Scarcely hearing the last words, the manager rushed from the room.
"Well," mused Al, "if Mr. Wattles is a man of his word I am his advance agent now. It will be my fault if I don't make the best of the opportunity. But it's dollars to doughnuts that I shall have trouble with that loafer, Farley. Well, I guess I can hold my own."
He was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Mr. Wattles.
"It's all right, my boy," laughed the manager.
"You haven't seen her yet?"
"No, but I've seen Perley, and he tells me she is here, and is dressing for the part. He thinks that she is going to make a big hit."
"Of course she will," laughed Al; "she is the leader of society here, and it would be treason not to like her."
The manager smiled.
"You know something of the world," he said.
"Not as much as I would like to. But, seriously, sir, Mrs. Anderson is not such a bad actress, and I shouldn't wonder if she did make a hit."