“I’ll give you five minutes to produce him. If you can’t, out go the lights.”
Realizing that matters had reached a crisis, the young magician proceeded with his act as quickly as he could. The orchestra struck up a lively air, but scarcely had they played half a dozen bars when the proprietor of the theater came out on the stage and silenced them.
“This show can’t go on, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “I haven’t been paid for the hall, and the head man of this company has skipped out with all of the funds.”
“What’s that?”
“Skipped out?”
“No more of the show?”
“That’s a shame! Give me my money back?”
A hundred other cries arose on the air. The owner of the place prudently retired, and in wonder the orchestra did the same. A second later the curtain came down, and the lights were lowered.
“Is it true that Wampole has skipped?” asked Carl of Leo hurriedly.
“Yes; and he took every cent of the receipts with him,” was the bitter answer.