TROUBLE BEHIND THE SCENES.
Havener's mind was now freed from all doubts and he threw himself into
his business with a new zeal that ought to have made the fortunes of
the company.
But fate has strange ways of rewarding industry, and instead of adding
success to success Frank and his brother Thespians struck a number of
dismal failures, and a heavy cloud was resting over the organization.
Matters came to a head at the Grand Theater, in the little town of
Groton.
The Grand Theater was grand in name only. Its interior was more like a
barn and its lack of scenery and stage accommodations were something
disheartening.
The company billed to appear that evening in the society play called
"Haunted Hearts" had dressed and made up to go on.
With one exception.
Arthur Sargent, who was to play the part of a country cousin on his
first visit to the city, was still in his street clothes, and had
refused to appear unless two weeks' salary due him was paid before the
curtain rose on the first act.
Frank was trying to persuade him to change his mind.
"You are breaking your agreement with me, Sargent," said Merry,
remonstratingly.
"Hang the agreement!" exclaimed the actor, snapping his fingers. "What
do I care for that! I want my money!"
"But you made the agreement."
"I signed nothing but my contract with you."
"The agreement was verbal."
"And therefore doesn't amount to that!" snapping his fingers.
"But doesn't your word--your promise amount to more than that?"
Sargent flushed a bit, and then he grew angry.
"That's an insult, Mr. Merriwell!" he almost hissed. "I do not like it."
"It was not intended as an insult, Sargent; but you know you promised
to stick by the company and take a share of the profits, in case
business should become so poor that I could not pay salaries in full."
"Well, I have received nothing during the past two weeks--absolutely
nothing. That's not a share."
"There have been no profits."
"Then I think that frees me from my agreement."
"I can't see it in that light. Wait a moment! You know very well that I
can't pay you all that is due you, the same as the others know I can't
pay them. They are not raising any kick, for they all know everyone
will be used fair----"
Again the rebellious actor snapped his fingers.
"Oh, I don't know!" he said, in a manner that was positively insolent.
"I am not so sure that everyone will be used square."
Frank looked at him straight and hard for a few seconds, and then
slowly asked:
"Do you mean to infer, Sargent, that I will deal crookedly with those
who give me their loyal support?"
"Well, some of them get favors."
"No! You are mistaken, sir. In business I have no favorites."
"How about Cassie?"
"What about her?"
"Well, I know you have paid her money within a week."
"I have not paid her any money, Sargent."
"But Cates saw you give it to her in Hartland."
"Cassie has been ill."
"What of that?"
"She needed a little money to buy medicine."
"Ha! So you acknowledge it?"
"I loaned her a small sum of money."
"Loaned it?"
"Exactly. She understood very well that it was not paid as a portion of
her salary."
Sargent laughed derisively.
"What a bluff!" he cried. "That wouldn't go with anybody! Managers do
not loan money to actors when salaries are due."
"There was nothing due under the agreement, as you know."
"Oh, you'll twist it to suit yourself. But I've made up my mind, and
you pay to-night, or I quit in advance of the show."
"Besides," pursued Merriwell, calmly, "you know as well as I that
Cassie was threatened with a serious illness, and it would have broken
us up had she been taken ill. All that averted the catastrophe was the
prompt manner in which she obtained medicine to help her. That kept the
show from going to pieces."
"That's nothing to me. She's had money, and I want mine."
"After the show----"
"Now!"
"Don't be unreasonable, man! We have a fair house here, and ought to
make something clear. After the show I'll pay you something, so that
you----"
"You'll pay me before the curtain goes up, or I'll not step on the
stage to-night! That is business! I know all about promises to pay
after the show. I've been fooled before with that kind of a bluff. It
won't go."
Frank flushed.
"I wish you would not judge me by the dishonest parties with whom you
have had dealings in the past," he said, just a bit sharply. "I have
not been in this business long, and I may be a fool, but I keep my
word."
"Perhaps so; but I take no chances."
"What do you wish to do--break us up?"
"I want money."
"If we stick together, we may pull out by a lucky streak. You know we
are going to strike better towns next week. If the company goes up
here, what will you do? You'll be stranded away out in this region,
hundreds of miles from anywhere, and that'll not be a pleasant
situation."
"If this company goes up, we'll reorganize and go ahead as we were
before you took hold of it. You are not capable of managing anyhow, and
so----"
"You are talking through your hat, Sargent!" broke in a sharp voice, as
Roscoe Havener came up. "Merriwell has done as well as any living man
could have done under the circumstances."
"What's the matter with you?" demanded the rebel, insolently. "You were
the one who said before he took hold of the company that we'd quit him
when his money was gone--throw him over."
Havener grew red and glared at Sargent.
"Never--never said that!" he gurgled. "Lawrence was the man who made
that talk, and Lawrence----"
"You can't shift it onto Lawrence simply because he is not here. The
very fact that he refused to go with Merriwell at all proves what
you claim is not true. We've been up against hard luck long enough.
Merriwell is a Jonah. I don't know how it happens that the whole gang
seems ready now to let Merriwell do just as he likes and stick by him.
They've changed wonderfully since the time they all said we'd use him
while he had money and then drop him."
"They have found that Merriwell is a man. He uses us square, and we
should do the same with him."
"Oh, I know--I know all about your reasons for sticking by him. Can't
fool me! But I'm done!"
"You don't seem to have any reason about it."
"I'm not to be jollied along by a game of talk."
Sargent turned as if to walk away, but Havener caught hold of him and
yanked him round.
"Wait!" he grated. "I've got something to say to you! I'm stage manager
of this show. You know that."
"Yes."
"Well, you are under my orders now."
Sargent was silent.
"Go into that dressing room," commanded Havener, pointing, "and make up
for your part."
"What if I refuse?"
"Then I'm blamed if I don't give you the thrashing you deserve!"
Havener was thoroughly aroused, as his scowling face and threatening
manner showed. He was a large man, and Sargent was afraid of him.
"Go!" thundered the stage manager.
And, without another word, Sargent entered the dressing room.