Lillian Bird, the leading lady of the company, a woman with a fine figure and a washed-out complexion, held out her hand toward Lawrence.
"Don't be so mean," she said. "You might blow off once in a while when you are wealthy."
He grinned and passed her the cigarettes. She took one and lighted it. Sitting on the top of the little table, which was pushed back against the wall, she puffed away at the cigarette in a manner that plainly indicated she did not fancy she was doing anything to attract particular attention or comment. She handled the cigarette in a familiar manner, inhaling the smoke, and the yellow stains on the fingers of her right hand completed the public confession of her habit.
"What sort of an arrangement are you expecting to make?" asked Havener of Merriwell.
"Well," said Frank, "if I put my money behind the company, I shall expect to manage it."
Lawrence whistled softly.
"You'll be taking considerable on your shoulders," said Havener.
"That is all right. I shall make contracts with everybody and stand by them as far as possible. The favors will not come entirely from me."
"Eh? What's that?" grunted Dunton, showing surprise. "Has he invented some kind of a game?"
"What'll he make out of it, if he has?" asked Lawrence, derisively. "There's no money in us. We'd better agree to anything he may propose."