  "We got into Bungtown early next day. I went at once to the theatre. There I was happy to learn that the advance sale was good and the prospects for the evening's performance A1. We opened to a full house, and the audience appeared to enjoy the entertainment. The following evening did not pan out quite so well, in consequence of a torchlight procession through the streets and a big Grand Army parade. The night after—our farewell performance. Great Scott! A rainstorm thinned the attendance to the proportions of a fashionable church in the metropolis during summer, when the popular preacher is absent on vacation abroad, seeking after the health he never lost. How I felt can be better imagined than described. I was up against it for fair. As I told you, I was unable to settle the hotel bill at the last town, and in addition we had now the handicap of an extra hotel and railroad fare for Breadland's clerk, who according to agreement was to travel with the show until the whole account with Breadland was squared up." "The prospects were not encouraging." "No; but we managed, somehow or other, to get out of town; though when everything was fixed, including a few dollars to Breadland on account, it was a close shave. Fortunately, the railroad fares to our next stand were light and we had three days there. It was in that sylvan retreat by the flowing river we nearly met our Waterloo. Speak of bad business. It was something weird." "Misfortune and you must have been running a race." "Yes, with the filly away in the lead. But we managed to play right on. Sunday morning found me once more hors de combat, with another hotel bill unpaid and an almost empty treasury to meet it. I nearly gave up in despair. Remembering, however, that despair never yet pulled a man out of a hole, in sheer desperation I resolved once more to fall back on the expedient that carried us over the sea of troubles that beset us before we reached Bungtown." "Great Heavens! you don't mean to say you proposed to carry another hotel clerk on your staff?" queried Fogg. "I had to do something. Necessity is the prompter of ingenuity, and the suggestion came from that source. There is no use in going further into detail. I convinced the landlord and secured another secretary of the treasury to look after the income, and we got out of town next morning as happy as clams at high water. Well, without mincing matters, I must say we had as rough a road to travel any band of poor strolling Thespians ever struck." "Misfortune still in the lead?" "I should say so. Listen. We ran into the Gulf Stream of a red-hot political campaign, and I needn't tell you these torchlight processions, firework displays, and fife and drum corps knock the life out of the show business. Where we made a few dollars in one place we dropped them in another. Had it not been for a small reserve fund I had carefully treasured up for extra hazardous emergencies and my peculiar talent and diplomacy in dealing with hotel men, I verily believe it would have taken us all the winter to have reached a hospitable haven of relief, for the walking was wretched and Western railroad ties too far apart for decent pedestrianism." "By Jove!" smiled Fogg, "you must have had an anxious time from the word go." "Oh, that goes without saying. I managed to pull through and reached good warm-hearted Chicago with nine hotel clerks on my staff, all acting as treasurers, assistant treasurers, auditors, ticket-sellers, bookkeepers and financial agents, each one wondering why the box office department was receiving accessions to its ranks in the face of such bad business." "An' did they never tumble to the little joker?" "Well, I candidly admit it required the exercise of considerable tact to keep them in complete ignorance of the true situation." "Of that I have not the slightest doubt." Handy was silent a moment. "Fogg, did you ever worry over a promoter's prospectus of a proposed financial scheme prepared for the edification of the public with the laudable intention of separating people from their money?" "Some," answered Fogg, slightly mystified at the change Handy had given to the conversation. "That being the case, you can call to mind how eloquently the promoter labors to convince prospective investors how they can get in on the ground floor and lay the foundation of a fortune to be made out of a hole in the ground?" "I've heard of such things." "Do you know how it was done?" "Search me." "Well, I, too, can do a little in that line myself. I did some of the most expert word painting to my assistant financial agents or their representatives and held them together and in good fellowship until I reached my harbor." "If the question is not an indelicate one," said Fogg hesitatingly, "might I inquire if you ever paid up?" "Every dollar," quickly responded Handy. "When we reached Chicago we struck smooth water and entered upon a prosperous sea for four weeks. Money fairly poured into our coffers. One by one I sent each hotel clerk back to his employer, with a check for the money I owed him in his pocket and a receipted bill in mine. I squared up with every one I was indebted to. You know when we make money we make it fast." "And part with it as readily," added his friend. "That has nothing to do with the case, my boy. Now, let me ask you if you think I told you this moving tale of ups and downs for the mere fun of its recital, do you?" "Well, partly fun, kill time, and partly to a—a—a——" "Yes, go on. Partly to a—a—a——what? Why don't you finish the sentence?" "To illustrate the principle of a novel way to pay old debts, eh?" "Right you are," replied Handy emphatically. "And let me add, so far as you are personally concerned——" For the first time during the narration he looked thoroughly in earnest. "I'm listening." "When you ever get in a bad box or are up against it, don't lay down and brood over the hardship, but set to work with a will to get square with your troubles as becomes a man." |
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