he had slipped up. He had expected that they would be
able to carry the bills, but a sight of the volume already printed
showed him at once that this was impossible.
While Buckhart was gone, Merriwell and Demarest paid all the men off,
and thanked them heartily for the help they had given, besides
presenting each of them with two tickets for the show.
Precisely at half-past eleven the last bill was run off, the great
presses stopped, and the printers grabbed up coats and hats, and hurried
out of the place. The foreman remained a few minutes to show Dick which
were the large bills to be posted up, and which the smaller posters to
attach to the colored lithographs for the store windows, which they
proposed distributing the moment the shops opened in the morning. They
were really counting more on these than the announcements on the boards,
for they felt pretty certain that the latter would not remain uncovered
long, once Lawford got started with his work for the trust in the
morning. They would be up long enough, however, to attract considerable
attention, and Dick had a little scheme by which he hoped to circumvent
Lawford if the latter did cover them.
Presently Brad appeared, with the announcement that he had a cab below,
and all hands turned to to carry the bills downstairs. In the street
outside they found a rather dilapidated specimen of four-wheeler, which
the Texan had picked up at the station, into which they piled the paper
until there was room for nothing else.
The driver seemed to take it as some college prank, and, assured of his
money, which he had obtained in advance, looked upon them with a
tolerant eye.
At the billposter’s, they found Brown on the alert, and the paste and
brushes ready for them. His eyes bulged a little when he saw the cab
full of paper, but he asked no questions. He rather hoped that the
night’s work would hit his boss hard, for Lawford was a hard man to work
for, and was cordially hated by the fellows under him.
Several buckets of the paste, the brushes, and two ladders were wedged
into the cab somehow, and then the fun commenced.
Merriwell’s plan of campaign was masterly. He avoided carefully the
central part of the town, in which the cops were apt to be more or less
wide awake, and proceeded at once to the outskirts, where they could
work undisturbed.
Quietly and swiftly, board after board was covered with the flaring
announcements. Many of them were slapped on crooked, and several times
they got the different sections misplaced, so that the bottom part came
first, but Demarest was rather pleased at that than otherwise. He
thought it would attract more attention than if they had been put on
with the customary skill and regularity.
The fellows were having the time of their lives. Before long they were
smeared with paste from head to foot, but that did not matter. They
slathered the bills on as if their lives depended on their speed, and
the little spice of risk—for the cops were pretty sure to question such
proceedings if they got onto the game—only added to the enjoyment.
Working with the utmost method, they slowly circled the town,
approaching nearer and nearer to the central zone of danger. Several
times they had narrow escapes, but they always managed to pull out
before the cops actually caught them, though more than once they were
obliged to run, leaving only the top section of the bill affixed to the
board. It is safe to say, however, that those incomplete sections,
breaking off abruptly in the middle of the announcement, attracted more
attention from the passers-by in the morning, and stimulated their
curiosity to a much greater extent than anything else.
At last they reached Chapel Street, just opposite the campus, and here
Fitz conceived the audacious scheme of putting one of their bills on the
board in front of the Arcadian Theatre. This was carrying the war into
the enemy’s camp with a vengeance, but Dick at once perceived the
advertising value of such a thing, and they proceeded to plan it with
care.
An officer’s beat took in Chapel Street between York and Orange, a
matter of five blocks. Merriwell stationed the cab well around the
corner on High Street, and then carried the paste and one of the bills
into a doorway nearer the corner. There they thoroughly pasted the first
part of the bill, while Buckhart, keeping watch at the corner, gave the
word when the cop was well away from the front of the theatre.
As soon as the coast was clear, Dick and Fitz dashed out, carrying the
pasted sheet between them, while Rudolph Rose came along with the brush.
A few deft dabs with the latter served to fix the paper to the board,
and then they darted into concealment again, to await another round on
the part of the officer.
He passed the billboard the first time without noticing the change, but
on his return trip, he seemed to be attracted by the unfinished look of
the thing.
“Begorrah!” the listening fellows heard him mutter. “It’s careless
Johnny Lawford’s min is gettin’ to be. Runnin’ off an’ l’avin’ the board
half done. ‘Jarvis of Yale.’ A foine show’, I doubt not.”
The moment his back was turned, the next sheet was added to the board,
and the announcement completed. The fellows did not stay to hear the
officer’s comments on his return trip. But they laughed gleefully as
they pictured his astonishment when he saw, the bill of a Concert Hall
production before the Arcadian Theatre.
It was nearly five o’clock when the empty pails and brushes were
returned to the billposter’s establishment. Bill Brown promptly hung the
latter in their place, washed out the pails, and put them away. Then,
locking the door, he departed with a hearty good night, one hand
clutching two crisp ten-dollar notes, thrust deep in his trousers
pocket.
The Yale men accompanied Demarest to the hotel, and helped him carry in
what remained of the bills. Then they left him, and made their way to
their various quarters in high glee at the success of the night’s work.
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