up feelings and a determination which the occasion did not warrant.
Drouet dropped in at the lodge when he went down town, and swashed around with a great air, as Quincel met him.
"Where is that young lady you were going to get for us?" asked the latter.
"I've got her," said Drouet.
"Have you?" said Quincel, rather surprised by his promptness; "that's good. What's her address?" and he pulled out his note-book in order to be able to send her part to her.
"You want to send her her part?" asked the drummer.
"Yes."
"Well, I'll take it. I'm going right by her house in the morning."
"What did you say her address was? We only want it in case we have any information to send her."
"Twenty-nine Ogden Place."
"And her name?"
"Carrie Madenda," said the drummer, firing at random. The lodge members knew him to be single.
"That sounds like somebody that can act, doesn't it?" said Quincel.
"Yes, it does."
He took the part home to Carrie and handed it to her with the manner of one who does a favour.
"He says that's the best part. Do you think you can do it?"
"I don't know until I look it over. You know I'm afraid, now that I've said I would."
"Oh, go on. What have you got to be afraid of? It's a cheap company. The rest of them aren't as good as you are."
