Left Behind Part 10

Of course, now that the curtain had been wrecked, there was no opportunity for dividing the acts, and after the applause which Ben's efforts had produced died away, Mopsey sent Nelly on to sing again.

The audience greeted her kindly, as before, and not only insisted on joining in the chorus, but demanded more than she had intended to give. They were evidently determined to get the full value of their money, and, suspecting that she would appear no more that evening, dictated to her such songs as they wanted to hear.

It was of no use for her to refuse, for they insisted upon their demands being complied with so noisily that the performance could not proceed until they were ready. She stood there singing until she was hoa.r.s.e, while the entire company waited, in battle-array, for the time to come when they should make their last appearance in the great combat.

It was nearly half an hour before Nelly was allowed to go; and as soon as she was clear of the stage the waiting forces rushed on, displaying the most wonderful skill with their swords.

It would not be exactly correct to say that all of the company rushed on, for d.i.c.key made his appearance very carefully. Of course he was obliged to come sideways, and he moved with great caution, lest he should fall down again, thus working more damage to the covers of Mrs.

Green's wash-boilers. But he got on with the others, even if he was slower in his movements, and soon was in the very midst of the mimic battle, apparently the most wounded one there, judging from the blows that were rained upon his armor.

The combatants had soon found out that their stage was hardly large enough for the movements of an army of five with such long swords, and that the greatest caution must be used to prevent serious injury to some of them. Therefore, when Mopsey hit a resounding blow on the front-piece of d.i.c.key's armor with the back of his sword, all saw that the din of battle could be represented in that way much better and with less danger than by clashing their swords together.

And thus it happened that poor d.i.c.key found himself in the midst of a blood-thirsty crowd, each one pounding him on the chest or back, while he was unable to parry the attack, save when some one incautiously moved towards his sword-arm. He cried for mercy at the full force of his lungs, while Mrs. Green shouted the same request because of her tin-ware. The audience were equally divided in opinion as to whether Macbeth had been punished enough, and still the blows were delivered with such force and noise that one would have thought an army of tinsmiths were at work.

How long this unequal combat might have gone on it is impossible to say; for when d.i.c.key found that he was likely to have no mercy shown him so long as the audience was so well pleased, he dropped to his knees, and then tried to roll off the stage. Of course, he could roll over no more easily than a turtle, but he had stopped the supposed sanguinary fight, and he was satisfied. Having no one on whom they could wreak their vengeance without considerable danger to themselves, the combatants dispersed, and not until then did Mopsey remember that the very one whom they had been using so roughly was the one upon whom they depended to close the performance.

When the self-elected manager thought of this, he called to Ben to help him set the vanquished Macbeth on his feet, and to get him in dancing condition. It was quite an easy matter to get the tin-encased hero on his feet, but quite another matter to bolster him up so that he could dance. d.i.c.key was wearied with long standing, sore from the effects of the pounding, and so thoroughly cured of his desire to wear an armor, that all he thought of or wanted was to get where he could take off the trappings of war, and become a humble boot-blacking citizen once more. In fact he utterly refused to dance, which would really have been an impossibility, unless he had been relieved from the embarra.s.sment of the boiler covers, and Ben and Johnny went on in a double clog to give a proper finish to the performance.

[Ill.u.s.tration: d.i.c.kEY FOUND HIMSELF IN THE MIDST OF A BLOOD-THIRSTY CROWD.]

Inasmuch as there was no curtain, it was found necessary for Mopsey to go forward and announce that the evening's entertainment was finished--an announcement which the audience was not inclined to accept as a fact. They utterly refused to leave their seats, and it was not until Nelly had appeared and sung three more songs that they left the theatre. Then, although they drew some comparisons between that theatre and others which they had attended, which were certainly not very favorable to Mopsey, they departed, apparently very well satisfied that they had received the full worth of their money.

The entertainment had lasted fully two hours, and every one of the performers, but more especially d.i.c.key, was greatly pleased when the last one of the audience pa.s.sed out of the door. It would be stating it all too mildly to say that Mrs. Green was relieved when they had gone. The good woman had been in a deplorable condition of fear since the time the first hearty applause was raised, and she had been seriously afraid that they would go through the floor of her attic in some of their more vigorous manifestations of pleasure.

Before the last one of their patrons had left the hall d.i.c.key had asked Paul to help him cast aside the uncomfortable costume of Macbeth. When that was done, Master Spry stated most emphatically that if he ever acted again it would be in some part where the use of armor was entirely forbidden.

As a matter of course, the first thing the partners were anxious about, after their patrons had departed, was to know how large their profits were from that evening's excessive labor. Without waiting to change their costumes, save as has been related in the case of d.i.c.key, they gathered around Mrs. Green, who was beginning to recover some of the senses that had been frightened from her. She and Paul counted the money she had in her ap.r.o.n, and the amount was found to be three dollars and five cents. There was already in Treasurer Paul's hands eight dollars and sixty cents, and when it was announced that the evening's performance had netted them the very handsome amount of eleven dollars and sixty-five cents, the joy of the partners showed itself in many extravagant ways.

Ben proposed, and the boys agreed to it willingly, that one dollar of that amount be paid to Mrs. Green for the use of the attic. This being so much more than she had expected, caused her to look upon the theatrical enterprise as a gigantic success.

Then quite a discussion arose as to what should be done with the funds on hand. Mopsey was in favor of making an immediate division; but such a plan was thought by the others to be most unwise. d.i.c.key proposed that a certain sum be set aside as working capital, and the balance divided among them all, including Nelly, of course, since she had contributed in no slight degree to the success of the entertainment.

This appeared satisfactory to the majority of the party, and would probably have been done if Ben, who had taken no part in the discussion, but appeared to be thinking deeply of something, had not said,

"I've got a plan that I reckon you'll all agree to; but I don't want to tell what it is yet awhile. Now I say, let's let Paul keep it till Monday night; it won't spoil if we don't divide it till then."

Since there was no good reason why this request should not be granted, and since Ben seemed so anxious to have it left that way, the rest of the partners agreed quite willingly. Then the tired company of actors crept off to bed, proud in the belief that their venture had been a success, but anxious to rest.

CHAPTER XII.

A GENEROUS ACT.

On Monday morning before they parted, and while d.i.c.key was still their guest, Ben was very mysterious in his actions. He avoided Paul so much that one would have said he suspected the treasurer of having embezzled some of the funds of the concern.

But if any one knowing him had suspected that such was the case, that supposition would have been rejected as soon as a full view had been had of his face. He appeared to be in the most perfect good-humor, but considerably excited. Before he left the house he had succeeded in whispering these same words to Mopsey, d.i.c.key, and Johnny, without having been overheard by Paul:

"Meet me at Nelly's stand 'bout 'leven o'clock, an' don't let Polly know anything about it."

The only one of that party who had not been in the best of spirits during the Sabbath, when Mrs. Green had exacted a due observance of the day by her boarders, was Paul, and he had been very sad. It was the second Sunday that had pa.s.sed since he had been so unfortunately separated from his parents, and his distress of mind seemed to have increased, instead of being soothed, by time; in fact, as the days pa.s.sed on, and he still found himself very far from accomplishing his purpose, he began to despair of ever succeeding.

As successful as they had been with their theatrical enterprise, the proceeds were not as large as he had expected; and when he figured out the amount which was each one's share, he realized that it would be very long before he could get from that source money enough to buy his ticket home.

A few days previous to the giving of the entertainment, he had asked at one of the numerous ticket-offices on Broadway how much they would sell him a ticket for, and had been told that he could go for half fare, which would be fourteen dollars--a sum of money which seemed almost a fortune to him. During that day Ben had talked with him about his chances of getting home, what he would do when he got there, and many questions about his relatives, all of which Paul had answered readily, although it added to his distress to speak of such matters.

When Monday came, and the boys started out to attend to their business duties, Paul noticed that there was an evident anxiety on the part of all his companions to avoid him. This pained him more than he would have been willing to admit, and it was with a heavy heart that he went about his work, wondering what he had done to cause any change in their feelings towards him.

As all of that theatrical company had expected, they heard many criticisms on the performance they had given, and it seemed as though all of their patrons bestowed more time on giving them advice for future guidance than on their regular business. Some advised that Sat.u.r.day evening performances be given each week, a.s.suring the firm of their support during the entire season. Others were so unkind as to advise that a small theatre be built for Mopsey, where he could take all the parts himself, and very many had suggestions to give d.i.c.key as to the kind of armor he should wear the next time he played the part of Macbeth.

Some of this advice d.i.c.key received in a kindly spirit, a.s.suring his friends of his determination never to play a part again that required any such uncomfortable costume; but to others he displayed considerable ill-feeling, and was so unwise as to be angry, when he should have remembered that as the public's servant, in the capacity of an actor, he was obliged to hear their criticisms. But the partners were made happy by knowing that, in the majority of individual cases they heard of, their performance had given satisfaction, and that if they could only get a new play, since they had exhausted all of Shakespeare's in one evening, they might feel a.s.sured of considerable patronage again.

Having been told of this at an early hour in the morning, Mopsey set about the task of writing, or thinking of, another play immediately; and it was said by those who watched him closely that he drove away at least four customers that forenoon by his seeming discourtesy, while he was trying to decide how a new play could be arranged.

At eleven o'clock, agreeably to the appointment made by Ben, all the partners, except Paul, met at Mrs. Green's fruit-stand, wondering not a little as to why they had been summoned. Ben was there, almost bursting with importance; and when he found that all, including Mrs.

Green and Nelly, were ready to listen to him, he said, as if he were again on the stage:

"I've got a big plan, an' I hope you'll all think jest the same about it that I do. You know how bad Polly feels 'cause he can't git back to his folks, for you see how he moped round yesterday when we was all feelin' so good. Now, I jest come from a place where they sell railroad tickets, an' I found out that a little feller like him can get to Chicager for fourteen dollars."

"It won't be long before he gets that much, if nothin' happens to the theatre," said Mopsey, much as if he had been speaking of a gold-mine.

"Not long!" echoed Ben, almost contemptuously; "it'll take him longer than you think for if he depends on that. I asked him yesterday to figger up an' see how much every one would have after payin' Mother Green, an' he made it a dollar'n seventy cents. Now that's a healthy pile ter go to Chicager on, ain't it?"

"Well, how can he fix it any other way?" asked d.i.c.key, in considerable surprise, not understanding what Ben was trying to get at.

"I'll tell you how we can. We can all turn to, Mother Green an' all, an' give him the whole of the money. Then he won't have to git only a little over two dollars to fix him right, an' I reckon me an' Johnny can fix him out on that."

The partners looked at each other in surprise as this startling proposition of Ben's was understood by them. For some moments no one spoke, and then d.i.c.key said, as if his mind was made up so firmly that it would be impossible for any one to try to change it,

"He can have my share, an' I'll 'gree to put in enough more to make up as much as he's got to have jest as soon as I kin earn it."

"Good for you, d.i.c.key," said Nelly, admiringly, knowing that the ruined merchant's offer meant a great deal, coming at a time when he was almost penniless. "Mother an' I'll put in our share, won't we, mother?"

"Indeed we will," replied Mrs. Green; and before she could say any more Johnny spoke up,

"Of course I'm in for anything Ben is, 'cause he's my partner, an' I'm mighty glad he thought of such a thing."

Mopsey was the only one who appeared to be at all averse to the generous deed, and there seemed to be a great struggle going on in his mind, when he should have been the first to agree to it, since he had more money than all the others save Mrs. Green.

"Shame on you, Mopsey, for not speaking right up, and saying that you'll do as much as the others will," cried Nelly, in great excitement, lest one of the party should frustrate the others in their good work.

"Why don't you give a feller a chance to say what he'll do?" replied Mopsey, angry with himself for having hesitated at such a time. "I'm willin' to come in with the rest, only I want to think it over first."

"Then you'll agree to it, will you?" asked Ben, anxious for the success of his plan.

"Of course I will; didn't I say so?" asked the pea-nut merchant, sulkily.