Hamersley gave his order, and by the time it arrived Lawrence had broached the subject of the theater party.
"Suits me fine," the big chap returned. "Better get seats for 'The Blue Moon,' if you can. First night, you know, and that's always more fun."
"I'll phone for seats as soon as I get back to the hotel," Barry agreed. "Suppose I ask Reggie Minturn and that chap he had with him? That makes a good number."
"Good!", chuckled Hamersley. "Reckon Reg has sobered up by now. He was pie-eyed last night, though. See him?"
Barry nodded with twinkling eyes. He was wondering what Reggie's thoughts had been on discovering the five-hundred-dollar bill in his waistcoat pocket.
"Yes, I ran across them," he returned. "They'd had about all they could hold, sure enough. Well, I'll try and rope them in. I'll have a car meet me at the Waldorf at a quarter to eight. That'll give me time to pick you fellows up. Show doesn't begin till eight-fifteen, I suppose?"
"Nearer eight-thirty," Jock corrected, setting down his empty glass, and tapping the bell.
Lawrence declined further refreshment, however, and they presently arose and made for the door.
It would have been rather interesting for Barry to observe the behavior of the nervous broker after their departure. Their backs were no sooner turned than the financial page seemed to lose all interest for him. He leaned forward a bit, and peered after their retreating figures. Then, as they passed through the turnstile door, he sprang to his feet and hastened after them into the street.
CHAPTER XXII.