Ned began to think it a fine thing too. He had all the afflatus of public amusement. To be one of a great joyful crowd seemed to him to multiply the pleasure by the multitude. His step grew light. He heard the light steps behind him. Everybody was going, and he was going too.
The theatre was well filled before they came in sight of the massive building. In front of it on the sidewalk was a gilded standard supporting a pyramid of gas-jets. A circle of boys sat beneath this with fans to sell, for the May weather was growing warm and the palm-leaf industry was looking up. The boys had besieged the crowd as it was entering the theatre, and now they waited to waylay the belated pleasure-seeker. At a distance the pyramid, with the circle of fluttering palm leaves beneath it, looked like some strange, gigantic, many-petaled flower.
Pete stopped short at the sight.
"Bust them fellers! We mustn't let on ter them."
"Naw, sir! Naw, sir!" exclaimed Ned, with emphasis.
Both turned at once from the broad avenue, scuttled hastily down a side street, then plunged into the mysterious darkness of an alley. In a moment they were under the back window of the theatre.
A mellow dim light from within showed that the sash was lifted. The tremulous wail of a violin drifted out to them. The orchestra had begun to tune their instruments. There was no time to lose. Ned turned hurriedly to Pete.
"Up with ye,—I'll boost."
To his surprise Pete drew back. His face was concealed by the darkness, and his hoarse voice was sunk to a husky mutter.
"Hey? wha' say?" demanded Ned.