Your letter duly received. You will find our advance route for
the next ten days enclosed. You can join at any time it suits
your convenience. Your salary will be based upon the value and
extent of services you can render this company. After a trial,
if your ability is not what you represented it to be, your
engagement will be ended without prejudice to you or expense to
this firm.
Respectfully yours,
THAYER AND NOYES,
Per B. L.
P. S. Send your professional name and billing.
Alfred read and re-read the letter and immediately began making
preparations to tempt fate once more. The preparations mostly consisted
in surreptitiously secreting his wearing apparel in the old barn where
Node had labored so long on his great inventions. It was Alfred's
intention to leave home clandestinely. As usual with boys in his frame
of mind he did not dare to trust himself to advise with anyone; like
boys in general, he did not desire advice. Approval was that which he
most craved.
Uniontown was decided upon as the place to join the circus. Alfred felt
the leaving of home and family meant more to him than ever before. At
times he was buoyed up by hopes of success. He would argue with himself
thusly: I have promised to join the show. They need me; they will be
expecting me. This is the opportunity I have been looking for.
Alfred spent all his spare time at home with his mother, sisters and
brothers. His usual haunts in town were forgotten. Family and friends
noted the change and wondered thereat. Lin was unstinted in her praise.
Lin asserted from the wildest, he had become the tamest boy in
Brownsville. "He'll eat out of your hand now," she assured Mrs. Todd.
Mr. Todd jerked out a "huh" as he advised them to keep their eyes on the
"devil ketcher." "He's just sittin' the megs for another outbreak. He's
compilin' some devilment, yer ken bet yer bottom dollar. He kan't fool
me twice."
It was the day previous to Alfred's intended departure. He had been at
home all day. He gave his sled to brother Joe. It was summer and the
steel soles were greased to keep them from rusting. Lin would not permit
Joe to haul it over the floor claiming it would grease everything it
touched.
To brother Bill fell shinny clubs and bats, marbles and a kite. Sister
Lizzie was the recipient of more than a quart of various colored beads
taken from Aunt Lib's Jenny Lind waist. Ida Belle, the baby was
remembered with a big Dutch doll that rolled its eyes, the mother with
an ornamental sugar bowl and Lin with a pair of puff combs. A pair of
skates and a bow and arrow were given to Cousin Charley.
The greater effort Alfred made to ease his mind, the more conscience
stricken he became. Try as he would he could not force the gayety he
feigned. He clung to the baby sister every moment he was in the house.
Lin, in an adjoining room, heard him ask the child if she would miss her
big "bruzzer" when he was gone. Entering the room she found Alfred in
tears, the sympathetic child stroking his face. Alfred endeavored to
swallow the lump in his throat but he only sobbed the more. It did him
good as ashamed as he felt.
Lin looked him over suspiciously as she, in a voice as commanding as she
would pitch it, said:
"Look here, ye can't bamboozle me another minnit. What's on yer mind?
Spit it out afore it spills. Get it out of yer sistum and yer'll feel a
hull lot better. Thar hain't a durned dud of yers in this house. Air yu
fixin' to fly the coop? If ye air, don't go off like a thief afore
daylight. Go away so you won't be ashamed to kum back. Kum on now, let's
hear from you! I'll durn soon tell you whar to head in."
Alfred made a full and complete confession.
"So yer fixin' to run off and break the hearts of all at home, an' put a
dent in your own. For a week ye been jumpin' to make yerself more dear
to 'em afore ye hurt 'em. Yer hain't learnin' much with all yer
schoolin'. When do the retreat begin?" banteringly demanded Lin.
"Tomorrow," feebly answered Alfred.
That night, the family were in the big room, mother sewing, the children
playing about her. Lin, seated behind the mother, repeatedly signaled
Alfred to begin his talk to the mother as per his promise. The boy
looked another direction but Lin never took her eyes off his face. Her
gaze became painful. Finally he began:
"Muz, do you think Pap would be mad if I was to go away while he is in
Pittsburgh?"
The mother, without taking her eyes off her work, said: "I hope you're
not going to Uncle Jake's again. You'll wear your welcome out, won't
you?"
"No, I'm going away on business. I'm tired and sick of the way things
are going with me. I see nothing ahead for me and I'm going to strike
out for myself."
The mother put down her sewing and looked very seriously. Lin, from
behind her, nodded vigorously for him to go on.
"Look at Dan Livingstone," Alfred continued; "he never had anything
until he went off with Capt. Abrams. Now see where he is and I don't
know how many boys have gone away and all have done well. All I need is
to get out of this town and I know I can do something for myself."
"Does Capt. Abrams want to take you with him," anxiously inquired the
mother.
"Oh, no, he never said a word to me about it, but I know I could go with
him if I wanted to."
"Well, where do you think of going?" questioned the mother.
Alfred hesitated a second.
"Well, first I'm going to try it with a circus but I don't expect to
stay long. I'm just going on trial."
Noting the look of worriment on the face of the mother he continued:
"I know I won't do. They almost tell me so in a letter and it's only to
Uniontown, twelve miles away. I won't be gone long," and he caught the
baby up, tossed it up, and pretended to be very jolly.
The matter was gone over and over with the mother who insisted that
Alfred remain at home until the return of the father. If he could obtain
his father's consent he could go.
Lin endeavored to assist the boy by remarking: "Well, if he's jes goin'
for a trial, Uniontown is so close to hum, you could walk back if ye
hain't fit fer the work." The mother protested to the last.
Alfred had been so very liberal in bestowing presents to ease his
conscience that he had but forty-six cents in his purse when the leaving
time came. He was acquainted with all the old stage drivers on the line.
It was his intention to walk up Town Hill, rest under the big locust
trees at the brow of the hill until the stage coach arrived, the horses
walking slowly ascending the long hill, he would get up beside the
driver or crawl in the boot on the rear of the stage coach.
He lolled on the grass as the stage approached. The driver was a
stranger to him. He looked appealingly at the man but received no
recognition. The heavy stage lumbered by. Alfred ran for the rear end of
it. The boot was bulging out with trunks and valises; there was no room
for Alfred. A broad strap that held the huge leather cover in place
over the trunks dangled down within reach. Grasping it as the four
horses struck a trot, Alfred was helped along at a lively gait. Through
Sandy Hollow by the old Brubaker house, then a slow walk up the hill by
Mart Claybaugh's blacksmith shop, through the toll gate, then into a
trot on by the old school-house where his first minstrel show was given,
on by all the familiar places.
[Illustration: Leaving Home]
Heretofore when traveling the pike Alfred had a word and a smile for all
as he knew every family along its sides. On this occasion he endeavored
to conceal his identity. But once did the coach halt--at Searight's half
way to Uniontown to water the horses and liquor the driver and
passengers.
Old Logan, the hostler at Searight's crowed in imitation of a rooster,
the passengers throwing him pennies. Alfred with cast down head walked
on to the next hill. When the stage rolled by he again grasped the strap
and kept pace with the coach until the outskirts of Uniontown were
reached. A small colored boy directed him to the show grounds. Through
the main street of the town Alfred trudged, carrying the large carpet
sack formerly used with the Eli troupe as a property receptacle for Mrs.
Story's china tea set.
Arriving at the circus grounds, the afternoon performance was over.
Drawing near the tent he anxiously expected to find the show folks
looking for him. He imagined they would all be expecting him.
The huge form of Dr. Thayer loomed up. Alfred hastened toward him. The
Doctor was engaged in an earnest argument with a mechanic of the town
over the charges for repairs on a wagon. Alfred walked up to the circus
man. The Doctor did not even notice him. He followed the two men around
the wagon as they argued, Alfred stationing himself directly in the big
showman's path. Their eyes met several times, still no recognition came
from the circus manager.
Alfred finally accosted the big man with a "Howdy, Mr. Thayer. I've come
to work for you."
The showman's surprised look showed plainly he did not recognize Alfred.
"I'm the new boy to work in your concert."
Motioning with his arm he ordered Alfred to go back and Charley would
attend to him. Without any idea who Charley was or what he was, Alfred
started in the direction indicated by the jerk of the doctor's hand.
Approaching the connection between the main tent and the dressing room
tent, a man lying on the grass warned Alfred back. Even after he
explained that he was searching for Charley, the man, without heeding
the appeal, motioned the boy back. Walking around to the other side of
the tent, he stealthily approached the opening and darted in. He was
barely inside the tent when a big, burly fellow seized him roughly and
hustled him through the opening, demanding why he was sneaking into the
ladies' dressing room.
"Mr. Thayer hired me. He sent me here. He told me Charley would attend
to me. I'm looking for Charley."