The Argosy for May — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

a 342 | THE ARGOSY. have been unsuccessful in my mission, and leave for New York on Saturday.” ‘Ts it a woman's play?” the actress queried eagerly. ‘No; it is written for a man. And, as luck would have it, all the managers claim they want a play for a woman star. I have reached the conclusion that men stars are things of the past.” ‘“T know an actress who is looking for a good play. She is to be at my New York dinner—why, there, I never thought of it! Are you engaged for Wednesday night? ” } “Until Saturday, my entire time is at my disposal,” Walker replied gloomily. ‘Then you must join us,” Miss Bailey went on enthusiastically. “I am giving a dinner that night to the New Yorkers I know who are in London just now. You will come?” “Thank you ever so much, and I shall be delighted to do so.” ‘The play- wright’s eyes glistened at the pleasant prospect. ‘Here is my card. We will count on your presence. By the way,:do you re- member Carroll Dempster, who made the big hit in ‘The Crossroads’? He is in town, and will be with us, too. I know I can assure you a jolly time.” “T don’t doubt it; and I'll be mighty glad to come.” ‘There was a truly sin- cere ring to Walker’s tone. “ Just ahead is my hotel; and, if you’ll drop me there, you may then continue your drive with- out the gloomy companion you have ue for some moments.” ““Tf you care to drive on with me, I’ll guarantee to lift you out of the depths you seem to be in.” But Walker pleaded an engagement. In truth, he felt embittered against the world and himself. It annoyed him to learn of the success of others. It only seemed to magnify the enormity of his failure. And while the meeting with Hope Bailey had been a joyous surprise, the news of what others were doing made him so discon- solate that he well knew he should only prove a bore if he acted on her sug- gestion. He shook her hand warmly as he alighted in front of the hotel he had left the day previous, and with the words: “To-morrow night and_ let . Street. nothing interfere,’ ringing in his ears, he turned toward his former hostelry and entered the lobby. “Any mail for me?” he queried of the clerk. > NO; Sit, be But—”’ ‘Anybody called?” he went on. “Yes, sir; a gentleman was here late yesterday afternoon to see you.” “I don’t doubt that,” Walker laughed. ‘“T hope you explained that I had left without giving any address.” “Yes, sir, I did. He seemed quite disappointed, but left his card, saying that if we heard from you to tell you that he wanted to see you as soon as possible.”’ ‘Well, of all the display of congealed nerve and brass!” the dramatist splut- tered. “Let me see-the card, anyway. I’d like to know who this American is.” “He isn’t an American,” the clerk explained. “ This is the card he left.” Walker took it carelessly, allowing his eyes to glance at it inquisitivély. Then an exclamation of surprise and joy burst from his lips. “Myers!” he exclaimed. Facing the clerk, he queried eagerly: ‘‘ He said he wanted to see me immediately? ” “Yes, sir; he said it was very impor- tant, and seemed quite put out to think you had left no address.”’ Walker hesitated a moment; then turned upon his heel and hurried to the Here he hailed a passing cab, and ordered the man to drive to the manager’s office. ‘IT can’t believe he has accepted the play,” he kept telling himself. “It seems too good to be true! Yet what else should he be so anxious to sce me about? It mast be that!” Although the driver was urging his horse to an unusual speed, it seemed to the now thoroughly aroused dramatist as if he would never reach his destina- tion. But, at length, the cab drew up before the building; Walker paid the fare, and hurried within. ‘I wish to see Mr. Myers,” he an- nounced to the office-boy. ‘“‘ Here is my card.” “Mr. Myers ain’t in, sir,’ the boy replied, without offering to accept the card. no mail,” was the reply. CONIC IOOKS EO