sted every
day. She said it was more fun than a play, and that it was keeping her
alive."

"Humph! Well, go on. Tell me how it started." Laurie was smiling. If the
little episode just ended had been, as it were, a bobolink singing to
Louise Ordway during her final days on earth, it was not he who would
find fault with the bird or with those who had set it singing.

"The day we saw the caretaker in the window across the park," continued
Rodney, "and I realized how interested you were, it occurred to me that
we'd engage that studio and put Miss Mayo into it. Miss Mayo lives in
Richmond, Virginia, and she had been making a big hit in amateur
theatricals. She wanted to get on the legitimate stage, as Shaw told
you; so Mrs. Ordway suggested that Epstein and I try her out--"

"Never mind all that!" interrupted Laurie. "Perhaps later Miss Mayo will
tell me about it herself."

Bangs accepted the snub without resentment.

"Epstein thought it was a corking idea," he went on, "especially as we
expected to try out some of the scenes I have in mind for the new play.
But the only one you let us really get over was the suicide scene in the
first act. You balled up everything else we attempted," he ended with a
sigh.

Laurie smiled happily.

"Were your elevator boys in on the secret?" he asked Doris.

"No, of course not."

"Now, what I meant to do was this--" Rodney spoke briskly. He was
recovering poise with extraordinary rapidity. His color was returning,
his brown eyes were again full of life. And, as always when his thoughts
were on his work, he was utterly oblivious to any other interest. "The
second act was to be--"

He stopped and stared. Epstein had risen, had ponderously approached
him, and had resolutely grasped him by one ear.

"Rodney," said the manager, with ostentatious subtlety, "you don't know
it, but you got a date up-town in five minutes."

His voice and manner enlightened the obtuse Mr. Bangs.

"Oh, er--yes," stammered that youth, confusedly, and reluctantly got to
his feet.

"Wait a minute," said Laurie. "Before you fellows go, there's one more
little matter we've got to straighten out." They turned to him, and at
the expression of utter devotion on the two faces the sternness left
young Devon's eyes. "I was pretty mad about this business for a few
minutes after Shaw explained it," he went on. "You folks didn't have
much mercy, you know. You fooled me to the top of my bent. But now I
feel that we'