The Young Musician; Or, Fighting His Way

by Jr. Horatio Alger

He stamped, raved, tore his hair, and made altogether a very grotesqueappearance.

  Philip could hardly forbear laughing, and some of the boys in the frontseats didn't restrain themselves, Some of the older people wondered howsuch a man should be selected by the Prince of Wales to instruct hissons in elocution--not suspecting that the newspaper paragraph makingmention of this was only a daring invention of the eminent professor.

  Next came another musical selection by Philip, which was as cordiallyreceived as the first.

  I do not propose to weary the reader by a recital of the program and adetailed account of each performance. It is enough to say that ProfessorRiccabocca excited some amusement, but was only tolerated for the sakeof Philip's playing.

  Naturally, our hero was better received on account of his youth, buthad he been twice as old his playing would have given satisfaction andpleasure.

  So passed an hour and a half, and the musical entertainment was over.Philip felt that he had reason to be satisfied. Highly as he had beenheralded, no one appeared to feel disappointed by his part of theperformance.

  "Mr. de Gray," said the professor, when they reached the hotel, "you didsplendidly. We have made a complete success."

  "It is very gratifying," said Philip.

  "I felt sure that the public would appreciate us. I think I managedeverything shrewdly."

  "How much was paid in at the door?" asked Philip, who naturally feltinterested in this phase of success.

  "One hundred and forty-five dollars and a half!" answered the professor.

  Philip's eyes sparkled.

  "And how much will that be over and above expenses?" he asked.

  "My dear Mr. de Gray, we will settle all bills, and make a fair andequitable division, in the morning. I think there will be a little morethan fifty dollars to come to each of us."

  "Fifty dollars for one evening's work!" repeated Philip, his eyessparkling.

  "Oh, I have done much better than that," said the professor. "I rememberonce at St. Louis I made for myself alone one hundred and eighty dollarsnet, and in Chicago a little more."

  "I didn't think it was such a money-making business," said Philip,elated.

  "Yes, Mr. de Gray, the American people are willing to recognize talent,when it is genuine. You are on the threshold of a great career, my dearyoung friend."

  "And only a week since I was in the Norton Poorhouse," thought Philip."It is certainly a case of romance in real life."

  The two went to bed soon, being fatigued by their exertions. Theapartment was large, and contained two beds, a larger and smaller one.The latter was occupied by our hero.

  When he awoke in the morning, the sun was shining brightly into theroom. Philip looked toward the opposite bed. It was empty.

  "Professor Riccabocca must have got up early," he thought. "Probably hedid not wish to wake me."

  He dressed and went downstairs.

  "Where is the professor?" he asked of the clerk.

  "He started away two hours since--said he was going to take a walk. Wentaway without his breakfast, too. He must be fond of walking."

  Philip turned pale. He was disturbed by a terrible suspicion. Had theprofessor gone off for good, carrying all the money with him?

  CHAPTER XXIX. BESET BY CREDITORS.

  Philip was still a boy, and though he had discovered that the professorwas something of a humbug, and a good deal of a braggart, it had not fora moment occurred to him that he would prove dishonest. Even now he didnot want to believe it, though he was nervously apprehensive that itmight prove true.

  "I will take my breakfast," he said, as coolly as was possible, "and theprofessor will probably join me before I am through."

  The clerk and the landlord thought otherwise. They were pretty wellconvinced that Riccabocca was dishonest, and quietly sent for those towhom the "combination" was indebted: namely, the printer and publisherof the Daily Bulletin, the agent of the music-hall, and the bill-stickerwho had posted notices of the entertainment. These parties arrived whilePhilip was at breakfast.

  "Gentlemen," said the landlord, "the boy is at breakfast. I think he isall right, but I don't know. The professor, I fear, is a swindle."

  "The boy is liable for our debts," said the agent. "He belongs to thecombination."

  "I am afraid he is a victim as well as you," said the landlord. "Heseemed surprised to hear that the professor had gone out."

  "It may all be put on. Perhaps he is in the plot, and is to meet theold fraud at some place fixed upon, and divide the booty," suggested theagent.

  "The boy looks honest," said the landlord. "I like his appearance. Wewill see what he has to say."

  So when Philip had finished his breakfast he was summoned to the parlor,where he met the creditors of the combination.

  "These gentlemen," said the landlord, "have bills against you and theprofessor. It makes no difference whether they receive pay from you orhim."

  Poor Philip's heart sank within him.

  "I was hoping Professor Riccabocca had settled your bills," he said."Please show them to me."

  This was done with alacrity.

  Philip found that they owed five dollars for the hall, five dollarsfor advertising and printing, and one dollar for bill-posting--elevendollars in all.

  "Mr. Gates," said our hero uneasily, to the landlord, "did ProfessorRiccabocca say anything about coming back when he went out thismorning?"

  "He told my clerk he would be back to breakfast," said the landlord;adding, with a shrug of the shoulders: "That was two hours and a halfago. He can't be very hungry."

  "He didn't pay his bill, I suppose?"

  "No, of course not. He had not given up his room."

  Philip became more and more uneasy.

  "Didn't you know anything about his going out?" asked the landlord.

  "No, sir. I was fast asleep."

  "Is the professor in the habit of taking long morning walks?"

  "I don't know."

  "That is strange, since you travel together," remarked the publisher.

  "I never saw him till day before yesterday," said Philip.

  The creditors looked at each other significantly. They began to suspectthat Philip also was a victim.

  "Do you know how much money was received for tickets last evening?"

  "About a hundred and fifty dollars."

  "How much of this were you to receive?"

  "Half of what was left after the bills were paid."

  "Have you received it?" asked the agent.

  "Not a cent," answered Philip.

  "What do you think about the situation?"

  "I think that Professor Riccabocca has swindled us all," answered Philippromptly.

  "Our bills ought to be paid," said the agent, who was rather a hard manin his dealings.

  "I agree with you," said Philip. "I wish I were able to pay them, but Ihave only six dollars in my possession."

  "That will pay me, and leave a dollar over," suggested the agent.

  "If it comes to that," said the printer, "I claim that I ought to bepaid first."

  "I am a poor man," said the bill-sticker. "I need my money."

  Poor Philip was very much disconcerted. It was a new thing for him toowe money which he could not repay.

  "Gentlemen," he said, "I have myself been cheated out of fifty dollars,at least--my share of the profits. I wish I could pay you all. I cannotdo so now. Whenever I can I will certainly do it."

  "You can pay us a part with the money you have," said the agent.

  "I owe Mr. Gates for nearly two days' board," he said. "That is my ownaffair, and I must pay him first."

  "I don't see why he should be preferred to me," grumbled the agent;then, with a sudden, happy thought, as he termed it, he said: "I willtell you how you can pay us all."

  "How?" asked Philip.

  "You have a violin. You can sell that for enough to pay our bills."

  Poor Philip! His violin was his dependence. Besides the naturalattachment he felt for
it, he relied upon it to secure him a living, andthe thought of parting with it was bitter.

  "Gentlemen," he said, "if you take my violin, I have no way of makinga living. If you will consider that I, too, am a victim of this man, Ithink you will not wish to inflict such an injury upon me."

  "I do not, for one," said the publisher. "I am not a rich man, and Ineed all the money that is due me, but I wouldn't deprive the boy of hisviolin."

  "Nor I," said the bill-sticker.

  "That's all very fine," said the agent; "but I am not so soft as youtwo. Who knows but the boy is in league with the professor?"

  "I know it!" said the landlord stoutly. "The boy is all right, or I amno judge of human nature."

  "Thank you, Mr. Gates," said Philip, extending his hand to his generousdefender.

  "Do you expect we will let you off without paying anything?" demandedthe agent harshly.

  "If I live, sir, you shall lose nothing by me," said Philip.

  "That won't do!" said the man coarsely. "I insist upon the fiddle beingsold. I'll give five dollars for it, and call it square."

  "Mr. Gunn," said the landlord, in a tone of disgust, "since you aredisposed to persecute this boy, I will myself pay your bill, and trustto him to repay me when he can."

  "But, Mr. Gates--" said Philip.

  "I accept!" said the agent, with alacrity.

  "Receipt your bill," said the landlord.

  Mr. Gunn did so, and received a five-dollar bill in return.

  "Now sir," said the landlord coldly, "if you have no further businesshere, we can dispense with your company."

  "It strikes me you are rather hard on a man because he wants to be paidhis honest dues!" whined Gunn, rather uncomfortably.

  "We understand you, sir," said the landlord. "We have not forgotten howyou turned a poor family into the street, in the dead of winter, becausethey could not pay their rent."

  "Could I afford to give them house-room?" inquired Gunn.

  "Perhaps not. At any rate, I don't feel inclined to give you house-roomany longer."

  Mr. Gunn slunk out of the room, under the impression that his companywas no longer desired.

  "Mr. Gray," said the publisher, "I hope you don't class me with the manwho has just gone out. I would sooner never be paid than deprive you ofyour violin. Let the account stand, and if you are ever able to pay mehalf of my bill--your share--I shall be glad to receive it."

  "Thank you, sir!" said Philip, "You shall not repent your confidence inme."

  "I say ditto to my friend, the publisher," said the bill-poster.

  "Wait a moment, gentlemen," said Philip. "There is a bare possibilitythat I can do something for you."

  For the first time since he left Norton he thought of the letter whichhe was not to open till he was fifty miles from Norton.

  "Mr. Gates," he said, "can you tell me how far Norton is from here?"

  "About sixty miles," answered the landlord in surprise.

  "Then it's all right."

  CHAPTER XXX. A TIMELY GIFT.

  The reader has not forgotten that Farmer Lovett, when Philip refusedto accept any compensation for assisting to frustrate the attempt atburglary, handed him a sealed envelope, which he requested him not toopen till he was fifty miles away from Norton.

  Philip had carried this about in his pocket ever since. He had thoughtof it as likely to contain some good advice at the time; but it hadsince occurred to him that the farmer had not had time to write downanything in that line.

  He was disposed to think that the mysterious envelope might contain afive-dollar bill, as a slight acknowledgment of his services.

  Though Philip had declined receiving any payment, it did seem to himnow that this amount of money would relieve him from considerableembarrassment. He therefore drew a penknife from his pocket and cut openthe envelope.

  What was his amazement when he drew out three bills--two twenties anda ten--fifty dollars in all! There was a slip of paper, on which waswritten, in pencil:

  "Don't hesitate to use this money, if you need it, as you doubtlesswill. I can spare it as well as not, and shall be glad if it proves ofuse to one who has done me a great service. JOHN LOVETT."

  "What's that!" asked the landlord, regarding Philip with interest.

  "Some money which I did not know I possessed," answered Philip.

  "How much is there?"

  "Fifty dollars."

  "And you didn't know you had it?" asked the publisher--ratherincredulously, it must be owned.

  "No, sir; I was told not to open this envelope till I was fifty milesaway from where it was given me. Of course, Mr. Gates, I am now able topay all my bills, and to repay you for what you handed Mr. Gunn."

  "I am pleased with your good fortune," said the landlord cordially.

  "Thank you, sir."

  "But I am sorry your knavish partner has cheated you out of so muchmoney."

  "I shall make him pay it if I can," said Philip resolutely.

  "I approve your pluck, and I wish you success."

  "He owes you money, too, Mr. Gates. Give me the bill, and I will do mybest to collect it."

  "If you collect it, you may have it," said Gates. "I don't care muchfor the money, but I should like to have the scamp compelled to fork itover."

  "I wish I knew where he was likely to be," said Philip.

  "He may go to Knoxville," suggested the publisher.

  "How far is that?"

  "Ten miles."

  "What makes you think he will go to Knoxville?" asked the landlord.

  "He may think of giving a performance there. It is a pretty largeplace."

  "But wouldn't he be afraid to do it, after the pranks he has playedhere?"

  "Perhaps so. At any rate, he is very likely to go there."

  "I will go there and risk it," said Philip. "He needn't think he isgoing to get off so easily, even if it is only a boy he has cheated."

  "That's the talk, Mr. Gray!" said the landlord. "How are you going?" heasked, a minute later.

  "I can walk ten miles well enough," answered Philip.

  He had considerable money now, but he reflected that he should probablyneed it all, especially if he did not succeed in making the professorrefund, and decided that it would be well to continue to practiceeconomy.

  "I have no doubt you can," said the landlord, "but it will be better notto let the professor get too much the start of you. I will myself have ahorse harnessed, and take you most of the distance in my buggy."

  "But, Mr. Gates, won't it be putting you to a great deal of trouble?"

  "Not at all. I shall enjoy a ride this morning, and the road toKnoxville is a very pleasant one."

  "Let me pay something for the ride, then."

  "Not a cent. You will need all your money, and I can carry you just aswell as not," said the landlord heartily.

  "I am very fortunate in such a kind friend," said Philip gratefully.

  "Oh, it isn't worth talking about! Here, Jim, go out and harness thehorse directly."

  When the horse was brought round, Philip was all ready, and jumped in.

  "Would you like to drive, Mr. Gray?" asked the landlord.

  "Yes," answered Philip, with alacrity.

  "Take the lines, then," said the landlord.

  Most boys of Philip's age are fond of driving, and our hero was noexception to the rule, as the landlord supposed.

  "You'll promise not to upset me," said Mr. Gates, smiling. "I am gettingstout, and the consequences might be serious."

  "Oh, I am used to driving," said Philip, "and I will take care not totip over."

  The horse was a good one, and to Philip's satisfaction, went over theroad in good style.

  Philip enjoyed driving, but, of course, his mind could not help dwellingon the special object of his journey.

  "I hope we are on the right track," he said. "I shouldn't like to missthe professor."

  "You will soon know, at any rate," said Gates. "It seems to me," hecontinued, "that Riccabo
cca made a great mistake in running off withthat money."

  "He thought it would be safe to cheat a boy."

  "Yes; but admitting all that, you two were likely to make money. InWilkesville your profits were a hundred dollars in one evening. Half ofthat belonged to the professor, at any rate. He has lost his partner,and gained only fifty dollars, which would not begin to pay him for yourloss."

  "Perhaps he thought he would draw as well alone."

  "Then he is very much mistaken. To tell the plain truth, our peoplethought very little of his share of the performance. I saw some of themlaughing when he was ranting away. It was you they enjoyed hearing."

  "I am glad of that," said Philip, gratified.

  "There's no humbug about your playing. You understand it. It wasyou that saved the credit of the evening, and sent people away wellsatisfied."

  "I am glad of that, at any rate, even if I didn't get a cent for myplaying," said Philip, well pleased.

  "The money's the practical part of it," said the landlord. "Of course, Iam glad when travelers like my hotel, but if they should run off withoutpaying, like the professor, I shouldn't enjoy it so much."

  "No, I suppose not," said Philip, with a laugh.

  They had ridden some seven miles, and were, therefore, only three milesfrom Knoxville, without the slightest intimation as to whether or notthey were on the right track.

  To be sure, they had not expected to obtain any clue so soon, but itwould have been very satisfactory, of course, to obtain one.