In Which the Enterprise of Archie Armstrong Evolves SeÑor Fakerino, the Greatest Magician In Captivity. In Which, also, the Foolish are Importuned Not to be Fooled, Candy is Promised to Kids, Bill o’ Burnt Bay is Persuaded to Tussle With “The Lost Pirate,” and the “Spot Cash” Sets Sail

For three dismal, foggy days, Archie Armstrong was the busiest business man in St. John’s, Newfoundland. He was forever damp, splashed with mud, grimy-faced, wilted as to clothes and haggard as to manner. But make haste he must; there was not a day––not an hour––to spare: for it was now appallingly near August; and the first of September would delay for no man. When, with the advice of Sir Archibald and the help of every man-jack in the warehouses (even of the rat-eyed little Tommy Bull), the credit of Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company had been exhausted to the last penny, Archie sighed in a thoroughly self-satisfied way, pulled out his new check-book and plunged into work of another sort.

“How’s that bank-account holding out?” Sir Archibald asked, that evening. 221

“I’m a little bit bent, dad,” Archie replied, “but not yet broke.”

Sir Archibald looked concerned.

“Advertising,” Archie briefly explained.

“But,” said Sir Archibald, in protest, “nobody has ever advertised in White Bay before.”

“Somebody is just about to,” Archie laughed.

Sir Archibald was puzzled. “Wh-wh-what for?” he inquired. “What kind of advertising?”

“Handbills, dad, and concerts, and flags, and circus-lemonade.”

“Nothing more, son?” Sir Archibald mocked.

“SeÑor Fakerino,” Archie replied, with a smack of self-satisfaction, “the World’s Greatest Magician.”

“The same being?”

“Yours respectfully, A. Armstrong.”

Sir Archibald shrugged his shoulders. Then his eyes twinkled, his sides began to shake, and he threw back his head and burst into a roar of laughter, in which Archie and his mother––they were all at dinner––joined him.

“Why, dad,” Archie exclaimed, with vast enthusiasm, “the firm of Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company is going to give the people of White Bay such a good time this summer that 222 they’ll never deal with anybody else. And we’re going to give them the worth of their money, too––every penny’s worth. On a cash basis we can afford to. We’re going into business to build up a business; and when I come back from that English school next summer it’s going to go right ahead.”

Sir Archibald admitted the good prospect.

“Pity the poor Black Eagle!” said Archie, grinning.

Lady Armstrong finished SeÑor Fakerino’s gorgeously spangled crimson robe and high-peaked hat that night and Archie completed a very masterpiece of white beard. Afterwards, Archie packed his trunks. When he turned in at last, outward bound next day by the cross-country mixed train, he had the satisfaction of knowing that he had stowed the phonograph, the printing-press and type, the signal flags, the magical apparatus and Fakerino costume and the new accordion; and he knew––for he had taken pains to find out––that the stock of trading goods, which he had bought with most anxious discrimination, was packed and directed and waiting at the station, consigned to Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company, General Merchants, Ruddy Cove, Newfoundland.

Archie slept well. 223

When the mail-boat made Ruddy Cove, Archie was landed, in overflowing spirits, with his boxes and bales and barrels and trunks and news. The following days were filled with intense activity. Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company chartered the On Time in due form; and with the observance of every legal requirement she was given a new name, the Spot Cash. They swept and swabbed her, fore and aft; they gave her a line or two of gay paint; they fitted her cabin with shelves and a counter and her forecastle with additional bunks; and Bill o’ Burnt Bay went over her rigging and spars. While Jimmie Grimm, Bobby North and Bagg unpacked the stock and furnished the cabin shelves and stowed the hold, Billy Topsail and Archie turned to on the advertising.

The printing-press was set up in Mrs. Skipper William’s fish-stage. Billy Topsail––who had never seen the like––stared open-mouthed at the operation.

“We got to make ’em buy,” Archie declared.

“H-h-how?” Billy stammered.

“We got to make ’em want to,” said Archie. “They’ll trade if they want to.”

In return Billy watched Archie scribble. 224

“How’s this?” Archie asked, at last.

Billy listened to the reading.

“Will that fetch ’em aboard?” Archie demanded, anxiously.

“It would my mother,” said the astonished Billy. “I’d fetch her, bet yer life!”

They laboriously set up the handbill and triumphantly struck it off:

“That’ll fetch ’em, all right!” Archie declared. “Now for the concert.”

Billy had another shock of surprise. “Th-th what?” he ejaculated.

“Concert,” Archie replied. “You’re going to sing, Billy.” 225

“Me!” poor Billy exclaimed in large alarm.

“And Skipper Bill is, too,” Archie went on; “and Bagg’s going to double-shuffle, and Bobby North is going to shake that hornpipe out of his feet, and Jimmie Grimm is going to recite ‘Sailor Boy, Sailor Boy,’ and I’m going to do a trifling little stunt myself. I’m SeÑor Fakerino, Billy,” Archie laughed, “the Greatest Magician in Captivity. Just you wait and see. I think I’ll have a bill all to myself.”

Archie scowled and scribbled again with a result that presently made him chuckle. It appeared in the handbill (after some desperately hard work) in this guise:

It was late in the afternoon before the last handbill was off the press; and Billy Topsail then looked more like a black-face comedian than senior member of the ambitious firm of Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company. Archie was no better––perspiring, ink-stained, tired in head and hands. But the boys were delighted with what they had accomplished. There were two other productions: one announcing the concert and the other an honest and quiet comparison of cash and credit prices with a fair exposition of the virtue and variety of the merchandise to be had aboard the Spot Cash.

When Bill o’ Burnt Bay, however, was shown the concert announcement and informed, much to his amazement, that it was down in the articles of agreement, as between him, master of the Spot Cash, and the firm of Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company––down in black and white in the articles of agreement which he was presumed to have signed––down and no dodging it––that he was to sing “The Lost Pirate” when required––Bill o’ Burnt Bay was indignant and flatly resigned his berth.

“All right, skipper,” Archie drawled. “You needn’t sing, I ’low. Billy Topsail has a sweet 227 little pipe, an’ I ’low it’ll be a good deal better to have him sing twice.”

“Eh?” Bill gasped, chagrined. “What’s that?”

“Better to have Billy sing twice,” Archie repeated indifferently.

Bill o’ Burnt Bay glared at Billy Topsail.

“Billy Topsail,” said Archie, in a way the most careless, “has the neatest little pipe on the coast.”

“I’ll have you to know,” Bill o’ Burnt Bay snorted, “that they’s many a White Bay liveyere would pay a dime t’ hear me have a tussle with ‘The Lost Pirate.’”

Archie whistled.

“Look you, Archie!” Skipper Bill demanded; “is you goin’ t’ let me sing, or isn’t you?”

“I is,” Archie laughed.

That was the end of the mutiny.

At peep of dawn the Spot Cash set sail from Ruddy Cove with flags flying and every rag of sail spread to a fair breeze. Presently the sun was out, the sky blue, the wind smartly blowing. Late in the afternoon she passed within a stone’s throw of Mother Burke and rounded Cape John 228 into White Bay. Before dark she dropped anchor in Coachman’s Cove and prepared for business.

“Come on, lads!” Archie shouted, when the anchor was down and all sail stowed. “Let’s put these dodgers where they’ll do most good.”

The handbills were faithfully distributed before the punts of Coachman’s came in from the fishing grounds; and that night, to an audience that floated in punts in the quiet water, just beyond the schooner’s stern, and by the light of four torches, Topsail, Armstrong, Grimm & Company presented their first entertainment in pursuit of business, the performers operating upon a small square stage which Bill o’ Burnt Bay had rigged on the house of the cabin.

It was a famous evening.