o learn how to do without them.

Emptying her glass, she rose from her seat and strolled toward where
Elfie St. Clair was still sitting with the two men.

"Hello, Laura!" cried her friend as she came up. "We saw you from the
distance. Come and sit down. These gentlemen are friends of mine--Mr.
Warner--Mr. Madison--Miss Murdock."

The men bowed, while Elfie made room for the newcomer.

"Won't you take something?" asked Warner politely.

"No, thank you--I've just had a bite."

"Why did Mr. Brockton run away?" demanded Elfie, unable to restrain her
feminine curiosity. His sudden departure was unusual enough to suggest
a lover's quarrel.

"He had to catch a train--important business in Boston," replied Laura
carelessly. Impulsively she burst out: "Oh, Elfie--what do you think? I
got that stock engagement after all. I'm perfectly daffy about it. I
play leads in 'Camille,' 'Mrs. Dane's Defense,' and such plays as
that."

"Where is it?" demanded Elfie.

"In Denver. Don't you remember? I told you I was after it?"

"Denver? Why that's where Mr. Madison comes from."

Both girls turned and looked at the big Westerner. Laura regarded him
with more attention. If this man was from Denver, he might be useful to
her. She was not the kind to neglect anything that was likely to
promote her interests. Looking him well over, she noted his big,
muscular frame, his steel-gray eyes, and determined, prognathous jaw.
It was a type of manhood that was new to her. He was decidedly worth
cultivating.

"You live in Denver?" she said, trying on him the effect of her dimpled
smile, which was irresistible to most men.

He nodded carelessly.

"Yes--I'm with one of the newspapers there."

"Oh!"

She was glad now that she had come over to Elfie's table. Decidedly
this man would be very useful. It is always a good thing to know
journalists. It suggested favorable paragraphs and good notices in the
papers. She remembered what a philosophical chorus girl once told her:
"Rather a good press agent than great talent." Forthwith Laura exerted
herself to be very amiable. She laughed and chatted and when Madison,
in his turn, ordered a bottle of wine, she graciously allowed him to
drink to her success.

"But you must help me!" she said coquettishly.

"Sure!" he answered gayly, half in jest.

She inquired about Denver, the life there, the theatres, and their
audiences. She asked his advice as to the best hotel for her to stop
at, question