"Better!" declared Mr. Bunn, who was over his fright now. He caught the
end of the vine Alice flung to him, and held on grimly as the four girls
prepared to tug on their portion.

With this added strength the plight of the actor was soon relieved.
Slowly but surely he was pulled from the sticky mud, and, a little later,
he was safely hauled out on the firm bank.

"Thank the Lord for that!" exclaimed Mr. Pertell, reverently, as he saw
that his employe was safe. "I should never have forgiven myself if--if
anything had happened to you. For it was my suggestion that you go in the
bog. My dear man, can you forgive me?" and he held out his hand to Mr.
Bunn, while his voice grew husky, and there was a suspicious moisture in
his eye.

"That's all right," responded Mr. Bunn, generously, and he seemed to have
added something to his nature through his nerve-racking experience. He
had been near death, or at least the possibility of it, and it had meant
much to him.

"Don't blame yourself, Mr. Pertell," he went on. "I went into the hole
with my eyes open. Neither of us knew the quicksand was there. And I
suppose we must accept with this business the risks that go with it."

"Yes, it is part of the game," admitted the manager; "but I want none of
my players to take unnecessary risks. I shall be more careful in the
future."

Mr. Bunn was quite exhausted from his experience, and, as the affair had