Well, I don't blame you.Now that they're giving down to us so freely, I feel better about them myself.It's a pity we can't lower the rest of the program to the level of their intellectuals."Burlingham was not tactless enough to disturb Eshwell's consoling notion that while Susan was appreciated by these ignorant country-jakes, the rest of the company were too subtle and refined in their art."That's a good idea," replied he.
"I'll try to get together some simple slop.Perhaps a melodrama, a good hot one, would go--eh?"After ten days the receipts began to drop.On the fifteenth day there was only a handful at the matinee, and in the evening half the benches were empty."About milked dry," said Burlingham at the late supper."We'll move on in the morning."This pleased everyone.Susan saw visions of bigger triumphs; the others felt that they were going where dramatic talent, not to say genius, would be at least not entirely unappreciated.So the company was at its liveliest next morning as the mosquito-infested willows of the Bethlehem shore slowly dropped away.They had made an unusually early start, for the river would be more and more crowded as they neared the three close-set cities--Louisville, Jeffersonville, and New Albany, and the helpless little show boat must give the steamers no excuse for not seeing her.All day--a long, dreamy, summer day--they drifted lazily downstream, and, except Tempest, all grew gayer and more gay.Burlingham had announced that there were three hundred and seventy-eight dollars in the japanned tin box he kept shut up in his bag.
At dusk a tug, for three dollars, nosed them into a wharf which adjoined the thickly populated labor quarter of Jeffersonville.
Susan was awakened by a scream.Even as she opened her eyes a dark cloud, a dull suffocating terrifying pain, descended upon her.When she again became conscious, she was lying upon a mass of canvas on the levee with three strange men bending over her.
She sat up, instinctively caught together the front of the nightdress she had bought in Bethlehem the second day there.
Then she looked wildly from face to face.
"You're all right, ma'am," said one of the men."Not a scratch--only stunned.""What was it?" said the girl."Where are they?"As she spoke, she saw Burlingham in his nightshirt propped against a big blue oil barrel.He was staring stupidly at the ground.And now she noted the others scattered about the levee, each with a group around him or her."What was it?" she repeated.
"A tug butted its tow of barges into you," said someone.
"Crushed your boat like an eggshell."
Burlingham staggered to his feet, stared round, saw her."Thank God!" he cried."Anyone drowned? Anyone hurt?""All saved--no bones broken," someone responded.
"And the boat?"
"Gone down.Nothing left of her but splinters.The barges were full of coal and building stone.""The box!" suddenly shouted Burlingham."The box!""What kind of a box?" asked a boy with lean, dirty, and much scratched bare legs."A little black tin box like they keep money in?""That's it.Where is it?"
"It's all right," said the boy."One of your people, a black actor-looking fellow----""Tempest," interjected Burlingham."Go on."
"He dressed on the wharf and he had the box.""Where is he?"
"He said he was going for a doctor.Last I seed of him he was up to the corner yonder.He was movin' fast."Burlingham gave a kind of groan.Susan read in his face his fear, his suspicion--the suspicion he was ashamed of himself for having.She noted vaguely that he talked with the policeman aside for a few minutes, after which the policeman went up the levee.Burlingham rejoined his companions and took command.The first thing was to get dressed as well as might be from such of the trunks as had been knocked out of the cabin by the barge and had been picked up.They were all dazed.Even Burlingham could not realize just what had occurred.They called to one another more or less humorous remarks while they were dressing behind piles of boxes, crates, barrels and sacks in the wharf-boat.And they laughed gayly when they assembled.Susan made the best appearance, for her blue serge suit had been taken out dry when she herself was lifted from the sinking wreck; the nightgown served as a blouse.Mabel's trunk had been saved.Violet could wear none of her things, as they were many sizes too small, so she appeared in a property skirt of black paper muslin, a black velvet property basque, a pair of shoes belonging to Tempest.
Burlingham and Eshwell made a fairly respectable showing in clothing from Tempest's trunk.Their own trunks had gone down.
"Why, where's Tempest?" asked Eshwell.
"He'll be back in a few minutes," replied Burlingham."In fact, he ought to be back now." His glance happened to meet Susan's;he hastily shifted his eyes.
"Where's the box?" asked Violet.
"Tempest's taking care of it," was the manager's answer.
"Tempest!" exclaimed Mabel.Her shrewd, dissipated eyes contracted with suspicion.
"Anybody got any money?" inquired Eshwell, as he fished in his pockets.
No one had a cent.Eshwell searched Tempest's trunk, found a two-dollar bill and a one wrapped round a silver dollar and wadded in among some ragged underclothes.Susan heard Burlingham mutter "Wonder how he happened to overlook that!" But no one else heard.
"Well, we might have breakfast," suggested Mabel.
They went out on the water deck of the wharf-boat, looked down at the splinters of the wreck lying in the deep yellow river.
"Come on," said Burlingham, and he led the way up the levee.
There was no attempt at jauntiness; they all realized now.
"How about Tempest?" said Eshwell, stopping short halfway up.
"Tempest--hell!" retorted Mabel."Come on."
"What do you mean?" cried Violet, whose left eye was almost closed by a bruise.
"We'll not see him again.Come on."
"Bob!" shrieked Violet at Burlingham."Do you hear that?""Yes," said he."Keep calm, and come on."
