The kind-hearted equestrienne smiled brightly.
"Take care of the others first, Mr. Scripps," she said. "While I have these, we won't exactly starve."
Miss Stella Starr shook the glittering diamond pendants in her pretty pink ears.
"Thank you," bowed the manager, choking up a trifle. "Andy Wildwood?"
"I'm a mere speck in the show," said Andy, "but I'll stick if there isn't a cent of salary. It's the last ditch for my good, true friends, Mr. Scripps."
The manager turned aside to hide his emotion.
"Friends," he resumed an instant later, "you break me all up with this kind of talk. You're a royal, good lot. I've wired Mr. Harding that he must help us out. Stick to your posts, and no one shall lose a dollar."
There was not a dissent to his proposition as he completed calling the list of performers. Andy's action shamed some into coming into the arrangements. The manager's words encouraged others. While some few answered grudgingly, the compact was made unanimous.
"There's a crowd of hard roughs trying to make trouble," concluded Mr. Scripps. "Leave that to the tent men. Give the best show you know how, try and please the crowds, and I guess we'll win out."
Every act went excellently at the evening performance up to about the middle of the programme.