"Why don't you try the stage, as I am going to do." "I don't believe I can act." "No one knows what is in him until he tries. Didn't you ever recite?" "In school, yes. But I don't think I ever made a hit, as actors call it." "If you managed to get in with Jack Dixon I might be able to coach you in your part," said Livingston Palmer loftily. "Have you had a part assigned to you yet?" asked Robert curiously. "Yes. We are to play two plays, 'The Homeless Sister,' and 'All for Love.' In 'The Homeless Sister' I am to take the part of a heartless landlord, and in 'All for Love' I am a butler in a Fifth Avenue mansion in New York." "Are they leading parts?" "Well--er--hardly. Dixon says he can't put me in leading parts yet, for it would make the older actors jealous." "I see." "He says he will shove me ahead as soon as I've made a hit." "Then I trust you make a hit on the opening night." "Oh, I certainly shall. I have my lines down fine, and Dixon says my make-up is just what it ought to be." "Aren't you afraid of being nervous?" "Nervous? Not a bit. Did you ever see me nervous, Frost?" "No--excepting----" Robert was going to mention the time when the adorable Alameda's husband had called at the ticket office, but cut himself short. "Excepting when?" "It's of no consequence, Palmer." "But I demand to know when I was ever nervous," insisted the would-be actor. "Well, you were rather put out when the husband of that variety actress called upon you." "Oh! Well--er--I'll admit it. But that was an unusual case, wasn't it?" "I presume so. Does she know you are going on the stage?" "Yes; I took particular pains to let her hear of it, through one of the ladies of our combination." "And did you hear what she said?" "The lady says she laughed and said I would ruin Dixon. But I'll show her that she is mistaken," added Livingston Palmer, drawing himself up to his full height and inflating his chest. "Robert, I am a born actor--I feel it in my bones." "Do your bones ache?" "You know what I mean. Shall I give you a sample of what I am to do?" "If you get through by the time the supper bell rings. My walk has made me tremendously hungry." "The part of the landlord is not a long one--in fact it contains but six speeches each about thirty words in length. At first I come into the parlor where the guests have arrived. I make a low bow and turn to the gentleman and say: 'What, it is my father's friend, Roger Brockbury, as I live! Thrice welcome to the Lion Inn, sir. And what is the matter with the lady, sir?'" As Palmer began to recite he strutted around in grand style, ending by elevating his eyebrows, clenching his fists and throwing his head so far back that he nearly lost his balance. "Is that what you have to say?" questioned Robert, who could scarcely keep from laughing outright. "Yes. How do you like it?" "You'll certainly make them take notice of you?"