ew moments. If
you will kindly grant us your patience for a very few minutes...." He
backed precipitately from view, hounded by mocking applause.

A lull fell, but only temporarily. As the minutes lengthened, the
gallery grew more and more obstreperous and turbulent. Wave upon wave of
sound swept through the auditorium to break, roaring, against the
obdurate curtain. When eventually a second figure appeared before the
footlights, the audience seemed to understand that Max dared not show
himself again, and why. It was with difficulty that the man--evidently
the stage-manager--contrived to make himself disconnectedly audible.

"Ladies and ..." he shouted, sweat beading his perturbed forehead ...
"regret ... impossible to continue ... money ... box-office...."

An angry howl drowned him out. He retreated at accelerated discretion.

Whitaker, slipping through the stage-door behind the boxes, ran into the
last speaker standing beside the first entrance, heatedly explaining to
any one who would listen the utter futility of offering box-office
prices in return for seat checks which in the majority of instances had
cost their holders top-notch speculator prices.

"They'll wreck the theatre," he shouted excitedly, mopping his brow with
his coat sleeve, "and damned if I blame 'em! What t'ell'd she wana pull
a raw one like this for?"

Whitaker caught his arm in a grasp compelling attention.

"Where's Miss Law?" he asked.

"You tell me and I'll make you a handsome present," retorted the man.

"What's happened to her? Can't you find her?"

"I dunno--go ask Max."

"Where is _he_?"

"You can search me; last I saw of him he was tearing the star
dressin'-room up by the roots."

Whitaker hurried on just in time to see Max disappearing in the
direction of the stage-door, at which point he caught up with him, and
from the manager's disjointed catechism of the doorkeeper garnered the
information that the star had hurried out of the building while Max was
making his announcement before the curtain.

Max swung angrily upon Whitaker.

"Oh, it's you, is it? Perhaps you can explain what this means? She was
looking straight at you when she dried up! I saw her--"

"Perhaps you'd better find Miss Law and ask her," Whitaker interrupted.
"Have you any idea where she's gone?"

"Home, probably," Max snapped in return.

"Where's that?"

"Fifty-seventh Street--house of her own--just bought it."

"Come on, then." Passing his arm t