Fenn arrived at the theatre a quarter of an hour before the curtainrose. Going down a gloomy alley of the High Street, he found himselfat the stage door, where he made inquiries of a depressed-looking manwith a bad cold in the head as to the whereabouts of his brother. Itseemed that he was with Mr Higgs. If he would wait, said thedoor-keeper, his name should be sent up. Fenn waited, while thedoor-keeper made polite conversation by describing his symptoms to himin a hoarse growl. Presently the minion who had been despatched to theupper regions with Fenn's message returned. Would he go upstairs,third door on the left. Fenn followed the instructions, and foundhimself in a small room, a third of which was filled by a hugeiron-bound chest, another third by a very stout man and adressing-table, while the rest of the space was comparatively empty,being occupied by a wooden chair with three legs. On this seat hisbrother was trying to balance himself, giving what part of hisattention was not required for this feat to listening to some storythe fat man was telling him. Fenn had heard his deep voice booming ashe went up the passage.

　　His brother did the honours.

　　"Glad to see you, glad to see you," said Mr Higgs, for the fat man wasnone other than that celebrity. "Take a seat."Fenn sat down on the chest and promptly tore his trousers on a jaggedpiece of iron.

　　"These provincial dressing-rooms!" said Mr Higgs, by way of comment.

　　"No room! Never any room! No chairs! Nothing!"He spoke in short, quick sentences, and gasped between each. Fenn saidit really didn't matter--he was quite comfortable.

　　"Haven't they done anything about it?" asked Fenn's brother, resumingthe conversation which Fenn's entrance had interrupted. "We've beenhaving a burglary here," he explained. "Somebody got into the theatrelast night through a window. I don't know what they expected to find.""Why," said Fenn, "we've had a burglar up our way too. Chap broke intothe school house and went through the old man's drawing-room. Theschool house men have been talking about nothing else ever since. Iwonder if it's the same crew."Mr Higgs turned in his chair, and waved a stick of grease paintimpressively to emphasise his point.

　　"There," he said. "There! What I've been saying all along. No doubt ofit. Organised gang. And what are the police doing? Nothing, sir,nothing. Making inquiries. Rot! What's the good of inquiries?"Fenn's brother suggested mildly that inquiries were a good beginning.

　　You _must_ start somehow. Mr Higgs scouted the idea.

　　"There ought not to be any doubt, sir. They ought to _know_. ToKNOW," he added, with firmness.

　　At this point there filtered through the closed doors the strains ofthe opening chorus.

　　"By Jove, it's begun!" said Fenn's brother. "Come on, Bob.""Where are we going to?" asked Fenn, as he followed. "The wings?"But it seemed that the rules of Mr Higgs' company prevented anyoutsider taking up his position in that desirable quarter. The onlyplace from which it was possible to watch the performance, except bygoing to the front of the house, was the "flies," situated near theroof of the building.

　　Fenn found all the pleasures of novelty in watching the players fromthis lofty position. Judged by the cold light of reason, it was notthe best place from which to see a play. It was possible to gain onlya very foreshortened view of the actors. But it was a change aftersitting "in front".

　　The piece was progressing merrily. The gifted author, at first silentand pale, began now to show signs of gratification. Now and again hechuckled as some _jeu de mots_ hit the mark and drew a quick gustof laughter from the unseen audience. Occasionally he would nudge Fennto draw his attention to some good bit of dialogue which wasapproaching. He was obviously enjoying himself.

　　The advent of Mr Higgs completed his satisfaction, for the audiencegreeted the comedian with roars of applause. As a rule Eckleton tookits drama through the medium of third-rate touring companies, whichcame down with plays that had not managed to attract London to anygreat extent, and were trying to make up for failures in themetropolis by long tours in the provinces. It was seldom that an actorof the Higgs type paid the town a visit, and in a play, too, which hadpositively never appeared before on any stage. Eckleton appreciatedthe compliment.

　　"Listen," said Fenn's brother. "Isn't that just the part for him? It'sjust like he was in the dressing-room, eh? Short sentences andeverything. The funny part of it is that I didn't know the man when Iwrote the play. It was all luck."Mr Higgs' performance sealed the success of the piece. The houselaughed at everything he said. He sang a song in his gasping way, andthey laughed still more. Fenn's brother became incoherent withdelight. The verdict of Eckleton was hardly likely to affect Londontheatre-goers, but it was very pleasant notwithstanding. Like everyplaywright with his first piece, he had been haunted by the idea thathis dialogue "would not act", that, however humorous it might be to areader, it would fall flat when spoken. There was no doubt now as towhether the lines sounded well.

　　At the beginning of the second act the great Higgs was not on thestage, Fenn's brother knowing enough of the game not to bring on hisbig man too soon. He had not to enter for ten minutes or so. Theauthor, who had gone down to see him durin............