Part 11 (1/2)
”There isn't much love lost between us,” returned Harry, laughing.
”How do you like the boy?”
”He served me a good turn--for five dollars--but he would help capture me for the same money, or less.”
”You seem to know him.”
”He is fond of money, and would do almost anything for it.”
”You thank me for saving you from capture, my lad,” continued the magician. ”Well, I had an object in it--a selfish object.”
Harry looked puzzled.
”It struck me that I needed a boy about your size, and character, for a general a.s.sistant, to sell tickets, take money, and help me on the stage. How do you like the idea?”
”I like it,” answered Harry; ”but there is one objection.”
”What is that?”
”I don't come from Madagascar,” responded Harry, slyly.
Professor Hemenway laughed.
”You've been as near there as I have,” he said. ”Did you really think I came from Madagascar?”
”You look more as if you came from Maine, sir.”
”You've hit it! There's where I did come from. I was raised twenty-five miles from Portland on a farm. But it would never do to put that on the bills. People are ready to pay more for imported than for native curiosities. However, to come to business. I had a young man traveling with me who wasn't suited to the business. He was a dry-goods clerk when I took him, and is better adapted to that business than to mine. He left me last week, and I have been in a quandary about his successor. How much do you consider your time worth?”
”Just at present it isn't worth much. If you will pay my traveling expenses, that will satisfy me.”
”I will do better than that I will give you five dollars a week besides, if business is good.”
”Thank you, sir. I think I shall enjoy traveling.”
There are few boys who do not like change of scene, and the chance of seeing new places is attractive to all. Harry was decidedly of the opinion that he had a streak of luck. It would be much better in all ways than living with his late guardian, and working for partial board.
As they approached the village of Conway, Harry's attention was drawn to a variety of posters setting forth, in mammoth letters, that the world-renowned Magician of Madagascar would give a magical _soiree_ at the Town Hall in the evening. Tickets, fifteen cents; children under twelve years, ten cents. The posters, furthermore, attracted attention by a large figure of the professor, dressed in bizarre style, performing one of his tricks.
”That draws attention,” observed the professor, ”particularly among the boys. I think I shall have a hall full this evening. An audience of three hundred will pay very well. My expenses are light. I do most of my traveling in this wagon, and at hotels I get the usual professional reduction.”
”Did it take you long to learn the business?”
”I have been learning all along. Every now and then I add a new trick. I will teach you some.”
”I might leave you and set up on my own hook when I have learned,”
suggested Harry, with a smile.
”It will be some time before you look old enough for a magician. When you are, I'll give you my blessing and send you out.”