ite the whole blamed mess for fifteen hundred dollars,
that's what I'm going to do," announced Mr. Howard with both
belligerence and excitement in his voice and in the flash of his sick
little eyes.

"Is it as good--or as bad--as all that--money?" questioned Mr.
Vandeford. "You'll have to show me," he added calmly, though in the
vitals of his heart he was relieved that Howard still spoke of "The
Purple Slipper" as a carcass on which to operate.

"It's got a perfectly ripping, basic, sex-comedy idea that climaxes the
third act; the rest is piffle."

"I thought some of the character drawing, and one or two of the
sentimental bits were--actable," Mr. Vandeford ventured, determined to
save as much of the hair and hide of Miss Adair's child as possible,
enough at least to help her to recognize and claim it later.

"Oh, we can leave enough bits to anchor the author's name, if that is
what you mean," the playwright admitted impatiently. "How about fifteen
hundred? I won't do it for less."

"Goes," answered Mr. Vandeford, with the greatest ease with which he had
ever dispensed five hundred dollars in all his life. "Now shoot me your
layout of the whole thing before Mazie gets here to take you and lock
you up."

"I'm going to take that dinner scene where the wife holds her husband's
enemies and her lover at bay to see if he gets back home on a
sporting-chance bet with lover, and write Hawtry both back and front of
it; write her in as the virago she is and give her a chance to act
herself for once."

"Good idea," admitted Mr. Vandeford. "But you'll have a hard time
writing a gutter girl into a grand dame, won't you?"

"Women are all alike, and the worst viragos are the grand dames. It
takes a gutter girl to play one let loose, as they do only on rare
occasions. I've got 'em in my own family. That's the reason I'm a black
sheep turned out. Got a sister that's worse than me, only respectable
and fashionable. See?"

"Yes, I see," again admitted Mr. Vandeford. "You'll keep all the
atmosphere and minor stabs in, you say?"

"Sure. They are pretty good staggers, some of the minor stuff. Lots of
it is good talk--only wandering. That woman may write something some day
if she breaks loose and goes to the devil for a while."

"She won't," said Mr. Vandeford, positively.

"Never can tell," answered Mr. Howard, with indifference. "What did
Mazie say?"

"She's due here for you now," answered Mr. Vandeford, looking at his
watc