Frank Merriwell's Prosperity; or, Toil Has Its Reward — Background and Themes

CHAPTER I. WHEN RAGE RULES.

The scene was the stage of the Star Theater in Atchison, Kansas, and the occasion the rehearsal of Frank Merriwell’s company in his new play, “True Blue.” From the first night “True Blue” had been a success; the playgoers of Puleob, Colorado, who had witnessed the failure of its first version, welcomed “True Blue” enthusiastically and assured Frank, as Roscoe Havener, his stage manager, had put it, that he had a “winner.”

Frank had chosen to turn back toward the East, instead of continuing on to the Pacific coast, for it was late in the season and business was on the decline. It would be better for the members of his company if the play closed its run in the East, leaving them on the ground when the time came to make engagements for the coming season. Besides that consideration, Frank had other reasons in turning Eastward. The failure to keep the dates made for “John Smith” and the partial failure of “For Old Eli” had made it difficult for him to secure theaters for “True Blue” on the Western route, while it was comparatively easy to secure good bookings on the way Eastward.

So it happened that the “True Blue” company had jumped from Puleob straight across Colorado and Kansas to Atchison, where they were to open that night.

All the actors, except Frank, were on the stage carefully rehearsing, as Havener was determined that only by constant drill could slips be avoided, and he aimed to have a perfect performance.

As the afternoon waned, more than one glance of comment had been exchanged by the other players as they witnessed Bart Hodge’s repeated acts of insubordination. Bart seemed to be in a very unpleasant frame of mind, favoring everybody with savage glances and paying absolutely no attention to the directions of the stage manager. In the eyes of actors there is no more unpardonable offense than to treat the stage manager thus.

And Havener was not the man to overlook such offenses. Obviously he was incensed. But he understood how close to Frank Bart was, how strong were Frank’s feelings of friendship and loyalty to the dark-haired youth, and he controlled his wrath until finally he could tolerate the behavior of Hodge no longer.

He called out sharply:

“Now, make your exit properly, please.”

Bart Hodge gave Roscoe Havener an angry, resentful look.

“Did you call me back for that?” he asked.

“I certainly did,” answered the stage manager, grimly.

“Because you took the wrong exit. I have told you repeatedly to use the right upper at the close of that scene, and you persist in leaving the stage by the right tormentor.”

“It is the most convenient,” came sullenly from Bart.

“That makes no difference.”

“It makes considerable difference to me.”

Havener was angry, but he held himself in restraint. He did not curse, after the manner of most stage managers, but he showed that he meant what he said when he spoke again.

“You will do as I tell you at rehearsals, Mr. Hodge.”

“Oh, will I?” said Bart, in a manner that was decidedly insolent. “Oh, I don’t know!”

“I know. Further than that, I will have no further back talk from you.”

“I don’t see how you will prevent it.”

“You are fined ten dollars.”

“It is. Now you will make your exit in the proper manner.”

Instead of that, Hodge walked off the stage by the tormentor.

Havener did not call him back again, but his face turned pale with anger.

Frank was in a dressing room, and did not hear what took place on the stage between Havener and Hodge.

Deep in his heart Bart felt that he was wrong, but he smothered the feeling, refused to pause to reason, and hurried to the dressing room, where he knew he would find Merriwell.

Frank was laying out his costumes and preparing for the evening performance.

Hodge entered without knocking, and Merry knew in a moment, on looking up, that something was wrong.

“Look here, Merriwell!” he flared.

“What’s the matter, old man?”

“I’ve stood enough of this! It’s the limit!”

“What are you talking about, Bart? What’s the limit?”

“Havener is the limit.”

“I don’t think I understand you, my dear fellow.”

“Don’t ‘dear fellow’ me! I am in no mood to take it now.”

Plainly enough something serious had happened, for Bart was not in the habit of talking that way. Frank straightened up and looked at him steadily without speaking. Bart’s eyes dropped before that gaze, but the sullen look did not leave his face, and he stared at the floor as if glaring at a deadly enemy.