"Yes, sir."
"About that act of yours. Did you think it out all yourself?"
"The idea was mine. Of course the property man and Mr. Kennedy
worked it out for me. I should not have been able to do it
alone."
"Humph! Little they did. They wouldn't have thought of it in a
thousand years. Performers usually are too well satisfied with
themselves to think there's anything worthwhile except what
they've been doing since they came out of knickerbockers. How'd
you get the idea?"
"I don't know--it just came to me."
"Then keep on thinking. That act is worth real money to any
show. How much did I say I'd pay you?"
"Ten dollars a week, sir."
"Humph! I made a mistake. I won't give you ten."
Phil looked solemn.
"I'll give you twenty. I'd give you more, but it might spoil
you. Get out of here and go buy yourself a coat."
CHAPTER XVI
HIS FIRST SETBACK
"Tha--thank--"
"Out with you!"
Laughing, his face flushed with pride and satisfaction, Phil did
move. Not even pausing to note what direction he should go, he
hurried on toward the village, perhaps more by instinct than
otherwise. He was too full of this wonderful thing that had come
to him--success--to take note of his surroundings.
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