On the stage the leading man (who was an honest gentleman farmer, showing the gentleman by wearing patent boots, and the farmer by carrying a hunting crop), cried aloud demanding of misfortune whether she had finished her fell conspiracy against him, and this, it appeared, was the cue for Lawrence Railton in his white whiskers and frock-coated suit and a brown hand-bag to go on with the announcement that he had come to foreclose a mortgage, information which the house, knowing vaguely that it boded no good to the hero, received with groans and hisses. Erb, watching from the side, prepared for an exhibition of superior acting on the part of Mr. Railton, and was somewhat astonished to find that, instead of playing a part that forwarded the action of the piece, he was a mere butt sent on in order to be kicked off, treatment served out to him by an honest labourer, faithful to his master and with considerable humour in his disposition. Any expectations that Railton would take a more serious part in the melodrama were set aside, in a later scene of Act I., when the hero and the faithful young labourer had both enlisted in a crack cavalry regiment, he came on with his brown bag to find them and give information of importance, and was at once, to the great joy of the pit and gallery, again kicked off, whilst the regiment, consisting of eight men and a girl officer, marched round the stage several times to a military air, and, after the girl officer had delivered a few sentences of admirable patriotism, went off to the Royal Albert Docks to take ship for South Africa. Indeed, throughout the piece it was Mr. Railton’s privilege to follow the leading man and his low comedy friend, and whether he encountered them on the quay at Cape Town, out on the veldt near Modder River, or at the Rhodes Club at Kimberley, he was ever hailed by the entire theatre with joyous cries of “Kick him, kick him!” advice upon which the low comedy man always acted. “D’you like your job?” asked Erb at the end of Act II., as he prepared to go round to the front and collect the men of his committee. “Someone must hold the piece together,” said young Railton, wearily making a cigarette. “Take me away, and the entire show falls to pieces. Even you must have noticed that.” “Upon my word,” said Erb, looking at him wonderingly, “you are a perfect marvel. I never saw anything like you.” “Thanks, old chap,” replied the other gratefully, and shaking his hand. “Meet me after the show and we’ll have a drink together. I was afraid at first you were a bit of a bounder. Don’t mind me saying so now, do you?” “Not at all,” replied Erb. “You gave me much the same impression.” “That’s most extr’ordinary. There’s an idea for a curtain-raiser in that. Two men beginning by hating each other, and later on—” “Any message for your young lady?” “Which?” asked Mr. Railton. “You know very well who I mean,” said Erb with some annoyance.