“And there is the cat now!” exclaimed Vance, as the same black cat came walking serenely onto the stage.
“Yes, here is the cat,” said Frank, who overheard the exclamation. “She was called a hoodoo before. I have determined that she shall be a mascot, and it is pretty hard to get me to give anything up when I am determined upon it.”
“Well, I haven’t a word to say!” declared Agnes Kirk, but she looked several words with her eyes.
The rehearsal began and progressed finely till it was time for Burns to enter. The old actor came on, but when he tried to say his lines the words seemed to stick in his throat and choke him. Several times he started, but finally he broke down and turned to Frank, appealingly, saying, huskily:
“I can’t! I can’t! It is a mockery and an insult to the dead Bard of Avon! It’s no use! I give it up. I need the money, but I cannot insult the memory of William Shakespeare by making a burlesque of his immortal works!”
Then he staggered off the stage.
CHAPTER X.—AT THE FOOT OF THE BED.
Late that evening, after the work and rehearsing of the day was over, Frank, Bart and Ephraim gathered in the room of the first-mentioned and discussed matters.
“I told you Burns was no good,” said Hodge, triumphantly, “I knew how it would be, but he showed up sooner than I expected. I suppose you will get rid of him in a hurry now?”
“I think not,” answered Merry, quietly.