"The girls have struck!"
Mr. Saltzburg blinked through his glasses.
"The girls?" he repeated blankly.
"Oh, damn it!" cried the stage-director, his patience at last giving way. "You know what a girl is, don't you?"
"They have what?"
"Struck! Walked out on us! Refused to go on!"
Mr. Saltzburg reeled under the blow.
"But it is impossible! Who is to sing the opening chorus?"
In the presence of one to whom he could relieve his mind without fear of consequences, the stage-director became savagely jocular.
"That's all arranged," he said. "We're going to dress the carpenters in skirts. The audience won't notice anything wrong."
"Should I speak to Mr. Goble?" queried Mr. Saltzburg doubtfully.
"Yes, if you don't value your life," returned the stage-director.
Mr. Saltzburg pondered.
"I w
