d that he had better go to his dressing-room and
complete his make-up.

"All right," said Fogg. "Please excuse me, Mrs. Doolittle. Mr. Handy, I
will now leave charge of the stage to you. Ring in the orchestra at
eight o'clock sharp. I'll be ready."

"Correct," replied the stage manager. He then proceeded to take a survey
of the front of the house through the peep-hole in the drop curtain. The
house was filling up nicely, but, as Handy subsequently remarked, the
audience had a peculiar look that did not recommend itself to the
veteran's practiced eye.

"How it is?" inquired someone at Handy's elbow. On his turning about he
found it was his old friend Smith, of the _Gem of the Ocean_.

"Hello, old pal! Well, I don't know how to size it up. There's a fair
crowd, and if it is all money it's a good house. But it doesn't look to
me like a money house. The people in the audience appear to be too well
acquainted. They act as if they came to a picnic."

"Can you blame them?" replied Smith, who had a very low estimate of
amateur actors.

"I guess I'll ring in the spielers. Time's up." Suiting the action to
the word, he pressed the button. A few seconds later and a German
professor with blond hair of a musical cut approached the prompt stand.

"Ees dot Meister Vogue somewheres about here, I don't know?" he
inquired.

"In his dressing-room," curtly answered Handy.

"Ees dot so? Veil, then, I am Professor Funkenstein, und mein men der
money want before dot overture."

"You're in a large-sized hurry, ain't you?" replied the stage manager.
"Can't you hold on until the show is over? What's the matter with you?
Don't you see the house we have?"

"Mein freund, dot's all right. But mein men der money wants. Don't dink
I'm a fool because I'm a German man. I my money wants, too."

"Mr. Handy, why don't you ring in the orchestra?" spoke Fogg, who had
just come from his dressing-room made-up for _Claude Melnotte_. Catching
sight of the leader, he exclaimed: "What's the matter, Professor?"

"The matter is, Meister Vogue, mein men der money wants before they goes
out. Dot's vot's der matter!"

For a moment Fogg gazed at the orchestra leader in surprise, and then
indignantly declared: "This is simply outrageous! What do you take me
for, sir?" Then turning to his stage manager: "Mr. Handy, have you got a
slip of paper, in order that I may give this man an order on the box
office? How much is your bill? Ah, yes, I remember--sevent