A group of stragglers listened in silence to their conversation, gazing at them with that peculiar and unaccountable reverence that many people feel for members of the theatrical profession.
"It's pretty tough," said Mr. Perley, "but it isn't my fault."
"I know it isn't. Well, this is the last time that loafer will play that trick on me. He thinks that because I have been easy with him in the past there is no end to my patience. I'll show him that he is making the mistake of his life."
"Of course, you will discharge him?"
"You had better believe I will. A healthy sort of advance agent he is! Think of my bringing my company to a town of the importance of Boomville, to find that absolutely no advance work has been done, that my advance agent, to whom I pay a fancy salary, has not even showed his face in the town."
"I suppose he has succumbed to his old complaint?" said Mr. Perley.
"Of course; he is drunk beyond the shadow of a doubt, and may not show up again for a week. Well, when he does, he'll meet with a warm reception from me. We ought to have had an eight-hundred-dollar house to-night, and now we'll be lucky if we take in half that amount."
"I don't expect we'll do as well as that. It wouldn't have made so much difference under ordinary circumstances, but, as luck will have it, they've got the strongest attraction of the season at the other house—the 'Crack of Doom' Company. You know that's a big puller everywhere."
"Sure. They have a railway collision, a tank of real water, a buzz saw and two real lunatics in the insane asylum scene."
"Yes, and their advance man has worked the show up in great shape here. According to him, the leading lady lost nine thousand dollars' worth of diamonds on her way here, and the soubrette is going to marry Chauncey Depew. And they give souvenirs to-night in honor of the five hundredth performance of the piece."