Thomason found a box of blacking in Baron’s room. She dipped her finger into it and drew a series of sinister lines across Jack’s unlined face. Clifton proffered a criticism. “You’re putting on too much. He’s to be a sailor--not a pirate.” “No, only a sailor. But he ought to look a little frightful.” She stood back in admiration of her work. Thomason had begun more clearly to understand. “Put some on me,” he invited. Clifton, in the meantime, had found a golf cap which had been handed down from Baron to Thomason. It did not make a thoroughly realistic captain of him, but it was the best he could do. He was trying to recall some of the telling phrases in “The Captain’s Daughter.” He could improvise, if necessary. He looked on seriously while Bonnie May put the finishing touches on Thomason’s face. It was then that Mrs. Harrod appeared. “Oh! I’m sure I’m intruding!” she cried. She looked with profound amazement at every face in the room. “You’re not intruding at all!” declared Bonnie May. “It’s to be a play, you know. You can be the audience, if you will.” Mrs. Harrod began to laugh almost helplessly. Then she checked herself, because she perceived that Bonnie May was deeply in earnest. “Of course!” she responded. “I make a very good audience. I’ll be delighted to help.” She took a chair and became, immediately, a highly inspiring audience. Still, she was amazed. She had never been told by any of the Barons that Bonnie May had formerly been “of the profession.” “We’ll do only the third act,” decided Bonnie May, addressing the two actors, “where the ship sinks, and the raft is seen at sea.” She ended by glancing at Mrs. Harrod, who nodded as if she really preferred to witness only the third act. “We’ll need a raft, of course,” she said. She glanced about the room. The trunk was not large enough to hold two and contribute to a realistic effect. “It will have to be the bed,” she decided. “Thomason, you and Jack will sit on the bed. And you’ll have to remember that you’re on a raft in a storm. The storm is so severe that you nearly fall off the raft.” “Is it?” asked Thomason. He seemed incredulous. “It will be. Jack will let you know when. You look at him once in a while and do just as he does.” There was an explosion of shrill laughter in the adjoining room, and then the McKelvey girls appeared. They seemed quite startled and ready to run, even after they saw Mrs. Harrod. But Mrs. Harrod reassured them. “Come right in,” she called cordially. “It’s to be a play, and as yet we have a miserably small audience.” They drifted a little farther into the room, wide-eyed. It was here that Clifton rebelled. “Oh, look here,” he protested, “it will look so silly!” “Just because we have an audience!” retorted Bonnie May blankly. Then, with feeling: “If you’ve got used to playing to empty seats, it will do you good to have somebody looking at you. Now, do be sensible.”