"French? Well, I guess not. You don't mind if I smoke, do you? Thanks. Have one yourself--they're imported. No? All right. I suppose it is a beastly habit, but most of the girls I know have picked it up. Seems sociable, somehow. No, I'm not French. My dad's name was Capley, and I annexed this other when I went on the stage. It tickles the Johnnies, and sounds better than Sadie Capley. You liked it yourself." "It is better adapted to that purpose--you are an actress then?" "Well, nobody ever said so. I can dance and sing a bit, and know how to wear clothes. It's an easier job than some others I've had, and gets me into a swell set. Tell me, when were you in New York?" "About a month ago." "Well, didn't you see the Revue?" "The last one? Certainly." "That's where I shone--second girl on the right in the chorus, and I was in the eccentric dance with Joe Steams; some hit--what?" "Yes, I remember now; they called you the Red Fairy--because of your ruby ring. What in the world ever brought you out here?" Celeste laughed, a cloud of smoke curling gracefully above her blonde hair. "Some joke, isn't it? Well, it's no engagement at the Good Luck Dance Hall yonder, you can bet on that. The fact is I've quit the business, and am going to take a flier in mining." "Mining? That sounds like money in these days. They tell me there is no placer-mining any longer, and that it requires a fortune to develop. I wouldn't suppose a chorus girl----" "Oh, pshaw!" and Miss La Rue leaned forward, a bright glow on each cheek. "There are more ways of making money in New York than drawing a salary. Still, that wasn't so bad. I pulled down fifty a week, but of course that was only a drop in the bucket. I don't mind telling you, but all a good-looking girl needs is a chance before the public--there's plenty of rich fools in the world yet. I've caught on to a few things in the last five years. It pays better to be Celeste La Rue than it ever did to be Sadie Capley. Do you get me?" Miss Donovan nodded. Her acquaintance with New York fast life supplied all necessary details, and it was quite evident this girl had no sense of shame. Instead she was rather proud of the success she had achieved. "I imagine you are right," she admitted pleasantly. "So you found a backer? A mining man?" "Not on your life. None of your wild west for me. As soon as some business is straightened out here, it's back to Broadway." "Who is it?" ventured the other cautiously. "Mr. Beaton?" "Ned Beaton!" Miss La Rue's voice rose to a shriek. "Oh, Lord! I should say not! Why that fellow never had fifty dollars of his own at one time in his life. You know Beaton, don't you?" "Well, hardly that. We have conversed at the table down-stairs." "I suppose any sort of a man in a decent suit of clothes looks good enough to talk to out here. But don't let Beaton fool you. He's only a tin-horn sport." "Then it is the other?"