with appeals, with commands to "speak up."

The hand-clapping became general-insistent. The audience would not
be denied. Carter turned to Dolly. In the recesses of the box she
was enjoying his predicament. His friends also were laughing at
him. Indignant at their desertion, Carter grinned vindictively.
"All right," he muttered over his shoulder. "Since you think it's
funny, I'll show you !" He pulled his pencil from his watch-chain
and, spreading his programme on the ledge of the box, began to
write.

From the audience there rose a murmur of incredulity, of surprise,
of excited interest. In the rear of the house the press agent,
after one startled look, doubled up in an ecstasy of joy. "We've
landed him !" he gasped. "We've landed him He's going to fall for
it!"

Dolly frantically clasped her husband by the coat-tail.

"Champ!" she implored, "what are you doing?"

Quite calmly , quite confidently, Carter rose. Leaning forward with
a nod and a smile, he presented the programme to the beautiful Miss
Winter. That lady all but snatched at it. The spot-light was full
in her eyes. Turning her back that she might the more easily read,
she stood for a moment, her pretty figure trembling with eagerness,
her pretty eyes bent upon the programme. The house had grown
suddenly still, and with an excited gesture, the leader of the
orchestra commanded the music to silence A man, bursting with
impatience, broke the tense quiet. "Read it!" he shouted.