The Argosy for May — page 153: what you’re looking at

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

340 He turned from the desk, and, as he crossed the lobby, caught a glimpse of a person entering the hotel. It was just a fleeting glance; but it was enough. He recognized the gray-suited American. Hardly conscious of what he was do- ing,. he sprang behind a _ convenient screen, without being seen by his caller, and awaited the interview between him and the clerk, being close enough easily to overhear their conversation. “Is Mr. Walker in?” he heard the stranger inquire. ‘1 do not think he is,” the clerk re- plied evasively. “Well, find out,” the stranger com- manded. “Yes, sir, of course. Page, go up to Mr. Walker’s room, one hundred and fourteen, and see if he is in.” It seemed an age to the screen-shel- tered dramatist before there was further conversation at the desk; and then it - was the announcement by the bell-boy: “Mr. Walker is not in.” He could almost see the clerk turn to the stranger, as he heard him inquire suavely: “Is there any word you wish to leave, sir?” “No.” ‘There seemed a thoughtfulness in his tone as he added: “ But I could have sworn I saw him get out of a cab here about five minutes ago. I was standing on the next corner—oh, well, as soon as he returns tell him I called. You have my card?” : ‘Yes, sir—yes, sir,’’ the clerk hastened to reply. ‘Very good.” The sound of retreating footsteps told Walker the man was moving toward the door; and, after a brief wait, he emerged from his hiding-place. “ That’s the man, sir,’”’ the clerk said, as the guest approached him. ‘So I judged,” he returned. “I didn’t see him, and I don’t want to. Let me look at your London. guide.” The clerk hastened to produce ithe book; and, for some moments, Walker pored over its pages. ‘Then, without looking up, he directed: ‘Make up my bill immediately, and have a cab at the door in five minutes. I’m going to leave.” “Why so soon?” the clerk broke out in amazement. “I hope, sir, it isn’t be- THE ARGOSY. cause I lost the card; because I’ll find ites “ Nothing to do with it,” the play- wright interrupted tersely. ‘I'll be down in five minutes.” He stalked away from the desk; and, upon reaching his room, hastily packed his trunk and rang for the porter, after which he descended to the office again. “We're sorry to have you go, Mr. Walker,” the clerk said with real regret, ‘very sorry. Will you leave an address for us to forward any mail that may come?” ‘There will be none,’’ was the blunt reply. ‘‘ Hence, I do not need to leave my address; but, in case there should be any letters, hold them for me. I'll com- municate with you in a day or two.” Walker quickly paid his bill; then hurried to the waiting cab. “ A pretty state of affairs,’ he grum- bled, as the vehicle rumbled off toward the address given to the driver. ‘“ Forced to move because an insistent American is determined that I shall lend him money. Confound him and his nerve!” he added vindictively. Il. *’ FarRLyY decent hotel,’ Walker com- mented, as he unpacked the articles necessary for the brief stay at his new abode, “although I can’t say that I should care to stop here any longer than Saturday. But it will do until then. The one great thing in its favor is that it is some cheaper than my last hotel. ‘“ Heavens, what an existence!” he added, as he flung himself dejectedly into a chair. “It’s enough to drive a person crazy, this waiting for one manager after another either to*accept or turn down a play.” He took his pipe from his pocket, and, lighting it, puffed away in thought- ful silence. He was building air-castles ; thinking of what would occur if Myers should-accept the play. For some unknown reason, he pinned a heap of faith to this man. He re- called the old saying, about the darkness before the dawn, and muttered: “ Well, if I’m not in the deepest darkness just at present, I want to drop out of ex- istence before it becomes any denser.” MICLOOKS Cc (C@