Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 75: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

STANDING ROOM ONLY. He whisked into the office while Mac- Kechnie was reading the reports of Eva’s speech in the Delphis Oracle and the Times- Examiner. Both of them gave the story front page space, with runovers on page two; the Oracle commented editorially upon this “ astounding revelation.” ‘* Say,” said Sol, “‘ what you trying to do —commit suicide?” ‘““T didn’t make the speech.” “You didn’t deliver it, maybe. But you framed it, and I bet you wrote most of it.” MacKechnie protested mildly. “YT did nothing of the sort. Miss Ray got something off her chest that has been laying there for a long time: give her credit.” ‘She must’ve been crazy.” MacKechnie pointed to the front page headlines. “Oh, I’ve read ’em,” conceded Sol. ‘“* I’ve read ’em and wept. It’s publicity, all right, but not the sort of publicity we want. No, sir. It ‘Il do more harm than good. And I'll tell you one thing—it means the end of Eva Ray. She’s cooked her chances with that line. She’s out!” “Well,” muttered MacKechnie, “ we'll see.” After a sleepless night, and a great many long, meditative cigars, he hadn’t been able to fathom the whole thing with any degree of reason. The incomprehensible had ap- parently happened—and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to believe that it was true. His mental processes, usually keenly alert, were utterly befuddled and befogged. He was incapable of coherent thought. He felt as though he had suddenly sat down on an earthquake. Later Eva called up. “But I thought you’d gone,” he said weakly. “I thought you went last night.” ‘No, I’m still here,” came back a cheer- ful voice. “I told Mosher and the rest that I flatly refused to go on to Kansas City. They had to cancel the bookings. You should have seen them—” and the words trailed off into a laugh that tinkled over the wire. MacKechnie didn’t know what to say. ‘‘T want you to come down and see me,”’ she continued, “ right away.” oA 225 ““I—I can’t do it now, I’ve got to—” ‘’'You’ve got to come right down. Good- by!”—followed by the final click of the receiver. MacKechnie went. ‘“Did you see the papers?” she asked as he made a hesitant entrance. “T certainly did.” “Well, what do you think?” “T can’t think. I’ve forgotten how.” Eva Ray took his hand, led him to a chair and pushed him into it. “They tell me I’ve killed my career,” she said, standing over him. ‘“‘ They all say that I’m crazy. Well, I don’t care. I’ve recovered something that I lost when I first went to Hollywood, and that’s my self- respect. It’s wonderful to have it back.” MacKechnie looked up at her humbly. ‘Well, what are your plans now?” he asked. ‘“[’m going to stay right here.” = Here?” ‘““ Here—in Delphis. My great personal appearance tour is off for the time being, and I don’t expect to hear much kick from the towns that will have to struggle along without me.” “What are you going to do in Delphis? It’s a terribly dead place.” ‘““T don’t care about that. I’m not out on a pleasure trip. I’m going to stay here for a week and make a speech at your the- ater every night.” “What?” MacKechnie jumped up. “Oh, it won’t hurt you,” Eva assured him. “ That applause last night got into my blood, and showed me just what the public wants. I’m going to give them more of it. I’m going to tell the whole truth— in installments.” “But you’re killing your own chances; Sol Mosher told me so—”’ ‘“‘ Never mind Sol Mosher; he’s not God. I’m doing my own stuff for a change.” MacKechnie stared at her curiously, as though he wished to record in his mind a definite picture of this strange, inexplica- ble creature who could murmur empty platitudes with one breath and cold truths with another. ‘“ Now you’d better hurry down to the evening papers, if there are any in,this COMmICLOO® (”) S (C@) nn