"
"May I enquire what he is doing up here in the wilds?"
"At present he ain't doing anything except talk. Last week he was
treadin' the boards, as he puts it himself. Busted. Up the flue.
Showed last Saturday night in Hornville, eighteen mile north of here,
and immediately after the performance him and his whole troupe started
to walk back to New York, a good four hunderd mile. They started out
the back way of the opery house and nobody missed 'em till next
mornin' except the sheriff, and he didn't miss 'em till they'd got
over the county line into our bailiwick. Four of 'em are still
stoppin' here just because I ain't got the heart to turn 'em out ner
the spare money to buy 'em tickets to New York. Here comes one of 'em
now. Mr. Dillingford, will you show this gentleman to room eleven, and
carry his baggage up fer him? And maybe he'll want a pitcher of warm
water to wash and shave in." He turned to the new guest and smiled
apologetically.
"We're a little short o' help just now, Mr. Barnes, and Mr.
Dillingford has kindly consented to--"
"My God!" gasped Mr. Dillingford, staring at the register. "Some one
from little old New York? My word, sir, you--Won't you have a--er--
little something to drink with me before you--"
"He wants something to eat," interrupted Mr.
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