It was not the police, but the attendants, who forced their way through the crowd in the bar. Seeing this, Lancaster's friend, by name Dicky Baird, and by profession an idler of the West End, seized his chum's arm and dragged him out of the bar by main force. "No use waiting for a summons," said Dicky, when the two were in the vestibule. "I think you'd better get home, Frank." The other stared at a poster which announced that a new musical comedy would be produced that night at the Piccadilly Theatre, with Miss Fanny Tait in the chief part. "I'm not going till I see her," he said, pointing to this name. "What, Fairy Fan? Why, all the row was about her." "Because he abused the woman. She's a good sort, and I like her very much. You know I do, but there's no love." "Not on your part, perhaps, but Starth loves her, and you knocked him down." "I wish I'd killed him," said Lancaster, between his teeth. "Don't talk rashly, Frank," said the other, with uneasiness. "If anything goes wrong with Starth you'll get into trouble." "Malice aforethought," said Lancaster, carelessly. "Pshaw The man isn't hurt. He'll be up and swearing before the play begins." It seemed that he was right, for a tall, bulky dark man approached with a smile. "Starth's all right," said he, with a nod. "You've swelled his eye a bit, Frank, but that's all. Berry's going to put him into a hansom. And now we'd better get to our seats." The others assented, and the trio moved into the theatre. As they passed down the steps leading to the stalls, they caught a glimpse of Captain Berry conducting a swaying figure to the door. "How did the row begin?" asked Dicky, when they were seated. "Starth said I didn't know who my father was," said Frank. "Well, you don't, do you?" "That's neither here nor there. Starth has nothing to do with my domestic business." "H'm!" said Baird to himself, thoughtfully. Frank Lancaster was a dark horse, and although Dicky had known him for some years, he was not aware of his private history. Lancaster kept that to himself, and seemed unnecessarily annoyed by the question of Baird. Dicky could see nothing in Starth's remark which should lead to a free fight, though to be sure Fairy Fan's name had likewise been mentioned. However, Frank seemed indisposed to speak, and like a wise man Baird held his usually too-free tongue. Miss Tait, commonly known as Fairy Fan, was a popular music-hall star, who danced gracefully and sang sweetly. For a salary largely in excess of her merits, she had deserted the halls for the theatre, and to-night was her first appearance in "The Seaside Girl." Hence the large audience and the subdued excitement. At the present moment she was dancing like a fay and singing like a lark, but the three men nevertheless talked all the time. "Jolly little thing, ain't she?" said Dicky. "She comes from the Californian Slopes."