Previously in the book: Harley bought his own show to travel the plains of West Texas. Their daughter Gloria was now a beautiful teen-ager, and Billie was sinking into alchoholism.

On the stage Harley was in his full regalia as the old Southern gentleman sitting in his rocking chair and reading the newspaper. If members of the audience had been able to read the front page, they would have seen that it was the Sweetwater publication which would have been at least a month old. Even if they could have seen the writing, they would not have cared. It was Harley they came to see.
Billie, made up like a sweet grandmother, rocked and concentrated on her knitting. The telephone rang and Harley answered it.
“Hello, Byron!” he exclaimed. “Byron, is that right? You don’t say, Byron. Well, Byron, see you later. So long, Byron.” He hung up and turned to Billie. “You’ll never guess who that was. It was Byron.”
The audience had heard that joke many times before in different plays and by the many characters that Harley had created. Still they laughed and applauded. Even the family who had fussed a bit as they rode in its wagon on the way to the tent was relaxed. The husband and wife held hands. The children sat still, their mouths agape. The parents didn’t know how they were going to pay the bills tomorrow, but they laughed tonight. It was Harley.
After the show and when most people made their way home, a few desperate farmers lingered to talk to Harley in his dressing room. In the outer room Charlie sat at his desk. He shook his head when Jim Bob shyly stepped into the dressing room. Billy and Sammy, the same boys who had tried to sneak into the tent earlier in the evening, wandered over to Charlie.
“What’s your papa saying to Harley?” Charlie really did not have natural grace around people. He knew how to count money and how to save money. He did not know how to make small talk with children nor did he have any desire to acquire that ability.
“I don’t know.” Billy looked over the desk.
“I can imagine,” Charlie muttered. “Things pretty rough on the farm?”
“I don’t know,” Sammy echoed his brother.
“Well, what do you know?” Charlie demanded.
“Somebody told us you keep gum in one of the drawers in your desk.”
Charlie grunted. “I guess you wouldn’t want any, either, would you?”
“Yes sir!” Sammy answered with a smile.
Charlie opened a small drawer and took out a stick for each of them.
“Thank you, sir,” Billy whispered.
After squinting at the boys a long moment Charlie reached back into the drawer and pulled out two packs of chewing gum.
“You can have a pack each if you promise two things.”
“You bet!” Sammy grinned.
“First,” Charlie began ominously, “Only chew one stick a night. That’ll make it last longer.” He paused to make sure the boys understood. “And second, don’t tell where you got it.” He looked up to see Harley and the boys’ father come out of the dressing room. “You two better skedaddle. I got a feeling Harley wants to discuss business.”
“Yes sir!” Sammy saluted and then dragged his brother outside.
Harley ambled up with a hand carelessly draped across Jim Bob’s thin shoulder.
“How much?” Charlie kept his head down.
“Oh, I think three hundred, don’t you think, Jim Bob?”
“Three—“Charlie froze, flabbergasted, shook his head and counted out the bills from the till. “Three hundred.”
Charlie began to write out a loan agreement, but Harley grabbed the pen from his hand.
“Don’t bother with that, Charlie,” Harley muttered. He took the cash from the desk and thrust it into the farmer’s bib overall pocket. “We don’t need any paper with ol’ Jim Bob here.”
The farmer hung his head and shook Harley’s hand. “Harley, I don’t know how…” his voice trailed off.
“Now don’t you worry about a thing.” Harley guided him to the tent flap. “We can settle up when we come through next fall.”
Jim Bob tried to speak again, but Harley shook his hand and turned back to his dressing room.
“Saw your two boys earlier tonight,” Harley called out over his shoulder. “Really growing like weeds.”
Shaking his head, the farmer left the tent and disappeared into the night. Charlie tightened his lips in disapproval and went into the dressing room. He marched over to Harley who continued to take his makeup off.
“And do you mind telling me, Mr. Loan Officer,” Charlie began in his best sarcastic voice, “how are we going to bankroll that show in Dallas now that you’ve given away three hundred more dollars?”
He rubbed a towel over his face. “Aww, he needed it more than we do.”
“Nobody needs it more than we do, Harley. Do you know how many unsecured loans we have out there on these dirt farmers?”
“Oh, a couple of thousand, maybe.” Harley concentrated on looking in the mirror as he combed his hair.
“I stopped counting at $80,000.” Charlie paused hoping the amount would sink into Harley’s skull. “I figured it wasn’t worth keeping up with anymore.”
“That much?” Harley began to wrap his tie around his collar. “Oh well, Sam and I are going to a hot poker game tonight. We’ll win enough to bankroll Dallas.”
“And what if you don’t?”
“Why, Charlie!” Harley exclaimed with a laugh. “Don’t you read your Bible? Those who do good unto others have good things done unto them.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever read the book of Job?”
“Never heard of it,” he continued with a laugh.
“And—and it isn’t just Dallas.” Charlie stammered as he tried to find the courage to confront his boss with the cold hard facts of their financial situation. “It’s our other debts.”
“What other debts?”
The bookkeeper could not tell if Harley was feigning innocence or if he had submerged himself into the fantasy world of the theatre or if he consciously chose to play the role of savior to the floundering farmers of the dust bowl.
“San Angelo, for one,” he whispered.
“Oh.”
“Remember last December?” Charlie decided to forge ahead. “You took off to Big Spring where Goff’s Comedians—our number one competition—was stranded, and you gave them the rent money we owed the San Angelo civic auditorium so Goff could move on.”
Harley put on his coat and checked his wallet for poker money. “Aww, the civic auditorium people understood. Said we could pay it back a little at a time.”
“And that’s what we’re doing every month—a little at a time.”
“Well, Charlie,” he replied with a sigh, “I guess I’m just not as tough as you.”
“You can say that again.”
Harley turned and was about to leave when he stopped. “By the way, did the boys get a full pack of gum each?”
“What’s the use of trying to reason with you?” he growled as he returned to tote the numbers for the night. “Hmph. Don’t remember.”