“The top of the morning to you, Richard!” he cried from the stage. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Come up and hear the news.” Vaulting over the orchestra space, the Yale man leaped lightly to the stage, and joined his friend. Demarest narrated with gusto his success in placing the lithographs, and then went on to tell about the interview with Bryton. “It was a bitter pill for him to swallow,” he concluded. “He looked as if he could have knifed me with all the pleasure in the world. He’s always hated me like poison, you know, ever since I came to Buffer and Lane.” “What’s he got against you?” Merriwell asked curiously. “Search me,” Demarest returned. “The only reason I can think of is that I played opposite to Marion Gray all last season. He’s stuck on her, you know, and I suppose he got jealous seeing me make love to her every night, and twice on Saturday. They said he nearly went off his head when she refused to sign with them this season, but came to me instead. Marion’s a jolly good sort, and one of the best leading women in the country. I was mighty lucky to get her. She’ll be here with all the rest of the company this afternoon.” Dick was about to inquire further about Bryton, when the drays appeared at the stage entrance with the scenery, which had, up to this time, been left in the cars on a siding. “I couldn’t rest till I got them safely here,” the actor explained, as he hurried over to direct the unloading. “It would be just like Bryton to hire somebody to slash them up, and ruin them. He’d do anything to prevent this performance, but I think we have him in a hole. I’ve got the stuff here before he’s had time to think.” The arrival of the sets added considerably to the general confusion, but nothing could daunt Demarest. In spite of the fact that he had had practically no sleep the night before, he was in the highest of spirits over his success, for which he gave Merriwell every credit, and all afternoon he did not stir from the theatre, with the result that a tremendous amount of work was done before the workmen left the place. The young actor was confident that another two days would see a remarkable transformation in the dingy edifice. On account of football practice, Dick could not be with him after three o’clock, but he stopped at the theatre on his way back from the field, and found Demarest on the point of leaving. “Jump in, and I’ll take you back to the hotel,” he said, without leaving his seat at the wheel of his car. “How have things gone?” “Splendidly!” Demarest exclaimed enthusiastically, as he stepped into the tonneau. “Another two days will see everything in first-class shape. The men have caught on to what I want, and are going at it with a will, for they understand the need for haste. I shan’t have to spend so much of my time looking after them to-morrow.” “Company come yet?” Dick inquired.