There was no discussion.  Michael’s jaw dropped and his forefeet began their restless lifting after several measures had been played.  And Harris Collins stepped close to him and sang with him and in accord.

“Harry Del Mar was right when he said that dog was the limit and sold his troupe.  He knew.  The dog’s a dog Caruso.  No howling chorus of mutts such as Kingman used to carry around with him, but a real singer, a soloist.  No wonder he wouldn’t learn tricks.  He had his specially all the time.  And just to think of it!  I as good as gave him away to that dog-killing Wilton Davis.  Only he came back.—­Johnny, take extra care of him after this.  Bring him up to the house this afternoon, and I’ll give him a real try-out.  My daughter plays the violin.  We’ll see what music he’ll sing with her.  There’s a mint of money in him, take it from me.”

* * * * *

Thus was Michael discovered.  The afternoon’s try-out was partially successful.  After vainly attempting strange music on him, Collins found that he could sing, and would sing, “God Save the King” and “Sweet Bye and Bye.”  Many hours of many days were spent in the quest.  Vainly he tried to teach Michael new airs.  Michael put no heart of love in the effort and sullenly abstained.  But whenever one of the songs he had learned from Steward was played, he responded.  He could not help responding.  The magic was stronger than he.  In the end, Collins discovered five of the six songs he knew:  “God Save the King,” “Sweet Bye and Bye,” “Lead, Kindly Light,” “Home, Sweet Home,” and “Roll Me Down to Rio.”  Michael never sang “Shenandoah,” because Collins and Collins’s daughter did not know the old sea-chanty and therefore were unable to suggest it to him.

“Five songs are enough, if he won’t never learn another note,” Collins concluded.  “They’ll make him a bill-topper anywhere.  There’s a mint in him.  Hang me if I wouldn’t take him out on the road myself if only I was young and footloose.”

CHAPTER XXXII

And so Michael was ultimately sold to one Jacob Henderson for two thousand dollars.  “And I’m giving him away to you at that,” said Collins.  “If you don’t refuse five thousand for him before six months, I don’t know anything about the show game.  He’ll skin that last arithmetic dog of yours to a finish and you won’t have to show yourself and work every minute of the turn.  And if you don’t insure him for fifty thousand as soon as he’s made good you’ll be a fool.  Why, I wouldn’t ask anything better, if I was young and footloose, than to take him out on the road myself.”