AN OFFER DECLINED.
After his interview with Squire Pope, Philip came down to the office,
where he saw Professor Riccabocca, apparently waiting for him.
“Well, Mr. Gray, where shall we go next?” asked the professor, with
suavity.
“I haven’t decided where to go—have you?” asked Philip coolly.
“I suppose we had better go to Raymond. That is a good-sized place. I
think we can get together a good audience there.”
“You seem to be under the impression that we are in partnership,” said
Philip.
“Of course,” answered Riccabocca.
“I have made no agreement of that sort, professor.”
“But, of course, it is understood,” said Riccabocca quickly, “as long
as we draw so well.”
“You must excuse me, Professor Riccabocca. I must decline the
proposal.”
“But why?” inquired the professor anxiously.
“I hope you won’t press me for an explanation.”
“But I do. I can’t understand why you should act so against your own
interest. You can’t expect people will come just to hear you play. You
need me to help you.”
“It may be as you say, professor, but if you insist upon my speaking
plainly, I don’t care to travel with a man who has treated me as you
have.”
“I don’t understand you,” said Riccabocca nervously; but it was
evident, from his expression, that he did.
“Then you seem very forgetful,” said Philip. “You tried to deprive me
of my share of the proceeds of the entertainment at Wilkesville, and
would have succeeded but for a lucky accident.”
“I told you that it was all owing to neuralgia,” said Professor
Riccabocca. “I had such an attack of neuralgic headache that it nearly
drove me wild.”
“Then,” said Philip, “I would rather find a partner who is not troubled
with neuralgic headache. I think it would be safer.”
“It won’t happen again, Mr. Gray, I assure you,” said the professor
apologetically.
He endeavored to persuade Philip to renew the combination, but our hero
steadily refused. He admitted that it might be to his pecuniary
advantage, but he had lost all confidence in the eminent professor, and
he thought it better to part now than to give him another opportunity
of playing a similar trick upon him.
The professor thereupon consulted the landlord as to whether it would
be advisable for him to give another entertainment unaided, and was
assured very emphatically that it would not pay expenses.
“You make a great mistake, Mr. Gray,” said Riccabocca. “It would be a
great advantage for you to have my assistance at this stage of your
professional career.”
“I don’t expect to have any professional career,” answered Philip.
“Don’t you intend to become a professional musician?” asked the
professor, surprised.
“Probably not. I have only been playing because I needed money, and my
violin helped me to a living.”
“You can’t make as much money in any other way.”
“Not at present; but I want to get a chance to enter upon some kind of
business. I am going to New York.”
“You will some time have a chance to hear me there, in the Academy of
Music,” said Riccabocca pompously.
“I will go and hear you,” said Philip, laughing, “if I can afford a
ticket.”
“Say the word and we will appear there together, Mr. Gray.”
“I think not, professor.”
In fact, though Philip had found himself unexpectedly successful as a
musician, he knew very well that he was only a clever amateur, and that
years of study would be needed to make him distinguished.
He was glad that he had the means of paying his expenses for a
considerable time, and had in his violin a trusty friend upon which he
could rely in case he got into financial trouble. Directly after
breakfast he set out on his journey.