The impromptu epilogue to the play and the abandonment of the theater by the young star had occurred too late to reach the next morning’s papers.  
The evening sheets were sure to make a spread. The actors were bound to gossip, and the stage-hands. Somebody would tell some reporter and gain a little credit or a 
 
little excitement. Therefore almost everybody would join in the race for publication.
 
Reben understood this, and he held a council of war with Starr Coleman as to the best form of presentation. He had a natural and not unjustified desire to have the 
 
story do the least possible harm to his play. He collaborated with his press agent for hours over the campaign, and they decided upon a formal telegram to be given to 
 
the Associated Press and the other bureaus. They would flash it to all the crannies of the continent. It was too bad that such easy publicity should be wasted on an 
 
expiring instead of a rising star.
 
For the Chicago papers Reben decided upon an interview which he would give with seeming reluctance at the solicitation of Coleman on behalf of the reporters.
 
The loss of Sheila was a serious blow. The problem was whether or not “Hamlet” could succeed with Hamlet omitted; or, rather, if “As You Like It” would prosper 
 
without Rosalind.
 
Reben had been tempted to close the theater at once; then get Winfield’s money out of him if he had to levy on his father’s business, which, the manager had learned, 
 
was big and solvent.
 
But his egotism revolted at such a procedure, and in a fine burst of pride he had written the letter to Bret and, tearing the “I O U” to shreds, sealed it in. At the 
 
same time he resolved not to give up the ship. It was never easy to tell who made the success of a play. He had known road companies to take in more money without a 
 
famous star than with one.
 
He rounded up Batterson, got him out of bed, and sent for Dulcie Ormerod to meet him in the deserted hotel parlor and begin rehearsals at once. She could make up her 
 
sleep later in the day or next week. Then he went to his own bed.
 
Sometimes luck conspires with the brave. The first stage-hand who met the first early morning reporter and sold him the story for a drink had the usual hazy idea one 
 
brings away from a fist-battle. According to him Winfield had come back on the stage drunk and started a row by striking at Mr. Eldon.
 
Eldon knocked Winfield backward into the arms of Batterson and McNish, and would have finished him off if Sheila had not sheltered him. Thereupon Eldon ordered 
 
Winfield out of the theater, and he retreated under the protection of his wife, for it seemed that the poor girl had been deluded into marrying the hound.
 
The reporter was overjoyed at this glorious find. He hunted up Sheila and Winfield first. Sheila answered the telephone, and at Bret’s advice refused to see or be 
 
seen. She gave the reporter the............