Ahead of the Show Part 5

CHAPTER VIII.

A STARTLING SITUATION.

Everyone in the house stared at Al, and Mr. Wattles whispered in his ear: "Why, he means you! What have you been up to? I tell you, this is a great night for Boomville."

Evidently Maj. Duncan expected some acknowledgment of his compliment from Al, for after a moment's silence he added: "I repeat, I refer to the young gentleman yonder, Mr. Allen Allston."

"Get up and bow," whispered the manager, in our hero's ear.

Scarcely knowing what he was doing, Al obeyed.

The entire audience applauded, although there were not three persons among them who knew why they did it.

"Will the young gentleman kindly step upon the stage?" went on the major.

Without speaking, Mr. Wattles seized the boy by the arm, and fairly dragged him through a narrow door in the rear of the box.

"This is the easiest way of getting on the stage," he said. "I wonder what they have got on foot. They ought to have told us. In a case like this it is always the proper caper to have a witty impromptu speech ready, and they ought to have given you a chance to prepare one at your leisure--they really ought. But this is not New York. Now, then, my boy, step out on the stage. Don't you hear them shouting for you?"

But Al held back.

"I don't understand all this," he said. "What do they want with me?"

"Go and find out."

"But----"

"Allston! Allston!" came from all parts of the theater.

"Go on!"

And Mr. Wattles fairly pushed his companion upon the stage.

It is not necessary to say that Al was greatly embarra.s.sed as he confronted the sea of faces. His appearance was greeted with wild cheers, though the audience did not know what they were cheering about.

In a few moments silence was again restored through the efforts of Maj. Duncan, who then cleared his throat and began: "It may not be known to many of you that we have a hero, a genuine hero, among us, but it is a fact. And that hero now stands blushingly upon the stage before us. Ladies and gentlemen, picture to yourselves this scene--a team of maddened horses rushing at a terrible rate of speed directly for a spot where a defenseless child has fallen on the highway. Apparently the little girl is doomed to a horrible death. The spectators stand spellbound--all save one, a youth. He rushes forward and, at the risk of his own life, saves the child from the fate that a moment before seemed inevitable. That youth, ladies and gentlemen, was Allen Allston; the little girl he rescued was the child of our mayor."

The major's rather theatrical speech was here interrupted by frantic applause, much to the orator's gratification and Al's embarra.s.sment.

When silence once more reigned the major went on: "It is not necessary that I enlarge upon the heroism displayed by this n.o.ble youth; it is evident to all of you, and the performance has already, perhaps, been delayed too long. I will close by requesting the acceptance by Mr. Allston of this token of esteem and appreciation from Mayor Anderson, who has delegated to me the most agreeable duty of making the presentation speech. Take it, my young friend; and always wear it in remembrance of those whom you have placed under so heavy a debt of grat.i.tude."

As he spoke Maj. Duncan extended a diamond ring to the boy.

Al was obliged to cross the stage to receive it. By this time he had partially regained his usual self-possession. He took the ring with a graceful bow, and attempted to speak.

But the effort proved a total failure. The words stuck in his throat; he could only give utterance to an inaudible murmur.

"Speech, speech!" cried a dozen or more persons, but Al was unable to gratify their wishes. In great confusion he retired to the comparative seclusion of the stage, where Mr. Wattles met him and grasped his hand.

"I had no idea you were a hero," he said. "But why didn't you make a speech? Oh, I understand--stage fright. Well, never mind, you're the hero of the hour, anyway. Isn't that ring a sparkler! Just completes your outfit as advance agent; they always wear a diamond ring, you know. Well, this is a great night, and no mistake."

By this time the performance had been resumed. It was brought to a successful conclusion two hours later, Mrs. Anderson having been called before the curtain no less than ten times.

"I'm glad everything went off so well," said Mr. Wattles to Al, when the audience had dispersed. "I was a little afraid that fellow, Farley, would try to make some trouble for us. He's just about crazy enough from drink to do something desperate if the idea occurred to him. Look out for him, Allston."

"I'm not afraid of him," said Al.

"Nevertheless, be on your guard. Well, didn't everything go off in great shape? That presentation alone will be worth a good many dollars to the show. Accounts of it will be published all over the country."

"I wish they had given me the ring in private," said Al.

"You do? Well, I don't! You must get over some of that modesty of yours; you won't need it in your career as advance agent. Going now? Well, good-night. You'll be ready to start for the next town at noon to-morrow?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Look out for Farley on your way home."

"I'm not worrying about him," laughed Al. "I guess you're more afraid of him than I am, sir. Good-night."

Al lived a little way out of the town. To get home it was necessary for him to ride for half an hour in a horse car, and then to walk some distance along a lonely country road.

Singular to say, the subject that engrossed his thoughts during the ride was not the events of the day, not the new career that he was about to begin. One face was constantly before his mental vision, the face of the beautiful young girl--Miss Gladys March, the bills called her--who had played the part of Ethel Darlington.

Why did her face haunt him so persistently? he asked himself. She was a complete stranger to him, yet, somehow, he felt as if he had known her all his life.

His thoughts were still on her when he left the car and began his lonely walk.

So absorbed was he in meditation that he did not notice that from the moment he alighted from the car he was followed at a short distance by a man whose face was concealed by a high coat collar and a slouch hat.

The full moon was shining brightly, but Al's pursuer lurked in the shadows of the trees and shrubbery that lined the road on either side.

For half an hour this pursuit of the boy continued; then the man gave a shrill whistle.

As Al turned, three masked men sprang from a clump of bushes on his left and seized him. Before he could cry out a gag was thrust into his mouth. A few moments later he was bound hand and foot.

Then one of his a.s.sailants lifted him in his arms and bore him up a side road, near which the a.s.sault had been committed. A covered wagon stood in waiting here. Al was placed in it; then his captors and the man who had followed him from the car, entered, and the vehicle was driven rapidly away.

At the expiration of, perhaps, half an hour the wagon was brought to a standstill, and Al was lifted out.

It was a strange sight that met his gaze.

Half a dozen masked men were a.s.sembled under a tree, over one of the boughs of which was flung a stout rope.

One of the strange party stepped forward and removed the gag from the boy's mouth, saying: "If you have any last remarks to make, make 'em now, and be quick about it. We don't propose to fool away any time on this job."

"What does all this mean?" gasped Al. "What are you going to do?"

"We're going to string you up in just about two minutes at the outside," was the reply; "so if you have anything to say you'd better hurry."

CHAPTER IX.

A CLOSE CALL.

"You are going to murder me?" the boy cried.

"Well, we don't put it just that way," was the cool reply of the man who had spoken before.

"How do you put it, then?"

"We are going to execute you. In cases like yours the law is a little too slow for us, so we have const.i.tuted ourselves judge, jury, executioners and all the rest of it. Young fellow, you've stolen your last horse."

The truth flashed upon Al.

For several weeks residents of the neighborhood of Boomville--princ.i.p.ally farmers--had been the victims of a clever horse thief, who had, since he began operations, stolen a number of valuable animals. The authorities seemed to be powerless in the matter, although they professed to be using every possible means to bring the thief to justice. Only one clew had been gained; one of the stolen horses had been sold to a farmer in a village about fifty miles distant by a youth of about sixteen, who had given a plausible reason to the simple-minded purchaser for having the animal in his possession. The farmer had been able to give a quite minute description of the boy. Al had read that description, and now remembered, with a sinking of the heart, that it would apply to him fully as well as to the thief for whom he was taken.

"See here," he exclaimed, impetuously, "you are making a terrible mistake! I am not the person you think me to be."

"That's all right," was the sarcastic response of the spokesman of the crowd. "I told you we were not going to waste any words on you, and we are not."

"String him up!" shouted another of the party. "Get the job done with! We're taking big chances in delaying the thing."

"That's right!"

"H'ist the derned hoss thief, then!"

"We've had enough chin music; let's get to work."

These were a few of the comments of the would-be executioners.

One man now stepped to the front. It was he who had followed Al from the town. He had now donned a mask like the rest of the party.

"I'll do the job," he said. "Will you leave it to me, gents?"

Al started. Where had he heard that voice? Before any reply could be made he said, in a loud, clear voice: "Gentlemen, I am innocent of this crime. My name is Allen Allston. I live in Boomville. Hundreds of people there know me, and can tell you what my reputation is. Why, I should not have the slightest trouble in proving an alibi. If you murder me, you will all bitterly regret it some day. You do not want to commit a murder; you want to do what you think an act of justice. You are making an awful mistake; give me a chance, and I will prove it."

These words had a visible effect upon the desperate men. They began to converse together in a low tone--all but the man who had followed Al; he stood aloof from the rest.

"See here," he presently said, in a voice that Al noticed trembled slightly, "if you gents have any more time to fool away here I haven't. I don't propose to get into any trouble through this thing. I have tried to do you a service, but you don't seem to appreciate it."

"We don't want to make any mistake," said the spokesman.

"But you're not making any mistake. Don't I tell you I know the boy, that he is the same one that sold me the horse last week?"

Here Al interposed.

"Do you claim," he asked, "that you are the farmer to whom the horse thief sold one of the stolen animals last week?"

"I do; and I recognize you as the person. It's no use, my fine fellow, the jig's up. I've been shadowing you for some time, and I've got you down fine."

Al turned to the group of men, who had been listening in silence to the brief dialogue.

"Gentlemen," he said, "do any of you know the farmer who bought the horse from the thief? Could any one of you swear to his ident.i.ty?"

The spokesman replied, this time using a gentler tone than before.

"No, my lad," he said, "not one of us ever saw the man until to-night."

"You don't see him now," said Al. "I do not believe that this is the man at all. He is some enemy of mine, who has imposed upon you for his own personal ends."

"Bah!" interrupted the subject of discussion, "are we to stand here all night listening to this sort of stuff? The young villain is only trying to gain time. Of course, if he will steal, he will lie."

"All I ask is a fair trial," said Al, "but I see I cannot get that here. However, gentlemen, if you must kill some one, don't kill the wrong man. It looks to me a good deal as if this fellow were the real thief, and that he was trying to throw dust in your eyes. None of you ever saw him before, you say. Now, perhaps I have seen him. Let me see his face; it may be that I can identify him."

"That's fair enough."

"That's all right."

"Off with your mask, stranger, and let the boy see your face."

It was evident that the sentiment of the crowd was turning in Al's favor.

"Why should I show him my face?" said the boy's accuser. "All the rest of you are masked."

"We'll take off our masks if you take off yours," said the spokesman. "Eh, boys?"

"Ay! ay!" came from the others.

Still the stranger hesitated.

"It's risky for all of us," he said. "Have done with this nonsense. If you are going to do away with the thief, get to work; if you're not, why, let him go. We can't stand here all night chinning."

"Off with your mask!" said the leader of the crowd, sternly.

"All right," said the fellow, desperately; "I agree. Off with yours, then, all of you."

Several of the crowd removed their masks. The stranger raised his hand, as if to take his off, but instead of doing so, he turned suddenly and made a rush for a thick growth of wood near which the scene we have just described had been enacted. In a few moments--before his companions could recover from their astonishment--he had disappeared.

"After him, Hammond and Thompson, and you, Porter!" shouted the leader. "Don't let him get away from you."