At the end of the first act Jed and George Osprey were called before the curtain. Jed had been instructed to bow his thanks, and did so. Percy watched his face eagerly, for this brought Jed within a few feet of him.

"Mother," he said, "if that boy isn't Jed, it is his twin brother."

"But, Percy," said his mother, who was a practical woman, "I never heard that the boy had a twin brother."

"Oh, pshaw! I meant that he is exactly like him."

"But this boy is Ralph Clinton. The bill says so."

"I know it," said Percy, with a puzzled expression. "I don't understand it at all."

"The boy you mean is probably in bed at the Scranton poorhouse."

"Perhaps he is. I don't see, for my part, how he could be here, or know how to act."

The play proceeded. It was in five acts, and Jed was not called upon to appear again till the last one. He proved himself up to the requirements of the part, and evidently produced a favorable impression on the audience.

"Mother," said Percy, "I would like to wait at the stage door till the actors come out."

"But, Percy, it is already late. We ought to be starting for home."

"But, mother, you know father is Overseer of the Poor, and if this boy is Jed, he has run away from the Scranton poorhouse, and father will be held responsible."

"Why should he?"

"Because the paupers are under his charge. If one of them runs away he will be blamed."

"Well, if you think we ought to stop," said the lady undecidedly. "But I don't see what you expect to accomplish."

"I want to see that boy face to face. I want to speak to him, and find out for certain who he is."

"Well, don't be any longer than you can help."

"I won't."

Meanwhile Jed and Harry Bertram were conversing in the greenroom.

"You did yourself proud, my boy," said Bertram. "You acted as well as Clinton, and in some respects better."

"I am glad to hear you say so, Mr. Bertram," said Jed, gratified.

"I could hardly believe that this was your first appearance on the stage. Weren't you frightened at all?"

"Not a bit. I enjoyed it."

"Did you see any of your Scranton friends in the audience?"

"I saw none of my Scranton friends," answered Jed, "but I saw two Scranton acquaintances."

"Who were they?"

"Percy Dixon, son of the Overseer of the Poor, and his mother."

"Where were they sitting?"

"In the third row from the stage."

"Do you think they recognized you?"

"I saw Percy watching me very closely I am sure he noticed my resemblance to his old acquaintance Jed, but he couldn't understand how it was possible for me to be the same boy."

"Then you baffled him?"

"I don't know. I shouldn't wonder if he would be waiting outside to get a view of me."

"And if he does?"

"He will do all he can to get me back to the poorhouse."

"Then I'll tell you what to do. Go out of the stage door arm in arm with me, and I will address you as Ralph. If he speaks, appear not to know him."

"That will be a capital joke," said Jed taking in the humor of the situation.

"Between us, I think we can bluff him off."

Jed had appeared in the last act in his street costume, and had no preparations to make, but Bertram had to exchange his stage for his ordinary dress. When they were ready they emerged from the stage door arm in arm. A glance showed Jed that Percy was waiting to intercept him. He did not appear to notice Percy, but passed on.

Percy hastened forward, and touched him on the arm.

"Look here, I want to speak to you," he said.

"Speak on, my boy," said Jed, assuming the style of his new profession.

"How did you come here?" demanded Percy bluntly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you are Jed Gilman."

"My dear Ralph, what does this person mean?" said Bertram.

"He evidently mistakes me for some one he knows," said Jed coolly. "May I ask your name, young man?"

"You know me well enough," said Percy angrily, for Jed had not tried to change his voice. "I am Percy Dixon."

"Percy Dixon?" repeated Jed. "Where have I met you?"

"Where have you met me?" retorted Percy. "At the Scranton poorhouse."

"Do you reside there?" asked Jed with admirable composure.

"Do I live at the poorhouse?" repeated Percy, exasperated. "Of course I don't."

Mrs. Dixon had heard this colloquy, as she was sitting in the carriage only six feet away.

"Percy," she said, "I told you you had made a mistake."

"I don't believe I have," said Percy in a sulky tone.

"For whom do you take me, Mr. Dixon?" asked Jed.

"For Jed Gilman, a poorhouse boy."

"I feel very much complimented," said Jed smoothly. "I hope Jed is a nice boy."

"No, he isn't. He is an impudent young rascal."

"Then how dare you compare my friend Ralph to a boy like that?" demanded Bertram savagely. "You must be crazy, or do you mean to deliberately insult him?"

Poor Percy was overwhelmed. He wasn't half so certain now that he was right. True, there was a wonderful resemblance between the young actor and Jed, but then it seemed impossible that Jed should have left the poorhouse suddenly (and Percy remembered seeing him that very afternoon at his own home) and developed into a member of a dramatic company.

"I may have made a mistake," he said doubtfully.

"I am glad you realize this possibility," said Bertram. "Did you witness the play this evening?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you think your friend Jed——"

"He is not my friend."

"Well, do you think that Jed, whatever he is, could act like my friend Ralph?"

"No, I don't think he could," Percy admitted.

"Probably this Jed is a very ordinary boy?"

"I should say so. Ordinary is no name for it. He is stupid."

"Then you will see for yourself that it is not very likely that he should become an accomplished actor all at once. If it were you it might be different. You are evidently a young man of social position, while this Jed is a poor boy, and I presume without education."

"Yes, he is very ignorant," answered Percy, falling into the trap. "Is it—hard to learn to act?" he added.

"Not if you have talent and education. Do you think of trying the stage?"

"I might some time," said Percy, flattered by the question.

"If you do, I hope you will succeed. Now, Mr. Dixon, I must bid you good night, as my friend Ralph and myself are fatigued with our acting and must get to bed."

"Good evening!" said Jed, raising his hat gravely.

"Good evening!" returned Percy, more puzzled than ever.

He jumped into the carriage and started to drive home.

"Then it wasn't Jed?" said his mother.

"I suppose not," answered Percy, "but I never in all my life saw such a resemblance."

"Very likely," replied Mrs. Dixon placidly. "There was a woman in Trenton who looked just like me, so that no one could tell us apart."

"Yes," admitted Percy; "I must be mistaken. This boy had a very nice suit on, while Jed was dressed in rags."

When they reached home Squire Dixon was abed and asleep. Percy came down late to breakfast.

"By the way, Percy," said his father, as he helped him to breakfast, "Fogson has just been over to report that the boy Jed has mysteriously disappeared. He never went back after bringing me the message yesterday afternoon."

Percy dropped his knife and fork and stared at his father in open-eyed amazement.

"Then it was Jed, after all!" he exclaimed.