Green Fancy

"Well, that's a fair sort of start," said Barnes, who was brushing his hair. "What did he say to that?"

"I don't know. I had to close the door rather hastily. If he said anything at all it was after the chair hit the door. Ahem! That was last night. He is as nice as pie this afternoon, so I have an idea that he busted the chair and doesn't want old Jones to find out about it."

"I will say a good word for you," said Barnes, grinning.

He found Mr. Rushcroft in a greatly perturbed state of mind.

"I've had telegrams from the three people I mentioned to you, Barnes, and the damned ingrates refuse to join us unless they get their railroad fares to Crowndale. Moreover, they had the insolence to send the telegrams collect. The more you do for the confounded bums, the more they ask. I once had a leading woman who--"

Barnes was in no humour to listen to the long-winded reminiscences of the "star," so he cut him short at once. He ascertained that the "ingrates" were in New York, on their "uppers," and that they could not accomplish the trip to Crowndale unless railroad tickets were provided. The difficulty was bridged in short order by telegrams requesting the distant players to apply the next day at his office in New York where tickets to Crowndale would be given them. He telegraphed his office to buy the tickets and hold them for Miss Milkens, Mr. Hatcher and Mr. Fling.

"That completes one of the finest companies, Mr. Barnes, that ever took the road," said Mr. Rushcroft warmly, forgetting his animosity. "You will never be associated with a more evenly balanced company of players, sir. I congratulate you upon your wonderful good fortune in having such a cast for 'The Duke's Revenge.' If you can maintain a similar standard of excellence in all of your future productions, you will go down in history as the most astute theatrical manager of the day."

Barnes winced, but was game. "When do you start rehearsals, Rushcroft?"

"It is my plan to go to Crowndale to-morrow or the next day, where I shall meet my company. Rehearsals will undoubtedly start at once. That would give us--let me see--Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday--four days. We open on Tuesday night. Oh, by the way, I have engaged a young woman of most unusual talent to take the minor part of Hortense. You may have noticed her in the dining-room. Miss Rosamond--er--where did I put that card?--ah, yes, Miss Floribel Blivens. The poor idiot insists on Blivens, desiring to perpetuate the family monicker. I have gotten rid of her spectacles, however, and the name that the prehistoric Blivenses gave her at the christening."