him enthusiastically the best actor in the lot.

"Happy's swallowed his medicine--that's what ails him," the Japanese
Dwarf whispered to Captain Kidd, and grinned.

The Captain turned his head and studied the brooding features of the
giant. "He's doing some thinking," he decided. "When he gets the
thing figured out, in six months or a year, and savvies it was a put-up
job from the start, somebody'll have it coming."

"He can't pulverize the whole bunch, and he'll never wise up to who's
the real sinner," Weary comforted himself.

"Don't you believe it. Happy doesn't think very often; when he does
though, he can ring the bell--give him time enough."

"Here, you statues over there want to let up on the chin-whacking or
I'll hand yuh a few with this," commanded _Mrs. Jarley_, and shook the
stove-poker threateningly.

The Japanese Dwarf returned to his poisoned rice and Captain Kidd
apologized to his victim, who was frowning reproof at him, and the
rehearsal proceeded haltingly.

That night, Weary rode home beside Happy Jack and tried to lift him out
of the slough of despond. But Happy refused to budge, mentally, an
inch. He rode humped in the saddle like a calf in its first blizzard,
and he was discouragingly unresponsive; except once, when Weary
reminded him that the tableau would need no rehearsing and that it
would only last a minute, anyway, and wouldn't hurt. Whereupon Happy
Jack straightened and eyed him meditatively and finally growled, "Aw
gwan; I betche you put her up to it, yuh darned chump."

After that Weary galloped ahead and overtook the others and told them
Happy Jack was thinking and mustn't be disturbed, and that he thought
it would not be fatal to anyone, though it was kinda hard on Happy.

From that night till Christmas eve, Happy Jack continued to think. It
was not, however, till the night of the entertainment, when he was
riding gloomily alone on his way to the school-house, that Happy Jack
really felt that his brain had struck pay dirt. He took off his hat,
slapped his horse affectionately over the ears with it and grinned for
the first time since the Thanksgiving dance. "Yes sir," he said
emphatically aloud, "I betche that's how it is, all right and I
betche--"

The schoolma'am, her cheeks becomingly pink from excitement, fluttered
behind the curtain for a last, flurried survey of stage properties and
actors. "Isn't Johnny here, yet?" she asked of Annie Pilgreen who had
just come