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.