“When I told Jennie about it she wondered if you'd be going anywhere near Lizzie's place.” “I can, easily enough.” “Jennie, you see, has been sort of looking for some word from her this week, and there ain't none come yet, and would you mind taking along a little bundle for Lizzie, and maybe a note?” “Not a bit. You'll have them here before supper time, won't you?” “Yes; surely.” And so it fell out that Halloran boarded the train that night with the bundle under his arm. His trip was to be as short as he could make it, for he did not like to be away at this time. Full instructions were left with his assistant; and his post as amateur fire marshal was assigned to the Captain during his absence. Jimmie, it seemed, had been with the Le Ducs until the change. Where to find him now was a question, or it would have been if his eye had not alighted on the name “Elmer Le Duc” in the evening paper, among the attractions advertised by a Clark Street vaudeville theatre. He reached Chicago in the morning, and in the afternoon dropped around to the theatre. From the display of the name in five-inch letters on the bill-boards of a downtown continuous performance it was to be inferred that Jimmie was getting on in the world. His position on the programme, too--toward three o'clock--and the little burst of applause that followed the appearance of his name on the announcement card at the side of the stage, aided the impression. And finally, when the familiar wizen-faced, thin-legged boy, as undersized as ever, appeared, shouted out the preliminary song of his specialty, and fell into a long and wonderfully intricate dance, there was no doubting he had popped into favour. When he had disappeared, after the third recall, and the next turn was announced, Halloran slipped out and strolled a few steps up the alley that led to the stage-door. A quarter of an hour later a large, coarse-featured young woman, wearing a rakish French costume, came out into the alley; and behind her, barely reaching to her shoulder, in the unfamiliar get-up of a light suit, a wide-brimmed pearl-gray hat, tan shoes, and a bamboo stick, appeared Jimmie. They started to walk off together, but at Halloran's hail the young man turned. “How are you,” he said with a nod, somewhat as if their last meeting had been but a few hours earlier. “Want to speak to me?” At Halloran's affirmative, he left the woman, who stared at Halloran as she waited. “Been to the show?” asked Jimmie. “Got 'em cold, ain't I? I always told Le Duc I could do it the minute I got a chance at a big house.” “I've been looking for you, Jimmie. Won't you have dinner with me to-night at the Auditorium?” “Dinner, eh? What time?” “Half-past six.” “I suppose so. You see I was goin' with Jane--that's Jane Scott, you know; greatest character singer and dancer on the stage. We're goin' to be married next week, and I'm sorter supposed to hang around her most of the time. But I guess I can make it. Anythin' doin'?”