All these facts were known to the performers, and over the same they were brooding that dismal rainy afternoon, awaiting the coming of the manager.
"Here he is," spoke an eager voice, and Mr. Scripps bustled into the tent.
He rubbed his hands briskly and smiled at everybody, but Andy saw that this was all put on. Lines of care and anxiety showed about the plucky manager's eyes and lips.
"Well, my friends," he spoke at once. "We've arrived at a decision."
"Good," commented Marco. "Let's have it."
"I have had a talk with the lawyers who hold the executions against the show, I have suggested four nights and two matinees at half-price, papering four counties liberally. We'll announce only the attractions we really have, so there can be no kicking. What is taken in the treasurer is to hand over to the sheriff. He is to pay fifty per cent on claims against us. The balance, minus expenses, is to go for salaries. I should say that we can pay each performer a full half salary. There's the situation, friends. What do you say?"
"Satisfactory," nodded Marco.
"Billy Blow?"
"I've got pretty heavy expenses, with a wife in the hospital," said the clown in a subdued tone, "but I'll try and make half salary do."
"Miss Starr?"