“We’re ready any time you are, sir,” was Bob’s comment.
“All right, then,” said Mr. Allard, crisply. “It’s time now, Morton,” addressing the announcer. “You can go ahead and announce Layton’s act.” 208
This the announcer did, and then, tense with excitement but thoroughly master of himself, Bob stepped to the transmitter and propounded the first of his conundrums. With book in hand, Larry stood at his elbow to prompt him in case he forgot anything, but his friendly services were not needed. Bob went through the whole list without a mistake and with no fumbling, speaking clearly and distinctly into the transmitter. Although he could not see his audience, he nevertheless sensed the listening thousands, and felt the lift and exhilaration that come to the successful entertainer. His part in the programme was short, a scant ten minutes, but he enjoyed every minute of it.
When he had asked the last riddle, he stepped back, and mopped big drops of perspiration from his face.
“Whew!” he exclaimed. “I’m glad that’s over, although it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”
“You’ve got to go all through it again when you give the answers,” Larry reminded him, cruelly.
“I guess I can stand it,” said Bob. “Did I do it all right?”
“Sure you did,” they all assured him. “It was good work.”
In a little while the time came for Joe to give 209 his recitations, and he, too, did good work. It was easy to see that the manager was pleased with both of them, and, indeed, he did not hesitate to say so.
“If you fellows didn’t live so far away, I’d be glad to make you a regular part of the programme,” he told them later. “You both have a good delivery, and I can see that Brandon was right when he said you didn’t lack nerve. It’s too bad you don’t live in this town.”