It was here that one evening Ralph, for the first time, learnt what it is to work without a salary.
He was sitting on a basket, waiting for his cue, with “Pendennis” to cheer him into forgetfulness of fatigue and cold, when Dudley returned to the dressing-room, with an odd look lurking about the corners of his mouth.
“The ghost walks,” he said, in sepulchral tones.
“What do you mean?” said Ralph, laughing.
“It’s all very well to laugh. You won’t be able to do that long. There’s no treasury to-morrow, my boy. ‘The manager regrets,’ etc., etc.”
“No treasury!” echoed Ralph, blankly.
“I’m not surprised,” said Dudley; “I was always doubtful whether Skoot would hold out long. But we may have better luck at Dundee.”
“And if not, how are we to live?” asked Ralph, recollecting how small a sum he had to fall back upon.
“Why, my dear boy, we must live like the birds of the air, who eat other folk’s property, and then fly away.” Ralph looked gloomy.
“Well, after all,” he said, “the debts will virtually be Skoot’s, not ours. And, as you say, other places may not be so bad as Perth has been.”