As he had promised, Brainard attended to the business affairs of Melody’s estate. The lawyers easily obtained a stay of proceedings and a retrial. With the proof of Krutzmacht’s real marriage to the mother of the young actress, the case dropped like a cracked egg, before it got to court. Hollinger and the counsel, who had been “staking” Miss Walters in her attempt, foresaw dangerous consequences and withdrew precipitately from the case. After the smoke had cleared away, Brainard did not forget the plea that Hollinger had made in behalf of Krutzmacht’s former stenographer. He resolved to use whatever influence he might have with the new heiress to secure for Lorilla Walters a modest crumb from the rich cake she had fought for that would make her independent for life and allow her to withdraw permanently from the stage. The last that Brainard heard of the versatile fight-trust magnate he was employed in the capacity of financial adviser to a Chinese prince, who had conceived the idea of developing a railroad in his province with the aid of Western capital. Hollinger, whose headquarters were generally in London, achieved a signal success in this kind of financial diplomacy for which his temperament and his morals both fitted him. After the suit had been disposed of, Brainard amused himself by preparing an elaborate report of his trusteeship of the estate, in which everything was accounted for, to the original items he had spent on his first journey. He also put his own affairs in order, in preparation for that day at the close of the theatrical season when the young actress would deign to give her attention to business matters. She was too busy at present. For the improbable had really happened. _Her Great Adventure_ proved to be the one undoubted theatrical success of the past four seasons. That intelligent first-night audience had gone home and told its friends that they must not miss the new play at the queer theater in West Twelfth Street. They, in turn, had promptly told their friends, and the news had quickly become contagious. Instead of a two weeks’ run the house sold out until the end of June, and a road company was already being prepared to satisfy the curiosity of the provinces. Incredible fact! The People’s Theater was making money, even with its low scale of prices. At the close of the fourth week, when the new manager came to see Brainard in regard to the next season, Brainard smiled at him in amusement. “I’m out of the theater business, Leaventritt. The place isn’t mine any longer.” “I saw that you had won your suit.” “Yes, but the theater isn’t mine.” “Sold out?” the manager asked, a disgusted look on his eager face. “Not that, but I’m out of it, just the same. You’ll have to see Miss White about another season. Perhaps she can help you out.”