st when it's becoming interesting."

At this McTeague, acting upon a suggestion of Marcus Schouler's,
insisted they should stay at the flat over night. Marcus and the dentist
would give up their rooms to them and sleep at the dog hospital. There
was a bed there in the sick ward that old Grannis sometimes occupied
when a bad case needed watching. All at once McTeague had an idea, a
veritable inspiration.

"And we'll--we'll--we'll have--what's the matter with having something
to eat afterward in my 'Parlors'?"

"Vairy goot," commented Mrs. Sieppe. "Bier, eh? And some damales."

"Oh, I love tamales!" exclaimed Trina, clasping her hands.

McTeague returned to the city, rehearsing his instructions over and
over. The theatre party began to assume tremendous proportions. First of
all, he was to get the seats, the third or fourth row from the front, on
the left-hand side, so as to be out of the hearing of the drums in the
orchestra; he must make arrangements about the rooms with Marcus, must
get in the beer, but not the tamales; must buy for himself a white lawn
tie--so Marcus directed; must look to it that Maria Macapa put his room
in perfect order; and, finally, must meet the Sieppes at the ferry slip
at half-past seven the following Monday night.

The real labor of the affair began with the buying of the tickets. At
the theatre McTeague got into wrong entrances; was sent from one wicket
to another; was bewildered, confused; misunderstood directions; was at
one moment suddenly convinced that he had not enough money with him,
and started to return home. Finally he found himself at the box-office
wicket.

"Is it here you buy your seats?"

"How many?"

"Is it here--"

"What night do you want 'em? Yes, sir, here's the place."

McTeague gravely delivered himself of the formula he had been reciting
for the last dozen hours.

"I want four seats for Monday night in the fourth row from the front,
and on the right-hand side."

"Right hand as you face the house or as you face the stage?" McTeague
was dumfounded.

"I want to be on the right-hand side," he insisted, stolidly; adding,
"in order to be away from the drums."

"Well, the drums are on the right of the orchestra as you face the
stage," shouted the other impatiently; "you want to the left, then, as
you face the house."

"I want to be on the right-hand side," persisted the dentist.

Without a word the seller threw out four tickets with a magnificent,
superci