l got was that of utter confusion. People were
darting here and there, in ordinary clothes, or in all sorts of makeups.
Stage carpenters were creating a terrific racket, building a new scene.
A tangle of electric light cables, a blinding glare from the arcs, a
confusion of voices, a wilderness of scenery and "props" all combined to
create an impression quite the reverse of what he had expected. Here, he
felt, was something very different from the theater, something bigger,
yet more elemental, in which vast sums were expended daily to amuse a
vaster indeed, a world-wide, audience. He sat down upon a box, and
inspected the scene before him.

"Miss Morton will be on in a few moments," his guide said.

Duvall nodded. His attention was fixed upon the little drama going on
before him. He knew nothing of the plot of the play, but the mechanical
features of the operation held his interest keenly. The brilliant
electric lights, the setting of the little room, the actors in their
ghastly greenish makeups, the camera man, grinding stolidly away at his
machine, the director, hovering about like a hawk, watching every
movement, every gesture, with a superlatively critical eye, all spoke to
him of a new world, and one with which he was not in the least familiar.

Suddenly he saw the lovely face of Ruth Morton, as the girl appeared
from an open doorway. She did not take part in the picture at once, but
stood chatting with the director, awaiting the moment when she would
make her entrance. Duvall watched her intently. Her face, he thought,
was drawn, nervous, her expression one of fear. She seemed suspicious of
every one who came near her, as though she suspected that every stage
hand, every electrician or helper, had in his possession a bottle of
vitriol, which he only awaited the moment to hurl in her face. That the
girl's nervous manner, her strained and tense expression, was evident to
others as well as to himself, he realized from a remark his companion
made to him.

"Miss Morton doesn't seem herself to-day," he said. "She must have
something on her mind. I shouldn't be surprised if she has been working
too hard lately."

Duvall made no reply. He was watching, not only Ruth, but those about
her. In particular he observed the other women in the cast. It seemed
not improbable that among them he would find the one whose envy had led
to the sending of the threats Ruth had been receiving.

Presently the scene was finished, and Ru