“I shall do my best to-night—at any cost,” she told Frank.
At that moment he did not pause to consider the real meaning of her words. Afterward he knew what she meant. She still carried a tiny needle syringe and a phial that contained a certain dangerous drug that had so nearly wrought her ruin.
The various members of the company drifted into the theater by the stage entrance, looked over their dressing rooms and the stage and drifted out again. They had been engaged to act, and they did not propose to work when it was not necessary.
Gallup whistled as he hustled about the work Havener directed him to do. He made his long legs carry him about swiftly, although he sometimes tripped over his own feet.
Ephraim was arranging a mass of scenery so that every piece would be handy for use that night when the time came to use it. While doing this, he was surprised to see one of the dressing-room doors cautiously open and a person peer out.
“Gosh!” exclaimed the Vermonter, stepping back out of sight. “Who’s that?”
Again the person peered out of the dressing room, as if to make sure the coast was clear.
“I must be dreamin’!” thought the Vermont youth, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve got ’em jest from hearin’ Frank and Hodge talk so much about her.”
A moment later he changed his mind.
“No, by ginger!” he hissed, as the person slipped out of the dressing room. “It’s her!”