"I'm afraid I'm going on a fool's errand. Confound it! I believe that young rascal has hypnotized me. But, after all, I can't afford to neglect the chance. The treasury is pretty low, and if this scheme doesn't work there may be trouble on salary day. I'll do my best to get this woman to play, and I guess I shall succeed; people used to say that Gus Wattles was the champion jollier, and I don't think he has lost his powers yet."
Al was doing a little soliloquizing, too.
"I didn't think I had so much nerve," he mused. "I'm beginning to have a little more confidence in myself. If to-night's performance is a success I shall get the job sure—he can't refuse me. But if it isn't a success, if Mrs. Anderson refuses to have anything to do with the scheme—I won't let myself think of that."
It was nearly an hour before Mr. Wattles returned.
"Well, sir?" questioned the boy, breathlessly.
"It's all right."
"She will play?"
"Not only that, but she is going to pay me for the chance. Oh, there are no flies on Augustus Wattles, my boy! Yes, she is going to play, and she is delighted because the part will give her a chance to exhibit herself in a new costume which she has just imported from Paris. Now, then, my lad, we must get up the ads. How much time have we before they must be in the newspaper office?"
"An hour at least. And you had better get out some posters announcing Mrs. Anderson's appearance. They can be on the walls in two hours. Will you leave that part to me?"
"Yes; but first you can help me with the advertisement. Undoubtedly you can give me some points."