Leslie Lawrence, the actor who was ill, had been cast for the leading character of the play, a part Dunton had coveted.
“You, Merriwell,” said the stage-manager, “must play the part given to Lawrence. The local stage-manager will have to serve as prompter to-night, and every member of the company must, so far as possible, look after the properties required by him or her. We must get through with this piece somehow, even if you have to read Lawrence’s part.”
Dunton stepped forward.
“It strikes me, Havener,” he said, in his forward way, “that you can make a better arrangement.”
Ross Havener turned and scowled at the speaker, for he was a man who did not fancy receiving suggestions from anyone.
“What?” he said, sharply, like a pistol shot.
Dunton repeated his words in a bold manner.
“What do you mean?” asked the stage-manager.
“It strikes me that it is a mistake to put Merriwell, a raw amateur, onto such a part,” said Dunton, swiftly. “He cannot memorize the lines in such a short time, and he is bound to make an awful mess of the whole play if he tries it.”
Frank said not a word, but his eyes looked the speaker straight through.