“Reading about that Almsburg robbery, eh?” questioned Guffy. “Say — those birds pulled something, didn’t they? Got away with about fifty thousand bucks. Almsburg’s near here, ain’t it?”
“About thirty miles away,” responded Tex. “I wasn’t reading about the robbery, though. It don’t interest me. Sit down, Cap. I want to talk to you.”
“Maybe you was reading about this,” chuckled Cap. “More hokum about that missing heiress, Lucy Aldon. Girl out in Cincinnati claims to be the girl, eh? Well, it don’t look like she’s getting away with it. Here’s a statement from the Aldon lawyer — look at the name of the gazebo — Adoniram Towne.”
“Forget the paper,” growled Tex. “It’s the bunk. Here. Give it to me!”
He yanked the newspaper from Cap’s hands. Guffy’s fists began to clench. Tex pulled a cigar from his pocket and began to chew on the end.
“Getting kind of grouchy, eh, Tex?” quizzed Cap. “What’s the idea — grabbing a newspaper while I’m reading it? Hand it back to me. I want to see the rest about the Aldon millions.”
“She ain’t the gal,” returned Tex, crumpling the newspaper and throwing it under a desk. “That lawyer with the funny name said she ain’t. It’s just some more of that bunk you read in the papers. That robbery don’t mean anything to us, either. Almsburg’s thirty miles away. Those fellows that blew the bank safe won’t be over to spend their money on this lot.”
“Guess you’re right about that, Tex,” declared Cap, forgetting his animosity as he grinned. “We’ll be lucky if we pull in a crowd from right here in Hamilcar. Say, Tex — how long have you been in the show business?”
“Thirty years. Why?”
“Well, I just figured it would take experience to pick a bloomer as bad as this one. I couldn’t do it.”
“It’s worse than I expected,” admitted Tex. “It’s mighty bad, Cap. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. It’s no time now for us to keep on being sore. I’ve got to run into New York.”
“You need dough, eh?”
“I will before we finish this stand.”
“Can you get it?”
“Yeah. I’m leaving on the next train. But I’m not telling Stuffy where I’m going.”
“Why not, Tex?”
“Because he don’t know how to keep his mouth shut. He’s all right with the folks on the lot, but he begins to talk if anybody important shows up.”
“Like Jonathan Wilbart?”
“Yeah.”
“I see.” Cap sat down and nodded speculatively. “You’re expecting Wilbart, are you?”
“I am,” announced Tex. “That’s why I’m leaving tonight. I want to be out of here when he comes around. I’m going to tell Stuffy to let him talk to you. Remember that proposition, Cap, that we were talking about when we got sore in Marlborough?”
“About my saying I’d sold out to you, Tex?”
“That’s it. Well — there’s no papers to show it, but you stick to the story, will you? Maybe you’re still sore at me, Cap, but just the same—”
“I know. We’re both showmen and Wilbart ain’t. I get it, Tex. Well, I’m agreeable on that score. If we’ve got a grudge, it ain’t big enough to keep us from helping the other guy kid Wilbart. That’s settled, Tex. What do you want me—”
Cap stopped as the door slid open. It was Stuffy. Another man was following the general agent into the office.
TEX LARCH stared as he saw Jonathan Wilbart. The circus magnate had arrived sooner than Tex had expected.
“Good evening,” greeted Wilbart. “Am I interrupting a conference?”
“No,” growled Tex. “Slide out, Stuffy. Stay here, will you, Cap? Sit down, Wilbart.”
“It doesn’t look so good on the midway,”’ observed Wilbart, as he settled in a seat. “I told you this would be a bad town, Tex.”
“We had a red one,” returned Tex. “We’re due for a bloomer. How about it, Cap?”
“Maybe this town won’t turn out bad,” was Guffy’s comment. “You can’t never tell, Tex.”
“You are both optimists,” decided Wilbart. “Well — if you feel that way, Tex, I suppose there is no use trying to buy your show tonight.”
“Not tonight or any night,” retorted Tex. “I’m staying in the business, Wilbart. With this show, too. In fact” — he shot a look toward Guffy — “I’m doing some buying of my own.”
“What?” exclaimed Wilbart. “Another circus?”
“A sideshow,” answered Tex. “Cap Guffy’s. I’m taking over his Ten-in-One. I’ve got an option on it.”
“Where’s the money coming from?” questioned Wilbart, narrowly.
“I’ve got all I need,” returned Tex.
“It didn’t come in through your turnstiles,” argued Wilbart. “What’s more, you can’t tell me that the concessions are making up the deficit.”
“I’m making money out of this show,” asserted Tex, emphatically. “I’m satisfied with business. If you want to stay around town until we move, you’ll be here to see me hand one thousand dollars to Cap Guffy.”
“So you’re making money, eh?” chuckled Wilbart, wisely. “That’s a good one, Tex. Best I’ve heard yet. All right. I shall take your word for it. The Larch Circus is showing a profit. That is established. That means the other shows are making money, too. Yours, for instance, Guffy.”
“That’s right,” responded Cap.
“You’re making money, are you, Guffy?” questioned Wilbart. “Then why are you selling out to Larch?”
Tex scratched the lobe of his left ear. He looked at Cap Guffy, who had no reply. Then he turned to Jonathan Wilbart.
“Cap’s ready to retire,” explained Tex. “Figures that he’s been in the show business long enough. How about it, Cap?”
“That’s right,” responded Cap. “I’ve made my sock. With what Tex is offering, I won’t need to stay on the road.”
“That is another excellent story,” commented Wilbart. “If you have money, Guffy, it didn’t come through the front of your Ten-in-One. Well” — Wilbart paused to nod — “it’s possible that one of you is right.”
“How do you mean?” questioned Tex, in an uneasy tone.
“Well,” resumed Wilbart, “you may have struck a gold mine on one of the circus lots. Maybe you do have money, Tex. Or” — Wilbart turned to Cap — “perhaps you are the man who has been finding nuggets, Guffy.”
Cap shrugged his shoulders. He did not appear uneasy. Jonathan Wilbart arose. He stepped toward the door and delivered a quiet smile.
“I shall come back, Tex,” he declared. “Perhaps you will have a different decision before you have finished with the town of Hamilcar. Or” — the smile increased — “should I say before Hamilcar has finished with you?”
ALTHOUGH angered by Wilbart’s friendly sarcasm, Tex seemed unable to make a retort. He shifted uneasily by the desk. Cap Guffy said nothing. He seemed to be thinking deeply as Jonathan Wilbart prepared to leave. Before the magnate had reached the door, however, the barrier slid back and a burly, big fisted man stamped into the office.
“I’m Sheriff Howard,” he announced. “Are you Tex Larch?”
He put the gruff question to Jonathan Wilbart, who shook his head. The magnate pointed to Tex and stepped toward the door. The sheriff stopped him.
“Are you going off this lot?” demanded Howard.
“Certainly,” replied Wilbart, in a tone of surprise. “Have you any objection?”
“Who is this gentleman?” questioned the sheriff. He indicated Wilbart as he spoke to Tex. “Does he have anything to do with this show?”
“He wants to buy it, that’s all,” replied Tex. “He’s Jonathan Wilbart. Owns five shows of his own. Just came in here to see me.”
“That’s all right, then,” acknowledged the sheriff. “Sorry to hold you back, Mr. Wilbart. Wait a minute.” He scrawled with a pencil on a slip of paper. “When you get outside the grounds, hand this to one of the men that stops you. That’s all. You’ve got a car, haven’t you?”