"I have just parted with the boss of the spielers," said Weston, "and I am a bit disappointed. I don't think we can get them to do the street parade stunt, but for the night job they will be all O. K."
"What do you mean by the street parade stunt?" inquired Handy, in some surprise. "That's a new one on me."
"Well, I thought it would be a great scheme if we could get the Phillies to get out their wind instruments and play a few tunes through the main street from the station up to the new Academy the afternoon of the show. You know I have a couple of dozen army overcoats in the storeroom. The spielers could wear them. Then when they got to the Academy they could shed their street armor, hide their wind instruments, and start in on the string instruments in their glad rags."
Handy smiled, and asked: "How did you succeed?"
"Couldn't work the street racket."
"Why?"
"Because the men had to work at their regular jobs. Wagner is a shoemaker. He works the trombone in the streets and the bull fiddle under cover. The man that works the cornet in the outside operates the fiddle on the inside, and he's a dandy at it. He's a tailor, and a good one. He made the coat that's on my back; the man that——"
"Hold on. That's enough!" broke in Handy. "I'm just as well pleased you didn't get them to do that street stunt. But you are sure there will be no disappointment for the night's performance?"
"Sure. They are all anxious to go. But Herr Wagner wants his name to be mentioned on the bills as leader and president of the Handel and Hayden Philharmonic Society."
"All right. He will have a line on the bills."