“At my humble lodgings,” was the answer.
“A man by your name registered at the hotel where I stop, and had the room next to mine. Is it possible there are two William Shakespeare Burns in the city of Denver?”
The old man drew himself up, thrusting his hand into the bosom of his coat, with his familiar movement of dignity.
“There is but one,” he said—“but one real William Shakespeare Burns in the whole world! I am he!”
“But you were not at the hotel last night?”
“Of a certainty I was not. To that I will pledge mine honor. If another was there under my name, he is an impostor.”
Frank was satisfied, but Bart was not; or, if Hodge was satisfied, he would not confess it.
The rehearsal began. Frank had engaged some people to work the mechanical arrangement used in the third act, and they had been drilled and instructed by Havener.
The first act went off well, the storm at the conclusion being worked up in first-class style. Scarcely a word of that act had Frank altered, so there was very little trouble over it.
The second act was likewise a success, Havener finding it necessary to interrupt and give instructions but twice.