Beadle's Dime Library, No. 406 — page 23: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ed into that wardrobe. ‘begin to lallygag. -and eighty-five dollars,’ and it’s ee on re oun ceases —<--— = a a. ee -—-_-——e—_ — ee Se oe ee ee ee ee ec ee - 1 - > “ “ Se ee se — ee ee ee Cee ee eee ee ; 23 | game of bluff. Business is business, What | a bribe straight from the word ‘go,’ and you | the letter was too coldly business-like to ad- do you say?” “To this offer?” *« Of course.”’ “* Well, Mr. Taylor,” said Moone, in the coolest way in the world, ‘‘I regret to say that I cannot engage with you this season, being under contract with Mr. Hicks till we go into town for the winter.” Taylor flushed purple with anger, and rose up from the bed to say: ‘“As you please, you little whelp; but I tell you one thing—’ He stopped short as little Moone threw open the door of the wardrobe, and showed Pop Hicks, chuckling and radiant, stepping out into the room. Taylor was struck dumb, and Pop said to him, with a sarcasm that cut the agent's pride to the quick: ‘‘Norm Taylor, I didn’t think you was sich a greeny as that. Well, you laid your- self out that time, like a live corpse, didn’t ye? Give my regards to George Bownsse, and tell him Pop ain’t run out yet, as he'll find out. And as for you—” He turned on little Moone, and fairly lifted him off his feet to hug him. ‘‘Me and you don’t part, Mooney, not if it takes every acre I’ve got in the old home- stead to keep you. [I'll raise yer salary, darned if I don’t do it, if I bu’st fur it, for it’s the fu’st square chance I’ve had at old Norm Taylor in many a year.” The gorgeous agent had been speechless at first with surprise and mortification. Now he recovered himself to say, with an empha- gis about which there was no sort of mistake: ‘*Moone, you played it well. I can’t say a word, sir, nota word. I ought to have look- It’s my treat.” Pop Hicks shook his head, laughing: ‘‘No, no, Norm, you don’t get off with no treat this time. That story’s too rich to keep, by gum! Tryin’ to get my best man away, right under my nose, and never looked to see where I was. Well, you are a smart agent; ain't you? Lordy, how the boys will holler, when I tell ’em the story down at Sammy Booth’s. Hi! hi! It'll last all through the winter.” Taylor winced perceptibly. Sammy Booth was the leading show- printer for circus work, and his place was the rendezvous in winter of all the circus men, jolly fellows all, among whom Taylor was king. “And round the corner at Mike’s,” con- tinued Pop, chuckling. ‘‘ What atime we'll have with Sammy, and Snedden, and Fred Keeler, and the rest of the boys, over the beer and pork pies. Hi! Taylor, but I wouldn't be in your place, when the boys You won’t be able to show your face all winter.” Taylor winced worse. . ‘‘ Mike’s” was the saloon round the corner, where men in the show business were found, every day.in the year; and where show stories and beer were ‘consumed in equal proportions, from noon till late at night. Taylor kad been the lion there for many a year, and he trembled at the thought of the jjokes that would be cracked upon him, or made at his expense behind his back. | ‘Look here, Pop,” he said, coaxingly. ‘*T’'ll stand a supper on it, if you'll drop it. You haven't suffered by it—” **No, nor I don't intend to,” chuckled Pop, who seemed to have been restored to perfect content by the events of the day. ‘* You can bet your bottom dollar that me ‘and Mooney makes the most of that little -check—”’ “The check!” almost shrieked Taylor, and he made a dash at Moone, Pop interposed and gave him a dig in the paunch with his elbow that sent Taylor stag- gering against the door, shaking the entire building. sé No e don’t,” he cried. ‘‘That there check’s drawed to Mooney’s order, and [’m_ a-goin’ to see he gits the money.” ‘But, good heavens,” gasped Taylor, “ it’s getting it under false pretenses. It’s flat robbery. _ It's only conditional, He was to join our show—" | ‘‘Where does it say so in the check?” asked Pop, curiously. ‘‘It says jest ‘pay to the order of Charles H. Moone, five hundred signed * George Leonard.’ No conditions there. It’s know,” cried Sykes, in terror, And the boy was know it, Norm Taylor. That’s what’s the | smart enough to ketch ye! matter!” Taylor flushed and paled, and began to open the door, saying sullenly: ‘Allright. Jl stop it at the bank.” ‘You kin do that as much as you please;” | returned Pop, chuckling. ‘‘I’d rather ye | would, ’cause I want to keep the check and put © at en all the papers. Mooney ’ll write up the | story, won't ye, Moone? Oh, it’ll makerich readin’, arter Onion George’s letter. Norm | Taylor, it’s life and death tween us, and I can’t throw away a chance.” Taylor made a gesture of despair. ‘‘Great heavens man, what will you take to hush this up? I'll do anything.” Pop pointed his finger at him. ‘Then leave the show,” he said. CHAPTER XXX. A FINANCIAL CRISIS. ONION GEORGE Bownss® was rubbing his hands over the month’s account that same evening, while the show was in full progress, and was saying to his money-taker: ‘* Tommy, if things go on like this, we'll | make something yet this season; and what we don’t make one way we will another.” He had found that, after five weeks on the | road, the show had a thousand dollars in the | treasury over next week’s expenses, and the | ains had all accumulated within the last | ortnight. | ‘* And the best’s to come yet,” continued | he, thoughtfully. ‘‘ The best’s to come yet. Those Virginny and Maryland towns is— allurs safe to put us on the right side afore | we turn into Ohio, Who'd have thought it? | What luck I stumbled on those solid guys at | Popokus! It’s beena good deal of work and | bother, but it’s a-paying now, Tommy, it’s a- paying now. Any letters, Tommy?” ommy Sykes, money-taker, handed him | several, and the manager took them to the back end of the ticket-wagon, where he pe- | rused them attentively. | Suddenly he burst out into an explosion of | blaspheming that actually startled Tommy, | though he was used to hear swearing. | “When did he leave this letter?” he roar- | ed, shaking a letter furiously. | ‘‘ What—what letter, sir?” asked Sykes, | allin a tremor at the rage of his employer. | “This one—this from Taylor, gosh darn | his fat carcass!” hissed the manager, white with fury. ‘‘By gosh, if I had him here, I'd bu’st his insides out of him, and give ’em to the Hyenas for supper, by gosh! When did he leave this, gosh darn him?” Sykes was astounded and frightened at the sudden ebullition of rage, but managed to xs ‘< Mr. Taylor, sir? He—he came here—” “When?” yelled Bownsse, frantically. ‘Gosh darn your stupid chunk of a head. You consarned cheese-eating lummox, can’t you speak out? When?” ** This afternoon, sir, while the show was on, and left this letter. ‘‘That’s all I “TI didn’t think there was anything wrong, sir. He didn’t say a word but to give that to you this | evening.” ‘There, there; that'll do, Tommy. I don’t | blame you at all. I’m going ’round to the | hotel, if any one wants me before the show’s | out.” And he got out of the wagon and went off to the hotel, the'imprecations bubbling from his lips all the way, till the very violence of his fury exhausted him. Then he read the letter again in his room: ‘Mr, G. B. Bownssz:— ‘**DeaAR Stn:—Circumstances over which I have no control, including the state of my health, compel me to resign my position as advance manager of your show. My contract, as you are aware, was with Mr. Leonard, who has this day refused to go | on with it any further, If you want a good advance man I can conscientiously recommend you Mr. Charles H. Moone, of the Hicks show. He will be open to an engagement next season. I am sorry to | say that Mr. Leonard seems to be muck incensed | against you for some cause or other, and Lrecom- | mend that you go and see him atonce. He is at present in the Tompkins House, in this town. | ** Yours omy “NORMAN J. Taytor.” | Onion George stared at the letter in a. stupor, now his rage was cooled, It had seemed to him at first like a hoax, what he called ‘‘a fake,” to put him in a passion; but { done, by gosh! mit any such supposition. At one fell swoop he had lost his success- ful advance manager, and the news was an- nounced to him that his financial backer was ‘incensed against him ” for some unknown cause. 7 Poor Onion George had no Moone to turn to for advice, and for a little while felt utter- ly at a loss what to do, At last he resolutely slammed his hat on his head and ejaculated: ‘By gosh, may as well see what’s to be I'll go and see the guy, and find what he means.”’ He went off to the Tompkins House and asked for Leonard. He found that George was there, and, from the respectful way in which Bownsse was Ye treated, he judged that the young million- |. aire was living high in the hotel, as in fact ; he was. Mr. Leonard had taken a whole suite of f] apartments, and when Onion George was iJ ushered in, he found the young man stretch- 4 ed on a sofa, smoking. " Leonard moved his head lazily as the manager entered, and accosted him at once with: 4 * Hallo! you’re there, are you? Didn't x Taylor tell you [ wanted you at once?” iy: Had Onion George’s reverence for wealth been any less than it was, he would have - flared up at this address. : As it was, he swallowed his choler,and said, in the sweetest way: 9 “Why, no, Mr. Leonard; I only got his — note just now, and he made no mention of _ your wanting me, though he advised me to see you. What is the trouble, sir? Any- — thing wrong?” & Leonard did not offer to rise or motion his guest toachair. He lay there, sosleek and insolent that Bownsse had much adoto keep down his temper. a ‘Anything wrong?” he echoed. “By Jove, sir, I like that! Here I’ve advanced nearly ten thousand dollars to your show, and all I’ve got for it isa mud pelting from the cads at Quarry Center, and a virtuous letter from you, calling me all the namesa man can be called. How’s that?” ; Bownsse smiled his sweetest. Fs >? ‘You refer to my note in the papers? ee My dear sir, that’s well undenstadd, to bets show business. It’s forgotten entirely. No i one knows the name of the gentleman i ke a, of, and, out here, no one ever heard of the thing.” a al ‘“That’s all very well,” returned the young millionaire; ‘‘but you’re making a mess of it all the time. That man Taylor’s a fraud—” 1 “‘T agree with you,” interrupted Bownsse, __ warmly. ‘‘I wish I’d never seen his face, But he did well at first.” Rae ‘‘He’s made a worse mess of it than ever __ now,” said Leonard. ‘‘He’s let a check of mine get into the hands of the other at uae You arranged the matter, and I signed ta check at your instance. The man, Sun, ~ Moon— What’s his name?” aa: ** Moone, you mean; the agent?” ae “Yes, that’s his name. Got my checkin- — to his hands; refuses to give it up. Threat- © ens another scandal. I'm sick of it all. I've told them to pay the check, and I’ve done with you. Iwasa fool ever to go into it, and | wash my hands of it all.” oa For a few moments Bownsse stared stupid- _ ly at him. ont Then he stammered: ert ‘You mean that—” dae “That I give you the whole thing, and I shall back you no more,” said Leonard, an- | ily. ‘‘You and Stone area pairof swin lers. Between you, you have robbed me of ten thousand dollars. Now clear out. I want no more to do with you.” , , Bownsse was used to insolerce. He suf- fered and returned it—the first from his su- periors in riches, the second to poorer men than himself. ae ‘Ss He was as humble as could be, and only asked gently: | is sh ‘“Does Mr. Stone know of this?” es Leonard looked uneasy for the first time, and Bownsse saw it. Renee, ~ ‘‘That’s rone of your business,” he said snappishly. ‘‘He’s away some wild — goose-chase, and when he comes back he will know it.” ee > comicbooks.com ¥ - « °