cted for
her first try. She tripped in, confidently, and addressed the
office boy.

"Mr. Claghorn in?" she asked.

"Nope."

"When do you expect him?"

"Oh, any time. He's in and out."

"I'll wait."

"Probably won't be back until after lunch."

A railing shut off the hall where she stood from the office proper,
where the boy was on guard. Doors opened off this central room into the
private offices. There were no chairs in this hall, and the boy made no
move to open the railing.

"Is that large armchair in there rented for the day?" Bambi inquired.

"Not so far as I know," he grinned.

"Does this thing open, or do I have to jump it?" she smiled.

"Where are you goin'?"

"To the large armchair."

"Welcome to our city," said he, as he lifted the rail. "Nobody allowed
in here except by appointment."

"That's all right. I understand that," she said nonchalantly, and sank
into the haven of the chair.

All the details of the office, which bored Jarvis, or which he entirely
failed to see, fascinated Bambi. She set herself to the subjection of
the office boy, by a request for the baseball score.

"Say, are you a fan?" he asked.

"Can't you see it in my eye?"

He was launched. He gave her a minute biographical sketch of every
player on the team, his past and future possibilities. He went over all
the games of the past season, while Bambi turned an enraptured face
upon him.

He was frequently interrupted by actors and actresses who came by
appointment, or otherwise, and he gave her all the racy details
concerning them at his disposal. By indirection she obtained a
description of Claghorn, so that he might not escape her if he came in.

All the actors looked at her with interest, the actresses with disdain.
One whispered to the boy, who shook his head.

"Say, what you wid?" he asked her later.

"I don't understand you."

His look became suspicious. "What show you with?"

"With 'Success,'" she answered hastily, patting the manuscript.

"Roadshow?"

"No."

"Playing New York?"

"Not yet."

"Gimme two pasteboards when you come to town. I'd like to see you."

"All right. What's your name?"

"Robert Mantell Moses. I'm going on, in comic opera, some day."

"So?" said Bambi.

"Song and dance. Are you a dancer?"

"I am."

"Toe or Tango?"

"I beg pardon."

"Toe dancer, or Tango artist?"

"Oh, I do them both."

"Do you do the Kitchen Sink? And the Wash Tub?"

Bambi thought fast. "Yes.