Boys -- Fiction; City and town life -- Fiction; Newspaper employees -- Fiction
"They are all goin' ter Gorham's," crowed Pete, rejoicing in the
prospective crowds as if he had a share in the receipts.
Ned began to think it a fine thing too. He had all the afflatus of
public amusement. To be one of a great joyful crowd seemed to him to
multiply the pleasure by the multitude. His step grew light. He heard
the light steps behind him. Everybody was going, and he was going too.
The theatre was well filled before they came in sight of the massive
building. In front of it on the sidewalk was a gilded standard
supporting a pyramid of gas-jets. A circle of boys sat beneath this
with fans to sell, for the May weather was growing warm and the
palm-leaf industry was looking up. The boys had besieged the crowd
as it was entering the theatre, and now they waited to waylay the
belated pleasure-seeker. At a distance the pyramid, with the circle of
fluttering palm leaves beneath it, looked like some strange, gigantic,
many-petaled flower.
Pete stopped short at the sight.
"Bust them fellers! We mustn't let on ter them."
"_Naw_, sir! Naw, _sir_!" exclaimed Ned, with emphasis.
Both turned at once from the broad avenue, scuttled hastily down a side
street, then plunged into the mysterious darkness of an alley. In a
moment they were under the back window of the theatre.
A mellow dim light from within showed that the sash was lifted. The
tremulous wail of a violin drifted out to them. The orchestra had
begun to tune their instruments. There was no time to lose. Ned turned
hurriedly to Pete.
"Up with ye,--I'll boost."
To his surprise Pete drew back. His face was concealed by the darkness,
and his hoarse voice was sunk to a husky mutter.
"Hey? wha' say?" demanded Ned.
Pete grew more intelligible.
"I hain't never been in there," he remonstrated, as if the adventure
were altogether Ned's scheme. "I dunno wher' I might come out at. I
might jump right inter a--a--hornet's nest."
"I say!" exclaimed Ned sarcastically. "But if you are weakening I'll go
fust."
"Well,--I wuz thinkin' as much," muttered Pete.
Ned needed no boosting. The foundation of the building was of rough
stone, and offered some hold for his fingers and feet. He was a light
weight, even for his tender years, and as wiry and active as a cat. Up
and up he went till his grimy, ink-streaked paws clutched the outer
moulding of the window frame,--a scientific jerk, and his hands and
knees were on the sill.
He paused to listen. He heard only the orchestra. The music was now in
full swing. He peeped cautiously within, then drew back his head with a
suddenness which almost precipitated him from the window.
"Is ennybody there?" gasped Pete, ready to run.
"Dunno!" panted Ned.
He peeped cautiously within once more. He was becoming accustomed to
the dim light, and this time he saw distinctly close to the window a
great gilded dragon, that had added to its ancient glories the triumph
of frightening the devil almost out of his wits.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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