“Ever since joining the company and starting to rehearse, Mr. Fowler, you have been a source of discord. Once or twice you came near flatly refusing to do some piece of business the way I suggested. Once you insolently informed me that I was not the stage manager. You completely forgot that I was the author of the piece. I have heard that you told others not to do things as I suggested, but to do them in their own way. Several times before we started out I was on the verge of releasing you, which I should have done had there been time to fill your place properly. Last night you were intoxicated when the hour arrived for the curtain to go up. You went onto the stage in an intoxicated condition. You did not do certain pieces of business as you had been instructed to do them, but as you thought they should be done, therefore ruining a number of scenes. You were insolent, and would have been fined a good round sum for it had we gone on. In a number of ways you have shown that you are a man I do not want in my company, so I shall let you go, after paying you two weeks salary. I believe I have given the best of reasons for pursuing such a course.”
Then Frank stepped past Fowler and sat down with Hodge.
The actor took his seat beside Harper, who said:
“I hope you are satisfied now!”
“Satisfied!” muttered Fowler. “I’d like to punch his head off!”
“Very likely,” nodded Harper; “but you can’t do it, you know. He is a holy terror, and you are not in his class.”
Behind them was a man who seemed to be reading a newspaper. He was holding the paper very high, so that his face could not be seen, and he was not reading at all. He was listening with the keenest interest to everything.
As Frank sat down beside Hodge he observed a look of great satisfaction on Bart’s face.
“Well, Merriwell,” said the dark-faced youth, with something like the shadow of a smile, “you have done yourself proud.”
“Let’s go forward,” suggested Merry. “The smoke is pretty thick here, and some of it from those pipes is rank. I want to talk with you.”