Young Appleton, chaffing with the persons whom he had met at the exit, was sharing in the general movement from the byways of the lobby to the middle entrance of the parquet. The electric bell in the vestibule had sounded the signal that the third act was to begin. Mr. Hinrichs had returned to the director's stand in the orchestra and was raising his baton.
Arrived at the middle entrance, Appleton raised his hat to those with whom he had been talking, as if not intending to go in just then.
Mr. Hinrichs's baton tapped upon the stand, the music began, and the curtain rose.
“Why doesn't he go in?” whispered Amy, alluding to Appleton.
But the young man yawned, looked at his watch, and departed from the lobby—not to the auditorium, but out to the vestibule.
“He's going to leave the theatre,” said Miss Winnett, excitedly. “We must follow.”
And she tripped hastily down the stairs, Haslam after her.
II
A Triangular Chase
Tom Appleton sauntered out through the great vestibule, turning his eyes casually from the marble floor up to the balconies that look down from aloft upon this outer lobby. He was whistling an air from “Apollo” which he had heard a few weeks before at the New York Casino.