Just then another individual approached the stage manager and inquired for Mr. Fogg. He introduced himself as Mr. Draper, the costumer, and he was anxious to see the star of the evening, to "put up," as he expressed himself, for the costumes before the curtain went up. At this stage of the proceedings Fogg, now fully dressed for the gardener's son, appeared. He was immediately buttonholed by the costumer for the amount of his bill. "After the performance, when we count up, my dear Mr. Draper," pleaded Fogg, in his most insinuating way. "After nothing. Now, now!" emphatically declared Draper. "What do you take me for? I'm no sardine. You pay now, or by chowder! you can play 'The Lady of Lyons' in your shirt tails! You promised me the stuff in the afternoon." The audience by this time had become restless and somewhat demonstrative. To add to the complications, Professor Funkenstein reappeared in a most excited frame of mind. He had been to the box office, but the bill-poster had anticipated him, and had threatened to clean out the ranch if he didn't get his money. The treasurer, who was an amateur, settled immediately with the knight of the pastepot to save the house from destruction. After the box office man had settled with the bill-poster there was only $5.25 in the drawer. That was at once secured by the florist in part payment on account of flowers that were to be presented to _Pauline_. The florist had been given the tip by the bill-sticker, and he got the balance of the cash on hand by also threatening to inaugurate the cleaning-out process. The uproar in the front of the house increased. The stamping of feet, the beating of canes on the floor, and the catcalls in the gallery made terrific disturbance. "You're a sweendler, Meister Vogue!" exclaimed the excited orchestra leader. "I'll make it all right with you in the morning, sir," replied Fogg indignantly, "and I wouldn't have your contemptible Dutch band to play for me now under any circumstances. Please call the people for the first act, Mr. Handy. I'll show you. We'll play the piece without your music." "And you'll play it without costumes, too," interposed Mr. Draper, "unless I get my money." "An' begor, yez'll play it wid only sky borders and wings, iv I'm goin' to get left," yelled the stage carpenter. "Murphy, run off thim flats."