or now. Go ahead and do that love scene for me."

Slowly the scene was brought to Baird's liking. Slowly, because Merton
Gill at first proved to be diffident at the crisis. For three rehearsals
the muscular arm of Miss Montague had most of the clenching to do. He
believed he was being rough and masterful, but Baird wished a
greater show of violence. They had also to time this scene with the
surreptitious entrance of the brother, his theft of the money which he
stuffed into a paper sack and placed in the ice-box, and his exit.

The leading man having at last proved that he could be Harold Parmalee
even in this crisis, the scene was extended to the entrance of the
indignant father. He was one of those self-made men of wealth, Merton
thought, a short, stout gentleman with fiery whiskers, not at all
fashionably dressed. He broke upon the embrace with a threatening stick.
The pair separated, the young lover facing him, proud, erect, defiant,
the girl drooping and confused.

The father discharged Merton Gill with great brutality, then went to the
safe at the back of the room, returning to shout the news that he had
been robbed by the man who would have robbed him of his daughter. It
looked black for Merton. Puzzled at first, he now saw that the idolized
brother of the girl must have taken the money. He seemed about to
declare this when his nobler nature compelled him to a silence that must
be taken for guilt.

The erring brother returned, accompanied by several customers. "Bring a
detective to arrest this man," ordered the father. One of the customers
stepped out to return with a detective. Again Merton was slightly
disquieted at perceiving that the detective was the cross-eyed man.
This person bustled about the place, tapping the cooked meats and the
cheeses, and at last placed his hand upon the shoulder of the supposed
thief. Merton, at Baird's direction, drew back and threatened him with
a blow. The detective cringed and said: "I will go out and call a
policeman."

The others now turned their backs upon the guilty man. Even the girl
drew away after one long, agonized look at the lover to whose embrace
she had so lately submitted. He raised his arms to her in mute appeal as
she moved away, then dropped them at his side.

"Give her all you got in a look," directed Baird. "You're saying: 'I go
to a felon's cell, but I do it all for you.' Dream your eyes at her."
Merton Gill obeyed.

The action progressed. In this wait