Part 12 (1/2)
The deputy sheriff read: ”See the New York Comedy Company, Augustus Wattles, Manager.
”See this great company in 'Loved and Lost.'
”See the real locomotive, under a full head of steam.
”See the real steam yacht.
”See all this.
”But-- ”Please don't look at the queer old man in the third row of the orchestra.”
The deputy laid the paper down and glared at his prisoner with a triumphant air.
”Well?” said Al, greatly puzzled.
”Didn't you write that and cause it to be inserted in the Bugle?”
”I did.”
”That settles it, then.”
”It may settle it for you, but it doesn't for me,” said the boy. ”What is the matter with the ad.?”
”You know well enough what the matter is with it.”
”I do not. Is it a crime in this town to try to boom a show by any legitimate means?”
”No; but it is a crime to try to boom it the way you have; it is a crime here and everywhere else, as you will find out if you try the same game again in another town.”
Here Miss March, who had listened in silence until this moment, interposed.
”What is the matter, sir?” she cried. ”I read the advertis.e.m.e.nt, and I am sure there was nothing in it that could offend anyone.”
The deputy, who until now had forgotten or neglected to doff his hat, did so.
”As far as you see, miss,” he said, ”the ad. is all right.”
”Well, what is there--what can there be--that I do not see?” the young lady cried.
”You are not acquainted in this town, are you, young lady?” the deputy asked.
”I am not.”
”That accounts for it, then. But this young fellow is acquainted here, and he knew just what he was doing when he wrote that advertis.e.m.e.nt.”
”Yes, I think I did,” interposed Al, ”But will you please tell me right now why you are here?”
”I am here in my capacity of deputy sheriff of this county,” replied the official, with dignity, ”and also as a personal friend of Mr. Marmaduke Merry.”
”Mr. Marmaduke Merry!” exclaimed Al.
”Yes. No wonder you start and turn pale at the mere mention of that name.”
”But I did not start or turn pale. Who is Mr. Marmaduke Merry?”
”You pretend not to know?”
”I pretend nothing at all; I do not know. I never heard the name of Marmaduke Merry before in my life.”
”This subterfuge will avail you nothing,” said the deputy, who was becoming theatrical. ”We know all.”
”All what?”
Al could not help laughing, and this evidently angered the overzealous deputy.
”I am not here to bandy words with you, young man,” he said; ”I have already spent too much time in talk.”
”That's what I think,” smiled Al.
”I'm glad we agree upon that point. Come along.”
”I am ready.”
”One moment,” interposed Miss March. ”Won't you please tell me, sir, of what crime Mr. Allston is accused?”
”I will,” the deputy replied, with a look that was very evidently intended to be languis.h.i.+ng. ”I can refuse you nothing, miss. He is accused of holding one of Rockton's most respected citizens up to public ridicule; and Mr. Marmaduke Merry is the man.”
”But,” interrupted Al, more bewildered than ever, ”haven't I told you that I never heard of this man, Merry, before?”
”You have told me so--yes.”
”Well, I told the truth.”
”You will have to convince the court of that.”
”But what has my ad. to do with Mr. Merry? His name is not mentioned in it.”
”Ah, that is where your cunning comes in. But doesn't everyone in Rockton know that for years and years Mr. Merry has always occupied a seat in the third row of the orchestra at the first performance of a new play?”
At last Al grasped the situation.
”Oh!” he exclaimed, ”that's what you mean?”
”That is what I mean.”
”And you think I meant Mr. Merry when I referred to the 'queer old man'?”