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."