Читать книгу Frank Merriwell's Own Company; Or, Barnstorming in the Middle West - Burt L. Standish - Страница 7

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While the pianist was playing, Frank retired behind the scenes to change his coat and make arrangements for the trick he was about to attempt.

Manager Burnham came rushing in.

"I congratulate you, young man!" he exclaimed. "You have done well so far, but you are going it a little too steep."

"How's that?" Merry asked.

"In guaranteeing satisfaction at the end of the show. Even Zolverein himself wouldn't do that, for there's always a few soreheads who are never satisfied, and when one man walks up and calls for his money others are encouraged to do the same."

"Don't let that worry you, Mr. Burnham. I'll stand for every dollar you have to refund."

That seemed to relieve the manager's apprehensions somewhat, but he went on:

"Then you made a mistake in promising so much in the performance to come. You can do your own tricks all right, but when it comes to Zolverein's——"

"Wait, Mr. Burnham. You are not competent to judge till you have seen what I can do. I shall have the assistance of Monsieur Mazarin in doing his most difficult feats."

"But I'm afraid you will bungle one of them, and that will ruin everything. One false move in this kind of a show spoils the whole business."

Frank simply smiled.

"I am not afraid of making any false moves," he said, carefully arranging his coat. "The little trick I am about to perform is not the simplest on the list. Go out in front and watch me."

Then he walked onto the stage, just as the pianist ceased playing.

"Now," said Merry, smiling on his audience and appearing perfectly at his ease, "I would like to borrow a handkerchief—a gentleman's handkerchief. Who will be good enough to let me have one a few moments? Some one, please."

He walked down the steps, while several gentlemen held up handkerchiefs. He passed two of them, selecting one that was pretty large.

"This one will do," he said, lightly, giving it a flirt and spreading it out.

Then he looked around inquiringly, asking:

"Are there any gentlemen in the audience who are good judges of wine? If so, let them call for whatever they prefer."

"Sherry," called one.

Instantly Frank produced a brimming glass of sherry from the handkerchief and passed it to the one who had called for it.

"I think you will find that all right," he said, blandly, giving the handkerchief a flirt. "Next."

"Port," called another.

Barely was the word spoken when Frank took another brimming glass of wine from the handkerchief.

"Rare old port," he smiled, passing it to the one who had called. "How is that sherry, sir?"

"It is sherry all right," was the answer; "and good sherry, at that. Thank you."

"And this is port," said the other, smacking his lips.

"Some one else, please," called Frank, looking around.

"Claret," said a voice.

Out of the handkerchief Frank drew a glass of claret.

"Tokay."

As the word was spoken Merry flirted the handkerchief to show there was nothing in it, but the following instant he took out a glass of tokay and passed it to the one who had called.

"Rhine wine," he said himself, pretending he had heard some person call for it. "Here it is, sir. Who asked for it? You?"

He placed it in an outstretched hand.

"Champagne," laughed a rather lively-looking lad.

Again the handkerchief was flirted, and then out from beneath its folds came the brimming glass of champagne, the glass being so full that a little of it was spilled as Frank passed it to the one who had called.

"Of course I am not able to treat everyone present," said Merry, apologetically. "I trust no one will be offended."

He gathered up the emptied glasses and started for the stage. Then, of a sudden, he turned about, looking around.

"What's that?" he said, pretending to overhear a remark. "Not satisfied? Think I am partial. Well, I don't like to seem partial to anyone. If you will wait, I think I can supply all present who wish something."

Then he passed the handkerchief to the one from whom he had borrowed it, thanking him for its use, and hastened upon the stage.

"I will bring out a bottle of wine, ladies and gentlemen," he said.

He left the stage for a moment.

Almost immediately he reappeared with a small bottle in his hand, an ordinary pint wine bottle.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Frank, "I have found this little bottle very handy in emergencies like the present. You see it is empty just now. I will rinse it out, in order that no one may fear to drink whatever comes from it."

The assistant brought on a dish of water and a towel. Frank proceeded to rinse out the bottle before the eyes of the spectators. Then he dried it with the towel.

When he had completed this task, M. Mazarin came on with a large tray which was literally covered with wine glasses, a hundred in all, at least.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen," said Merry, as he followed M. Mazarin from the stage to the center aisle, "I will supply port wine from this bottle for all present who may wish to drink."

With that he began pouring wine from the apparently empty bottle into the glasses, passing swiftly up the aisle. The glasses were given out as fast as they were filled, and the astonishment of the audience increased as Frank continued to pour wine from the originally empty bottle till he had filled every glass on the tray.

"There," he laughed, tripping back to the stage, while the assistant collected the emptied glasses, "I trust everyone is satisfied now."

"Zolverein never did it better!" cried a voice, and the applause was all that Merry could desire.