CHAPTER XXV. A TREACHEROUS TRICK.
They looked on, not even Havener venturing to take her from him.
"They said ye wouldn't forgive me!" came thickly from the old man. "They said I'd killed you, my sunshine—my little bird! And even if I hadn't killed you, they said you'd hate me!"
"No, no, pop! It wasn't you—it was the whisky! I know, pop—I know!"
"I won't touch it any more, girl—I swear I won't! I've broken my word a hundred times, but I'll keep it this time! Oh, my little pet! What did I do? I was crazy! A devil was in me!"
"Yes, pop, a devil that causes no end of misery in this world. Oh, oh, my side! How it hurts! Oh, pop—such dreadful pain!"
The old man began to weep.
"Get a doctor!" he entreated, looking up, tears streaming from his eyes and making tracks down his painted cheeks. "Somebody go for a doctor!"
"Give her to me!" ordered Havener. "I'll take her out and put her on the couch."
"Can't I? I will! Get away! Let me!"
Then, to the amazement of all, old Dan rose to his feet, lifting Cassie in his arms.
She moaned with pain.
"Room!" cried old Dan, hoarsely.
He marched out by the door, carried her to the couch, placed her on it, and knelt beside her.
The others followed and gathered about.
Cassie continued to moan with pain.
"What can be done for her?" asked Havener, great beads of perspiration standing out on his forehead.
"Frank!"
Cassie called.
Merry quickly bent over her, and she whispered:
"The morphine—I must have it! It will help me some. It is in my make-up box in the dressing room. Bring it."
Frank did not hesitate, but hastened to get what she required. However, before allowing her to use it, he called everyone away, except old Dan and Havener.
Then it was that, for a second time that evening, Ephraim came rushing behind the scenes, showing great excitement.
"Say, Frank," he cried, "b'gosh, they've done it!"
"Done what?" said Merriwell, puzzled.
"They have."
"Done what?"
"Got the money, by thutteration!"
"What money?"
"All the money taken at the door."
"What's that? What do you mean? Who's got it?"
"Them two sneaks—same ones, Sargent and Cates."
"Sargent and Cates? Why——"
Then Frank remembered that he had seen nothing of Cates since the play was over. This was not very strange, considering all that had occurred.
"Why, you must be mistaken, Ephraim!" he said. "They made an agreement with me that they would not——"
"What's their agreements good fer, Frank? I tell yeou it was a trick, an' they've got all the money. They had the sheriff ready ter make the grab the minute the show was over."
Frank followed Ephraim out to the box office, and there he found the Vermonter had told the truth. He had been deceived by the two actors, and they had attached the receipts.
Sargent and Cates were there. Frank looked them over, intense scorn in his manner.
"So this is the way you fellows keep promises!" he exclaimed.
"Oh, you're easy, Merriwell!" said Cates, attempting to carry it off with a laugh. "If you stay in the business, you'll sprout your pin-feathers after a while. With us it was a case of do you or get left, and we do not fancy getting left."
"And so you did me."
"Well, we made a strike for our money, and we've got it. You'll have something left after settling with us."
"I shall not be able to settle with you in full to-night," said Frank, grimly.
"You can't help it," sneered Sargent.
"As far as the money goes, I shall make a settlement," came from Frank; "but that will not square the bill. I shall still owe you something, and I trust the time will come when I'll be able to square the account."
They could not misunderstand him.
"Oh, is that what you are driving at?" grinned Cates. "Well, we won't let that worry us. We'll take our chances of getting anything else you may fancy you owe us after we receive our money."
"I presume you'll not need our services any more?" said Sargent, also resorting to sarcasm.
"No!" exclaimed Frank. "I am done with you."
"Thanks!" murmured both actors, together.
"You can fill our places with the Dutchman and the Yankee," snickered Cates. "They will make great actors."
"You have shown your incompetence by carrying them around with the company," declared Sargent. "What have they done? The Dutchman has passed around a few bills and looked after the baggage, while the Yankee has taken tickets at the door. They have been a needless expense. You don't know how to run a show!"
"Hardly!" agreed Cates.
"I hardly think it is necessary for you to make any comments on my management of the company."
"Oh, it isn't necessary, but it may do you some good."
"You are very anxious to do something to benefit me, I see!"
"As long as it won't harm us."
Frank reckoned up with the manager of the theater, and he found there would be something like thirty dollars left over after paying Sargent and Cates what was due them and making the proper dividend with the manager of the house.
"Oh, you'll be able to settle hotel bills," laughed Cates.
Frank said nothing, and the two actors took their money and departed.
Yes, there would be enough to settle hotel bills, but not enough to carry the entire company to the next town. Looking the affair squarely in the face, Merriwell realized that they were stranded at last!
He did not know how badly Cassie was injured, but now he hastened back to see if anyone had been sent for a doctor. He was astonished to find the girl sitting up.
"Why, Cassie!" he cried; "you are all right!"
She smiled weakly, held out her hand, and drew him down.
"It's the morphine," she whispered in his ear. "I can feel the pain now, but the stuff helps me bear it. I'll have to keep full of the drug till the pain goes away, and then the stuff will have a firmer hold than ever on me. I reckon this is the thing that does me up. I can see my finish!"
Havener was near.
"What is it I hear?" he asked. "They're saying Sargent and Cates attached the box office after all."
"It's right," confessed Frank. "They have received every dollar I owed them."
"It's my fault we didn't look out for them," declared the stage manager. "I should have known what they would do. And Sargent—it was that skunk who told old Dan where you hid his whisky!"
"Yes."
"Then he is responsible for what happened to Cassie! Let him keep out of my way!"
"Oh, Ross!" cried the girl.
"Let him keep out of my way!" repeated Havener, his face working with passion. "I'll kill the cursed whelp if we meet!"
"Ross! Ross!"
"It's what he deserves! He ought to be hanged!"
"That's right," muttered Frank.