“Dat’s what we will!” shouted the others.
Frank looked up, smiled and bowed. That smile was enough to set his admirers wild. They howled, roared, clapped and stamped till the gallery shook and threatened to come down.
“Great gosh!” cried Ephraim Gallup, in Merry’s ear; “I ruther think yeou’ve got a few friends in this ’air taown!”
One of the policemen was examining the wound on the head of the unconscious actor. He spoke to a companion:
“Call an ambulance,” he said. “It looks to me as if this chap’s skull may be cracked. He may never recover consciousness.”
“Is it possible?” gasped Barnaby Haley, who had heard the words. “And Storms did it? I declare!”
He turned and glared at the drunken actor.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked. “Are you mad?”
Storms did not reply, but now he began to show symptoms of fear.
“If Havener is dead, I’ll see that you hang for it!” declared the manager.