“Can’t we? Well, get your paste and brush, and we’ll see if we can. Be lively, now, for I must catch a train to-night, and I’ve got some hustling to do.”
The janitor seemed dazed. He got his paste bucket and brush, and then he and Frank started out. They began with the board on the side of the opera house.
“Gracious!” gasped the janitor, as they prepared to put the paper on. “What will King do?”
“He has done what he had no right to do now, and he can’t do anything about this. Our paper is going up on these boards to stay till the night we play here.”
“That’ll give King only one day of advertising on the billboards.”
“That’s not my concern. If he makes a date to play in a town one day behind another show, he must take his chances on the advertising he can secure. You can see that he is a scoundrel, or he would not have resorted to the trick to obtain these boards.”
“But how do you explain the action of Collins?”
“Don’t explain it. Haven’t time.”
They were fairly at work when the janitor looked up the street and saw Delvin Riddle rushing in that direction, exhibiting unmistakable signs of wrath.
It was plain Riddle had been in Salacia before, and was known to the janitor, for that individual dropped his brush, gasping: