Alfred felt that he would be everlastingly disgraced when he announced that he was not able to pay the debts incurred. The boys conferred long and earnestly. Win proposed that they pay Lin and Uncle Jack and then run off; go to the newly discovered oil country and make their fortunes.

This proposition was rejected by Alfred. To go to the oil regions was a pet idea of the older boy and it was not long ere he left the old town to seek his fortune and Alfred never saw him afterwards.

Alfred took the money. When he reached home he settled with Lin in full.

Uncle Jack was handed his four dollars by Alfred with the air of a millionaire. After paying Lin and Uncle Jack, Alfred had $6.75 left, with debts to the amount of $31.75 pressing him, or they would be the next day.

He retired to his room. He could plainly hear Lin describing and praising the performance. She dwelt at length on the high quality of the gathering, saying that all the best people in Red Stone section were there. When Lin wondered what Alfred would do next, now that he had money, Alfred felt like rushing from the house to seek his pal and flee to the oil regions.

He opened the front door and walked out without any idea of where he was going. He walked aimlessly and found himself on Church Street where Sammy Steele overtook him on his way to church.

The Reverend Kerr was pastor, the father of E. M. Kerr, afterwards noted in the minstrel profession as E. M. Kayne.

When Mr. Steele asked Alfred if he were on his way to church, Alfred answered: "Yes." The two walked to the church together and home after the sermon was over. On the way the tanner described in detail the improvements he was making in his plant and invited Alfred to accompany him to the tannery to look over the work under way.

In those days everybody ate dinner at high noon. Alfred was impatient at the seeming delay of Lin in serving the meal. Lin remarked: "Ye're jus like every man thet gits to makin' money, figity."

Alfred arrived at the tannery long before the owner. The suction pumps and other labor saving devices were examined and explained to Alfred who pretended to be deeply interested. After all had been explained, they found themselves in the big finishing room where Alfred had pa.s.sed so many pleasant days and evenings.

The boy wished that he was back in the tannery free from the cares hanging over him. Finally, he looked his former employer full in the face and, in a voice full of earnestness, asked the big, dignified man for the loan of thirty dollars, promising to work it out night and day until it was paid in full.

He dwelt at length on the shame that would come to him if he could not meet his obligations. "If you will help me out of this I will never forget you and you will never regret it," concluded Alfred.

The straightforward man of business complimented Alfred for his anxiety to pay his debts, at the same time pointing out to him the danger of contracting debts he could not meet; that an honest man never had peace of mind when in debt; that a man was never as brave or useful to himself or family as when free of the haunting fear of losing his standing through debt.

He told Alfred to meet him at 7 o'clock the next morning and he would give him his answer. After a sleepless night Alfred was at the tannery on time. Mr. Steele was there when he arrived and greeted him kindly.

Noting Alfred's worried expression, he said: "There is no use worrying over affairs of this kind; the proper course is to steer clear of them, which I think you will do after this."

Alfred a.s.sured him that he would be sure to do so. The tanner handed Alfred a paper, requesting him to read it carefully. Alfred could scarcely believe his eyes as he read:

"In consideration of $30 to me in hand paid, the receipt of which is hereby acknowledged, I hereby agree to bind myself to work for Samuel Steele for a period of two months, performing such duties as he may direct...."

Alfred studied a moment and said: "I do not mind any work you may put on me and I will work all day and part of the night, but if you would only let me have the money I can pay you back much sooner out of what I make at Hurd's. I want to get out of debt and you are the only person in the world I can go to. I don't want my folks to know of this."

"Then you will not sign the paper?" questioned the tanner.

"I don't like to and it don't seem hardly fair after the wages you paid me before. Give me a dollar a day and I'll sign it."

Mr. Steele took the paper from Alfred's hand, tore it up and threw it into the open grate as he said: "My boy, I was only trying you. I wanted to show you how those in debt are in the power of anyone who is unscrupulous. If you had signed the paper I would not have had confidence in you. In fact, I did not intend to permit you to sign it if you had shown a willingness to do so. I will loan you the money and you can pay it back to me as you earn it, without interest. Settle with your creditors and keep out of debt. And furthermore, tell no one that I loaned you this money, and never borrow another dollar unless you see a way to pay it."

The advice given Alfred by the old tanner has saved him heart aches and much money.

All the outstanding bills were met. When the members of the troupe gathered at their room and the final statement laid before them there was deep silence for a moment. It was a commonwealth arrangement insofar as the profits were concerned, a one man concern as to the losses.

However, none ever expected a deficiency, each expecting to get quite a little money for his share.

The members of the troupe sympathized with Alfred. Charley Wagner, who was the only salaried member, consoled him thusly: "Yah, und ef you ever go to dot Redstone School-house mit your troupe again you'll git him all back." How many times Alfred has heard like statements since!

Win Scott explained the small receipts and the large crowd. All the school directors and their families were to be admitted free. No tickets were used, the money was taken in at the door. When anyone appeared and said "school director" or "school director's family," Win pa.s.sed them in. It was afterward learned that some of the directors had as many as thirty in their families the night of the show.

Harry Harrison came forward at this critical period of the minstrel enterprise and took upon himself the management. Although Alfred had his misgivings, he was glad to be relieved of the responsibility and to have the concern continued.

Not a line appeared in the _Clipper_ as to the first show but glowing accounts of what was to follow were printed weekly. Harrison prevailed upon the shoemaker to build a small stage in the room the troupe had rented for rehearsing purposes. Also to move a part.i.tion, giving the minstrels quite a large room which was provided with heat and light.

The announcement was sent forth that the Evening Star Minstrels would give entertainments every Sat.u.r.day night at McKernan's Hall, at Barefoot Square.

Harrison gave no explanation as to why he changed the t.i.tle of the company. Story was angry. Alfred was pleased, inwardly congratulating himself that future deficiencies would have to be made up by Harrison.

The next Sat.u.r.day night and the following Sat.u.r.day night saw the little hall packed. And thus another pang of jealousy will be added to the heart of Bill Brown, that Brownsville enjoyed the distinction of a permanent minstrel hall while Pittsburg never had such an inst.i.tution, traveling minstrel shows appearing there for only one or two nights in Masonic Hall.

After several nights of big business several members of the troupe made inquiries as to the funds and their disposition. At first Harrison was very courteous and explained that the establishing and opening of the hall was expensive; that later on when well established, Jeffres Hall would be secured and nightly dividends would be paid.

Charley Wagner, true to the traditions of history handed down from the days of Babylon, namely, that musicians are the first to stir discord, laid down his fiddle and bow and declared: "No more music until we get our money." It then developed that nothing had been paid in the way of salaries or other expenses since Harrison had a.s.sumed the management.

At this juncture Harrison became insolvent. The landlord locked up the hall with all the belongings of the troupe nor would he release the goods until the rent was paid in full. Harrison was appealed to. He sneered at the impecunious minstrels and taunted them by saying: "Now go get your stuff out. If you all hadn't been so peart I'd seen you through."

Each minstrel was compelled to pay his proportionate share of the amount due for rent and lights. His private property was then delivered to him by the sporting shoemaker.

When he had collected the rent due him he sent for Harrison, escorted him into the deserted hall and demanded that he (Harrison) have the part.i.tion replaced in its original location. When Harrison angrily refused, the shoemaker proceeded to give him a drubbing.

Harrison did not collect anything that week from those to whom he gave favorable mention in the paper as two black eyes compelled him to keep close to the office.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

And I would learn to better show My grat.i.tude for favors had, To see more of the good below And less of what I think is bad.

To live not always in the day To come, and count the joys to be, But to remember, as I stray, The past and what is brought to me.

Lured by that feeling which impels the criminal to visit the scene of his crime, Alfred began a pilgrimage to the little red school-house.

Walking along the old pike the sound of a horse's hoofs beating a tattoo on the road reached his ears. He recognized in the rider, Joe Thornton.

The white pacing mare which Thornton bestrode had one of those peculiar high-lifting gaits, that, from the sound of the hoofs on the roadbed, caused one to imagine that she was going at a very rapid gait, while in fact she was not doing much more than pounding the road. Uncle Joe said of her: "She'd pace all day in the shade of a tree."

When opposite Alfred, Mr. Thornton slowed up and made numerous inquiries as to the minstrel show, expressing regret that he was not able to attend; he intended going, having received an invitation from one of the school directors. He requested Alfred to advise him of the next performance; he would be there sure.

Then, as if to make up for the few moments lost conversing with Alfred, he gave the mare the word and she pounded the pike more heavily than before. Alfred admired the big, handsome rider and the white mare; he longed to bestride her and kept his eyes on horse and rider as they traveled on before him.

Alfred noticed a black looking object fall to the dusty pike. At the distance it seemed a large sized shoe. Alfred kept his eyes on the object as he neared the spot where it lay. Bending over he discovered a very large, black book. Picking it up he saw bills, money, more money than the boy had ever held in his hands before. He trembled as he turned over bill after bill.

He had dreamed that he would be rich--some day in the far future--day dreams. His riches were always to come. They had come suddenly, unexpectedly. Mother would have a new cooking stove; Lin declared daily that the old stove would not bake on the bottom. Brother Joe would have toys and a sled, Sister Lizzie anything she wanted, Brother Will anything he needed, a melodeon for Lin. Sammy Steele would be paid with the same flourish with which Uncle Jack was paid. Harrison would be deposed, the minstrel troupe would go out, travel to distant parts and make money, more money than Alfred wanted; he would divide it with all his best friends, he would make all happy.

With these thoughts flying through his mind he walked on in the direction the rider had gone. Suddenly realizing that the money was not his he cast a glance ahead, expecting every moment to see the rider returning post haste to claim the treasure.

When he reached the lane leading off the pike to the Thornton house, he hesitated, opened the book again and looked at the money, turning over the neat layers of bills, fives in one section, tens in another, twenties in a third, legal looking papers in a fourth, tied about with a thin, red ribbon.

He thought of concealing the book. No, he would hasten home and conceal the money in the cow stable. He was opposite the gate of the yard in which stood the big Thornton house. Should he enter?