When the drop-curtain slowly rose that Saturday evening fully three
thousand people crowded the hall, eager for any fresh excitement; and
ready enough either to taunt or applaud a performer, as the whim moved
them. Bearded miners conspicuous in red shirts; cattlemen wearing wide
sombreros and hairy "chaps"; swarthy Mexicans lazily puffing the
inseparable cigarette; gamblers attired in immaculate linen, together
with numerous women gaudy of cheek and attire, composed a frontier
audience full of possibilities. The result might easily prove good or
evil, according to the prevailing temper, but fortunately the "Heart of
the World" quickly caught the men's fancy, the laughter ringing loud in
appreciation of Mr. Lane's ardent buffoonery, while the motley crowd
sat in surprised silence evincing respect, as Miss Norvell drove home
to their minds the lesson of a woman's sorrow and struggle against
temptation. It was well worth while looking out across the oil-lamp
footlights upon those hard-faced, bearded men, those gaudily attired
women, thus held and controlled by perfectly depleted emotion, the vast
audience so silent that the click of the wheel, the rattle of ivory
chips in the rooms beyond, became plainly audible. There was
inspiration in it likewise, and never before did Beth Norvell more
clearly exhibit her native power, her spark of real genius.
Winston found little to do in his department that night, either on or
off the stage, as the company expected to spend Sunday in the place.
Consequently, he was only slightly behind the other members of the
troupe in attaining the hotel at the conclusion of the evening's
performance. Indeed, he was earlier than many, for most of the male
members had promptly adjourned to the convenient bar-room, with
whatsoever small sums of money they could wring from out the reluctant
palm of Albrecht. Winston chanced to pause for a moment at the cigar
stand to exchange a pleasant good-night word with the seemingly genial
clerk.
"You one of the actors?" questioned the latter, exhibiting some slight
interest.
The young man nodded indifferently, not feeling unduly proud of the
distinction.
"Sorry I couldn't have been there," the other went on cordially. "The
boys tell me you gave 'em a mighty fine show, but I 'm here to bet that
some of your people wish they 'd steered clear of San Juan."
"How's that?"
"Why, that fat fellow--what's his name?--oh, yes, Albrecht--the sheriff
was in here hunting him with some papers he had to serve, and it would
have made you laugh just to see that duck climb out when I met him
yonder on the street a few minutes ago, and gave him the highball.
Guest of the house, you know, and we did n't want him pinched in here;
besides, we understood he carried the scads for the rest of your bunch,
and we naturally wanted our share. The sheriff's out tryin' to find
him now; but Lord! the fellow 's safe enough out of the county by this
time, if he skipped the way I advised him he 'd better. There was an
extra ore train goin' down to Bolton to-night, and he just had time to
catch it on the run."