“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said the proprietor finally. “I’ll pay you twenty dollars on account, and the other fifty as soon as the money is taken in at the box-office to-night.”
He held out the twenty dollars temptingly as he spoke, and the landlord took it with but little hesitation.
“Come on, Yentley,” he said to the constable. “Remember, I’ll be on hand for the balance,” he called to Nathan Wampole and departed.
Nathan Wampole growled something under his breath, and was about to pass on to the empty stage, when Carl and Leo stopped him.
“Well, what do you fellows want?” he demanded angrily. “Be quick, for Lanning is sick, and I’ve got to get up an act to fill in his time.”
“We want to know about our pay, Mr. Wampole,” said Carl.
“Your pay? As if I didn’t have enough to worry me with all this bad weather!”
“But we must have some money,” pleaded Leo. “I’ve been promising to buy myself a new suit, and——”
“I can’t help it. I can’t give you any now!” snapped Nathan Wampole.
“Then I can’t go on any more.”