When the second laugh died, Bill Breakstone rubbed his hands together.
"I see that I've fallen upon a merry crowd," he said, "and it is well. The spirit of youth is always delightful, and it leads to the doing of great things."
"You talk like an actor," said Dick Grayson, not as a criticism, but in tones of admiration.
"I talk like an actor," replied Bill Breakstone with majesty, "because I am one."
"You don't say so! You don't mean it!" exclaimed a dozen voices at once.
"I am, or, rather, was," replied Bill with dignity, "although I will admit that I am now engaged in other pursuits."
Most of them still looked at him doubtfully, and Bill, his honor at stake, became the subject of a sudden inspiration.
"I see that some of you suspect my veracity, which is natural under the circumstances," he said. "Now, I said I was an actor, and I'll prove that I'm an actor by acting."
"You don't mean it!" they cried again.
"I will," said Bill Breakstone firmly. "Moreover, I will act from a play by the greatest of all writers. Throw the wood together there and let the blaze spring up. I want you to see me."