"Well?" he said, when he saw I was awake.
"I guess I was sleeping." I sat up and pushed in my hairpins and yawned.
I was tireder than ever. "I'm clean worn out."
"Of course you're tired," he declared angrily. "You're not a horse, and
you haven't been to bed for two nights."
"Care killed the cat," I said. "I don't mind losing sleep, but it's like
walking in a swamp, Mr. Pierce. First I put a toe in--that was when I
asked you to stay over night. Then I went a step farther, lured on, as
you may say, by Miss Patty waving a crown or whatever it is she wants,
just beyond my nose. And to-night I've got a--well, to-night I'm in to
the neck and yelling for a quick death."
He leaned over to where I sat before the fire and twisted my head toward
him.
"To-night--what?" he demanded.
But that minute I made up my mind not to tell him. He might think the
situation was too much for him and leave, or he might decide he ought to
tell Miss Summers where Dick was. There was no love lost between him and
Mr. Carter.
"To-night--I'm just tired and cranky," I said, "so--is Miss Summers
settled yet?"
He nodded, as if he wasn't thinking of Miss Summers.
"What did you tell her?"
"Haven't seen her," he said. "Sent her a note that I was understudying a
man named Carter and to mind to pick up her cues."
"It's a common enough name," I said, but he had lighted his pipe again
and had dropped forward, one elbow on his knee, his hand holding the
bowl of his pipe, and staring into the fire.
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