At the last moment it was discovered that nothing had been provided to simulate, at the beginning of the second scene, the sound of a clock striking twelve, off-stage. The property man could offer nothing better than an iron crowbar and a hammer; the twelve strokes, consequently, resembled nothing in the world other than a wholly untemperamental crowbar banged by a dispassionate hammer. Fortunately, the effect was so thin and dead that it convulsed only the first few rows of the orchestra. The light cues went wrong when they were not altogether ignored; and once, when Joan having indicated in a brief soliloquy her depression on being left alone in the gloomy house, gave the cue "_I must have more light_," at the same time touching a property switch on the wall, every light in the house other than the red "exit" lamps was "blacked out." And at all other times the required changes either anticipated or dragged far behind their cues. The _Thief_ forgot to load his revolver, with the result that Quard fired the only shot in their duel--and then fell dead. This so rattled _David_ that he anticipated his first entrance and rushed on the stage only to back off precipitately while Joan was urging the _Thief_ to go and leave her to shoulder his crime. The only misadventure that failed to attend upon the performance was a traditional one of the stage: the theatre cat by some accident did _not_ walk upon the scene at a climax and seat itself before the footlights to wash its face. Nevertheless the sketch "got over" at the matinée, receiving three curtain calls; and at night--when the little company, conscious of its crimes, pulled itself together and acted with an intensity of effort only equalled by that of its first performance in New York--the house gave the piece a rousing reception. Thereafter they played it well and consistently, with increasing assurance as days passed and use bred the habit in them all. On Thursday Quard heard from Boskerk, and announced that the company would return to New York the following Monday to play a six weeks' engagement in the Percy Williams houses, beginning with a fortnight in Manhattan and winding up in Greenpoint, Long Island. He added that Boskerk was busy arranging a subsequent tour which would take them to the Pacific Coast and back. He did not add that the agent had successfully demanded as much as four hundred and fifty dollars a week for the offering from many of the more prosperous houses on their list; from which figure the price ranged down to as little as three hundred in some of the smaller inland towns. But even at this minimum, Quard had so scaled his salary list, contrary to his representations to Joan, that his gross weekly profit (excluding personal living expenses) would seldom be less than one hundred dollars a week.