"I'm sorry, sir, but it's against—" then changed it to a wondering: "Bless my soul, Mr. Ralston! Is it you?" as he encountered the set face of our friend.
"Why, Vincent," exclaimed the latter, "you still here? What luck! You don't look a day older!"
"I can't say the same for you, sir. I understand congratulations are in order. Oh, I read the papers. But—" he hesitated.
"But you think I'm rather old for 'Johnnying'?" interpolated Ralston. "You're quite right. I am. But don't be alarmed; this is business. I want to find a young woman named Ernestine Hudson. I must see her at once. Can you fix it for me?"
"I think so," answered the guardian of the wings. "I'd do it if I lost my job. I won't forget in a hurry what you did for my little Bill. Just step——"
At that instant the door was thrust violently open and a gray-coated messenger boy, carrying a large oblong box, projected himself violently against Vincent.
"For Hudson!" he ejaculated shortly.
"Put 'em on that desk," directed Vincent.
"Say, boss, let me take 'em in," pleaded the boy.
"Who do you think you are, anyway?" inquired the doorkeeper. "Get out of here."