West Texas farmboy Harley Sadler traveled the High Plains starring as comic sidekick in melodrama tent shows. He married Billie and made keep on his promise to her family that he would have his own show one day. He made farmers laugh and helped them out during the 1920s and 1930s. His daughter Gloria died, and he retired, only to make one more try with a traveling tent show.

Harley’s brow knitted, his dreams centered on his opening a large Bible and trying to find the Book of Job. No matter how hard he looked he could not find it. He had to find an answer somewhere about why good men had to suffer. He told himself he did not mind the suffering if he only knew why it had to happen. The Book of Job must have the answer somewhere only if he could find the right chapter and verse. Eventually his eyes began to blur, unable to read the words on the pages. He felt a hand on his shoulder, rousing him from the nightmare. He was back at the showgrounds. Harley eased himself from the pickup cab, walked around to shake Mitch’s hand.
“You know, Harley—Mr. Sadler—there’s no rush on paying. Everyone knows you’re good for it.”
Harley grinned. “Don’t worry about it, Mitch. I’ll get a check to you by the end of the week. The show is going great guns. Money’s coming in faster than we can count it.”
“Sure, sure, no problem at all.” Mitch started the engine of his truck and drove off.
Standing there watching the truck disappear on the horizon, Harley felt the last bit of energy drain from his body. He had invested the all of the money he and Billie had put aside for their retirement, and now it was gone. What they would live on for the rest of their lives, he wondered. Harley had no idea.
Joe came up and grabbed his elbow, leading him back to the tent. “Harley, it’s gone too far.”
Sighing, he asked, “Can this wait, Joe?”
“No, it can’t” Joe replied firmly.
Harley stopped. If one more thing went wrong he did not know if he would be able to handle it. “All right. What is it?”
“I looked in the books this morning and found out we’re in the red.”
“What?” He did not have the energy to become angry.
“That was my reaction,” Joe continued grimly. “We’ve been on the road a month and filling the house every night, and we’re losing money.”
“What does Billie say?”
Joe paused a moment. His eyes strayed to the ground. “Harley, Billie’s the problem. When I looked closer, I saw the figures were in all the wrong columns. It’s her drinking. She’s making too many mistakes.”
“I’ll talk to her.” Harley turned to leave.
“No,” Joe announced. “I’m bringing in my own man.”
“I’ll tell her.”
“Now I think Billie’s a fine lady,” he continued using a conciliatory tone, “when she’s sober. And—and I don’t care if she stays on with the show playing roles but—“
“I think you’ve made yourself quite clear,” Harley cut him off with an icy stare.
The tour dragged on two more months. Billie seemed relieved when Harley informed her she would not be keeping books any more. Harley was not subtle in his increased supervision of her purses and coat pockets, anywhere she could stash a pint of whiskey.
Little girls in the arms of their parents drew Harley to them. He smiled and waved at them. Mothers and fathers handed their children over to him so they could get a picture of the great Harley Sadler with their little ones. Billie, on the other hand, kept her distance from girls with golden curls. She found her moment of satisfaction when she was decked out in her fanciest dress and sparkling jewelry. Admiring older ladies circled her and giggled in admiration.
Finally the tent came down for the last time. Crew and actors briskly packed trucks and cars. Harley and Billie walked to their sedan carrying their suitcases of costumes and makeup kits. As Billie loaded her bags, Harley shook hands with Joe.
“Well, we had some rough times there,” Joe said, “but I think we made out pretty well. Made some money.”
“I’m glad,” Harley replied. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Joe.”
“We worked out all the kinks this season. Next year will run much smoother.”
“Next?” he questioned as an eyebrow went up.
“Sure. Never stop when you’ve got a winning hand, and, buddy, we’re a winning hand.”
Harley shook his head. “Thanks, but this tour has taught me I’m too old for this.”
“Too old?” Joe questioned amiably. “Why, the people love you. Toby is ageless.”
“Toby may be ageless, but I’m not,” he chuckled.
Joe looked down and kicked at the dirt. “Harley, I hope you’re still not upset about, well, having to replace Billie on the books—“
“Oh no,” he interrupted magnanimously, “we did the right thing. I have no ill feelings toward you. In fact, you can use my name on the tour. I can’t go out for months at a time.” He glanced at Billie. “I can’t take her out for months at a time.”
“Oh.”
“I thought maybe going on tour again might take her mind off Gloria—but Gloria will never leave her—leave us.”
Joe shook his hand. “I enjoyed it.”
“I did too.” Harley looked over at the tents being folded away. “Yep, I enjoyed every minute of it.”