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dicating that he was busy. “I’ll scout around and if I turn up anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Good. So long, Steve,” he said, shaking my hand. “And, Steve—"

“What?”

“I’ll leave a ticket for you at the box office. If he asks you to pay the war tax, tell him I said it would be O. K.” He smiled and waved me out.

I did scout around, making a few inquiries in the places that seemed most logical to me, but could get nowhere, and finally decided that Ike Humbert was right, and that they were the usual crank letters that were not worth bothering about. The time was very limited and the possibilities were endless, so there was little chance to do anything but the most obvious things.

I inquired from Humbert’s stenographer as to who had been discharged lately, and received a short list which was not very fruitful, though I looked into it faithfully, even going so far as to make a trip to the Bronx on a wild goose chase that netted me absolutely nothing. I also talked to the members of the cast, in the hope that perhaps one of them might have some idea as to just what was happening, and who was doing it, but there was no light there. I did not see Betty Sargent, who was out doing some last minute shopping, but I saw all the rest of them, and I thought it would be just as well if nothing was said that might disturb Miss Sargent just before her first night.