"I'll wait till my friend comes back," said Carl quietly.

Wampole had not yet seen him, but he heard the youth's voice and now looked around the edge of the paper.

"Carl Ross," he murmured, as he fell back in his seat.

"Yes, Mr. Wampole. You didn't expect to see me here."

"Well-er-not exactly. But it's very fortunate, very fortunate, indeed!"

went on Nathan Wampole, gathering himself together with an effort.

"Why, do you want to pay me off?"

"Well-er-not exactly that, Carl," with a reproachful glance. "But the fact of it is, I'm thinking of reorganizing. I've seen four of our company already."

As he spoke Nathan Wampole drew a folded doc.u.ment from his pocket and thrust it across the table.

"There's my new scheme," he said earnestly. "A grand thing, too. We'll make money hand over fist. Of course you'll go in."

Carl looked at the paper.

"Hardly, sir. I don't care to work for nothing but fame."

"But this is dead sure, Carl, dead sure. A fortune--"

"The other company was to bring me a fortune, Mr. Wampole. No, henceforth I'm going to travel with a responsible manager or on my own hook."

"Do you mean to insinuate I'm not responsible?" cried Nathan Wampole, bristling up.

"You haven't proved yourself to be."

"I've had a misfortune, that's all. But I'll get on my feet again, and-hullo, here's my friend, Leo Dunbar!"

"Nathan Wampole!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the young gymnast.

"I want you for my newly organized company," commenced the old manager, but Leo cut him short.

"I overheard your offer to Carl, Wampole. My answer is the same as his."

"You won't join me?"

"No."

Nathan Wampole's face grew dark and bitter.

"You'll regret it-mark my words, you'll regret it!" he hissed; and gulping down the liquor set before him, he arose and hurried from the place.

"The fraud!" murmured Leo. "I'll never perform for him again."

"Nor will I," added Carl.

A little later they were eating dinner, not an elaborate meal, for they had little to spend.

"I've struck luck," went on the young gymnast.

"I met a gentleman who was at Mr. Raymond's yesterday, and he has hired us to perform at his house this evening from eight o'clock to nine. He is going to pay us the same amount, twelve dollars."

This was good news, and on the strength of it Carl ordered some dessert, which cost him five cents additional.

They hired a room at the tavern, and leaving their baggage there took a walk out to see the sights. They walked further than they had intended and it was dark when they returned. The landlord of the place met them in surprise.

"Hullo, I thought you had changed your mind about coming back," he said.

"Changed our minds?" queried Carl, puzzled.

"Yes."

"Why so?"

"Didn't you send for your baggage?"

"No."

"What! why, a man came here not an hour ago and took all your things off."

Carl and Leo gave a simultaneous whistle of surprise. Here was a pretty state of affairs.

"Who was the man?"

"I don't know. He had a wagon and said you had sent him."

Carl gave a groan.

"We have been robbed, Leo."

"It looks like it, Carl. What are we to do? We must get our things back, and that quickly, or we won't be able to perform to-night."

"Do you mean to say that man was a thief?" demanded the landlord of the tavern, with intense astonishment.

"That's just what he was," answered Carl. "We never sent him here."

"What sort of a looking man was he?" asked Leo.

"Tall and dark, with a cast in one eye," was the reply. "I've seen him in these parts before."

"A cast in his eye?" repeated Carl. "It must have been that Jack Darrow!" he burst out.

"That's so," returned the young gymnast. "He said he would get square."