The house rang with cheers. Men and women stood up and clapped and applauded and yelled like mad. When a semblance of order was restored, the local manager dismissed the audience. As he said, none of the performers were in condition to go on further after the little tragedy they had witnessed, which had ended so happily, after all. Nor was the audience in a mood for any more vaudeville after the bit of real life in which they had participated. * * * * * "How did it go off, Bill?" asked the brown-haired man of the local manager in the office half an hour later. "Fine!" said the manager. "It was the greatest act I ever saw. You did splendidly, old man. I congratulate you." "It has only one disadvantage," remarked the hard-featured man: "you can only do it once in each town. It's only good for one-night stands." "And didn't Nellie do it well?" returned the other. "She did that," replied the local manager; "she couldn't have done it better! It almost made me weep myself." "That child's a born actress," said the hard-featured man; "she'll be a treasure some day, sure." "She's a treasure now," replied the local manager. "What a pity we couldn't do it over to-night!" "Do you know, men," said the brown-haired man, "I feel real guilty somehow. Seems like such a fraud----" "Nonsense, Bill!" interrupted the manager, yet with a note of sympathy in his tone. "Rot!" commented hard features, not the least comprehending. "Where is she now?" asked the other, shaking his head dubiously, still uncertain and unconvinced. "Her father and mother took her home right after the performance, and I hope she is fast asleep in her bed by this time, like a good little girl," continued the manager. "Here's your check, Bill. Be on hand Monday night when we open at X----" THE LAST TRIBUTE TO HIS GENIUS TRAGEDY "I have heard That guilty creatures sitting at a play, Have, by the very cunning of the scene, Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ." SHAKESPEARE The crime had been one of peculiar atrociousness. While the little old man who kept the quaint curiosity-shop down on Linden Street seemed to have few or no friends, he was blessed with a great many acquaintances, especially among the people of the better class, for whom it was quite a fad to visit the dingy, shabby little store, with its assortment of bric-a-brac, mouldy books, articles of virtu, and antiques, genuine or spurious, valuable or worthless, all heaped about in promiscuous confusion.