"Thanks," Horatio said gratefully. He smiled faintly at Alice. "Pleased to have met you," he said. Then he vanished into the brown background of the chair.
"Get me a drink!" Mystiffio said. He grasped the edge of the desk and stared solemnly at the empty brown chair. "Get me two drinks."
"What is it?" Alice demanded. "How do you do it? Mirrors? Lighting? It's terrific."
"It's completely on the level. Now here's the angle. I'm going to put this guy into your act. Wait'll the crowds get a load of Mystiffio's magic then. With Horatio in the background pulling the strings he'll make Thurston look like an amateur parlor entertainer."
Mystiffio turned to me stiffly.
"What," he said frigidly, "makes you think I need an invisible man to help me in my act? I am perfectly capable of astounding and amazing an audience by myself."
"You're quoting your own press notices now," I said. "I know; I wrote 'em."
"And what makes you think I'm not as good as Thurston?" Mystiffio asked in an injured voice.
"Ah, temperament!" I murmured. I turned to Alice. "You work on him. You can see that Horatio will be a good thing, can't you? You don't want your act to die, do you?"
"Mr. Flannigan." It was Horatio. His voice sounded apologetic. "I don't want to disturb you, but what has all this got to do with getting me into the army? You sound more like a booking agent than the Soldier's Friend."