By this time Frank was ready to speak.
"It won't take me long to make my proposal," he said, in his quiet way. "You are running now on the commonwealth plan, without any backing, and you all know what it will mean if you strike a few days of frost. Companies in such a condition are always on the outlook for an angel. That's where I come in. I've got some money, about five hundred dollars, and I'm here to offer myself as the angel."
Surely Frank was not talking like a person who did not fully understand the danger into which he was plunging.
Right here Cassie spoke up.
"It's mighty good of you, Frank, to make such an offer, but I don't think we've got any right to accept it."
This brought a murmur from nearly everyone present, and, tossing back her head, Cassie went on swiftly:
"Every chance is against our making a go of this thing, and we have no right to rob you of your rocks. We couldn't fill the dates booked for the original company by Barnaby Haley, and we've got no regular route staked out far enough ahead to know where we're going to land if we manage to pull along. We've got to play small towns and make the most of our stands fer one night. We'll play in halls and almost any kind of an old place where we can git in, instead of reg'lar theaters. It's goin' to be a mighty rough knocking around, and there can't be much money in it if we manage to keep on our pins—not enough to warrant anybody putting his pile behind the show. There, that's just how the land lays, and I don't believe there's anybody here dirty enough to want to rope you in without letting you know it. If there is, I'm ashamed of being out in the same company with him!"
Cassie had expressed herself in language that was plain enough so not a word could be misunderstood.
And her finish had checked anybody who was on the point of protesting.
Leslie Lawrence looked mildly disgusted.