Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 4 — page 150: what you’re looking at

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

620 The house went dark. Presently the lit- tle white moon cast by the electric torch in the hand of Miss Raymond began playing here and there about the stage. It picked up some unimportant object, held it for a moment, and passed on; picked up some- thing else equally unimportant, held that for a second, and moved away. Darkness. Silence. Suspense! ‘‘ Great!’’ whispered Aleck, so as not to break the spell. ‘‘ Will that get ’em, Andy? Tell me!” ‘“You bet it will!” 1 assured him, also in a whisper ' The clock began striking. One—two— three—and, honest, I began to feel *°em— those shivery feelings up and down the back seam of my coat! _Ten—eleven— twelve! Positively on schedule time the spotlight illumined the ghastly countenance of Aloysius McFadden, George Higgins’s victim. ‘“T guess that fellow’s going to be worth the money,” observed Aleck in a hushed tone. ‘He can certainly play dead!” ‘“That’s what he can,” I agreed. “ He can surely imitate a corpse to perfection. Honest, he’s so darned realistic I feel like sending for an undertaker, or the coroner, or somebody. He certainly makes a dandy dead man!” Then—the scream at midnight! And—— “Lights!” yelled Aleck. They came on. Same “Say,” said Aleck, addressing Miss Anita Raymond, the expert exterior deco- rator, in a very rough, coarse tone of voice —‘ Say, listen! Were you screaming then or taking something for your voice? Were you screaming or gargling your throat? Is that what you call a scream? A healthy scream that was! If that’s the way you scream when you suddenly discover that somebody has murdered your father, what would you do if you saw a mouse? Listen! That wasn’t a scream. It was only a little yelp—like as if you had stepped on a tack in the dark, or something. You discover that somebody has murdered your father— his face leaps at you right out of the dark— and you make a noise like somebody step- ping on a tack! That’s what you do, and THE ARGOSY. —rotten! Rotten! Try it again, and this time give me a réal scream! Go back to where you throw the spot on your father’s face. Never mind the clock. And this time—scream! Lights out!” This time Miss Raymond managed to utter something that was a little wore like the real article; but, still, at best, the re- semblance was pretty faint. Once more Aleck called for the lights. ‘““Now see here,” said Aleck, striding down to the footlights and waving his arms excitedly. ‘“ What’s the idea? Are you go- ing to crab the show? Listen! This is the big scene, and that scream that I’m trying to get out of you is the biggest thing in it. If you don’t loosen up and scream the way you ought to, this show is going to be a flivver, and you’re going to lose your job. It all depends on you! Get into the situa- tion! Lose yourself! your father has been murdered—murdered in cold blood! You’ve heard the shot. You’re looking round to find out what’s happened. And you find him—your father—dead! And then you scream—get me? You scream! You don’t make a noise that sounds like it was intend- ed to express polite regrets over the occur- rence. You're overcome with horror, and the scream shows it! Now that last one was .a little better, but not enough—far from it! Try again!” Well, in a nutshell, Miss Raymond tried — again, and again; and she kept on trying until Aleck was a raving maniac, and the rest of us were so nervous that it was all we could do to keep from doing «a little shrieking ourselves. Anyhow, I felt as if I could produce a really superior article in that line. And I saw that it wasn’t any use. Miss Anita Raymond simply couldn’t rise to the occasion. As an emotional ac- tress she was missing; she was simply not there. She didn’t have one good healthy scream in her system; or if she did she couldn’t get it out. ‘ Better call it off, Aleck,” I said. “ It’s no use. She can’t scream for sour apples, and you might as well make up your mind to it. And besides—listen. I’ve got a sug- gestion to make. Maybe one of the other girls may turn out to be a good screamer, and, if so, where would be the objection? AMICLOOO (Cl Q) S (C(O)