rived agent had been courteous to him.
Probably the twenty-five cents and two free tickets had something to do
with Alfred's leaning towards the second show.

Harrison was finally located at Bill Wyatt's, a place he had not
frequented in a long time as the slate bore figures that had been
written on it about the date Harrison struck the town. Harrison had
partially squared the score with circus tickets. Harrison was just able
to walk with Alfred's assistance. As they wobbled down wide Market
Street Alfred imagined the man in a mood to be approached. He reminded
Harrison of the half dollar long over due, and obligingly offered to
take it out in circus tickets.

Harrison scorned the proposition. Straightening himself up he endeavored
to push Alfred aside as he proudly exclaimed: "I don't want you to take
anything out in circus tickets. I'll pay cash after the circus."

It required all of Alfred's powers to make Harrison understand that
there was another circus agent in town, another circus coming. Harrison
persisted in the belief that it was the same agent with whom he had done
business.

Stowe meanwhile, as all intelligent agents do, had gone to headquarters.
As Alfred, with his tow, entered the office, the owner of the paper
turned on the managing editor, foreman of the composing room, etc., and
let loose a tirade of abuse such as Alfred had never heard the like of
before:

[Illustration: "Put Up Your Things and Git!"]

"You damned little shriveled up, whiskey soaked, tobacco smoked,
copperhead. What in hell do you mean by making a contract like this for
my paper? I'll cram it down your jaundiced jaws, you whelp of hell,
you!" And the rage of Hurd, who was a very large, fat man, caused his
face to turn purple. "Pack up your things and git, or I'll slap you into
the bowels of the jail. I know enough about you and your record on that
traitor sheet, (he referred to the opposition paper, the _Genius of
Liberty_), to have you and all connected with it sent to Johnson's
Island. Git out of yere!" yelled Hurd.

Harrison pulled away from Alfred and in the effort fell partially over a
settee as he sputtered out: "I'm a gemptman, what-smatter with Hanner."
He intended to use the cant phrase, "That's what's the matter with
Hannah."

Hurd shook a purplish looking bit of paper in Harrison's face: "What do
you mean, you shrimp, by entering into a contract to the effect that no
other circus can use my paper?"

Harrison atte