The other shook his head, bending down so as to read the name with his

own eyes. There was nothing in the least familiar about the sound of

it, and he became faintly conscious of an undefined feeling of

disappointment. Still, if she was upon the stage, the name quite

probably was an assumed one; the very utterance of it left that

impression. He walked over toward the cigar stand and picked out a

weed, thinking gravely while he held a flaming match to the tip.

Somehow he was not altogether greatly pleased with this information; he

should have preferred to discover her to be some one else. He glanced

at the clerk through the slight haze of blue smoke, his increasing

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curiosity finding reluctant utterance.

"What troupe is it?" he questioned with seeming carelessness.

"'Heart of the World,'" answered Tom with some considerable increase of

enthusiasm. "A dandy play, and a blamed good company, they tell me.

Got some fine press notices anyhow, an' a carload o' scenery. Played

in Denver a whole month; and it costs a dollar and a half to buy a

decent seat even in this measly town, so you can bet it ain't no slouch

of a show. House two-thirds sold out in advance, but I know where I

can get you some good seats for just a little extra. Lane is the star.

You 've heard of Lane, have n't you? Funniest fellow you ever saw;

makes you laugh just to look at him. And this--this Miss Norvell, why

she's the leadin' lady, and the travellin' men tell me she's simply

immense. There's one of their show bills hanging over there back of

the stove."

Winston sauntered across to the indicated red and yellow abomination,

and dumbly stood staring at it through the blue rings of his cigar. It

represented a most thrilling stage picture, while underneath, and in

type scarcely a shade less pronounced than that devoted to the eminent

comedian T. Macready Lane, appeared the announcement of the great

emotional actress, Miss Beth Norvell, together with several quite

flattering Western press notices. The young man read these slowly,

wondering why they should particularly interest him, and on a sudden

his rather grave face brightened into a smile, a whimsical thought

flashing into his mind.

"By Jove, why not?" he muttered, as if arguing the matter out with

himself. "The report has gone East, and there is nothing more to be

accomplished in Flat Rock for at least a month. This snow will have to

melt away before they can hope to put any miners to work, and in the

meanwhile I might just as well be laying up experiences on the road as

wasting my substance in riotous living at Denver. It ought to prove a

great lark, and I 've always had ambition to have a try at something of

the kind. Well, here 's my chance; and besides, I can't help believing

that that girl might prove interesting; her face is, anyhow."




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