haven't rushed in a manuscript like this since 'Dear Geraldine,'
have we, Pops?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as he picked up the second act.
"It's just nine o'clock, and those girls ought to get through by three
A. M. Don't let Steinberg charge up twelve hours on you."

"It will be at eight that they are still working, Mr. Vandeford, sir,
and night type-writing means much money," Mr. Meyers answered, as he
departed with his package.

"At that we'd better get busy to feed it to 'em," Mr. Vandeford said, as
he picked up and began to dig into the pages.

For the three hours ensuing he and his henchman worked with never a
hitch in their growls and scratches and muttered exchanges. Then, as
they came close to the climax of the last act, Mr. Vandeford sat up from
his pillows, which were heated almost beyond endurance with his night
lights and his tousled head, and gave forth a roar.

"I'll be hanged if I'll let that scene between Rosalind and her lover go
with that filthy twist that Howard has given it! The words are almost
the original, but what will Hawtry make of what he's put into it?"

"It will be the worst she makes," answered Mr. Meyers. "But it is for
pep very good, Mr. Vandeford, sir, and can be tried out."

"That's right, Pops. I wonder if I am a Broadway producer or--or the
czar of a young ladies' seminary," Mr. Vandeford growled as he lay down,
and again went to work.

"It is that Miss Adair will not understand it until Miss Hawtry is at
work, and before that all may be dead," Mr. Meyers consoled, as he, too,
fell upon "The Purple Slipper."

At two-thirty the now soggy A. D. T. received the last manila envelope
to deliver to the busy girls down in Mr. Vandeford's office, and that
distinguished producer was stretched out on his bed in cool darkness
while Mr. Meyers was in a subway nodding his way up to his humble room
on One Hundred and Sixteenth Street.

"If I live through seeing her past the reading of the blamed thing
to-morrow, I'll be stronger than I think I am," Mr. Vandeford murmured
as he felt the calmness of sleep fall upon him.

CHAPTER VI

Rehearsals for "The Purple Slipper" had been called positively for
September first, and the response became unanimous at about fifteen
minutes to eleven at the Barrett Theater on West Forty-sixth Street;
that is, it was unanimous except for the presence of the author and the
angel--Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday--and Miss Violet Hawtry, the star,
who never