He turned mechanically and went back to his room. Dropping down in a chair, he spread the telegram out on his knee, and read it aloud. “Arrested here on absurd charge. Cannot be tried until to-morrow. Put-up job to hold me, and ruin performance. You must take my part, and save play. Otherwise I shall be ruined. _Jarvis_ is really you. If you can only learn the lines it will be all right. Business will take care of itself. Do this as you love me, Richard, and I shall be your debtor forever. Don’t tell a soul where I am. I can’t afford to have my name smirched, even by false charge. AUSTIN.” For a moment or two Dick sat looking at the paper blankly. Then he suddenly crumpled it into a ball, and thrust it into his pocket. At least, that was what he meant to do, but, instead of going into the pocket, it slipped through the slit in his overcoat, and lodged in the chair seat, close against one of the arms. The next moment Merriwell had sprung to his feet, and was striding back and forth across the room. The prospect which had at first appalled him was gradually becoming more reasonable, more possible, as he recovered from the suddenness of the shock, and swiftly regained his poise and self-control. He had a remarkably retentive memory, and felt that if he put his mind to it, excluding every other thing, he might be able to get the part before night, or possibly even in time for a hasty dress rehearsal that afternoon. As for doing anything more than that, he would have to trust to luck. He had no idea what Demarest’s conception was of the character of _Lance Jarvis_. All he could do would be to forget that he was acting, and simply be himself. It was the only way by which the young actor’s reputation could be saved, and his success assured; for, if the performance did not come off on Thursday, Dick had a feeling that Ralph Bryton would see that it was indefinitely postponed. He had seen enough of the man’s methods not to realize that no stone would be left unturned to thwart Demarest. Presently he yanked off his overcoat, and tossed it on a chair. “I’ll do it!” he muttered. “I’ve got to do it! There’s no other way out!” Then, springing to the telephone, he called up the New Haven House, and asked for Miss Gray. In a moment he heard her voice at the other end of the wire. “This is Mr. Merriwell, Miss Gray,” he said quickly. “I’ve heard from Austin. He’s unavoidably detained, and cannot get here before two o’clock. Can the dress rehearsal be postponed until then, do you think?” She gave a gasp of relief, which was almost a sob. “Yes, of course,” she said swiftly. “That will give us time enough to get through before the evening performance. Oh, I’m so glad everything is right with him! I was so afraid something had happened. You know, Bryton would stop at nothing to prevent this opening.”