“I guess we needn’t worry about that,” said Wat Sanford. “From the talk that’s going round we’ll have over a hundred paid admissions, easy.”
“The crowd down at the Pavilion is beginning to take notice,” chuckled Dick Somers. “Bony Jones held me up today and wanted to know who is backing us. I made him swear to keep the secret and then told him that Henry Ford is helping us. And that’s the truth,” continued Dick, indicating the flivver by a jerk of his thumb, “Henry is furnishing the transportation.”
“There’s something I ought to tell you fellows,” began Tommy Beals, when the laugh at Dick’s joke had subsided. “I don’t suppose it really amounts to anything, but all the same it’s a bit strange.” Here Tommy paused and drew from his pocket a paper which he unfolded and passed to Ned Blake. “It’s a letter that came to Sam,” continued Beals, “and I’ll say it just about scared the daylights out of that coon. Read it, Ned.”
Ned glanced over the typewritten sheet and read aloud as follows:
“Sam G. Washington,
“I hear that you have hired my house and intend to run dances there. Now listen, you black son of Satan! If you do this, or if you allow it to be done, I’ll haunt you to your dying day.
“Eli Coleson.”
Ned paused and glanced round the circle of faces upon which was depicted surprise, doubt and uncertainty. For a moment nobody spoke. It was Tommy Beals who broke the silence.
“Sam got the letter this morning and was waiting to show it to me when I got home. I tried to laugh him out of his fright by telling him it was a joke that somebody is playing on him.”
“Of course it’s a joke!” exclaimed Charlie Rogers, impetuously. “Nobody but a superstitious darky would pay any attention to such stuff!”
“But suppose he should get scared and funk the whole thing and cancel his lease? What hold have we got on him to make him stick?” demanded Dave Wilbur.
“Not much, I’ll admit,” replied Ned, gloomily. “This letter was mailed on the train and shows only the railroad post-office mark. Evidently whoever wrote it intends to keep under cover. I wonder how many people know that the lease stands in Sam’s name?”