“I wouldn’t try it for a farm in a theater,” said Joe. “But I guess I could work up nerve enough to talk into that sending apparatus. It won’t be as bad as reciting in the auditorium at high school, at any rate.”
“Don’t bank too much on it,” warned their conductor. “Mr. Allard may not think well of the plan, or he may have found some one else by this time.”
“I’ll be satisfied either way,” said Bob, philosophically. “I’d like to make a little money, all right; but, on the other hand, I’m beginning to get 200 stage fright already. If Mr. Allard turns us down it will be a relief, after all.”
But the manager, when interviewed, seemed relieved at the prospect of having their services.
“I think I can use you both very nicely this evening,” he said. “Of course, I’ll have to hear your stuff before I can tell. Suppose you let us hear one or two of your recitations, Mr. Atwood.”
“All right,” grinned Joe. “You’ll probably give me the hook before I get through, though; but you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“We’ll take a chance,” smiled the manager. “Do your worst.”
Thus exhorted, Joe recited a humorous piece he had learned recently for delivery in the elocution class, and he recited it very well, too. When he had finished Mr. Allard called for more, and Joe obliged with the only other selection in his repertoire.
“That’s first rate,” said the manager, when he had finished. “I think that ought to go all right. I think I’ll give you ten or fifteen minutes on the bill. Now, how about you, Mr. Layton? What’s your specialty?”
“I don’t own such a thing,” grinned Bob. “I know one piece that I learned for elocution, the same as Joe, but you wouldn’t want two of the same variety on the bill.” 201