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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9459dc0 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55830 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55830) diff --git a/old/55830-0.txt b/old/55830-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 74f4569..0000000 --- a/old/55830-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5699 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Peggy on the Road, by Virginia Hughes - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Peggy on the Road - Peggy Lane Theater Stories, #4 - -Author: Virginia Hughes - -Release Date: October 27, 2017 [EBook #55830] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEGGY ON THE ROAD *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -[Illustration: _Peggy read with mounting conviction and assurance._] - - PEGGY LANE THEATER STORIES - - - - - _Peggy on the Road_ - - - By VIRGINIA HUGHES - - Illustrated by Sergio Leone - - - GROSSET & DUNLAP _Publishers_ - NEW YORK - - © GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC., 1963 - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - - MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - - - CONTENTS - - - 1 The Break of a Lifetime 1 - 2 Katherine Nelson 16 - 3 The Inner Sanctum 30 - 4 “Innocent Laughter” 41 - 5 Tryouts 52 - 6 “Why Don’t You Quit?” 66 - 7 Peggy Turns Detective 76 - 8 The Search 86 - 9 The One-Eyed Giant 103 - 10 Tom Agate 114 - 11 A Star Comes Back 125 - 12 Tom’s Tryout 139 - 13 The Ordeal 148 - 14 The Secret 157 - 15 “Curtain Going Up!” 170 - - - - - PEGGY ON THE ROAD - - - - - I - _The Break of a Lifetime_ - - -With a grateful sigh Peggy Lane lowered her aching feet into the -delicious warmth of a dishpan filled with hot water, bath crystals, and -Epsom salts. In other rooms exactly like hers throughout the big -brownstone house near New York’s Gramercy Park, half a dozen hopeful, -equally tired, but determined young girls about Peggy’s age were doing -the same thing. - -At the Gramercy Arms, a rooming house for young actresses in the middle -of Manhattan, this was a daily ritual known lightheartedly as the -“cocktail hour.” - -Peggy sighed a second time, wiggled her toes in the steamy water, and -flopped back on the studio couch. - -“What a life,” she murmured darkly. - -As if in answer to her complaint, the lights of New York began coming -on. One by one, they twinkled through her window, throwing a spangle of -diamonds across her dressing-table mirror. - -New York had been home for a year now, but the big city never failed to -thrill her—especially at dusk. Without taking her feet from the water, -Peggy turned to one side and gazed at a few faint tinges of red in the -west where the sunset was fighting a losing battle with the fabulous -illumination of the New York skyline. - -Propping a meditative chin in her hand, Peggy watched the magic -spectacle of Manhattan change gradually from a bustling city of towering -gray buildings and concrete canyons into the jeweled finery of a million -lights. It was like the shimmering moment in the fairy tale when the -drab little kitchen maid turns into a beautiful princess. Or at least -that was the way Peggy always thought of it. - -Once, when she was still new in New York, she had made the mistake of -trying to explain all this to a very serious young man who was a -second-year student at a nearby college. The young man had stared at her -uncomfortably for a moment, then changed the subject. But Peggy wasn’t -disturbed. She was fond of her own version, even though she knew it was -hopelessly romantic. - -Well, why not? Half-lying on the bed with her feet stuck into what was -now a lukewarm basin of water, she was convinced that she was right and -he was wrong. She thought of the young man’s earnest face and broke into -a grin. Despite herself she laughed out loud. - -The cheerful sound filled the darkening room. Paddling her feet happily -in the water, she threw her head back against the pillow and sighed a -third time. - -“What a life!” She breathed ecstatically. Suddenly full of vitality -again, she sat up and leveled a pair of clear hazel eyes over the city, -now throbbing with the muted sounds of early evening traffic. “New -York,” she announced in a grave voice to the open window and empty room, -“you don’t care about me right now. You’ve never even heard of me. But -some day you will. You’ll see!” - -It was quite a dramatic speech for her to make, but then Peggy Lane was -very young and very determined to become a great actress. - -Outside her window, the city took the news of Peggy’s intended conquest -calmly. Somewhere a lone taxicab gave a derisive toot on its horn as it -squealed to a stop to pick up a fare. Peggy mentally stuck out her -tongue at the driver and settled back to make plans for tomorrow. But -before she could get really comfortable, an enthusiastic spatter of -applause came from the doorway. - -“I declare, honey,” drawled a familiar voice, “that’s the prettiest -speech I ever did hear. You always talk to yourself in the dark like -that?” - -Light flooded the room, and Peggy saw her friend, Amy Shelby Preston, -framed in the door. Amy, a striking ash blonde and a product of Pine -Hollow, North Carolina, had been pulled to New York by the same magnet -that had drawn Peggy. The two girls had met on their first day in the -city, liked each other on sight, and decided to room together this year. - -Peggy struggled to a sitting position and blushed furiously. “I—I was -just going over some lines for a play,” she explained lamely. - -Amy flashed her a knowing smile as she went over to a tiny sink hidden -from the rest of the room by a Japanese screen. “What’s the name of the -play?” she asked. “_Stage-Struck?_” - -Peggy bunched up a throw pillow, but Amy raised her hands in surrender. -“Don’t shoot,” she pleaded. “You heave that thing at me and I’ll never -get up, I’m that tired.” - -Peggy hitched herself to the edge of the studio couch and began to towel -her legs vigorously. “You relax,” she ordered. “I’ll fix everything.” - -Amy collapsed wearily on the bed, content to watch Peggy wait on her. -“Well?” Peggy demanded eagerly. Amy had just finished a job filming a -television commercial for the Bob Jordan show. “Did you get to meet Bob -Jordan?” - -Amy threw back her head and laughed. “Bob Jordan’s already done the show -in Hollywood. It’s just the commercial they’re doing in New York.” - -“But doesn’t he want to see it?” Peggy asked as she poured bath crystals -into Amy’s dishpan. - -Amy shook her head. “Not this one. Even if he wanted to, he’d never be -able to find the studio.” Studio space in New York was at a premium, and -as a result, many television commercials were filmed in the most -unlikely places. - -Peggy laughed. “Where’d they do it?” - -“You won’t believe this,” Amy said wonderingly, “but I don’t know. I -couldn’t find it again for worlds. All I know is that I had to take a -subway for hours and then a bus till I got to the end of the line. -Finally I had to wait for a Transcontinental Broadcasting Company car to -pick me up and take me to something that looked like a converted garage -way out at the end of Brooklyn.” - -“I know the place,” Peggy interrupted. “That’s the Greenside Studio. I -did an audition there once. It’s a converted stable.” - -“It’s still a stable as far as I’m concerned,” Amy replied. She hugged -her arms closer to her body. “Brrr! Was it ever cold!” - -“Get into something warm,” Peggy urged. She looked at Amy critically. -“Why did you wear that thin dress? You know what those television -studios are like.” - -“It’s the best dress I own,” Amy said as she rummaged through her -closet. “I wanted to make an impression.” - -Peggy shook her head and tossed over a bulky woolen bathrobe. “Here, -take this,” she commanded. “It belongs to my cousin David, but I -borrowed it. And hurry up! I want to hear what happened.” - -“Well, that’s what I’m trying to tell you, honey,” Amy said as she -struggled out of her dress. “But you just won’t give me a chance.” - -Peggy sat down and tucked her legs under her. “All right, go on,” she -said patiently. “I’m listening.” - -“Well, first of all,” Amy said, poking a tentative foot into the dishpan -on the floor, “it was only a thirty-second commercial. My, that feels -good. I declare, I’m ten degrees warmer already.” She looked around -vaguely. “Now where was I....” - -“You were saying it was only a thirty-second spot.” - -“That’s right. With General Refrigerator sponsoring the Bob Jordan show, -I counted on having a couple of lines to say. Something like, ‘Oh, Edna! -I’ve got the most exciting news! General Refrigerators now come in a -whole sunburst of dreamy colors from pastel pink to leafy green!’” Amy -dropped the rapturous look on her face and stared solemnly over at -Peggy. “You know the kind of thing they make you say.” - -Peggy nodded wordlessly. - -“Anyway,” Amy went on, “soon as I got there, they sent me over to -make-up. I got in the chair, closed my eyes, and waited for them to put -cold cream over my face.” - -“Never mind that,” Peggy said, “get on with the rest of it!” - -“But that’s the important part!” Amy protested. “That’s when I knew it -was the beginning of the end!” - -“Goodness,” Peggy said. “It sounds serious. What happened when you had -your eyes closed?” - -“I heard somebody tell me to stick out my arm.” - -“What!” - -“It’s the living truth, honey. Honestly, I thought they were going to -give me a vaccination or something. But then the make-up girl rubbed -cream on my hand and took the polish off my fingernails. When she was -through, I asked if she wasn’t going to do anything else, and she said -no. She said I was ready to go on camera.” - -“But only your arm was made up?” - -Amy nodded emphatically. “Up to my elbow.” - -“Then what was your part in the commercial?” - -“A _hand_!” Amy wailed. She looked as though she were about to burst -into tears. “I played the part of a _hand_ on the Bob Jordan commercial. -All they wanted me to do was open the refrigerator door!” Amy thumped -the couch in frustration. “Here I thought they wanted an actress who -could read lines and all, and all they wanted was a hand! Why, anybody -with five fingers could have done it!” She paused and looked sheepishly -at Peggy. “Oh, Peggy, I’m so ashamed!” - -Peggy jumped up and went over to her roommate. “Whatever for?” she -asked. “It was just a job.” - -Amy shook her head and blinked. “You don’t understand—Oh, Peggy!” - -“Come on, now,” Peggy soothed. “Tell me the whole story.” - -Amy sat perfectly still for a moment, trying to fight back the tears. -Suddenly both tears and story came out in a rush. “When I first heard -about getting a part in the commercial”—Amy gulped—“I got all excited. I -wrote home and told Mama to watch me on the Bob Jordan show.” - -Suddenly Peggy understood. She knew Pine Hollow, North Carolina, was a -tiny place. Amy’s mother was almost sure to tell everyone about her -daughter’s big television debut. Next week at air time, half the -population would be glued in front of their sets, waiting to see Amy’s -face. - -“Everyone will be looking for me,” Amy went on mournfully. “And all -they’re going to see is my—my hand! What am I going to tell them?” - -“The truth,” Peggy said simply. - -Amy looked up in despair. “Oh, I couldn’t!” she breathed. “Mama would be -the laughingstock of Pine Hollow.” Another thought seemed to strike her. -“Oh, my goodness!” she wailed. - -“What’s the matter now?” - -“Daddy!” Amy cried, jumping to her feet. “What’s _he_ going to say? You -know Daddy wasn’t too keen on my coming to New York in the first place.” - -Peggy smiled, remembering the endless discussions that had gone on in -her own family. “Fathers are funny that way,” she observed. - -Amy threw her a trapped look. “You don’t have any idea! He’s always -thought my wanting to be an actress was silly. What’s he going to say -now?” - -An idea began working in Peggy’s mind. Grinning mischievously, she -scrambled to her feet and held out her hands. “Don’t tell me,” she -begged. “Let me guess.” Clasping her hands firmly behind her back, Peggy -started to pace back and forth. Her usually cheerful face was lined with -a severe scowl. - -Amy burst into laughter at the sight and collapsed back on top of her -bed. “Oh, Peggy! Daddy doesn’t look like that at all. He’s really much -nicer.” - -Peggy raised a hand threateningly. “Quiet!” she thundered in her best -imitation of a man’s voice. - -Amy subsided obediently. “Yes, sir,” she said meekly. - -Peggy cleared her throat and rumbled ahead. “This is disgraceful,” she -intoned. “Here my daughter has spent a year in New York. She’s gone to -dramatic school and she’s been in summer stock. What does she have to -show for it, eh? I ask you.” Peggy gave a fierce tug on an imaginary -mustache. “One year of solid work and the best she can do is to play the -part of a hand on a television commercial!” Peggy stomped down to the -far end of the room. “A hand!” She snorted. “If it’s taken her a year to -get her hand on a television show, how long d’you suppose it’ll take to -get the rest of her on? Eh? I ask you!” - -Peggy wanted to continue, but Amy was laughing too hard. “You’re almost -right.” Amy gasped between giggles. “Only he’d never come right out and -say it like that.” - -“Then why don’t you do it yourself?” Peggy cried gaily. - -“Me?” Amy seemed astonished by the idea. - -“Sure,” Peggy said eagerly. “Tell them exactly what happened, but treat -the whole thing as a joke. Get them on your side.” Peggy sat down beside -Amy and spoke seriously. “I really mean it, Amy,” she said. “If you -laugh about it, they will too. And besides,” she added, “they’ll admire -you for your determination.” - -Amy looked at her hopefully. “You think so?” - -“Of course,” Peggy assured her. - -Amy began giggling again. - -“Now what?” - -“I just thought of something Daddy once said to me. He said the -important thing was to get my foot in the door. Now I can tell him that -maybe I haven’t got my foot in yet, but at least my hand’s there.” - -The two girls laughed together. “That’s the spirit!” Peggy chuckled. -“Don’t give up the ship! That’ll be our motto!” - -“Rah! Rah! Rah!” Amy cheered, applauding excitedly. - -“Sssh!” Peggy cautioned. “We’re making too much noise.” - -“You sure are,” came a resonant voice from the door. “When does the -plane leave for Hollywood?” - -“Hollywood?” Amy asked blankly, whirling around to stare at the -commanding figure before her. - -May Berriman closed the door and advanced into the room. Years ago, May -had been a successful character actress on Broadway, but when she had -left the stage she had taken over the management of the Gramercy Arms. -The girls who stayed at the Gramercy Arms were, for the most part, -struggling young actresses like Peggy and Amy. With her wide knowledge -of the theater and her vast common sense, May was more than just a -landlady to “her girls.” She was almost a second mother to them, -presiding over their hopes and fears, their triumphs and failures, their -good times and their squabbles with an even-handed justice that combined -equal doses of a sharp tongue and a soft heart. - -May picked her way through the clutter of the girls’ room and sat down -on Peggy’s bed. Peggy never tired of watching May’s movements. They were -so unconsciously graceful, so sure and poised. They were, Peggy knew, -the result of years of training and hard, disciplined work. - -“Of course,” May was saying to Amy, “from the hall you two sounded like -the cheering section at a football game. I couldn’t imagine what had -happened. I was sure it was a Hollywood screen test at the very least.” - -“Not yet.” Peggy smiled. “That’s a long way off.” - -Amy looked out the window dreamily. “You never can tell,” she said -hopefully. “Why, the phone could ring any minute!” She turned to May for -support. “Isn’t that true?” she demanded. “A big producer can see you -one day and the next day you’re out in Hollywood. It happens all the -time.” - -“Only in your imagination, dear,” May said dryly. “I’d advise you not to -hold your breath until that phone call comes. Oh, by the way,” she -added, turning to Peggy, “somebody tried to get you about an hour ago.” - -Peggy straightened up. “Was there a message?” she asked. - -May shook her head. “No message, but she left a name.” - -“Oh. A she?” - -An amused smile softened May’s face. “I hope it’s not too much of a -shock. It was a girl named Pam Mundy. She said she knew you from summer -stock.” - -“Pam!” Peggy cried excitedly. “I had no idea she was in New York. What -fun! Is she going to call back?” - -“She said she’d get in touch with you this evening. Is she an actress?” - -“Not really,” Peggy said. “She’s more interested in the production end. -She saw some of our shows up at Lake Kenabeek last summer, and often -discussed the problems with Richard Wallace, our producer.” - -“A lady producer!” Amy exclaimed in surprise. “I thought all producers -were men.” - -“Most of them are,” May said. “But there’s no law against a girl trying -it.” - -“Maybe she’s doing a show,” Amy cried suddenly, “and she’s got a part in -it for you.” - -Before Peggy could answer, the buzzer over their door let out a squawk. -“Telephone!” Amy breathed, hurling herself at the door. “Who’s it for?” -she yelled down the hall. Each floor of the Gramercy Arms was serviced -by a single telephone shared by all the girls on the floor. - -“For Peggy!” came the answer. “It’s a man!” - -“Well, at least we know it isn’t Pam Mundy,” Peggy said, as she drew on -her bathrobe. - -“It’s probably Randy,” Amy said. - -Peggy nodded and disappeared into the corridor. Randy was Randolph Clark -Brewster. Peggy had met him when she first came to New York and had been -seeing him ever since. In the early days he had more or less taken her -under his wing and had guided her first faltering steps in that actor’s -nightmare known as “the rounds.” - -Doing the rounds meant mapping out a systematic campaign of personally -seeing every producer, actor’s agent, and casting director in town. It -was tedious, foot-wearying work, but it was necessary. Peggy learned -soon enough that you couldn’t simply send a picture and a note, and then -sit back, and expect the calls to come in. You had to keep knocking on -doors, reminding people of your existence, hoping that sooner or later -somebody would remember you and say, “Why don’t we try that girl who was -in here this morning? She might be right for the part.” - -She still remembered the morning she had made her first rounds with -Randy. They had agreed to meet outside the Gramercy Arms at -eight-thirty. Right on the dot, she saw Randy’s tall, lanky figure swing -along the sidewalk, move toward her, and stop in undisguised dismay. - -In her eagerness to make a good impression, Peggy had put on a dress -that was far too sophisticated for her. She had plastered make-up all -over her face, complete with mascara, and covered her eyelids with a -heavy film of dark green, which she fancied went well with her coloring -and dark chestnut hair. - -Randy took one look and shook his head. “No, Peggy. That won’t do at -all,” he had said gently. - -“Why not?” Peggy had replied. “You said the important thing was for them -to notice me.” - -Randy tried to cover up a grin by rubbing a hand over his jaw. “They’ll -notice you all right,” he said. “In fact, they’ll never forget you.” He -took her hand and led her up the steep steps of the brownstone house. -“Let’s go inside and sit down awhile,” he suggested. - -Peggy followed him obediently to the tiny sitting room off the entrance -hall. She listened carefully as Randy told her how important it was to -let her fresh young beauty speak for itself. He explained that she was -not yet ready to play sophisticated, older women, and that it was -useless to try. He got her to go upstairs, rub off the make-up, and -change into a simpler dress. At first Peggy had been furious, but later -she learned that he was right. - -Now Peggy hurried eagerly down the corridor. It would be good to talk to -Randy again. She picked up the telephone. “Hello.” - -A man’s voice came from the other end. It wasn’t Randy. “Hello. Is this -Miss Peggy Lane?” - -“Speaking.” - -“My name is Peter Grey. I’m with the Oscar Stalkey office. Miss Pam -Mundy suggested I give you a ring.” - -Peggy caught her breath. Oscar Stalkey was one of the biggest producers -in New York. His new play, _Innocent Laughter_, had opened to rave -reviews a few weeks earlier. Already it was impossible to get tickets. -Everyone in New York wanted to see it. - -“Yes?” Peggy answered in a shaking voice. - -“Well, it’s quite simple, really.” The voice went on in a matter-of-fact -tone. “We’re getting ready to cast the road companies of _Innocent -Laughter_, and Miss Mundy suggested you for a general understudy. -There’d also be a small speaking part. It’s a national tour and you’d be -expected to sign for a minimum of six months. Will you be available?” - -For a moment Peggy couldn’t speak. She just sat and stared helplessly at -the telephone two inches from her nose. - -“Hello, hello?” came the voice from the other end. “Are you still -there?” - -“Yes,” Peggy said in a voice she didn’t recognize. - -“We’re trying out a number of people tomorrow. Can you be at the Stalkey -office at ten?” - -“At ten,” Peggy repeated mechanically. - -“Yes. Then we can expect you?” - -“Oh, yes,” Peggy said. “I’ll—I’ll be there.” - -“Thanks. Good-by.” - -The phone went dead in her hand. It took Peggy several seconds to lift -the receiver back into its cradle. - -“_Innocent Laughter!_” she murmured to herself. “Me, in _Innocent -Laughter_!” Suddenly she couldn’t stand it another minute. She raced -back to her room at the far end of the hall, laughing as she ran. If she -could land the part, it was the break of a lifetime! - - - - - II - Katherine Nelson - - -It took a touch of May’s common sense to bring Peggy back to reality. -“You don’t have the part yet,” she cautioned. “So don’t count on it.” - -“Oh, but, May,” Amy protested, “why else would they call her? I’m sure -Peggy’s got it.” - -“Did he come right out and make you an offer?” May asked. - -“No,” Peggy admitted. “He said they were interviewing a number of girls -tomorrow. That’s all.” - -“Well, then,” May said. “You see?” - -“I don’t care,” Amy declared stoutly. “This it still the biggest break -either one of us has had in a year.” - -“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” May said. “I’m just trying to get Peggy to -realize what she’s up against. Nobody’s going to hand her that part on a -silver platter. She’s got to go in there tomorrow and earn it.” - -Peggy moved nervously to the window and pulled back the curtain. “If -only I knew a little more about the play,” she murmured. “I don’t even -know what kind of a part I’m supposed to try out for.” She walked over -to her bed and sat down despairingly. “I should have asked when I had -the chance, but I guess I was too excited. I didn’t even think!” - -“Now, now,” May said soothingly. “Don’t work yourself up into a fit. How -much do you know about _Innocent Laughter_?” - -“Nothing,” Peggy said dispiritedly. “Absolutely nothing except that it’s -the biggest hit of the season.” - -“What time is it?” Amy cried suddenly. “Maybe we could see it tonight!” - -“Not a chance,” May said emphatically. “You wouldn’t be able to get -tickets.” - -“Standing room?” Amy suggested hopefully. - -May looked at her watch and shook her head. “Too late.” - -“Oh dear!” Peggy started to get up, but May pushed her firmly back down -on the studio couch. - -“You sit down, young lady,” she ordered. “There’s no point in worrying -about something you can’t help. Besides, I think I can give you some -idea of the play.” - -“You can?” Peggy cried eagerly. “Oh, May, you’re an angel!” - -“Flattery will get you nowhere,” May said. “Just sit back and listen.” -Peggy and Amy settled down obediently and waited. - -“First of all,” May began, “_Innocent Laughter_ has only four parts for -women.” She ticked them off one by one. “There’s the lead, a brilliantly -successful career woman living in New York, who decides one day to try -to recapture her youth. Then there’s a wonderful part—the woman’s -mother, a shrewd old gal who’s made a fortune in real estate out West, -and who hasn’t seen her daughter in years. The third big part is the -career woman’s daughter. She’s a young girl who’s been sent to finishing -school in Europe, and hasn’t seen _her_ mother in years, except for -brief vacations.” May looked around inquiringly. “All clear so far?” - -“You mean there are three generations—the grandmother, the mother, and -the daughter?” Amy asked. - -May nodded. “You’ve got the picture.” - -“What happened to all the men?” Peggy asked. - -“Ah, now we’re getting to it,” May said. “The grandfather—that’s the old -gal’s husband—disappeared years ago. He left home because he said he -couldn’t stand his wife’s domineering ways. The mother’s husband is -dead, and the daughter, of course, doesn’t have any husband yet.” - -“How about the story?” Amy demanded. “What’s that all about?” - -“The situation is simple,” May explained. “The three generations meet in -New York. The grandmother wants a last fling. She’s after good times and -plenty of them. The mother, as I’ve said, is trying to find romance -again.” - -“And the young daughter?” Amy asked. - -May shrugged. “The daughter isn’t sure what she wants. She’s in a sort -of experimental mood about life. Very young, very sweet, and full of -vitality.” - -“What happens after they all get together?” Amy asked. - -“Oh, they make a mess of everything,” May said. “Things go from bad to -worse until suddenly, out of the blue, who should turn up but the -grandfather!” - -“The one who disappeared years ago!” Amy said. - -“Right,” said May. - -“What’s he been doing all those years?” - -“Oh, this and that,” May replied airily. “He’s been knocking around the -world a good deal and making a lot of money. Anyway, he walks in on the -three women and takes over. He straightens out the mother’s life, saves -the young daughter from marrying a dull man, and makes his wife fall in -love with him all over again.” - -“It sounds like a great part,” Peggy remarked. - -“Doesn’t it?” May agreed. “Anyway, that’s about all there is to it. Not -a second _Hamlet_, I’ll admit, but a good, solid comedy.” - -“Wait a minute,” Amy interrupted. “You’ve only mentioned three women. -Who’s the fourth?” - -“A tiny part,” May said. “A schoolgirl friend of the young daughter. She -appears in one scene in the first act.” - -“And that’s Peggy?” Amy asked. - -May nodded. “Probably. That and understudying the daughter.” - -Amy sighed. “Oh my,” she said. “Wouldn’t you just love to play the -daughter?” - -“Stop dreaming,” May counseled. “Oscar Stalkey couldn’t afford to take a -chance with an unknown in a part like that.” May turned and walked over -to Peggy. “Now look, Peggy,” she said in a quiet, reassuring voice, -“when you walk into that office tomorrow, don’t try to pretend you’re an -experienced actress. Oscar Stalkey’s been around a long time and he’d be -able to see right through your pose.” - -The older woman sat down and folded her hand over Peggy’s. “Do you -remember that time when Randy told you to be yourself and not try to act -as if you were ten years older?” - -Peggy smiled and nodded. - -“It was the best advice you could get,” May went on. “If you follow it -tomorrow, the rest will take care of itself. You’re a good actress, -Peggy. You have a lot of promise. He’ll be able to see that.” May got up -slowly and drifted over to the window. “I used to know Oscar Stalkey -pretty well,” she said. “He’s a strange mixture of a hard-boiled -Broadway producer and a sentimental little boy. He’s been in show -business over thirty years, and he still thinks the theater is the most -wonderful thing in the world.” - -“So do I!” Peggy breathed. - -May turned and smiled. “Good. Then you two ought to get along -beautifully. Now,” she said, moving to the door in a brisk, businesslike -manner, “have you had dinner yet?” - -“Oh, no, May!” Peggy pleaded. “I’m too excited. I couldn’t eat a bite.” - -May’s smile vanished. She pointed to the door commandingly. “Out you -go,” she said. “We can’t have you meeting Oscar Stalkey looking pale and -haggard. The program for the rest of the evening includes a good dinner, -a long hot bath, and early to bed.” May paused and advanced a step -toward Peggy. “And try not to worry too much.” - -Peggy smiled and nodded. “All right,” she said. “I’ll try.” - -“Good. When you push open the door of Oscar Stalkey’s office tomorrow, I -want you to look like a million dollars—rested and confident you’re -going to get the part.” - - -At precisely ten o’clock the following morning, Peggy Lane stood before -the plain frosted-glass door of Oscar Stalkey’s office, feeling rested, -alert—but not at all sure of herself. In fact, what she felt was dread. -It was exactly like the time when she was seven years old, and had to -appear in the school Christmas pageant as one of the angels who led the -shepherds to the manger. She still remembered her two lines: “This is -the place. See how the roof is bathed by the light of yonder star.” -Chattering with the cold, her throat all lumpy with fear, and lonelier -than she had ever been in her life, she had waited in the wings for the -words that would bring her out on the stage. She had been sure she would -forget everything. Now she remembered what it had been like when at last -she had stepped into the brilliant warmth of the stage, sensing the -audience out front and the magic of the set behind her. She had read her -lines beautifully, and only regretted that she didn’t have more of them. -At that moment, Peggy had decided to become an actress. That was a long -time ago. Smiling at the memory, she took a final breath and pushed -against the door. - -She stopped on the threshold in numbed surprise. - -Dozens of eyes swiveled around at her entrance. On all sides, the tiny -reception room was lined with young girls. There were tall, beautiful -girls with sleek hairdos and shiny patent leather hatboxes by their -sides. There were heavily made up girls whose eyes glittered coldly as -they surveyed the newcomer. There were a few girls she recognized. -Nobody was happy to see her. - -Peggy knew that this was the fierce competition of the theater. It was -part of the price you had to pay if you wanted to come to New York. -Tilting her chin defiantly, Peggy closed the door and went over to a -peroxide blonde who sat listlessly behind a desk. The blonde reached out -a hand for a sheet of paper. - -“Name?” she inquired in a bored voice. “Mr. Stalkey’s interviewing by -appointment only.” - -“Lane,” Peggy replied in a clear voice. “Peggy Lane.” - -The blonde ran a bright red fingernail down a list of names and stopped -about halfway. “Who sentcha?” she drawled with quick suspicion. - -Peggy frowned. “I don’t ... what do you mean?” she stammered. - -The blonde pursed her mouth in disapproval. “What I’m trying to find -out, dearie,” she said in a voice edged with the patient annoyance of -someone talking to a retarded child, “is how come you’re here. Who made -the appointment for you?” - -Light dawned. “Oh! Mr. Grey. Mr. Peter Grey.” - -The answer seemed to satisfy. “Okay.” The receptionist dismissed Peggy -with a wave. “Find a seat.” She returned to the magazine she had been -reading. - -Still feeling ill at ease, Peggy backed away from the desk and looked -around for a place to sit down. The chairs along one wall were all -filled. Opposite them there was a bench with just enough room if one of -the girls would move over. Nobody budged an inch. The silence was -oppressive. - -Suddenly making up her mind she was not going to stand around awkwardly, -Peggy moved over to the bench and planted herself in front of the small -space. - -“Excuse me,” she said in her sweetest voice, “would you mind moving -over?” - -The girl who filled the spot Peggy wanted drew herself up in an -exaggerated shrug and slowly opened a space. - -“Thank you,” Peggy said as she sat down. Her neighbor didn’t even bother -to glance in her direction. - -The silence continued. - -Suddenly from behind the closed door that led into what Peggy assumed -was Stalkey’s private office, she could hear voices. There was a -high-pitched burst, then a deeper rumbling answer. A woman and a man -arguing, Peggy thought. A third voice cut in, a resonant baritone. Two -men and a woman. - -There was a scream from the other room, followed by a crash, and the -woman’s voice shouting, “No! No! No!” - -“None of that now,” thundered the first man’s voice. “I’m sick and tired -of your childish temper tantrums.” - -“Temper tantrums!” came a screech. “How else can I act when you simply -refuse to listen to reason?” - -“Oh, come off it, Katherine!” the second man said. “Act your age.” - -There was a stunned silence during which Peggy had a chance to look -around. Every girl in the reception room had her eyes glued to the door. -An air of excited expectancy hung over the office. Even the blond -receptionist had put aside her magazine in favor of the real-life drama -going on in the next room. - -Peggy heard the door bang open, and turning, saw before her one of the -great figures of the American stage. Katherine Nelson, a portrait of -elegance, stood framed in the doorway. - -[Illustration: _Katherine Nelson had been world famous for many years._] - -Katherine Nelson. Everyone knew of Katherine Nelson. She had been -world-famous for many years, at the very top of her profession. But -suddenly, about five years ago—nobody knew why—she had begun to slip. -For some reason, she chose her plays badly, and where once she had known -nothing but success, she had had to face the humiliation of failure. It -had been a long time since she had been on a stage in New York, or -anywhere else for that matter. She still had her great name, of course. -Katherine Nelson would always be a magnet, but there was no denying that -as a star she was fading. Other, younger actresses were moving up to -take the roles that would automatically have been hers a few years ago. - -It was well known that Katherine Nelson did not wear her years -gracefully. References to age sent her into towering rages that were the -delight of all gossip columnists, and the despair of those who had to -work with her. She stood now, not ten feet from Peggy, her magnificent -eyes flashing daggers. At first, Peggy felt a thrill at being so near a -famous person, but surprisingly that passed almost at once. Instead of -staring at her face, Peggy caught herself looking at Katherine Nelson’s -hands as they gripped the door. - -They were like claws, Peggy thought. They were the hands of an old -woman. With a start, Peggy realized that despite her youthful figure and -carefully made-up face, Katherine Nelson could no longer play romantic -parts. - -All this passed through Peggy’s mind in a flash, before her train of -thought was evaporated by a throaty voice that rolled out in accents of -anger. - -“You’ll remember whom you’re talking to, Oscar Stalkey! There’s only one -Katherine Nelson in the theater, and if you’re not aware of it, there -are hundreds and thousands of people who are. People who are prepared to -stand in line all night, if necessary, to get tickets to my plays. When -you’ve thought _that_ over and are willing to discuss matters more -intelligently, you may call me!” - -Shrugging into a magnificent silk-and-fur coat, Katherine Nelson swept -down between the two lines of awed young girls, exactly as if she were -making a grand exit from a stage. As a matter of fact, this was just -what she _was_ doing. It would have been effective, too, except for one -thing. Katherine Nelson had a toy poodle on a leash, and the little dog -took a sudden playful liking to Peggy. - -As his mistress passed Peggy, the tiny poodle wagged his tail and -trotted over. The unexpected shift in course forced Katherine Nelson to -stop. Frowning with annoyance, she yanked at the dog’s leash. But -instead of following obediently, the poodle gave a couple of shrill yips -and scrambled up on Peggy’s lap. - -Blushing with embarrassment, Peggy tried to get up and dislodge the -animal. “Down, boy,” Peggy commanded, making a wild grab for her purse -which was slipping to the floor. - -The next instant, leash, purse, Peggy, and the poodle were hopelessly -entangled. Peggy sensed a commanding figure hovering nearby. Katherine -Nelson was staring down at her in blazing fury. - -Peggy attempted an apologetic laugh as she tried desperately to -straighten out the mess at her feet. Finally she got everything sorted -out and handed over the friendly poodle. - -“I’m sorry,” Peggy said with a smile, offering the dog. “We sort of got -mixed up.” - -Katherine Nelson jerked the poodle out of Peggy’s hands rudely. “Clumsy -idiot!” she muttered. Spots of dull red showed in her face. - -Peggy felt herself coloring too, but for a different reason. “I really -didn’t—” she stammered. “I’m awfully—” - -“Will you get out of my way?” Katherine Nelson blazed. - -Peggy backed away hastily, catching her heel against the side of the -bench as she moved. She flailed the air clumsily to keep from falling, -then sat down heavily. Her purse slipped to the floor again. - -Katherine Nelson threw her a disdainful look, swept on through the -reception room, and out the door. - -Peggy had never been so embarrassed in her life. She knew that every -girl in the room was laughing at her predicament. She only hoped that -Oscar Stalkey hadn’t noticed. But when she stole a quick, shy glance at -the door, she saw a short, bald man staring at her owlishly through -heavy, horn-rimmed glasses. A cold cigar was clenched between his teeth. -Peggy recognized him at once from his pictures. It was Oscar Stalkey. -With a sinking heart, she realized numbly that she was ruined before she -even started. She had made a perfect fool of herself, and there wasn’t -any point in staying. - -Staring straight ahead, Peggy got to her feet and headed for the door. -The walk seemed endless. She was about halfway there when a deep voice -growled out. - -“Hey! Where are you going?” - -Peggy stopped and turned slowly, her eyes widening in surprise. - -Oscar Stalkey was still standing in the doorway, but now he was pointing -a finger in her direction. “Come in here,” he said. “I want to talk to -you.” - -There were gasps of surprise from the other girls. Peggy swallowed once -and pointed to herself. “Me?” she asked in a voice that cracked. - -“Well, who’d you think I meant?” came the gruff answer. “Come in. I -haven’t got all day.” He stepped aside and motioned her to hurry. - -Still unable to believe what was happening, Peggy followed Oscar Stalkey -blindly into his office. - - - - - III - The Inner Sanctum - - -Four people were grouped in the office. There was Stalkey himself, -heavy-set and dynamic, hovering impatiently by the door. Behind him in a -corner lounged a rather disheveled man in his mid-forties who looked -vaguely familiar. A young man in his twenties, with a collegiate crew -cut, stood by the window. Beside him, behind the largest desk Peggy had -ever seen, sat Pam Mundy—the girl she had met during the summer. - -Pam seemed even more surprised than Peggy. Her eyebrows shot up in twin -crescents of astonishment at the sight of her friend coming through the -door. But she quickly regained her composure and threw Peggy a -reassuring smile and wink. - -Anyone seeing Pam perched behind the massive desk would have thought she -was the most important person in the room. Actually, she was Oscar -Stalkey’s secretary, using his desk because the veteran producer seldom -sat in a chair if he could avoid it. All his business was conducted on -the run, in a restless course of constant pacing that was a little hard -to get accustomed to. The only reason he tolerated the desk at all was -because his wife had given it to him as a surprise years ago, and he -could never bring himself to get rid of it. But at the time, Peggy -didn’t know this. She advanced into the room and looked around -uncertainly. - -The untidy man in the corner unwound his long legs from one side of his -lounge chair, and stared at Peggy with undisguised interest. The young -man by the window straightened up and greeted her with a pleasant smile. - -“Well, sit down, sit down,” came the gravelly voice of Stalkey. “What’s -your name?” - -“Peggy Lane.” Peggy sat down on the edge of a chair near the desk. - -“Had much experience?” Stalkey was prowling along a row of bookcases -that lined the far wall of his office. - -There was a pause. Finally Peggy decided to be straightforward. “No, Mr. -Stalkey,” she replied with a smile. “I’m afraid not much. A year of -dramatic school, a season of summer stock, a good off-Broadway role, and -a few walk-on parts.” - -“That’s all?” - -Peggy nodded. The rumpled man in the corner looked at her with surprise. -Stalkey merely grunted. “How’d you get on our list for an appointment?” - -Peggy glanced over at Pam. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I got a phone call -last night from a Mr. Grey.” - -The young man at the window nodded. “I’m Peter Grey,” he announced. “I -got in touch with her, Oscar.” - -“Why?” - -“Pam Mundy suggested it.” - -All attention was now focused on the girl behind the desk. Pam took the -stares in stride. “I saw Peggy in stock last summer,” she explained. -“I’ve seen what she can do, and I thought she might be right for the -understudy.” - -Oscar Stalkey grunted a second time and padded over to the figure in the -chair. “What do you think, Craig?” he asked suddenly. - -Craig Claiborne! Peggy finally recognized him. He was the director of -_Innocent Laughter_ and would probably perform a similar job for the -road company productions. - -Claiborne shrugged noncommittally. “You were the one who asked her to -come in,” he said. “What do you think?” - -“Well, at least she’s honest,” Stalkey grumbled as he shuffled off to -continue his endless pacing. He stopped and glared accusingly at Peggy. -“You’ve no idea,” he said mournfully, “how many girls try to tell me -they’ve had years of experience.” He threw up his hands in exasperation. -“They have the nerve—some of them—to stand up and tell me they’ve been -acting for twenty years when I know perfectly well they can’t be more -than eighteen years old. Oh, well—” He broke off abruptly and moved over -to a position in front of Peggy. “The reason I asked you to step in -here,” he said, “was because you looked like the most human person out -there.” He gestured to the reception room in disgust. “That’s the -biggest collection of artificial people I’ve seen in months. Where do -the casting agents dig them up?” He sighed and went on. “There was -something about your embarrassment when you had that run-in with -Katherine—” - -Craig Claiborne interrupted with a chuckle. “Don’t tell me she tangled -with Katherine the Great?” he asked. - -“Tangled is the word,” Stalkey said happily. “Peggy here ruined -Katherine’s exit.” - -Claiborne shook his head in mock dismay. “Oh, oh.” - -“That’s right.” Stalkey nodded. He turned back to Peggy. “Tell me -frankly. You didn’t know what to do when that happened, now did you?” - -Peggy smiled. “No, I didn’t. I was a little frightened and terribly -embarrassed.” - -“And a little awed, too?” Stalkey asked, almost eagerly. - -“Yes,” Peggy admitted. “I guess I was.” - -The producer rubbed his hands together with pleasure. “And that,” he -said exuberantly, “is exactly the quality we want for the young -schoolgirl friend in _Innocent Laughter_. The only question is, are you -good enough to play the daughter—even as an understudy?” Stalkey looked -at Peggy searchingly, almost as if a careful examination of her face -could reveal the extent of her talent. - -It was an impossible question to answer. Peggy was saved from trying by -a telephone that jangled suddenly. - -Pam swooped down on it. “Yes?” she said crisply. “Who’s calling?” She -listened for a moment, then covered the mouthpiece with one hand. “It’s -Max Borden from Talent Incorporated,” she said. “Do you want to speak to -him?” - -Stalkey nodded wordlessly, and lunged for the phone. “Hello,” he rasped, -“Max?” He began to move agitatedly back and forth across the room, -cradling the telephone in his left hand. “Did you get him?” he asked -eagerly. - -There was a pause, and a look of frustration crossed Stalkey’s face. -“Well, can’t he get out of his contract?” he said. “Yeah, well, I’m -sorry too.” Another pause. Stalkey used it to shift his cigar over to -the other side of his mouth. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Yeah, I know. No, I -don’t have the faintest idea. Think about it and call me back. If we get -any brain waves here at our end we’ll let you know. G’by.” He hung up -the receiver and stared moodily at the telephone as if it had done him -some personal injury. - -“Charlie Forsythe can’t play the part,” he announced. “He’s tied up with -a movie contract.” - -Charles Forsythe, Peggy knew, was one of the outstanding character -actors in America. Stalkey must have been trying to get him for the role -of the grandfather in _Innocent Laughter_. For the first time, she -realized it wasn’t always too easy to cast a play. - -Oscar Stalkey apparently had forgotten Peggy’s existence. “Any ideas?” -he rapped out. “We’ve got to settle this in the next few days.” - -“What about Eddie Jarmin?” Craig Claiborne suggested. “I remember he did -something similar in _Bed of Roses_ a couple of years back.” - -“Yeah,” Stalkey said unenthusiastically. “He sure did and was he -terrible! No, thanks!” - -“There’s always James Donohue,” Claiborne said. - -“Yes, there is,” Stalkey admitted. “When he remembers to show up for -rehearsal.” He trotted over to the other side of the room in a burst of -agitation. - -“Why is it,” he said to no one in particular, “that good, dependable -character actors are so hard to come by? I can reach out and put my hand -on half a hundred leading men and a thousand juveniles. But a character -actor!” He shook his head helplessly. “Oh, well....” - -Over by the window Peter Grey stirred restlessly. “You know,” he said -with an almost apologetic laugh, “you may think I’m crazy, but I’ve got -an idea.” - -“Let’s have it,” Stalkey shot back. - -Peter advanced toward the center of the room, speaking with mounting -excitement. “What we want,” he said, “is a man with a sure sense of -comedy. Somebody with a breezy style and a good ear for laugh lines. But -even more than that, he’s got to be able to move the audience. There’s -that big scene with the daughter, for instance. That’s got to be done -beautifully, with a great deal of tenderness.” - -Stalkey snapped his fingers impatiently. “Sure, sure,” he said. “We know -all that. But I’ll settle for someone who can get us the laughs.” - -“Why not get somebody who can do both?” - -Stalkey snorted. “Stop dreaming,” he said. “They don’t make them like -that any more.” - -“There’s one person who just might be able to do it,” Peter said slowly. -“If we can get him.” - -“Who?” - -Peter grinned. “This is the crazy part,” he said. He paused as the -others waited expectantly. “Tom Agate,” he finally blurted out. - -“Tom Agate!” Craig Claiborne said in a puzzled voice. “Isn’t he dead?” - -Peter scratched the back of his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “The -last I heard he was still living here.” - -“Tom Agate,” Oscar Stalkey murmured slowly. “Tom Agate.” He spoke the -name a second time as if relishing the sound, then looked up at Peter -sharply. “How do you know about Tom Agate?” he demanded. “I thought only -us old-timers remembered him.” - -Peter laughed. “Oh, I used to be crazy about him. My father took me to -see Tom Agate every time he played a USO show anywhere near where my -father was stationed during World War II.” - -“Who,” Pam asked almost shyly, “is Tom Agate?” - -Oscar Stalkey waved a hand in Pam’s direction. “You see?” he demanded -with a wry smile. “There’s fame for you, Tom Agate,” he said, turning to -Pam, “was just about the most famous song-and-dance man in vaudeville. -You’ve heard stories about the good old days in the theater—about the -grand troupers who always went on to give a performance no matter how -they were feeling—” - -Peter put his hand over his heart melodramatically. “Even if they were -crying inside.” - -Stalkey nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. It sounds real corny today, but they -actually did it, and Tom Agate was one of the greatest.” As he walked -back and forth, from one corner of the room to the other, his eyes -shining with excitement, Peggy suddenly saw what May Berriman meant when -she said that Oscar Stalkey had all the enthusiasm of a little boy. He -was in love with the theater, after thirty years still as stage-struck -as a newcomer. - -“Tom Agate,” Oscar Stalkey was saying. “Why, I’ve seen that man hold an -entire audience in the palm of his hand for more than an hour.” - -“What did he do?” Pam asked. - -“Do?” Stalkey frowned. “He was a performer. He sang songs, danced a -little.” - -“Actually, he danced badly,” Peter Grey said with a smile. - -Stalkey was forced to agree. “Yes, I guess he did. But that didn’t make -any difference. He was a personality and the audience loved him.” -Stalkey made another tour of his office. “That was his secret,” he said. -“He understood people. He knew what made them laugh, and he knew how to -move them.” Stalkey stopped abruptly as if struck by a thought. He -cocked his head to one side as if trying to recall something. “What was -the name of that song he always sang—it was his theme song, an Irish -ballad, I think—ah, yes, ‘Kathleen Aroon’ it was. He used to play the -banjo along with it.” - -“Yes, but Oscar,” Craig Claiborne objected, “he was just a -song-and-dance man. Even the movies he did were just filming his -vaudeville routines. He’s never had any acting experience.” - -“Acting experience, my foot!” Stalkey said. “What the dickens does that -mean? The man’s been on the stage for most of his life!” - -“You’ve got to admit,” Claiborne replied patiently, “that playing a -sustained role is a lot different from coming out for a few minutes -every night with a song or two and some jokes.” - -“Oh, I know, I know.” Stalkey brushed him away. “You may be right. But I -still think it’s worth a chance. I’d like to hear him read for the -part.” - -“I don’t know,” Claiborne said dubiously. “It’s taking a big chance.” - -“Not as much as you think,” Stalkey said earnestly. “Besides, I bet -there are people all over this country who still remember Tom Agate and -would come to see him. His old vaudeville admirers, his movie and radio -audiences, the men he entertained during the war. He might be quite a -drawing card.” He hopped over to Peter and clapped him on the back. - -“Peter,” he chortled, “I think you’ve hit it.” - -“If you can find him,” Claiborne added. - -Stalkey nodded. “Do you think you can track him down?” he asked Peter -anxiously. - -Peter shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’ll certainly try.” - -“You’ll have to locate him within the next three days,” Stalkey warned. - -“Meanwhile,” Claiborne said, “we’d better contact Eddie Jarmin or Jim -Donohue. If this Agate fellow doesn’t pan out, we’ll have to fall back -on one of them.” - -“Yes, I suppose so,” Stalkey said mournfully. “Will you see to it, Pam?” - -Pam made a note of the request and then cleared her throat. “There’s -another matter you’ve got to attend to,” she said. - -Stalkey stopped in surprise. “What’s that?” - -Pam pointed to the door. “You’ve got about two dozen young ladies -cooling their heels out there. Don’t you think you’d better see them?” - -Stalkey clapped his hand over his forehead. “What a waste of time!” he -groaned. He turned and walked over to the door. - -“Wait a minute,” Pam called out. “What about Peggy Lane?” - -Stalkey stopped and looked at Peggy for the first time since the phone -call. “Oh,” he said, blinking at her as if she were a complete stranger. -“Oh, well, tomorrow morning, then,” he said airily. - -“For what?” Peggy asked timidly. - -Stalkey wrung his hands impatiently. “For what?” he muttered. “To read, -of course,” he said. “We want you to read for the general understudy.” -He glanced over at Claiborne. “What time are we holding tryouts?” he -asked. - -“Nine-thirty,” the director answered. - -“Nine-thirty,” Stalkey said. “Be at the Elgin Theater at nine-thirty -tomorrow morning to read a scene from _Innocent Laughter_. Is that -clear?” - -Peggy nodded numbly. “Yes, sir,” she said. - -“Good.” Stalkey went over to the door and threw it open. “Thank you very -much,” he said briskly. “That’ll be all for now.” - -Peggy gathered her purse and gloves, made her way unsteadily to the -door, passed down a double line of curious, envying stares, and finally -found herself outside by the elevator door. As she waited for it, she -wondered if she could get back to the Gramercy Arms without screaming -for joy. She had passed the first test. - - - - - IV - “Innocent Laughter” - - -“Ground floor.” - -The elevator bumped to a halt and discharged its load of passengers into -the busy lobby. Still numb from the half hour she had spent in Oscar -Stalkey’s office, Peggy allowed herself to be pulled along by the crowd -that surged toward the building entrance. - -The big clock above the main doors registered a little after eleven—too -early for lunch and too late to make any more appointments for the -morning. Peggy idly wondered what to do next. Her first impulse had been -to go directly to the Gramercy Arms with the news. But Amy was out and -May was probably busy. Besides, at eleven o’clock on a weekday morning, -the big house would be almost deserted. The girls nearly all were on -jobs or were out busily hunting them. - -Suddenly, Peggy felt strangely lonely. The need for someone to talk to -became overwhelming. She paused by the public telephone booths near the -revolving door and thought of calling home to Rockport, Wisconsin. She -could almost hear her mother at the other end of the line, excited and -happy to hear the good news. It would be good to hear her familiar voice -again. - -On the other hand, wasn’t it silly to call now before she really knew -about the part? Wouldn’t it be better to wait until she was sure and not -make the same mistake Amy had made with her mother? - -Peggy was still standing indecisively beside the telephone booth when -the elevator behind her clanged open to release a second wave of people. -The flood engulfed her and flowed on to the door. - -“Watch it, lady,” growled an irritated voice. “You’re blocking the -road.” - -Hastily Peggy moved out of the way. “Sorry,” she said, backing into a -delivery boy on his way into the building with a full load of packages. - -“Why don’tcha look where yer going?” the delivery boy muttered, glaring -balefully at her over the top of his packages. - -“Sorry,” Peggy murmured again. She decided she’d better get out of the -line of traffic, but as she turned toward one of the side doors, a hand -reached out and held her back. - -“Excuse me,” said a familiar voice, “but can you use the services of a -good, reliable Boy Scout? I’m kind, honest, trustworthy, true—” - -Peggy spun around with a gasp of surprise. “Randy! What are you doing -here?” - -The tall, lean figure of Randolph Brewster, the young playwright Peggy -had met when she first came to New York, hovered over her. “I sent my -spies out early this morning.” He laughed. “They tracked you down to -this place.” He moved closer and took her arm. “Well?” he asked -expectantly. - -Peggy looked at him sharply. “Who told you about _that_?” she demanded. -“Honestly, Randy, can’t a girl have any secrets?” - -“Nope,” he answered good-naturedly. “Not from me, anyway. All right,” he -said. “I’ll tell you how I know. Amy told me.” - -“Amy!” - -“Sure. She was on the phone at a quarter past eight this morning, -talking thirteen to the dozen. She was convinced that you’d get a chance -to read for the part. Did you?” - -Peggy’s breathless nod gave him the answer. Randy grinned and gave her -arm an enthusiastic squeeze. “That’s wonderful, Peggy! When do you -audition?” - -“Tomorrow morning at nine-thirty.” - -Randy pushed her ahead of him into the revolving door. “Where are we -going?” she asked over her shoulder, but the door had already closed -behind her. The next instant she found herself on the street, waiting -for Randy. “You seem in an awful hurry,” she said as Randy emerged. -“What’s up?” - -“You’ll see,” Randy said as he reclaimed her arm. “Amy’s got a surprise -lined up for you.” - -“Can’t you tell me what it is?” - -Randy smiled. “I suppose so. Amy’s been waiting in line outside the -Elgin Theater since nine o’clock this morning. She’s determined to get -standing-room tickets for this afternoon’s performance of _Innocent -Laughter_.” - -Peggy stopped. “Not really!” She gasped. - -“Yes, really.” Randy urged her on. “Come on, let’s tell her the good -news.” - -A few moments later, they turned the corner and walked down one of the -side streets that run into Broadway. They were now in the heart of New -York’s theater district, where famous names stared down at them from -every side. When Peggy first had come to New York, she had envisioned -theaters stretching along the entire length of Broadway. It had been -quite a surprise to discover that nearly all of New York’s theaters were -actually located on rather shabby-looking side streets. But there they -were, with one block housing as many as half a dozen play-houses, each -with its tremendous sign and a marquee jutting out over the pavement. - -Under one of the marquees, about halfway down the block, stood Amy. She -saw them coming and ran toward them, waving a small envelope -triumphantly. - -“I got them!” she cried. She came to a stop beside Peggy and stared at -her hopefully, eyes sparkling in anticipation. “Now, honey,” she said, -“you’ve got to tell me it’s been worth it, standing all this time. -You’re going to read for the part, aren’t you?” - -[Illustration: _Amy waved a small envelope triumphantly._] - -Peggy smiled and nodded. “Tomorrow morning,” she said. “I can’t believe -it yet—” - -Amy let out a whoop and grabbed Peggy’s hands. “Oh, honey, I could kiss -you, I’m so happy.” She looked at Randy proudly. “You see!” she -demanded. “Didn’t I tell you?” - -“You sure did,” Randy admitted with a grin. “Even at a quarter past -eight this morning. I could have cheerfully wrung your neck for waking -me up!” - -“It did you good to get up,” Amy told him. “Now you’ve got to tell me -all about it,” she said to Peggy. “Let’s take a walk, have a nice lunch, -and then get to the theater early.” - -“But aren’t you tired, Amy?” Peggy protested. “You’ve been standing here -all morning.” - -Amy laughed her tinkling, infectious laugh. “After a year of looking for -work in New York,” she said, “my feet are used to it.” She wedged -between Peggy and Randy, took both of them by the arm, and swung down -the street toward Broadway. “Come on, you all,” she said cheerfully. “I -want to hear everything that happened....” - -At six o’clock that evening, the three of them were sitting in Tony’s -Place, a postage stamp-sized restaurant near the Gramercy Arms that -specialized in heaping plates of spaghetti, smothered with rich, -aromatic meat sauce. The spaghetti was ordered and on its way. -Meanwhile, they were munching on crusty Italian bread with sweet butter. - -“Whew!” Amy exclaimed wearily, as she speared a pat of butter from the -iced butter dish in the center of the table. “It sure is good to sit -down. What did you think of the play?” - -Peggy shook her head enviously. “Diana Peters was awfully good, wasn’t -she? The way she played that scene with the old grandfather, you could -tell what she was thinking and what she was feeling every minute. I -don’t think I could ever do that—” - -“Oh, don’t talk silly,” Amy said, biting into a piece of bread. “That’s -exactly the kind of part you _can_ play.” - -“I don’t know,” Peggy replied dubiously. “What do you think, Randy?” - -Randy had been absorbed in thought ever since they left the matinee. At -that moment, he was chewing moodily on a crisp stalk of green celery. “I -wouldn’t worry about that scene too much,” he said. “You just said -yourself you knew what she was thinking and feeling every minute.” - -“Yes, but—” - -Randy leaned forward, jabbing the stalk of celery in Peggy’s direction. -“What _was_ she thinking?” he queried. “That girl in the play. Now don’t -forget, she’s in New York for the first time. She doesn’t know her -mother very well and she’s never even met her grandmother. What’s she -looking for?” - -Peggy shrugged. “Excitement, I suppose. Life.” - -Randy nodded emphatically. “That’s it,” he said. “In her mind, she sees -New York as a romantic fairy-tale city where people can live exciting -lives—” - -“If they know how,” Amy interrupted. - -“Exactly,” Randy said. “And the daughter in the play doesn’t know how. -When she first comes on stage, she’s hoping that her mother will tell -her. But her mother is too preoccupied with her own life to spend much -time with her daughter’s problems. In fact, it never even occurs to her -that she has any.” - -“And later on,” Amy chimed in, “the daughter turns to her -grandmother—the one she’s never met before. Again, the same thing -happens.” - -“At that point,” Randy said, taking charge of the conversation, “the -daughter realizes she’s on her own. She decides the thing to do is to -fall in love. Unfortunately, the first man she meets is all wrong for -her. But she can’t see it and neither can the others.” - -“But the grandfather sees it,” Amy said brightly. - -“Yes,” Randy nodded. “He knows what she’s doing and has a long talk with -her. On the surface it’s very light and funny, but actually it goes -deeper than that. His granddaughter means a lot to the old man, and he’s -trying the best way he knows how to give her the experience of his -years. He knows he can’t lecture her—she’s too stubborn for that, and so -they just sit by the fire and talk. They talk about life and growing up. -About families and the tremendous joy that life offers. All of that.” - -“You mean,” Peggy said, “that the grandfather and the young girl are -getting to know each other as people, not just as relatives.” - -Bandy slapped his hand down on the table. “That’s exactly it,” he said -approvingly. “It’s a scene where two people start out as comparative -strangers and end up as close friends. Despite all the laugh lines, it’s -a very tender moment—and that’s the way it should be played.” - -“You don’t think I should try for comedy?” Peggy asked. - -Randy shook his head emphatically. “Everybody will be doing that,” he -said. “If you offer them something a little different, they’ll notice -you. Besides, the play is so well written that the comedy can take care -of itself.” - -“All right,” Peggy said. “I’ll do it. But that’s not the way Diana -Peters played it this afternoon.” - -Randy frowned. “I know it,” he said. “And that’s been worrying me. Right -now _Innocent Laughter_ is being acted all wrong.” - -Amy broke into a laugh. “Oh, Randy!” she cried. “Here’s the biggest hit -on Broadway, and you say it’s all wrong.” - -“No, listen to me,” Randy said, hunching over the table earnestly. -“Who’s the central character?” - -“The mother,” Amy replied promptly. “It’s the biggest part.” - -“It may be the biggest part,” Randy said. “But the play doesn’t hang -together that way.” - -“Well, what’s wrong with it?” Amy challenged. - -“I think the emphasis should be shifted to the two older people,” Randy -replied. - -“You mean the grandmother and the grandfather?” - -“Right. Look at the mother. She’s shallow at the beginning and just as -shallow at the end. She hasn’t learned a thing. But the grandmother has. -After all, she decides to go back to the grandfather. You remember that -wonderful scene between the two of them in the second act?” - -“Yes,” said Peggy. “I thought that was the best thing in the play.” - -“I did too,” Randy said. “You see, _Innocent Laughter_ deals with three -women who are being very foolish about their lives. The grandfather is -brought in to straighten them out. He succeeds with two of them, but -fails with the third.” - -“Then why didn’t they play it the way you think it should be done?” Amy -demanded. - -Randy shrugged. “It’s hard to say, but my guess is they wanted a -glamorous star to play the part of the mother and had to tailor the -whole play around her. Don’t misunderstand me. I think it’s still a good -play, but it could be much, much better.” - -“Maybe you’re right,” Amy said, brushing the bread crumbs to one side. -“But let’s have a short intermission. Soup’s on.” - -Smiling genially, as he threaded his way past the tables in his crowded -restaurant, came Tony with the spaghetti. - -“Ahhh!” breathed Amy contentedly. “What a beautiful sight. I’m so hungry -I could eat miles of it.” - -“Eat all you want,” Randy told her airily. “Treat’s on me tonight.” - -“Oh, no,” Peggy protested. “We’re going Dutch, same as always.” - -“Nothing doing,” Randy said. “Tonight we celebrate.” - -“Don’t you think it’s a little early?” Peggy said. - -Randy looked over at her and slowly shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he -said, reaching out for her hand. “Frankly, I don’t think you can miss.” - -Randy kept Peggy’s hand in his until Tony came up to their table, -looking for a place to put the cheese. Finally Randy drew his hand back -and gave Peggy a wordless smile. - -It was nice to know everyone was so confident, Peggy thought to herself, -but she knew tomorrow wouldn’t be easy. She glanced up at the clock over -the open kitchen in the rear. It read six-thirty. In fifteen hours, she -would be on the stage of the Elgin Theater, reading for the part of the -general understudy in _Innocent Laughter_. Just fifteen short hours! The -thought sent a shiver of dread and almost unbearable excitement running -down her back. Telling herself that tomorrow was still a long way off, -Peggy picked up a fork and tried to concentrate on Tony’s wonderful -spaghetti. - -Why, she wondered miserably, had she ever thought she could be an -actress? Why hadn’t she stayed home in Rockport and become a -schoolteacher as her father had wished? - - - - - V - Tryouts - - -Peggy was still thinking the same thing the following morning as she -walked up Broadway toward the Elgin Theater. The day had started off -badly with showers and sharp, gusty blasts of wind that sent a fine rain -spattering over the deserted streets. New York’s theater district was -like a ghost town in the early-morning hours. Except for a few familiar -faces—the blind newspaper dealer at the corner of Forty-fourth and -Broadway, the white-jacketed soda fountain clerk reading a magazine in -the window, and the inevitable knot of musicians clustered at the corner -of Forty-fifth street—no one was abroad. People in show business worked -late and slept late. But by noon, Peggy knew, the streets would be -crowded. - -She hurried past the newspaper stand, her high heels beating a brisk -tattoo on the sidewalk. The dealer was sitting inside his tiny booth -behind neat stacks of newspapers. When he heard Peggy’s footsteps his -head came up and a smile crossed his face. - -“Good morning, miss,” he said cheerfully. “You’re out early today.” - -“Good morning,” Peggy called back. “Not a very nice day, is it?” - -“Not for some,” the blind man replied. “But it’s a grand day for you.” - -Peggy stopped in her tracks and stared at him. “What do you mean?” she -asked. - -The newspaper dealer’s smile broadened. “Your audition this morning.” He -chuckled at Peggy’s obvious astonishment, even though he couldn’t see -her face. “Word gets around,” he assured her. “After all, you’ve passed -my stand nearly every morning for months now. I like to know my -customers. Good luck. We’re all pulling for you.” - -“Who—” Peggy started to say, but he waved her on. - -“You don’t have much time,” he told her. “But don’t be too surprised. -You’ve got more friends in New York than you think.” - -Peggy said good-by and moved on, reflecting that New York wasn’t such a -big place after all. People said it was cold and impersonal, but maybe -it wasn’t as bad as they insisted. - -[Illustration: _“Good luck. We’re all pulling for you,” the blind -newsdealer said._] - -The soft-drink counter that fronted on Broadway was halfway down the -next block. A garish red-and-orange sign, bigger than the shop, -proclaimed that it specialized in a drink called PinaCola. Against a -violently colored scene of neon-lighted palm trees a second sign -advertised PinaCola as a “Refreshing, Tropical Fruit Drink—a Sparkling -Blend of Fresh Pineapple Juice and Cola.” The store also served hot dogs -and hamburgers, a limited menu of sandwiches, and hot tea and coffee. It -was built so that customers could get service directly from the street -without going inside. Peggy often stopped there in the morning for a cup -of tea, which was served by a friendly, gum-chewing attendant named -Harry. - -Harry, as usual, sat near the front of the store, his starched white cap -perched on the back of his head. As Peggy passed by, he looked up from -his magazine and rapped on the sliding glass window that opened out on -the street. - -Peggy heard the sound and smiled over at him. Harry broke into a huge -grin and crossed his fingers in what was obviously a good-luck sign. -Peggy waved and hurried ahead. Even Harry knew where she was going. - -Before she had time to puzzle out the almost magical way news seemed to -get around on Broadway, she was stopped by a third well-wisher. - -“Good luck, baby,” came a voice from a nearby doorway. “Belt it out real -cool, and knock ’em dead.” Three or four other men smiled and nodded. - -They were musicians who congregated daily in the same place. No one -quite knew why they were there, but at practically any hour of the day -or night you could find them. The area was generally known as the -“musicians’ corner” and if anyone needed a trumpet player or a guitarist -on short notice, he could call the cigar counter in the lobby of the -building. The attendant was careful to hold all messages. It was one of -those informal arrangements that puzzled outsiders but was accepted -without question by those who lived and worked in that strange world in -New York called show business. - -Peggy smiled back at the men and turned down the street that led to the -Elgin Theater. At the corner her progress was momentarily halted by a -line of sleepy-looking people boarding a chartered bus parked in front -of a sign that read: “Sight-seeing Tours Meet Here.” A brisk, -businesslike man in uniform was herding them aboard. - -“Step lively, folks,” he was saying. “New York’s a big city and we’ve -got a lot to see.” He gave Peggy a good-natured wink as she went by, as -if acknowledging the presence of another insider—a greeting from one New -Yorker to another. It made Peggy feel that she belonged in the big city -and that she was really a part of Manhattan. She swung down the street -with renewed confidence. - -In front of the theater, a row of shiny glass doors blocked her -entrance. A small printed sign over the center door informed the public -that “Box Office Opens at 10 A.M.” Peggy tried the door and found it -locked. - -Moving to the next door, she was met by a gray-haired man who opened it -a crack. “Sorry,” he said. “Box office won’t be open for another half -hour.” Off to her right, Peggy noticed that a line had already formed. -The early birds watched her with interest. - -“I have an appointment,” Peggy said. “With Mr. Stalkey.” - -The doorkeeper immediately stepped back and motioned her inside. “Just a -minute,” he said, reaching for a list on a clipboard. “Your name, -please?” - -“Peggy Lane.” - -The man checked off her name with a flourish. “Right. Go inside, -please.” - -Peggy nodded at him absent-mindedly and pushed her way into the dark -interior of the theater. - -There was something about a deserted theater that was both lifeless and -exciting. It was a strange, gloomy world of silent rows of seats that -looked almost like headstones in a cemetery. - -And then there was the smell. - -All empty theaters had the same unmistakable odor. It was a combination -of stale air and fish glue. The glue, Peggy knew from many long hours in -summer stock, was called “sizing,” and was used over canvas flats to -keep them stretched tight on their frames. Its odor was barely -noticeable at the back of the house, but farther on down, close to the -stage, it was quite strong. Backstage, of course, it was strongest, but -there it was mixed with countless other odors of theatrical life—the -sweet, oily smell of grease paint, the acrid cloud that was generated by -the electrician’s lighting board—all so familiar to Peggy. They were an -integral part of her life, just as the smell of printer’s ink was of her -father’s. - -Blinking her eyes until they were adjusted to the shadowy darkness, -Peggy was aware that the curtain was up. In the middle of the stage -stood a plain worklight—an ugly, bare iron pole topped with a single, -powerful electric light bulb. It shed a harsh, uncompromising light that -threw grotesque shadows over the back of the set and down into the -orchestra. Near the rail that separated the orchestra pit from the -audience, Peggy could see three or four men, deep in earnest, low-voiced -conversation. In various parts of the auditorium, girls were sitting in -groups or singly. Nobody noticed her and nobody came up to tell her what -to do, so Peggy slipped unobtrusively into one of the seats off a side -aisle. - -In a few moments, one of the men down front stood up and consulted his -watch. From his tall, loose-limbed movements, Peggy recognized him as -Craig Claiborne, the director of _Innocent Laughter_. - -Claiborne moved up the center aisle, scanned the house, and apparently -was satisfied with what he saw. He turned and cupped his hands over his -mouth. - -“Frank!” he yelled. “Let’s have some lights.” - -From somewhere backstage a muffled voice shouted, “Okay!” The next -instant the stage was flooded with a soft yellow light. A moment later -an electrician shuffled over to the worklight, unplugged it, and dragged -it off to the wings. As he made his ungraceful exit, a tall, wiry man in -his shirt sleeves stepped on stage. In his hand, he carried two scripts. -He sat down behind a small, wooden table near the footlights and -proceeded to light a cigarette despite the No Smoking signs that covered -the theater walls. No one objected. - -Claiborne turned and mounted some steps that led to the stage. Shading -his eyes against the glare, he advanced toward the audience and cleared -his throat for attention. - -“Good morning,” he began. “I’ll skip the preliminaries because we all -know why we’re here. The scene I want you to read this morning is in the -second act of _Innocent Laughter_. It takes place between the young -daughter and her grandfather. You understand that you’re not reading for -the part of the daughter, but for the general understudy. Let me quickly -describe the action for you, and we’ll start.” - -In a long-legged stride, Claiborne moved to a doorway at stage left. -“The daughter comes through this door into the living room. She thinks -it is deserted, but actually her grandfather is sitting in that wing -chair by the fire. The audience can see him, but she can’t. At this -point in the play, the daughter has just decided to marry the young man. -She’s excited at the prospect and also a little unsure of herself. She -goes over to the window here”—Claiborne walked to a set of double French -doors—“and looks out. She sighs once, then the grandfather speaks. She -turns around in surprise, and they begin their conversation.” - -Claiborne returned to the footlights. “I want each of you to go through -the entrance. Mr. Fox”—he indicated the man puffing on a cigarette—“will -read the scene with you. Mr. Fox, incidentally, is our assistant stage -manager.” - -The man at the table acknowledged the introduction by lifting one hand -and then letting it drop. - -“Now then,” Claiborne said, “we’ll have Miss Celia Forrester.” As a -blond girl in a very tight dress got up to take her place on the stage, -Claiborne continued, “Keep on reading until I tell you to stop. When -you’re excused, please return the script to Mr. Fox and leave the -theater by the stage door. You’ll find it out beyond stage right.” - -Miss Forrester, meanwhile, had collected her copy of the playscript from -Mr. Fox and was already disappearing behind the door. “All right, Miss -Forrester,” Claiborne called out. “We’re ready whenever you are. -Remember to take your time.” - -There was an expectant hush as everyone in the theater settled back to -wait for the girl’s entrance. It came in a rush. The door flew open and -Miss Forrester leaped out on stage, clutching the manuscript in one -hand. Looking a little like some hunted animal, she darted over to the -window and groaned ecstatically. That was the cue for Mr. Fox to read -his line, but he was so fascinated by the girl’s entrance, he merely -stared at her. The young actress flashed him a peremptory glance and -heaved her sigh a second time. The assistant stage manager started -guiltily and quickly found the place. - -“‘Why did you come in so quietly?’” Mr. Fox read. “‘You’re as furtive as -a lady burglar tonight. What’s wrong?’” - -He had a high-pitched nasal voice without a trace of expression. - -Miss Forrester whirled around with a gasp. “‘Oh!’” she cried in a -simpering tone. “‘I didn’t know anybody was here.’” - -“‘I’ll go if you like,’” Mr. Fox continued. - -Miss Forrester tripped over to him girlishly. “‘Oh, no! Please don’t,’” -she said breathlessly. “‘There’s—there’s something I want to talk to you -about.’” For some reason, Miss Forrester decided that a laugh would be -effective at this point. It rang clear and loud through the hollow -stillness of the empty theater. - -Peggy saw Craig Claiborne slump deeper into his seat and bury his head -in his hands. After a few more moments he unwound himself and stood up. -“Thank you—thank you very much, Miss Forrester. We’ll call you.” - -Miss Forrester, who had been stopped in mid-sentence, closed her mouth -and returned the playscript to Mr. Fox. Flashing Claiborne a smile, she -left the stage. - -“Miss Palmers, please,” Claiborne announced. “Miss Ruth Palmers.” - -Ruth Palmers turned out to be an extremely self-assured young woman who -took the script from Mr. Fox as though she were doing him a favor. She -glided haughtily to the door and closed it behind her. - -“All right,” Claiborne called. “Any time.” - -The door opened slowly, and Miss Palmers was revealed leaning -languorously against the frame. Keeping her eyes fixed on some distant -point in space, she stepped on stage and floated over to the window. -Collecting herself, she arched her back and breathed a tiny bored sigh. - -“‘Why did you come in so quietly?’” read the faithful Mr. Fox. “‘You’re -as furtive as a lady burglar tonight. What’s wrong?’” - -Miss Palmers gave a little pout of surprise and turned to regard him -coldly. “‘Ahh,’” she drawled. “‘I didn’t know anybody was here.’” - -“‘I’ll go if you like,’” came the answering line, as the scene got under -way for the second time. - -Miss Palmers lasted a little longer than Miss Forrester before she too -was dismissed. The third girl was allowed to read the entire scene. -Peggy saw she was a good, competent actress. Claiborne even worked with -her on some of the lines. - -The fourth candidate was banished before she could read two lines. She -departed from the stage looking thoroughly defeated—as if this sort of -thing happened to her all the time. - -Both of the next two girls read well. Peggy noticed they had bright, -attractive personalities which shone especially when they came to the -laugh lines. It would be her turn soon. She only hoped that Randy was -right in his diagnosis of the scene. She was determined to play it with -tenderness. - -Peggy was jolted back to reality by Craig Claiborne’s voice calling, -“Miss Lane. Miss Peggy Lane, please.” - -Peggy lifted herself out of her seat and walked down the aisle on -rubbery legs. Suddenly her throat became as dry as a lump of cotton -wool. But somehow she managed to get on stage, take the script from Mr. -Fox, and move through the door. - -At last she was backstage at the Elgin Theater. All around her, coils of -wire and rope snaked across the floor. Above her, high over the stage, -she could see rows of heavy sandbags used as counterweights whenever -scenery was “flown.” Behind her, by the electrician’s board, a heavy-set -stagehand was tipped back in a chair, reading the morning paper. He -didn’t even bother to give her a glance. - -“All right,” came Claiborne’s voice. “Any time.” - -Peggy forced herself to relax. She drew a deep breath and expelled every -drop of air from her lungs. Then she took a second breath and pushed -open the door. - -It’s night, Peggy thought to herself. The room is probably dark except -for the glow of the fire. She moved quietly, tentatively, and closed the -door softly. She stood for a moment, as if she were listening for -something, then walked quickly over to the big double window. Very -gently, she pulled back a curtain. New York was supposed to be stretched -out there in front of her, and Peggy tried to remember what it was like -to see the lights of New York in real life. She conjured them up and -sighed. The lights of New York.... - -“‘Why did you come in so quietly? You’re as furtive as a lady burglar -tonight. What’s wrong?’” - -The line was totally unexpected. Of course, Peggy knew the words would -be spoken, but they still came as a surprise. She turned in genuine -astonishment. “‘Oh!’” she exclaimed. “‘I didn’t know anybody was here.’” - -“‘I’ll go if you like.’” - -Peggy moved down to the wing chair, trying to envision an old man -sitting there. A kind old man with a strong, salty sense of humor, whom -she didn’t know too well. - -“‘Oh, no! Please don’t,’” Peggy read. There was real conviction in her -voice. “‘There’s—there’s something I want to talk to you about.’” - -Suddenly Peggy knew how the girl in the play would feel. She would be a -little afraid of her grandfather, even though she recognized all his -good qualities. The girl would be unsure of how to start the -conversation. - -Mr. Fox, playing the grandfather, read the encouraging lines. Peggy -answered him. The pieces were beginning to fall into place now. She read -with mounting conviction and assurance until, abruptly, a voice -shattered the illusion. - -“Thank you, Miss Lane. We’ll be in touch with you.” - -It couldn’t be over yet! Peggy stopped in stunned amazement. Just when -it was going so well! She felt the script being taken out of her hand -and realized that she had been dismissed. Fighting back the tears, Peggy -moved over to the right of the stage and ran off into the wings. - -She was grateful there was no one backstage to see her. She turned the -corner that led to the stage entrance and thudded against somebody -coming into the theater. - -Peggy blinked the tears away and looked up to see Katherine Nelson -standing in front of her. Katherine Nelson opened her mouth to speak, -but Peggy didn’t stop to listen. - -Murmuring apologies under her breath, she brushed past the star and -threw open the heavy door. All she wanted was to get out of the theater -and as far away from _Innocent Laughter_ as she could. She barely heard -the steel door clang shut behind her as she walked quickly down the -street—away from Broadway. - - - - - VI - “Why Don’t You Quit?” - - -“Peggy, honey, it just can’t be as bad as all that!” - -“You don’t know!” Peggy was in her dressing gown, stretched across her -bed, still thinking about the audition that morning. “I hardly got out -five lines before he stopped me. Honestly, I’ve never been so -embarrassed in my life.” - -“You can’t tell,” Amy said. “Maybe he didn’t have to hear any more.” - -“I’m sure he didn’t,” Peggy replied bitterly. “I’m sure he heard all he -wanted. More than he wanted.” She got up and walked distractedly over to -the window. “Whatever made me think I could be an actress! I ought to -have my head examined!” - -“You _are_ an actress,” Amy said stoutly. “And a darned good one.” - -Peggy whirled on her angrily. “You wouldn’t say that if you could have -heard me. I must have sounded like an old crow!” - -Amy shook her head. “You certainly are taking this hard,” she said. “I -can’t do a thing to cheer you up.” - -“Oh, Amy.” Peggy went over to her roommate and took her by the hand. -“I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s just that—that—oh, I don’t know.” - -“I wish I’d seen you,” Amy declared. - -Peggy looked at her in surprise. “Why? What could you have done?” - -“I just think you’re exaggerating, that’s all. But I can’t convince you -because I wasn’t there.” - -“Well, thanks anyway, but I’m not.” Peggy sat down and closed her eyes. - -“You’d better get dressed,” Amy said after a pause. - -Peggy opened one eye. “What for?” - -“You have to eat, don’t you? I bet you didn’t have any lunch.” - -“I had a bite,” Peggy said listlessly. “But I’m not hungry right now. -You go on.” - -“Not without you.” - -“No, please go.” Peggy sat up and looked at Amy earnestly. “Really, I -wouldn’t mind being alone for a little while. I’ve got some thinking to -do.” - -“Sometimes two heads are better than one.” - -Peggy shook her head doubtfully. “Not on this problem,” she said. “I’ve -got to decide whether to stay in New York.” - -Amy jumped to her feet. “Peggy!” she cried. “That’s the most outrageous -thing I’ve ever heard!” - -“But what’s the sense in beating my brains out?” - -“Oh, Peggy!” It was Amy’s turn to look distracted. “What would you do? -Where would you go?” - -“Do?” Peggy said vacantly. “I guess I’d go back home and do what Dad -wanted me to do all along. Be a schoolteacher.” - -“You wouldn’t be happy,” Amy said gently. - -“No,” Peggy admitted. “I suppose I wouldn’t. But it would be better than -this.” - -Amy crossed the room with firm strides and sat down on the bed beside -Peggy. Her usually cheerful face was set in a serious line. “Now you -listen to me, Peggy Lane,” she said severely. “I don’t know how you read -today and I don’t care. The important thing is that this was your very -first audition for an important play. Of course, you were nervous. Who -wouldn’t be? Maybe you didn’t do as well as you thought you could, but -that doesn’t mean you can’t. Two nights ago, I was the one who wanted to -quit, and remember what you said to me then. You told me to face up to -what happened and not let it get me down. And now here you’re doing the -very thing you warned me against.” - -“Yes, but Amy,” Peggy said, “tell me something, frankly.” - -“What is it?” - -Peggy paused to choose her words with care. “Supposing—just suppose now, -you discovered you didn’t have any talent—” - -Amy tossed her head angrily. “Oh, Peggy!” she cried reproachfully. - -“Now don’t interrupt,” Peggy said. “Just let me finish and answer my -question. If you found out you didn’t have any talent as an actress, -would you still try to break into the theater? Or would you give it up, -much as you loved it?” - -Amy stared at her thoughtfully. “I don’t know, Peggy,” she said. “I -honestly don’t know. What made you think of that?” - -“I saw a girl today,” Peggy said. “She read at the audition. Craig -Claiborne stopped her before she could say three words—” - -“There, you see!” Amy interrupted triumphantly. “You did better than -that!” - -Peggy smiled wanly. “Yes, but not much. Anyway, the point I’m trying to -make is that Claiborne was right in stopping her. She was no good at -all.” She tucked her legs underneath her and leaned forward. “Now here’s -a girl,” Peggy went on, “who obviously thinks she’s got ability. But -actually she doesn’t. Isn’t she just deluding herself by going on?” - -Amy shrugged. “You never know. She might get better.” - -Peggy shook her head emphatically. “Not a chance in the world. You can -tell about some people. And, in a strange sort of way, I think she knew -it, too. You should have seen her face when Claiborne told her she could -go. It was as if she had heard the same thing so many times.” - -“Well, how does all this apply to you?” Amy asked. - -“I’m getting to that. How many girls want to be actresses, do you -think?” - -Amy thought for a moment. “Thousands, I guess.” - -“And a lot of them have some talent,” Peggy continued eagerly. “They -take part in school plays and church pageants and all that sort of -thing. Everybody tells them how good they are, and pretty soon they -begin to believe them. But Amy! What a difference between being the best -actress in your home town and competing in New York!” - -“Don’t I know it!” Amy sighed. - -“Well, then,” Peggy said, “supposing I’m one of those girls—” She held -up her hand. “Now don’t interrupt again,” she warned. “One of those -girls who has a certain amount of ability, but not enough to make the -grade in the professional theater. In that case, I think I owe it to -myself to go back home. Let me act if I want to, but in the local little -theater group—not as a starving outsider in New York. Right?” - -“I guess so,” Amy agreed quietly. “But only if you’re convinced you -don’t have the talent.” - -“And that’s what I have to figure out,” Peggy said. “I’m just not sure.” - -Further discussion was interrupted by a soft knock. - -“Come in,” the girls chorused. The door swung open to reveal May -Berriman standing in the hall with a tray in her hands. - -“Room service,” she announced as she shouldered her way inside. “Would -you mind clearing off that dresser so I can put down the tray?” - -“May!” Peggy cried. “What’s all this for?” - -“Custom of the house,” May replied loftily as she set down her tray. “We -do it whenever a girl has her first big audition. We figure that she’s -too exhausted to go out and eat afterward.” - -“I don’t believe it,” Peggy said. - -“Well, you’re right,” May replied dryly. “But I heard you had a fit of -the blues, and I thought this might help. How do you feel?” - -“She feels terrible,” Amy answered. “She’s the original Calamity Jane.” - -“Uh huh.” May nodded. “Feeling sorry for yourself, eh? Here, try some of -this soup.” She looked at Peggy sharply. “What’s the matter? Did you -walk out on the stage with two left feet?” - -Peggy smiled briefly. “That’s just about it. I did a dreadful job.” - -May put a plate of soup on Peggy’s lap. “Who said so?” she demanded -brusquely. - -“Nobody had to tell me,” Peggy said. “I was there. He stopped me after -five lines.” - -May whistled admiringly. “Five lines! Say, that’s pretty good. I -remember my first audition—they didn’t even let me take a deep breath.” - -“Come on!” - -“I’m not joking. Tell me, were your legs shaking?” - -Peggy laughed. “I didn’t think I could make it to the stage.” - -“I know the feeling. It’s like trying to walk across a plate of Jello. -Well,” May said cheerfully, “you’ve got all the right symptoms. You -should recover in a day or two.” - -“In a day or two she might be gone,” Amy blurted out. - -“What?” May turned to Amy in blank amazement. “What do you mean?” - -“She’s thinking of going back home,” Amy said. “She doesn’t think she’s -got enough talent.” - -May’s expression hardened as she stared at Peggy. “Well!” she said at -last. “Maybe she’s right.” - -“May!” came Amy’s shocked voice. - -“I mean it,” May said coldly. “There’s no room for anyone in the theater -without confidence.” She stalked over to the dresser and began taking -dishes off the tray. Amy and Peggy looked at each other in surprise. - -Amy was the first to break the silence. “But, May,” she faltered, -“couldn’t you—I mean, don’t you think—” - -“That she should stay?” May shook her head disdainfully. “Not if _she_ -doesn’t think so.” The older woman turned and faced the two girls. “Look -here, you two. Whenever an actor or actress gets up on a stage in front -of thousands of people, he’s simply got to have confidence in himself. -He’s got to think that he’s the only person in the world who can play -the part. If he didn’t”—May threw up her hands—“he’d have no business -being in the theater.” - -May walked over to Amy’s bed and sat down. “That doesn’t mean you have -to be vain and egotistical. Somebody like Katherine Nelson, for example. -She thinks the sun rises and sets for her own personal enjoyment. -Personally, I think her acting suffers because of her attitude, and -certainly she’s not a very attractive human being. No, what I’m talking -about is something quite different. It’s a quiet pride in your own craft -and ability. That’s the quality you need.” - -May fixed Peggy with a steady stare. “I know what’s wrong with you, -young lady. You just want somebody to tell you how good you are. Well, -that’s not surprising. We all need approval. But in the theater, we -don’t always get it when we want it, and that means we’ve got to be -tough enough to keep on going no matter what people say. I didn’t say -hard, I said tough. There’s a big difference. Peggy, look at me.” - -The young girl raised her eyes. “I think you’re a good actress. I can’t -tell you how good, because that depends on you. It depends on how hard -you’re willing to work and how fast you learn. But you have the basic -equipment to make it.” - -May raised a finger to emphasize her point. “Even so, that’s still not -enough. You have to want to do it and you have to have a deep faith that -you can do it. Tell me, Peggy, do you think you could play the part of -the daughter in _Innocent Laughter_ if you had to? Tell me honestly -now.” - -Peggy nodded briefly. “Yes,” she said with quiet conviction. “I know I -could.” - -May sighed and stood up. “Then why do you want to leave New York? -_Innocent Laughter_ isn’t the only play you’re ever going to audition -for. And the next time you’ll do better. Let’s have a little backbone, -Peggy.” - -Peggy sat staring at May for a moment, then flung herself into the older -woman’s arms. “Oh, May!” she said. “You’re right. I was being—I don’t -know what.” - -“There, there,” May said soothingly, stroking the girl’s hair. “You’re -all right, Peggy. You just needed somebody to talk tough.” She put her -hands on Peggy’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “No more of this -talk about going home. Promise?” - -Peggy nodded. “I promise,” she said with a laugh. - -“Good girl. Go ahead and have a cry if you want. It’ll do you good. But -don’t forget to eat some supper.” She started to pat Peggy’s hand, but -stopped as the telephone buzzer squawked unexpectedly. - -“Oh, oh,” May said. “Better not have that cry after all. Somebody wants -to talk to you.” - -“I’ll go,” Amy cried, going toward the door. They could hear her -footsteps echoing down the hallway. The next instant, it seemed, they -heard them running back to the room at what sounded like full speed. - -Amy appeared at the doorway, her face flushed with excitement and her -eyes bright. “Peggy!” she almost screamed. “You got it! You got it!” - -For a moment it didn’t register. “Got what?” Peggy stammered. - -“The part!” Amy danced into the room and made a grab for Peggy. “Hurry -up! It’s Peter Grey! He’s downstairs in the living room with Pam Mundy. -He told me to tell you that they’re ready to offer you the part of -general understudy in _Innocent Laughter_. He wants to talk to you about -it right now. Oh, Peggy, Peggy! All that worrying for nothing. You got -the part!” - - - - - VII - Peggy Turns Detective - - -Peggy found Pam Mundy and Peter Grey sitting on one of the sofas in the -big living room of the Gramercy Arms. When Peggy walked through the -door, Peter jumped up and held out his hand. - -“Congratulations,” he said. “We thought we’d come around and tell you -the good news personally.” - -Peggy took the offered hand and smiled. “I still don’t believe it,” she -said. “You’re sure there’s no mistake?” - -“Absolutely certain.” - -Peggy smiled a second time and went over to sit beside Pam. “And you’re -the one who started it all,” she said. - -Pam, who was a petite brunette with a quick, vivacious manner, leaned -her head back against the sofa and laughed. “That,” she said, “was what -they call a stroke of genius.” - -“Well, whatever it was, I’ve got you to thank.” - -Pam sat up suddenly. “Oh, no,” she said. “It’s the other way around. I’m -the one who should thank you.” - -Peggy looked at her in surprise. “Whatever do you mean?” - -“It’s simple,” Pam said seriously. “Oscar Stalkey was wondering whom to -get for the understudy, and I’m the fair-haired girl who came up with -the right name. Is he ever impressed!” - -Peter held up his right hand. “That’s the truth,” he assured Peggy. “He -thinks Pam’s the greatest casting director in New York.” - -“Well, not quite,” Pam said with a grin. “But at least he doesn’t think -I’m a silly girl butting in where I don’t have any business to be.” - -She turned to Peggy with a sudden movement of annoyance. “Honestly, -Peggy, you wouldn’t believe the cold shoulders I’ve been given! I used -to think it was hard for a girl to get established as an actress, but -believe me, that’s a cinch compared to finding a good job in production. -Producers,” she continued, warming up to her topic, “are all alike. In -the first place, they’re nearly all men—” - -“And that’s the way they want to keep it,” Peter finished with a smile. - -“That’s right.” Pam nodded vigorously. “That’s exactly the trouble.” She -turned and appealed to Peggy. “What’s the matter with a woman being a -producer?” she demanded. - -“Nothing. There are some very successful women producers.” - -Pam brushed this aside. “They’re exceptions—” - -“Whoa! Slow down a bit,” Peter said good-naturedly. “This is her -favorite topic,” he told Peggy. “The poor girl’s always telling us what -a hard life she leads.” - -Pam subsided with a sheepish grin. “I guess you’re right. But it still -makes me mad to think—” - -“Watch it,” Peter warned. - -Pam stuck her tongue out at him and they both laughed. “The reason I can -give orders to the terrible-tempered Miss Mundy,” Peter said, “is that I -am now officially her boss.” - -“I thought you worked for Mr. Stalkey,” Peggy said. - -“We both work for Oscar Stalkey,” Peter explained, “but Pam works for -me. You see, I’ve been made company manager for the first road -production of _Innocent Laughter_, and Pam was just made my assistant.” - -“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Peggy cried excitedly. “That means we’ll be -going on tour together.” - -“That’s right,” Peter answered. “And now, if my assistant will kindly -shut up for five minutes, maybe we can talk about the road tour for a -change. After all, that’s why we’re here.” He leaned forward. “First of -all, are there any questions?” - -“Hundreds,” Peggy assured him. “So many I don’t know which one to ask -first. But how about this one? Why did I get the part?” - -Peter looked surprised. “That’s easy. You read better than anyone else.” - -Peggy shook her head in amazement. “I was so scared, my knees were all -wobbly. I thought I was terrible.” - -Peter grinned. “You sure were scared,” he conceded. “We could -practically hear your teeth chattering. But you had the quality we were -looking for.” - -“But what about the other girls?” Peggy said. “The ones that Craig -Claiborne worked with for a while.” - -“They were almost right. Claiborne thought with a little help he could -make them give a performance. But then you came along and you were -perfect. And that was that!” - -“I still can’t understand it,” Peggy marveled. “He cut me off so soon.” - -“He didn’t have to hear any more.” - -Peggy smiled. “That’s just what Amy said.” - -“Well, she was right.” Peter reached into his coat pocket and pulled out -a sheaf of mimeographed papers. “Here,” he said, spreading them out over -the coffee table, “this is an outline of the tour as far as we know it.” - -Peggy leaned over the table and watched Peter check off each stopping -place. “We open in Baltimore on the twelfth of next month. That’s just -five weeks away. We move south to Washington, swing west for a series of -performances through Virginia, West Virginia, Kentucky, up to Ohio, over -to Indiana, and eventually to Chicago. It’s a rugged tour. A lot of -one-night stands in theaters that haven’t been properly used since the -days of vaudeville. Oscar Stalkey believes in bringing live theater to -all parts of the country—even if it kills all his actors.” - -“How long will we be in Chicago?” Peggy asked. - -“As long as they’ll keep us,” Peter answered with a wry smile. -“Actually, we’re the Chicago company of _Innocent Laughter_, but we’re -taking the long way around before we get there.” - -“Is there another road company?” - -“Oh, yes. It hasn’t been formed yet, though. They’ll play the Southwest -and California and probably settle in Los Angeles.” - -“How do we travel?” - -Peter and Pam exchanged glances and grinned. “You name it,” Peter said. -“We’ll be using every means of transportation known to man except the -ox-cart.” - -“Don’t be too sure.” Pam laughed. “We may use that yet.” - -“True,” Peter admitted. “Bus, hired car, trains, of course, planes. -Everything you can think of.” - -“And hotel space?” - -“That’s one of our headaches,” Pam said. “You see, moving a dozen people -and three tons of theatrical scenery around the country on a -split-second schedule is quite a chore.” - -“We’re still worrying about the scenery,” Peter said. “When we get that -settled, we’ll start to think about the people.” - -“Oh, I wasn’t complaining,” Peggy said hastily. “I’m sure everything -will be all right.” - -“I’m glad you think so,” Peter said dryly. “I wish everyone was as easy -to please.” - -“Why? Whom do you mean?” - -“None other than that great lady of the theater, Katherine Nelson.” - -Peggy felt a funny sinking sensation in her stomach. “Is she in the -cast?” - -Peter nodded grimly. “Oh, yes. She’s the mother.” - -“The romantic lead!” - -“Yep.” Peter grinned at her. “Don’t look so surprised. What did you -expect her to play? The grandmother?” - -Peggy shook her head. “I’ve only seen that woman twice, but I don’t -think she liked me.” - -“Bingo!” Peter cried. “You’re so right. What did you do to her?” - -“Nothing. Really, I didn’t do a thing. Why?” - -“She saw you at the theater this morning and came storming up to Oscar -Stalkey. She wanted to know if you were being considered for the -understudy.” - -“What did he say?” - -“What could he say? Yes, naturally. She bounced around the theater like -an old bag of bones, she was so angry. I wonder why she’s taken such a -dislike to you.” - -“I don’t know,” Peggy said. “I’ll just have to stay out of her way as -much as I can.” - -“That’s not going to be easy,” Pam said. “Don’t forget, you’re playing a -small part in the first act. You’re playing the schoolgirl friend of the -daughter.” - -“True,” Peggy said. “Does she know about it?” - -“Not yet.” - -“I bet there’ll be an explosion.” - -“Don’t worry about it,” Peter counseled. “Oscar Stalkey can handle her -pretty well. He doesn’t let her get away with too much.” - -“What was that fight about in the office the other day?” Peggy asked. -“Or shouldn’t I ask?” - -Peter shrugged carelessly. “No big secret. She’d just finished -explaining to Stalkey that she should play the lead in the Broadway -production and not out in the sticks, as she put it.” - -“Mr. Stalkey put her in her place soon enough,” Pam added with evident -satisfaction. - -“And that’s why she was screaming,” Peter added. “She’s got to have her -own way or she throws a temper tantrum. Just like a child. I sometimes -wonder what ails that woman.” - -Pam looked at him sharply. “Don’t be dumb, Peter. She simply can’t face -the fact that she’s not the romantic star she used to be.” - -“Well, I wish she’d act her age,” Peter said moodily. “It’d be a lot -easier all around. Let’s change the subject. Any more questions, Peggy?” - -“One or two. Who’s the rest of the cast?” - -“Let’s see now. The grandmother—a wonderful part—is Emily Burckhardt. -The daughter is Marcy Hubbard. Do you know Marcy? She’s about your age, -I guess. A little older.” - -Peggy shook her head. “No, but I’ve heard of her.” - -“She’s nice. You’ll like her.” - -“What about the grandfather?” - -“Now that,” Peter said, “is a ticklish question.” He pushed a paper -across the table to Peggy. “You’d better hang on to that. It’s the first -of many to come. Before we start on tour, you’ll have mimeographed -sheets telling everything you’ll want to know—times of departures and -arrivals, accommodations assigned to you, absolutely everything. That’s -my headache.” - -“And mine,” Pam said. - -“Right,” Peter acknowledged with a grin. “But to get back to your -question about the grandfather. You heard our conversation in the -office?” - -“You mean when you suggested Tom Agate?” - -“That’s right.” - -“Exactly who is Tom Agate? I think I know the name, and I remember your -saying he was a famous performer back in the days of vaudeville. But I’m -afraid I’m still not clear about—” - -“That’s not surprising,” Peter interrupted. “Tom Agate retired from the -stage fifteen years ago.” - -“Why did he retire?” - -“Nobody knows.” - -“Maybe he couldn’t get a job any more.” - -“Tom Agate!” Peter said incredulously. “Don’t you believe it! Don’t -forget, that was just when television was starting. They were using a -lot of old-time vaudeville performers then, and Tom could have had any -number of jobs. I’ve spoken to several producers who wanted him, but -they couldn’t find him.” - -“What do you mean—couldn’t find him?” - -“Exactly that. He’d disappeared. Vanished.” - -“Do you know where he is now?” - -Peter paused and sat back in his chair. “No,” he said slowly. “I don’t. -But I think there’s a chance of tracing him.” - -“How?” - -“I ran into somebody the other day who says he’s positive that Tom is -still in New York. If he is, we’re going to find him.” - -“Remember,” Pam pointed out, “you’ve only got two days.” - -“I know, and that’s the trouble.” - -“Where are you going to look first?” Peggy asked. - -“I know a man, a friend of my father’s,” Peter said, “who’s been with -the drama department of the _Chronicle_ for the last forty years. He -knows more about the history of the American theater than anyone I’ve -ever met.” He looked straight at Peggy. “I thought we’d go down tomorrow -and talk to him.” - -“We?” Peggy said in surprise. - -Peter nodded. “I was hoping you’d be willing to help.” - -“Well, sure,” Peggy said, “but how—” - -“You see,” Peter went on excitedly, “I can’t get away during the day, -and neither can Pam. There’s just not enough time before the tour. We -both have to stick pretty close to the office. But I thought that maybe -you—” He trailed off and looked at Peggy hopefully. - -“Could act as the bloodhound?” Peggy finished. - -“That’s it. Will you?” - -“I don’t even know what he looks like.” - -Peter brushed this aside. “That’s no problem. We can go down to the -newspaper office first thing tomorrow morning and talk to my friend. His -name, by the way, is Johnny Dwyer. Johnny has a room full of old -clippings and photographs, and I bet he can give us a lead on Tom. Then -you can follow it up and let me know tomorrow evening. How about it?” - -Peggy smiled. “Well, I once discovered a hidden theater. Maybe I’ll be -lucky enough to find a hidden actor.” - -Peter bounced to his feet with a broad smile. “Good girl!” he said. “Can -you meet me on the fourth floor of the _Chronicle_ building at nine -o’clock tomorrow morning?” - -“I’ll be there,” Peggy said. - -“Good.” Peter gathered his papers and stuffed them in his pocket. “We’ll -have your contract prepared tomorrow, and when I meet you I’ll give you -a copy, and you can look it over. Then, if everything’s satisfactory, -you can sign it and deliver it back to us. Okay?” - -Peggy sighed. “Sounds wonderful to me.” - -“Sounds pretty good to us, too,” Peter replied. “I think we’re signing -on a first-class actress.” - - - - - VIII - The Search - - -“Tom Agate? Sure, what can I tell you?” - -Johnny Dwyer settled back in his chair and waved a hand invitingly at a -pair of battered office chairs. Peggy sat down in one of them and looked -at the figure in front of her with interest. Johnny Dwyer was a small, -birdlike man with a cheerful, pink face, snow-white hair and the -bushiest eyebrows Peggy had ever seen. At the moment, he was perched in -front of an old-fashioned rolltop desk in a musty corner of the big -metropolitan newspaper office, his coat off and the sleeves of his shirt -held up by a pair of elastic armbands. Outside of actors in costume and -old photographs, Peggy had never seen anyone wear armbands. But Johnny -Dwyer did, and it gave him the appearance of someone out of a -turn-of-the-century tintype. Despite his age—and Peggy guessed that he -was over seventy—Johnny Dwyer moved with a quick, catlike grace. But -when he walked, it was with the help of a cane. - -On the way in to his office that morning, Peter had told Peggy a little -about Johnny Dwyer. Johnny had been a gay blade in his younger days, a -rising popular star in the New York music halls. But a tragic horseback -accident had broken his leg in three places and cut short his career as -a song-and-dance man. - -The publisher of the _Chronicle_, then a new and struggling newspaper in -New York, liked Johnny, felt sorry for him, and offered him a job -keeping records for the drama department. It turned out to be a -satisfactory arrangement for both sides. Johnny moved in and stayed. - -For nearly half a century he watched the American theater parade through -his bulging scrapbook and file cabinets. His memory was phenomenal and -his list of acquaintances was as wide as the theater itself. In his own -time, Johnny Dwyer had become sort of a legend, a living museum whose -memory was a storehouse of theatrical lore. If anyone needed any -information on the theater, they usually tried the public library first -and then, if they couldn’t find it there, they came to Johnny. -Sometimes, if they knew Johnny well, they didn’t even bother with the -library. According to Peter, if anybody in New York knew where Tom Agate -was, it would be Johnny Dwyer. - -“Tom used to be a good friend of mine,” Johnny said, leaning back -comfortably. “Many’s the night we’ve sat around and swapped stories.” - -“Used to?” Peter asked in a troubled voice. “Is he dead?” - -Johnny looked at Peter shrewdly. “Some people think so.” - -“Do you?” Peter obviously didn’t know what to make of this strange -reply. - -Johnny stared up at the ceiling for a moment before answering. “Look -here, young fellow,” he said at last. “Tom Agate retired a long time -ago.” - -“I know that,” Peter said. “But we want to find him.” - -Johnny Dwyer pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Has it occurred to you that -he doesn’t want to be found?” - -“Oh, come on now, Johnny,” Peter said in a pleading voice. “You know a -lot more than you’re telling us. How about a break? We don’t want to -bite the man. We just want to offer him a job.” - -Johnny seemed startled. “A job? But he’s retired!” - -“He’ll come out of retirement for this part,” Peter said confidently. - -“Oh, it’s a play?” - -Peter nodded. “A wonderful chance.” - -Johnny shook his head and smiled. “Tom Agate’s heard that so many times. -Believe me, he won’t listen. He’s finished with the theater.” - -“Do you know why?” Peggy asked. - -“I don’t have the slightest notion,” Johnny replied blandly. Despite his -innocent expression, Peggy was almost certain the old man was lying to -Peter. “All I know,” he went on smoothly, “is that fifteen years ago, -Tom Agate told me he was quitting the stage. He didn’t give any reason -and I didn’t ask. After all, you don’t stick your nose into someone -else’s affairs.” - -“Have you seen Tom lately?” Peter persisted. - -“The last time I saw Tom was”—the old man cocked his head to one -side—“oh, it must have been four years ago.” - -“And he’d been retired then for eleven years?” - -Johnny smiled briefly. “If my arithmetic isn’t off, I guess you’re -right.” - -“How was he?” - -“Fine.” Johnny folded his hands and waited patiently for the next -question. Peggy suddenly felt herself caught up in a mystery she didn’t -understand. It was clear to her that Johnny Dwyer was not going to -co-operate even though he had the information Peter wanted so -desperately. She waited for the next move anxiously. - -Peter leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. -“Johnny,” he said with quiet sincerity, “let me explain why we want to -get in touch with Tom Agate.” He proceeded to tell Johnny about -_Innocent Laughter_ and the part reserved for Tom. “It’s a wonderful -opportunity for him,” he concluded. “And, of course, I’m convinced that -Tom would be ideal in the part.” - -Johnny Dwyer sat perfectly still for several seconds after Peter had -finished talking. At last he lifted himself to his feet, picked up his -cane, and walked over to the window. Peggy noticed again how tiny and -fragile he looked. “Peter, my boy,” he said finally, “I’m glad you feel -that way about Tom. It’s nice to know that somebody still remembers -him.” - -“I’m sure that thousands of people all over the country remember him!” -Peter interrupted excitedly. - -Johnny smiled and nodded. “Perhaps. But Tom had his reasons for leaving -when he did, and I don’t think anybody has the right to force him back. -It’s a decision he’s got to make.” - -Peter got up and walked over to Johnny. “I agree with you,” he said. -“But we’re not going to force him. All I want is a chance to talk to -him. He can make up his own mind.” - -The two men—one old, the other young—stood staring at each other. Johnny -Dwyer looked into Peter’s eyes as though he were trying to read his -mind, then turned away. “No,” he said. “Get somebody else.” - -Peter sighed and returned to his chair. “You say you saw Tom four years -ago?” - -“Mm-hm.” Johnny gave a little birdlike bob with his head. - -Peter looked up abruptly. “Tell me something, Johnny. Was he happy?” The -question was sharp and unexpected. For the first time Johnny seemed -uncertain of his answer. “Or did he miss the theater?” - -Johnny groped his way over to his chair and sank down. There was a -troubled expression on his face. “Yes,” he said in a very quiet voice. -“He missed the stage.” He looked over at Peggy and Peter. “You two,” he -said, “you’ve been working in the theater for how long? Two years? Four -years? Five years? Well, Tom Agate spent thirty years of his life on -stage. It was everything he knew—and almost everything he loved.” - -“_Almost_ everything?” The question came almost automatically, before -Peggy had a chance to think about it. Johnny looked at her oddly. It was -the first time she had spoken during the interview. - -“Don’t ask me any more,” he said. “Just leave Tom alone.” - -Peter shook his head stubbornly. “Why don’t you help us give Tom a -chance to find happiness again?” - -“By coming back to the theater?” - -“Yes.” - -“He’d never do it. I told you that.” - -“Maybe he’s changed his mind.” - -Johnny smiled and shook his head regretfully. Suddenly Peggy was on her -feet, talking quickly and earnestly. - -“Mr. Dwyer,” she said, “we don’t want to pry into Mr. Agate’s personal -life. You said yourself no one should poke his nose into someone else’s -business. Well, I agree. But at the same time you just admitted that he -was unhappy and missed the theater. You said it was his whole life. -Sometimes, Mr. Dwyer, people need help. They need to have their eyes -opened so they can see the life they’re missing. The life that belongs -to them if only they reach out and take it. Doesn’t Mr. Agate deserve a -second chance? I—I don’t know what happened fifteen years ago. I don’t -know why he left the stage and I wouldn’t dream of asking him.” - -“Then what _do_ you want to ask him?” - -“I want to ask him to come back to the life he loves,” Peggy said -simply. - -“I tried that myself,” Johnny said. “It didn’t work.” - -Peggy pulled a chair over beside Johnny and looked into his face. -“Sometimes,” she said gently, “the wrong person does the asking.” - -Johnny stared at her in surprise. “What do you mean?” - -Peggy was flushed and embarrassed at what she was about to say, but she -held her ground. “We’re young,” she said as kindly as she could. “We’re -still part of the theater he misses so much. If _we_ want him back, -that’s different from....” Her voice trailed off in confusion as she -anxiously watched Johnny’s reaction. - -Johnny nodded in comprehension. “Different from an old fellow like me -doing the asking. Somebody who’s through, himself. Is that what you -mean?” - -“Yes,” Peggy said almost in a whisper. “Except for one thing. You’re not -through. You’ve still got your work. People need you—the newspaper needs -you. Nobody needs Tom Agate, and he probably thinks nobody wants him.” -She stood up and looked down at him. “But we want him.” - -Johnny passed a hand over his face and rested his chin on the head of -his cane. Slowly his head began to nod. “You’re right,” he said at last. -“By gollies, I think you are.” He turned to Peter with an appreciative -chuckle. “You should have let her do the talking right from the start.” - -“Then you’ll help us?” Peggy cried eagerly. - -Johnny got up and hobbled energetically over to a pile of scrapbooks. -“I’ll do all I can,” he said. “But I’m afraid it’s not going to be -much.” - -“Johnny!” Peter was over beside the old man, clapping him -enthusiastically on the back. - -“Take it easy, now,” Johnny protested. “Frankly, I’d give a lot to see -Tom Agate back on the stage. Remember that old song of his, ‘Kathleen -Aroon’?” - -Johnny was chuckling happily now, as if he had been relieved of a great -burden of responsibility. - -“Hold on.” Peter laughed. “He won’t be doing any songs in _Innocent -Laughter_. It’s a straight play.” - -“What a pity,” Johnny sighed. “Did you ever hear him sing?” he asked -Peggy. “I guess not,” he said before she could answer. “You’d be too -young. But that was his theme song. He used to sing it everywhere. I -think he included it in every show he ever played.” - -“How does it go?” Peggy asked. - -“Like this.” Johnny turned and faced them. - - _“Why should we parted be, Kathleen Aroon, - When thy fond heart’s with me, Kathleen Aroon? - Come to these golden skies, - Bright days for us may rise, - Oh! dry those tearful eyes, Kathleen Aroon.”_ - -Even though Johnny sang with the thin voice of an old man, Peggy found -herself listening to every phrase. When he finished, she held out her -hands to him. - -“That was beautiful,” she breathed. “I never knew that such a simple -song could be so lovely.” - -Johnny smiled modestly. “You should have heard Tom do it,” he said. “It -always seemed to have a special meaning for him.” - -Beside her, Peggy could feel Peter fidgeting restlessly. “Say, I’m sorry -to break this up,” he said, “but I’ve got to get back to the office. Can -we have Tom Agate’s address?” - -Johnny shook his head regretfully. “That’s just the trouble. I’m afraid -he may have moved. All I’ve got is the place where he lived four years -ago.” - -“But mightn’t he still be there?” Peter asked anxiously. - -Johnny shrugged. “I don’t know. You can try.” - -“Well, where is it?” - -Johnny wrote out an address that Peggy recognized as a place out in the -suburbs beyond the city. - -“That’s the best I can do,” Johnny said. “You can inquire there.” - -“Great.” Peter took the paper and handed it over to Peggy. “That’s your -job, Sherlock Holmes. Let’s hope you find him.” - -“Wait a minute,” Peggy said, grabbing Peter by the arm. “I don’t even -know what he looks like.” - -“That’s easy,” Johnny said. “I’ve got a million photographs. Let me get -you one. I’ll try to get the best likeness for you.” He disappeared down -a narrow aisle of file cases. A moment later he was back, blowing the -dust from a large glossy photo. “Here,” he said, holding it out. “That’s -just about the way he looks today. It was taken during the war.” - -The picture showed a rather ordinary-appearing man. At first glance -there was nothing particularly unusual about Tom Agate. But a closer -look revealed a quality of gentle, almost melancholy, humor that seemed -to dominate his face. Peggy held it out at arm’s length. “He looks so -sad,” she said. “Somehow I expected him to be gay.” - -“What did you think he’d be like?” Johnny asked quietly. “A circus -clown?” - -“No,” Peggy said. She shook her head. “I don’t know.” - -“Don’t be embarrassed,” Johnny said hastily. “All great clowns are sad. -Or didn’t you know that?” He took the photograph from her, slipped it -into a plain Manila envelope and returned it. “Here you are,” he said. -“And good luck to you. I hope you find him.” - -Peggy tucked the envelope under her arm and extended her hand. “Thanks a -lot,” she said warmly. “We’ll let you know how we make out.” - -Johnny walked them to the door of his office. “You do that,” he said. -“And when you find Tom Agate, give him my regards.” He held the door -Open. “Tell him for me that he was a fool ever to have listened to -Johnny Dwyer. Tell him—tell him that his friends are waiting for him. -It’s been too long.” He smiled and gripped their hands in farewell. - - -Paradise Avenue, just beyond New York City, in Astoria, stretched out in -a straight, treeless line of two-family brick houses, each set back -about thirty feet from the sidewalk. In general appearance, all the -buildings were pretty much alike, although here and there a gaily -painted front porch and cottage shutters hinted at the presence of a -more imaginative homeowner. - -The street was almost deserted. But then it was nearly one-thirty. The -men were away at their jobs and the children at school. Peggy looked at -the envelope in her hand. The address read 3612 Paradise Avenue. The bus -driver had given her precise directions. This should be the 3600 block. -Peggy moved slowly down the street, searching for the first house -number. There it was—3601. That meant the house she wanted must be -diagonally across the street. Peggy trotted over, ticked off the -numbers, and stopped in front of a reddish-brown brick house. She turned -up the walk, mounted the stairs, and reached out for the bell. As she -touched it, she felt a strange sense of excitement build up inside her. -The bell echoed hollowly. Peggy pressed it a second time. - -“Just a minute!” came a woman’s voice. - -Peggy stepped back and waited. Then she saw that the brick wasn’t brick -at all, but some sort of imitation material. All the houses on the block -must have been built the same way. It told of a lower middle-class -neighborhood that prided itself on neatness and hoped for better times -to come. - -Suddenly, without warning, the door swung open and Peggy was face to -face with a middle-aged woman who peered at her suspiciously. When she -saw her caller was a young girl, the woman opened the door a little -wider. - -“Yes?” she asked. - -Peggy put on her most pleasant smile and moved forward. “Good -afternoon,” she said. “I’m looking for someone. A Mr. Tom Agate. Does he -live here?” - -“Agate?” The woman said. She shook her head slowly. “Nobody by that name -here.” - -“I know he lived here four years ago,” Peggy said hopefully. “He was an -elderly gentleman.” - -“Retired?” - -Peggy’s heart leaped. “Yes. He was retired.” - -The woman opened the door all the way and motioned Peggy inside. “There -_was_ a retired gentleman living with us. He rented the rear bedroom. -But his name was Anderson.” - -Peggy reached for the photograph. “I wonder if you’d recognize him if -you saw his picture?” - -The lady of the house nodded unhesitatingly. “Oh, yes, I’d know him.” -She squinted at the photograph, took a closer look and blinked. “Let me -get my glasses,” she said, turning away to go into the living room. “And -shut the front door. It’s getting chilly.” - -Peggy did as she was told and waited for the woman’s return. The tiny -front hall was spotlessly clean and cheerily decorated with flowered -prints and a single gold-framed mirror over a mahogany console table. -Both furniture and floors were polished to a high gloss. Peggy sensed -that this was a home where everything was dusted twice a day and where -nothing was allowed to disturb a well-established routine. - -“Are you a relative of Mr. Anderson’s?” The woman was back with a pair -of plain glasses perched on her nose. Peggy saw that she was wearing -soft bedroom slippers which accounted for her silent tread. - -“Not exactly,” Peggy admitted. She wondered how to explain her interest. -The real story would be too complicated to tell. “I’m just a friend. -Actually,” she added hastily, “a friend of a friend. You see,” she said -with sudden inspiration, “Mr. Agate—the man I’m looking for—has had a -stroke of good fortune, and I’ve been assigned the job of finding him.” - -The woman stared at Peggy with new respect. “I see,” she said solemnly. -“Then you’re a private investigator?” - -“Well, sort of,” Peggy answered. - -The woman leaned forward. “Did he fall into an inheritance?” she asked -in a hushed voice. - -Peggy gulped and spoke in an equally quiet voice. “I’m afraid I can’t -talk about it,” she whispered. - -The woman nodded conspiratorially. “I quite understand, my dear. Forgive -me for asking.” - -Peggy reassured her with a smile and held out the photograph. The woman -studied it for a moment and slowly began to nod her head. “That’s the -man,” she said at last. “That’s Mr. Anderson. I always said he was a -real gentleman. Even though he did play the banjo.” She said the last -with just a trace of exasperation as though playing the banjo was far -too frivolous an occupation for a reliable person. - -“Yes,” Peggy said excitedly. “That would be Mr. Agate.” - -The woman shook her head sadly. “I wonder why he changed his name?” Her -expression hardened into a severe frown of disapproval. “It doesn’t -sound like the proper thing to do. I mean, it sounds as if he wanted to -hide something. I never would have let him stay here if I’d known about -that.” - -“I’m sure you’re very careful,” Peggy broke in. “But—” - -“This is a respectable house,” the woman said primly. - -“Oh, I can see that,” Peggy assured her. “But when did Mr. Agate leave -you? And do you know where he went?” - -Tom Agate’s erstwhile landlady pressed her lips together in a thin line. -“I don’t know anything about him,” she said shortly. “You just can’t -trust people these days. Why, I was saying to Maude Benson the other -day....” - -Peggy realized that she was going to have to think and talk quickly in -order to get information out of the woman. “I know how you must feel,” -Peggy soothed. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “But Mr. -Agate’s had a very sad life.” - -The woman stopped and stared at Peggy with fresh interest. “Really!” - -“Oh, yes,” Peggy said gravely. “He was orphaned at an early age. The -only person to take care of him was a distant cousin who tried to -disinherit him.” - -The woman was clearly shocked. “No!” - -“Yes. You see, Mr. Agate is the rightful heir to the Agate fortune.” -Peggy held her fingers up to her lips. “Now you mustn’t breathe this to -a soul.” The woman nodded breathlessly. “But Mr. Agate is the only son -of Henry Agate. You know,” she prompted, “_the_ Agate family. One of the -wealthiest in America.” - -The woman looked at Peggy in round-eyed wonder. “Oh, yes,” she said. -“The Agates.” - -“Of course, everybody’s heard of them,” Peggy said in an offhanded -manner. “And that’s why Mr. Agate didn’t like to use the name.” - -The woman brightened considerably. “Isn’t that the most romantic thing -you ever heard of!” she practically crooned. “And to think that he was -living right in our house! Just wait until I tell Maude!” - -“Oh, you mustn’t!” Peggy cautioned. “You promised!” - -“That’s right, I did.” She patted Peggy on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, -my dear, you can trust me.” - -“Well, now,” Peggy went on in a more businesslike voice, “have you any -idea where we can find Mr. Agate?” She put a slight emphasis on the “we” -in order to give the woman a feeling that she was part of the search. - -The woman suddenly clapped her hands together. “I just remembered -something. When Mr. Agate left here two years ago he told me where he -was going. It was a place way over in Baywater on the other side of Long -Island. I remember thinking it was rather strange to go so far off, but -then he said he wanted to live near the ocean.” - -“Did he give an address?” - -The woman shook her head regretfully. “No, he refused to leave any. He -said there wouldn’t be any mail. And there wasn’t.” - -“Can’t you remember anything more than that?” - -The woman closed her eyes. “Yes,” she said slowly. “He let the address -slip once. It was Tidewater Road, I’m sure of that.” - -“And the number?” - -There was a sigh. “I can’t—wait a minute. I think it was twenty-nine -hundred something Tidewater Road.” She opened her eyes eagerly. “Yes, I -know it was. It was the twenty-nine-hundred block.” - -Peggy hurriedly slipped the photograph back in its envelope. “Well, -thank you very much,” she said. “You’ve been most helpful.” - -“I wish I could have done more for poor Mr. Agate. He really was such a -nice gentleman.” - -“If I locate him, I’ll give him your regards,” Peggy promised. - -The woman danced nervously around Peggy, obviously reluctant to see her -go. “Won’t you stay for a cup of tea, my dear?” - -Peggy declined as gracefully as she could. “I’m afraid I can’t. I’m -going to have to get to Baywater this afternoon.” - -The woman was now eager to help. “If you take the number fourteen bus -down at the end of the block, it will get you to the Long Island -Railroad Station. I’m sorry I don’t have a timetable.” - -“That’s perfectly all right,” Peggy said, edging toward the door. “I’ll -be able to manage. Thank you again.” Peggy turned the handle of the -front door and stepped out on the porch. - -As Peggy fled down the steps, she heard a muffled “good-by” as the door -slammed shut. That would be the woman on her way to the telephone to -tell Maude Whatever-her-name-was all about the famous Mr. Agate. Well, -let her, Peggy thought to herself with a smile. No harm in that. - -She directed her footsteps to the bus stop at the corner. “Tidewater -Road,” she murmured to herself. “Not much to go on, but I’m not going to -give up now.” - - - - - IX - The One-Eyed Giant - - -Paradise Avenue, with its imitation brick houses and neat garden plots, -might have had some pretensions, but Tidewater Road had none. Here the -houses were built of frame, most of them in need of a new coat of paint, -many of them badly wanting repairs. Even the streets seemed uncared for. -Scraps of old newspapers rustled in the gutters, and the pavement itself -was cracked and worn. Looking at its bleak row of buildings, Peggy felt -like catching the next train back to the city. Tom Agate couldn’t be -living here. - -She had to remind herself that she had made a promise as she crossed the -street and approached the first house on the block. A child’s tricycle, -one wheel twisted awkwardly out of shape, lay on its side across the -steps. Peggy picked her way gingerly around it, crossed the porch, and -put her finger on the bell. No sound came from the house so she tried -knocking. - -“Yeah?” came a thin, querulous voice, but inside the house nothing -moved. - -Peggy stepped back, wondering what to do next. “Excuse me,” she called -at last. “I wonder if you could give me some information.” - -“We don’t want none,” answered the same voice. - -“I’m not selling anything,” Peggy replied. “I just want some help.” - -There was a moment’s silence and then the shuffling of feet. A -suspicious face appeared at the door and examined Peggy narrowly. It was -an older woman, dressed in a worn housecoat with her hair up in pin -curls. - -“Yeah? Whatcha want?” - -Peggy fumbled at her envelope and drew out the photograph. “I’m trying -to locate somebody,” she said. “I understand that he lives in this -neighborhood, and I wonder if you know him?” She held out the picture -for inspection. - -The door opened a little wider as the woman leaned down to examine the -photograph. The pin curls gave a decisive shake. - -“Naw. Never saw him.” - -The next instant the door was slammed shut and Peggy found herself alone -on the porch. She made her way carefully back down the steps and out to -the sidewalk. Finding Tom Agate was going to be much harder than she had -anticipated. - -There was no answer at the next house. In the one following lived a -woman who spoke no English. The trail became warmer at the third house -where a woman said she thought the face looked familiar, but couldn’t -place it. The next five houses were blanks. - -By now it was well after four o’clock in the afternoon. Peggy knew she -had time for only two or three more calls before taking the train back -to New York. Peter Grey had arranged to meet her at the Broadway -Drugstore on Forty-eighth Street at eight-thirty, giving her barely -enough time to get back to the city, bolt down some supper, and keep her -appointment. But the next three houses could give her no fresh -information and Peggy decided that she had had enough for one day. She -would return in the morning and finish the rest of the houses on the -block. - -As she turned to retrace her footsteps to the bus stop on the corner, -her eye was caught by a bright flash of color. Four doors down from -where she stood was a house decorated with two window boxes full of fall -flowers. Peggy wondered why she hadn’t noticed it before. The house -itself was weatherworn, and like all the other houses on the block, in -need of a fresh coat of paint. But somehow it gave the impression of a -home that had been carefully tended. The porch was neat, the lawn had -been recently raked of leaves, and someone had even tried to trim the -hedges. Standing in the midst of such careless neglect, the house seemed -to sparkle with life and friendly invitation. - -Before she realized it, Peggy was standing at the front door, listening -to a set of chimes peal softly at her touch. The door was opened by a -pleasant-looking woman who was drying her hands on a towel. When she saw -Peggy, her face broke into a smile of welcome. - -“Come in,” she said. “You caught me washing some things in the kitchen.” - -Peggy stepped into a clean, simply furnished front hall. “I’m sorry to -interrupt you,” she said. “But I’m trying to locate someone, and I -thought maybe you could help me.” Peggy displayed her photograph again -and waited for the reaction. But this time, instead of a blank stare and -a quick shake of the head, she was met with an exclamation of surprise. - -“But that’s Mr. Armour!” the woman cried in a delighted voice. - -“Mr. Armour?” - -“Yes. He lived with us for over a year and a half.” - -“You mean he’s moved?” Peggy heard the disappointment in her own voice. -Tom Agate had chosen another name. - -“I’m afraid he has,” the woman said. She beckoned Peggy into the living -room. “Here, won’t you come in for a few moments? You look tired.” - -“Well, yes, I am,” Peggy admitted. “I’ve been going since early this -morning.” - -“Trying to find Mr. Armour?” the woman asked, sitting down in an easy -chair. - -Peggy nodded as she took a chair near the door. “Yes. It’s a terribly -complicated story, but believe me, it’s important that I locate him.” - -“I’ll be happy to tell you all I know,” the woman said. “A little less -than two years ago, Mr. Armour rang my front doorbell and asked if he -could rent a room. Well, I had never rented a room before, but it just -so happened that my son had recently left home.” The woman smiled shyly. -“He had just gotten married, you see.” - -Peggy smiled back and nodded. - -“He has a little baby girl now. Lives in upstate New York. We’ll be -going to see them for Thanksgiving.” The woman paused and laughed. “But -you don’t want to hear about that. Anyway,” she said, returning to her -story, “I told him all right and about a week later he moved in. Well, -we couldn’t have had a nicer man in our house—not even if we had picked -him ourselves. Always cheerful he was, and very quiet.” - -“You say he was quiet?” Peggy interrupted. “Didn’t he ever play the -banjo?” - -The woman beamed. “He certainly did. He used to play it for us in the -evenings. He was very good, you know.” - -Peggy nodded. “Yes, I know. Do you remember any of the tunes he used to -play?” - -“Let’s see now. Well, he played all the old favorites—Stephen Foster and -... oh, I can’t remember what-all.” - -“Did he ever play ‘Kathleen Aroon’?” - -“How did you know that?” the woman cried. “That was one he did all the -time. Beautiful too. Simply lovely.” - -Peggy sighed. It must have been Tom Agate. She wondered if he was still -calling himself Armour. He seemed to change his name each time he moved. - -“What happened to him?” she asked. - -“He left us. About three months ago.” - -Three months! Peggy almost groaned aloud. “Have you any idea where he -went?” - -The woman shook her head slowly. “No. He didn’t leave a forwarding -address. He said there wouldn’t be any mail.” - -This matched the story Peggy had heard earlier that afternoon. “He -didn’t give you any hint about where he was going?” - -“No. None at all.” The woman looked at Peggy sympathetically. “I’m -sorry. I wish I could help you, but I’m afraid....” - -“Do you know why he left?” - -The woman paused and stared down at the floor. “I think so,” she said in -a troubled voice. “It was because he couldn’t afford to pay the rent any -more. I was perfectly willing to let him stay, but he insisted on going. -He said that he couldn’t allow himself to accept charity. I tried to -explain that his presence gave us real pleasure and that was payment -enough, but he wouldn’t listen. One day he went out and just never came -back....” Her voice trailed off and she shrugged helplessly. - -“Didn’t he take his banjo with him?” - -“Yes, he took that. But not very far.” - -“What do you mean?” - -“There’s a little boy in the house next door. Tommy Stanton, his name -is. Mr. Armour was very fond of Tommy. They used to spend hours -together. He even taught Tommy how to play the banjo a little, and -before he left, he gave it to him.” - -Peggy passed a hand across her forehead. Every trail seemed to lead to a -dead end. Tom Agate had disappeared without a trace. Peggy finally -gathered herself together and stood up. “Thank you very much,” she said. -“I guess that just about finishes any chance of finding my friend.” - -“I guess so,” the woman agreed sadly. “Unless”—she got up and put her -finger against her lips—“you want ... listen,” she whispered. “There’s -Tommy playing now.” - -Peggy listened carefully and heard the sound of a banjo being plucked. -It seemed to be coming from the back yard. “Maybe Tommy knows something -about him. Would you like to ask?” the woman inquired. - -“I certainly would,” Peggy said, moving toward the front door. - -“Here,” cried the woman, taking her by the arm. “Come around the back -way. It’s quicker.” - -Moving quietly, the woman led the way through the kitchen and out the -back door into the yard. The sound of the banjo was now loud and clear. -“Tommy!” cried the woman. “Oh, Tommy! Can you come here a minute?” - -The music stopped and in a moment a small tousled head appeared over a -back fence. “Hello, Tommy,” the woman said in a friendly voice. “This -nice young lady said she wanted to meet you.” - -[Illustration: _A small tousled head appeared over a back fence._] - -The face above the fence gave a scowl of annoyance but held its -position. Peggy walked over and smiled. “How do you do, Tommy?” she -said. “I like the way you play the banjo.” - -There was no answer to this. A pair of eyes gazed at her steadily, and -Peggy could hear the sound of a foot impatiently kicking the other side -of the fence. She decided that flattery was going to get her nowhere -with Tommy, and abandoned it for a more direct approach. - -“I bet I know who taught you how to play,” she said. “It was Mr. Armour, -wasn’t it?” - -The scuffing stopped and Peggy thought she detected a flash of interest. -She held out the picture to the little boy. “That’s Mr. Armour, isn’t -it?” - -The boy’s eyes grew round and he nodded his head briefly. “You know Mr. -Armour?” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. - -“No,” Peggy admitted. “I don’t. But I want to.” - -“Why?” Tommy demanded. “You want to learn how to play?” - -“I wouldn’t mind.” - -Tommy nodded. “He can teach you. He can teach anybody.” He eyed her -moodily. “Even girls.” - -“I bet he can,” Peggy said, wondering why all little boys seemed to have -such vast scorn where girls were concerned. “The only trouble is,” she -went on, “I don’t know where to find him. Do you know?” - -The kicking on the other side of the fence started in again. Tommy -lowered his eyes and stared at Peggy’s feet. “It’s a secret,” he -muttered. - -“What is?” - -“Where Mr. Armour went.” - -Peggy’s heart almost missed a beat. She tried to keep her voice calm. -“Can’t you tell me?” - -The kicking increased to a thunderous volley. “Nope,” Tommy said -abruptly. - -“Oh, please,” Peggy begged. “I want to see him so badly.” - -Tommy’s lower lip stuck out as he considered Peggy’s request. “I want to -see him too,” he announced. - -“Well, if you tell me where he is,” Peggy said, “maybe I can get him to -come back.” - -The kicking stopped a second time as Tommy paused to appraise this new -idea. Then quite suddenly, he disappeared. For a moment Peggy thought he -had gone back into his house, but the next instant, a gate swung open -and Tommy marched into the yard, holding a banjo in one hand. He stopped -in front of Peggy and looked at her earnestly. “Honest?” he said. “You -really think you can get him to come see me?” - -“I’ll try,” Peggy promised. “I’ll try as hard as I can.” - -Indecision was stamped all over Tommy’s face, but in the end the desire -to see his old friend won out. - -“He’s gone far away from here,” he said in a clear voice that left no -room for doubt. - -“How far?” - -“To a place where there are kings and queens and all sorts of magic -things. There’s a one-eyed giant there who looks after everybody and -sees to it that everybody is happy. Mr. Armour told me. He said he’d -always be happy ’cause he’d be with friends. It’s a place where -everybody lives in trunks.” - -“In trunks!” Peggy exclaimed. - -Tommy nodded solemnly. “That’s what he said. He told me I mustn’t miss -him too much on account of he was going to be very, very happy and -safe.” - -“Did he say where this place was?” - -Tommy shook his head. “Just that it’s far away.” - -Peggy and the woman looked at each other blankly. Kings and queens who -lived in trunks with a one-eyed giant to guard them! It didn’t make -_any_ sense. - -“When you find him,” Tommy was saying, “tell him I can play lots better -now, and I want him to come and hear me.” - -“I will,” Peggy said automatically. “I’ll tell him.” - -“Okay,” Tommy said with a satisfied nod. “I gotta go now.” - -“All right.” Peggy held out her hand, but Tommy backed resolutely away -from it. He turned and ran for the gate. “G’by,” he called. - -“Good-by,” Peggy said. The gate swung open and Tommy disappeared. - -A one-eyed giant! Where on earth could Tom Agate be living? Peggy turned -thoughtfully back to the house. - - - - - X - Tom Agate - - -“Honestly, Peter, that’s what he said.” - -Peter Grey lowered his cup into his saucer. “Kings and queens,” he -muttered incredulously. - -“And don’t forget the one-eyed giant,” Peggy reminded him. - -“Don’t worry, I’m not,” Peter assured her, “but I’d rather think about -one thing at a time.” - -Peggy and Peter were sitting in a back booth of the Broadway Drugstore. -Outside, the streets were comparatively empty. Half an hour earlier they -had been jammed curb to curb with honking taxicabs threading through -thousands of hurrying people on their way to an evening at the theater, -a first-run movie, or a late dinner. But by now everyone had reached his -destination. The streets off Broadway would be quiet for another two -hours. Then, as if some unseen force had released a floodgate, the big -doors to the theaters and movie palaces would swing open, and the rush -would begin all over again. - -“Do you think it was all his imagination?” Peter was asking. - -Peggy shook her head. “I’m sure he didn’t make it up,” she said. - -“I don’t mean the boy,” Peter said. “I mean Tom.” - -“Why would he do that?” - -“To cheer up the little boy. To keep him from being sad about his -leaving.” - -Peggy toyed with her cup of tea. “I don’t know,” she said at last. -“Maybe it all means something. Maybe Johnny Dwyer could help us.” - -“Yes, but not until tomorrow morning,” Peter pointed out. “And we don’t -have that much time left.” He drummed his fingers impatiently on the -table. “We’ve got to figure it out tonight.” He pushed his coffee cup to -one side. “Let’s start at the beginning and try to put ourselves in Tom -Agate’s position. First of all, how much do we know?” - -“Well,” Peggy said thoughtfully, “we know that three months ago he ran -out of money and left the house on Tidewater Road. It seems to me that -there are four possibilities.” - -“All right. Let’s have them.” - -“He found a job.” - -Peter shook his head. “That’s not likely. All he knew was the theater. -And if he had gotten a job in show business people would have heard -about it.” - -“What about some other kind of job?” - -“What could he do? He was too old to be hired for a regular position.” - -“Let’s not throw out that possibility yet,” Peggy cautioned. “He might -have found something like a night watchman or a caretaker.” - -“Yes,” Peter admitted, “that’s true. But why did he wait so long? Why -didn’t he do it years ago before he was completely broke?” - -“I don’t know. Let’s put it aside for the moment and go on to the second -possibility. He went to some member of his family.” - -“Absolutely not,” Peter declared. “He didn’t have any.” - -“None at all?” - -“Oh, yes, he once had a wife,” Peter said. “But it didn’t work out.” - -“Do you know where she is?” - -“I don’t even know _who_ she is. I don’t know whether they were divorced -or not. But they parted years ago. As a matter of fact, I once heard -that there was some bitterness there, so I doubt if he’d find a warm -reception if he went back.” - -“So returning to his family is out?” - -“I’m afraid so. What’s your third possibility?” - -“He might have gone to a friend.” - -Peter considered this carefully. “Maybe,” he said at last. “But Tom -seems to be a pretty proud old codger, the kind who wouldn’t accept -charity. Besides, Johnny Dwyer was one of his closest friends, and even -he doesn’t know where he is. What’s next?” - -Peggy lowered her eyes. “I—I don’t like even to think of it,” she -murmured. “But maybe....” - -“Suicide?” Peter said incredulously. “Never! I’d bet anything on that. -Tom wouldn’t go out that way. He’s got too much courage.” - -“Well then, where does that leave us?” - -Peter leaned back in the booth and signaled the counterman for another -order. “I’d rule out two of your possibilities,” he said slowly, -“leaving us with two alternatives. Either he’s found a job or he’s gone -to live with an old friend.” Peter reached out and made room for the two -fresh cups as they were brought to the table. The counterman collected -the empties and retreated behind the rows of soda stools. - -“Which one do you think it is?” Peggy asked as she stirred her tea. - -Peter shrugged helplessly. “That’s the trouble,” he said moodily. “I -can’t believe that Tom has a job. My original objection still stands. -Why didn’t he get one earlier? On the other hand, he just isn’t the type -to sponge off an old friend, no matter how close they once were.” - -“But, Peter,” Peggy said with a trace of a smile, “you can’t eliminate -everything. It’s got to be something.” - -“I know, I know,” Peter said impatiently. “That’s the whole trouble. And -where does it all fit in with this story of kings and queens and people -living inside trunks?” He rested his elbows on the table and cupped his -chin in his hands. “I feel like a dog that’s trying to chase his tail. -I’m going round and round, but can’t quite catch it.” - -“I’ve got an idea,” Peggy said suddenly. “How about combining the two -possibilities?” - -“What do you mean?” - -“Suppose he _is_ living with an old friend and has a job at the same -time—like taking care of the friend’s place of business at night?” - -Peter looked interested. “Say,” he said admiringly, “that sounds good. -But what kind of business?” - -“Something to do with—” - -“Oh, no,” Peter groaned. “Not one-eyed giants, please.” - -“It’s the only thing that makes any sense,” Peggy insisted. - -“But what sort of business is that?” Peter complained. “A freak show -someplace?” - -Before Peggy had a chance to reply, she heard her name being called out -and looked up to see a young girl on her way to their table. Peter -turned around in his seat with ill-concealed annoyance. The girl seemed -to be bubbling over with good news and was likely to stay awhile. - -“Peggy!” cried the girl. “I’m so happy for you. I just heard about your -getting the part today. When do you start on tour?” - -“Not for another five weeks,” Peggy replied, sliding over. “Won’t you -sit down?” - -The girl shook her head. “I can’t. I’ve had such an exhausting day. But -I saw you from the street and simply had to come in and tell you how -wonderful I think it is.” She reached out and put a hand on Peter’s -shoulder as he struggled to his feet. “No, please don’t get up.” She -smiled. “I’m on my way home.” - -“At least let me introduce you two,” Peggy said. “Anna, this is Peter -Grey. Peter, Anna Warwick, a friend from drama school.” - -“How do you do,” Anna said. “You’re with Mr. Stalkey’s office, aren’t -you?” Without giving Peter a chance to answer, she turned back to Peggy. -“I don’t think I’ve ever had such a day,” she confided. “You know I’m in -an off-Broadway company. We open in less than two weeks.” - -“No, I didn’t know that,” Peggy said. “Congratulations. What’s the -play?” - -Anna shrugged her shoulders. “Heavens, I don’t know. It’s a new play all -in verse. They keep changing the name every other day. Anyway, it’s in -costume and has a perfectly _huge_ cast. And that’s where the trouble -comes in. They’re trying to save money, so they brought us all down to -this horrid little junk shop to rummage around for costumes. I’ve been -there all day, and I’m simply dead on my feet.” - -“What’s the name of the place?” Peggy asked without much interest. - -“I’m sure you know it,” Anna said breezily. “You must have passed it a -hundred times. It’s just down the street here. Syd Walsh’s Theatrical -Costumes. It’s way up on the top floor of the building. I can’t tell you -how stuffy and smelly, but, my dear, they _do_ have the most fabulous -costumes. He pried open some trunks that hadn’t been looked into for -years, I suppose, and came out with—well, with exquisite materials. I -can’t think where he got them all. They must have been—” - -“Syd Walsh!” Peter almost shouted the name. “On West Forty-ninth -Street?” - -Anna looked at him in surprise. “Yes,” she said. “That’s the place.” - -Peter threw some money down on the table and slid out of the booth. -“Come on,” he said with mounting excitement. “Come on, Peggy. Let’s go.” - -Anna blinked at him and moved aside to give Peggy room. “He’s closed -now,” she said in a mystified voice. - -“I know, I know,” Peter said impatiently, grabbing Peggy by the arm. -“That’s just the right time to go.” He leaned forward and shook Anna’s -hand warmly. “Thank you. Thank you very much. I can’t tell you how much -help you’ve been. Nice meeting you. G’by.” - -“Yes, but”—Anna faltered, “I haven’t done a thing.” - -Peter patted her on the hand. “You just don’t know.” Taking Peggy by the -arm, he rushed her down the aisle and into the revolving doors at the -drugstore entrance. As she spun out into the street, Peggy caught a last -glimpse of Anna’s face as she sat bolt upright in the deserted booth. -Her look was one of complete bafflement. - -Peter guided Peggy deftly through the traffic and started up the block -with long, loping strides. - -“Peter,” Peggy cried. “What’s going on?” - -“It’s Syd Walsh,” Peter explained. An expression of absolute certainty -was on his face. “Syd Walsh is another old-timer like Tom Agate and -Johnny Dwyer. But instead of being a song-and-dance man, he was a -vaudeville magician. Sydney the Great, he called himself. He retired -years ago and started a theatrical costume and prop shop.” - -“But what makes you think—?” Peggy asked as she ran to keep up. - -“Syd Walsh,” Peter said, “was known as the tallest man in vaudeville. He -was six foot five at least. And,” Peter added significantly, “he had -only one eye. He wore a black patch for all his performances.” - -“The one-eyed giant!” Peggy breathed. - -“That’s it,” Peter said. “It all fits together now. The kings and -queens—Tom was talking about Syd’s costumes.” - -“And the trunks, too,” Peggy cried. “Memories in trunks! Old theatrical -costumes!” - -“Right,” Peter said, as they turned the corner of Forty-ninth Street. -“Tom Agate’s got a job looking after Syd Walsh’s costume shop at night. -I’m convinced of it.” - -Peter pulled to a stop in the middle of the block and scanned the -darkened buildings. “It’s right around here,” he muttered. “I remember -coming here years ago.” - -“There it is!” cred Peggy, pointing to a plate-glass window on the fifth -floor of a dingy brownstone building. Across the front of the glass was -lettered: Syd Walsh’s Theatrical Costumes. The light of a street lamp -barely caught the faded sign. - -Peter took her by the arm. “Come on,” he said. “In we go.” - -The next instant they were standing in a cramped lobby in front of the -iron grillwork of an old-fashioned elevator. Peter reached out and -pushed the button. A bell jangled down in the elevator shaft. The old -building seemed deserted. - -“How about the stairs?” For some reason, Peggy was whispering. Peter -nodded wordlessly and turned into a corridor behind the elevator. -Through the gloom of a single night light, Peggy could see stairs -leading upward. - -“Take a deep breath,” Peter advised over his shoulder. “It’s on the -fifth floor.” - -“I’m right behind you,” Peggy assured him. - -Slowly, they made their ascent. On the second floor they passed the -bolted front door of a sporting goods manufacturer. The third floor was -occupied by a firm that specialized in trimmings for ladies’ hats. The -night light on the fourth floor was out and Peggy couldn’t read the name -on the door. - -“Peter,” she whispered through the darkness, “Where are you?” - -There was a shuffling step in front of her and a hand reached out for -hers. “Here,” came the answering whisper. “Just one flight more.” - -About halfway up the last flight, Peggy felt Peter freeze. His hand -tightened over hers. Catching her breath, Peggy tried to peer through -the inky gloom. Then she heard the sound of a banjo being played. It -seemed to come from a great distance. - -Peter advanced a few more steps, made a sharp right turn, and stopped on -a landing. In front of them a thin slit of pale yellow light illuminated -the floor. They were now standing directly in front of the door that led -to Syd Walsh’s shop. From the other side Peggy heard a soft voice -singing the tune that had recently become so familiar to her. - -Moving very slowly, Peter turned the handle of the door and opened it a -crack. By crowding behind him, Peggy could see the interior of the shop. -It was a jumble of old boxes, trunks, musty figures clothed in period -costumes. Masks of all descriptions leered down from the walls, and in -one cabinet there was a shadowy row of wigs. The singing was clearer now -and Peter pushed in a little farther. - -In one corner of the room, half hidden by what Peggy assumed was a -worktable, stood a white-haired old man. One leg was planted easily on a -low stool, and cradled lovingly in his arms was a banjo. The words of -his song floated quietly through the absolute stillness of the shop and -Peggy suddenly realized that she was in the presence of a true artist—a -man who could take a simple instrument and a familiar folk melody and -weave a magic spell capable of moving an entire audience. - -The song whispered to its husky, haunting conclusion, and the old man -stood bowed over his instrument. - -Perhaps it was Peter or maybe it was some sudden movement of hers, but -the door moved forward another inch and, through the quiet, there -suddenly rang a sharp tinkle of a bell. The old man with the banjo -straightened up and whirled around to face the intruders. - -Shielding his eyes with one hand, he advanced toward the door. “Who’s -there?” he challenged. “Who is it?” - - - - - XI - A Star Comes Back - - -Directly in front of her, Peggy felt Peter grow tense, then suddenly -relax as he shouldered his way into the shop. “Mr. Agate,” he called in -a reassuring voice. “It’s all right. We don’t mean any harm.” - -Tom Agate stared at them in amazement. Peggy noticed that his eyes were -a bright china-blue that contrasted strongly with his fair complexion -and white hair. “How—” he began. “How did you manage...?” - -“To find you?” Peter said. “Well, it wasn’t easy, but this is the young -lady who did the tracking down.” He reached around and brought Peggy up -into the light. - -Tom Agate looked at both of them in turn and then slowly chuckled. -“Excuse my manners,” he said, sweeping some material from a bench. “But -I’m not used to visitors up here. I’d be interested to know how you -located me, Miss—” - -“Peggy Lane,” Peggy said, holding out her hand. “And this is Peter -Grey.” - -Tom Agate acknowledged the introductions and sat down on a three-legged -stool. “All right now,” he said. “I didn’t think anyone in the world -knew where I was. Except Syd, of course.” - -“We didn’t know either,” Peggy said, “until a few minutes ago. You see, -this morning I went out to Paradise Avenue and talked to your old -landlady.” - -“Oh, yes.” Tom nodded vigorously. “But how did you know about that?” - -“Johnny Dwyer,” Peter said simply. - -Tom Agate shook his head. “I thought he’d be one man with enough sense -to keep his mouth shut.” - -“Don’t blame Johnny,” Peggy said. “He didn’t want to say a word.” - -“Well, what made him?” - -“Peggy convinced him,” Peter said with a smile. - -Tom turned his blue eyes on Peggy and nodded slowly. “I imagine you can -be pretty persuasive if you want to be. But it’s still a long way from -Paradise Avenue to this place.” - -“Don’t I know it,” Peggy said. “Your landlady told me you had moved.” - -“She didn’t know where,” Tom said. - -“No, she didn’t,” Peggy agreed. “But she seemed to remember something -about a place called Tidewater Road.” - -Tom Agate shook his head ruefully. “That woman,” he said. “I never could -keep a thing from her. She had a nose built for prying into other -people’s business. So you went out to Tidewater, eh?” - -Peggy nodded. “I didn’t know the address so I tried all the houses.” - -“You were a brave girl,” Tom said with concern. “That’s not the best -part of town.” - -“I didn’t run into any trouble,” Peggy assured him. “Anyway, finally I -came to this nice-looking house where the woman remembered you.” - -“Yes, that would be Mrs. Mullins,” Tom said. He looked at Peggy sharply. -“But I was using a different name then.” - -“I know,” Peggy replied. “Mr. Armour. That was how she knew you.” - -Tom Agate looked puzzled. “But how did _you_ know that name?” - -“I didn’t,” Peggy told him. “But I had a picture of you. Johnny Dwyer -gave it to me.” - -“And you tracked me down with that?” Tom sounded incredulous. - -“That’s all I had to go on.” - -Tom Agate stared at the two young people in front of him and slowly -shook his head. “Well, you certainly have gone to a lot of trouble,” he -said at last. “I hope it’s been worth it to you, but I can’t imagine -what you want.” - -“We want to talk to you, Mr. Agate,” Peter said. - -Tom Agate crossed his legs and leaned back. “All right,” he said -amiably. “Go right ahead.” - -Peggy reached forward and touched Peter on the arm. “Let me say it,” she -said. When Peter nodded briefly, Peggy stood up and shifted over to a -chair beside Tom. “Mr. Agate,” she said in a low, earnest voice, “we -want you back.” - -Tom Agate looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Back where?” he -asked sharply. - -“In the theater.” - -For a long moment Tom Agate sat perfectly still, his face -expressionless. Then he slowly got up and moved away. When he turned to -face them, Peggy saw he was smiling. “Thank you, Miss Lane,” he said -gently. “Thanks for the compliment. But I’ve learned that in this life -you can’t go back.” - -“That’s not so,” Peggy declared hotly. “You can if you want to.” - -The old man looked at her tolerantly. “You may be wise for your years, -my dear. But I think I know better.” - -Peggy held her ground. “No,” she said. “The point is, you’ve got to -_want_ to come back. There’s got to be some reason.” - -Tom Agate shrugged. “Maybe. But you see, I don’t think I want to.” - -“Why not?” demanded Peggy. - -Tom frowned slightly. “You ask too many questions.” - -“Oh, Mr. Agate,” Peggy said, “I don’t want to pry into your personal -life. That’s what I told Johnny Dwyer this morning. I’m sure you had a -good reason to leave the stage. But don’t you think it’s time to -reconsider?” - -Tom returned to his stool. “All right, Miss Lane,” he said. “It’s my -turn to do some asking. Why do you think it’s time? Why _should_ I come -back?” - -Peggy accepted the challenge. “There are two reasons,” she declared. -“First of all, you’re not happy here.” She stopped him as he started to -protest. “It won’t do you any good to deny it. You’re living in a -self-imposed exile—not because you want to, but because you think you -should. As I said before, I don’t know the reasons, but I do know that -running away is no answer.” - -“Running away—” said Tom. - -Peggy nodded her head firmly. “That’s what I said. Let me finish before -you start.” Tom settled back and nodded. “The second reason,” Peggy went -on, “is that you’re needed.” - -“Who needs me?” Tom asked in a contemptuous voice. - -“I do for one,” Peggy said. “I’m just starting out in the theater, Mr. -Agate. You know so much and I know so little. When I think of the things -you could tell me—the things you could teach me!” Peggy paused and -lowered her voice. “Let me try to explain this way. Today—this -afternoon—I met a little boy. His name is Tommy Stanton. Actually, he -was the one who led me here.” - -The old man started. “Tommy!” he cried delightedly. “How is he?” - -“He’s lonely,” Peggy said. “He misses you. You taught him how to play -the banjo and he loved you for it. He’s been practicing every day, Mr. -Agate, and he’s much better than he was before. He told me to tell you -that.” - -“Tommy said that?” - -“Yes. And he said another thing. He said that he wanted you to come back -because he wanted to play for you. He’s proud of what he’s learned, but -he needs more help. Your help.” Peggy reached out and took one of Tom -Agate’s hands in hers. “In a way, we’re like Tommy Stanton. We need you -and we want you.” - -The old man sat silently, making no effort to remove his hand. “I can’t -come back with the same old routines,” he said. “People are tired of -them. They’ve heard them all a thousand times. There’s no point in -returning with the old familiar bag of tricks.” - -“But you don’t have to,” Peggy cried. “There are all sorts of new things -for you to do.” - -“What, for instance?” - -“A play. You’ve never acted in a straight play before. Think of it! Tom -Agate in a play!” - -Tom smiled wanly. “You’re very good to say all this, but I haven’t -noticed anybody beating down the doors to ask me.” - -“That’s because no one has had the imagination before. But Peter has.” - -“Peter?” - -“Yes, Peter Grey here. He works in Oscar Stalkey’s office.” - -A light seemed to flicker in the old man’s eyes. - -“Oscar Stalkey,” he said with a smile. “How is the old boy? Still as -enthusiastic as ever?” - -“Just the same, Mr. Agate,” Peter answered. “And he’s got a play for -you.” - -Tom sat up. “Did _he_ say that?” - -Peggy nodded. “Peter suggested you, and Mr. Stalkey was wild over the -idea.” - -“What’s the play?” - -“_Innocent Laughter._” - -“_Innocent Laughter!_” Tom Agate looked at Peggy and Peter in amazement. -“But that’s a hit! I understand it’s the biggest thing this season.” - -“It is,” Peggy said. “Oscar Stalkey’s forming a road company of it. I’m -to be general understudy and Peter is company manager.” - -“But what sort of a part could I play?” - -“Let me tell you about _Innocent Laughter_,” Peggy said, settling -herself in her chair. Tom Agate nodded agreement and for the next few -minutes, Peggy outlined the plot and the possibilities in the play. - -“... so you see,” she finished at last, “the part of the grandfather is -simply made to order for you.” - -“Who’s playing it now?” Tom asked. Peggy saw he was beginning to become -interested. - -“Hiram Baker,” Peter said. - -Tom Agate made a disgusted face. “But he’s no actor! I remember Hiram as -a youngster!” - -Peter laughed. “Then prove you can do better.” - -“That wouldn’t be hard,” Tom said with a chuckle. He turned to Peggy -with a smile of delight. “And you’re the understudy, eh?” Peggy nodded. -“Well, well.” He smiled. “Your first real break?” - -“With a professional company—yes.” - -“I’d like to hear you read sometime.” - -Peggy jumped to her feet and began rummaging through her handbag. “Why -not right now!” she cried. “We can do the scene between the young girl -and her grandfather.” - -“We?” Tom exclaimed. - -“Well, I can’t do the scene all by myself, can I?” said Peggy, with a -quick look at Peter. “Somebody’s got to read the other lines.” - -Tom laughed. “All right,” he said. “I’ll humor you. Give me the script.” - -“Here,” Peter said, stepping forward. “I’ve got an extra copy. You keep -yours, Peggy.” Peter paced over to one side of the room. “Let me explain -what the set looks like. We’ll pretend that this is a door. And you’re -sitting over there by the fire....” - -In a few quick words Peter sketched in the scene for Tom Agate. The old -man followed every word, nodding intermittently. - -“I see,” he said at last. “Let’s try it.” He looked over at Peggy. “Are -you all set?” - -Peggy nodded and said, “Start reading your lines when you hear me sigh.” -She found her place in the script and took a deep breath. The tiny -darkened shop with its strange shapes and musty odor was very quiet and, -in an odd way, relaxing. With street noises mute and far away, the room -seemed somehow warm and cozy, and Peggy approached the scene ahead with -anticipation and confidence. Quietly, she made her way through the -imaginary door, walked over to the imaginary window, and looked out. She -sighed softly. - -From the other side of the room, she could hear Tom Agate turn slowly in -his chair. “‘Why did you come in so quietly?’” he read. His voice was -rich and warm. “‘You’re as furtive as a lady burglar tonight.’” Here Tom -added a note of gentle humor. “‘What’s wrong?’” The last phrase was said -perfectly, with just the right amount of concern, but not too -inquisitive. - -“‘Oh,’” Peggy heard herself saying, “‘I didn’t know anybody was here.’” -That was the way! That was the way she had wanted to say it at the -audition! - -“‘I’ll go if you like.’” - -Suddenly the play had real meaning for Peggy. It became important for -her “grandfather” to stay. “‘Oh no!’” she cried in a voice of alarm. -Then more quietly. “‘Please don’t. There’s—there’s something I want to -talk to you about.’” - -The scene continued and this time there was no one to stop them. The end -came when Peggy, as the young granddaughter, threw herself down on the -floor beside her grandfather and began to cry. To her surprise, real -tears came to her eyes. - -“‘I’m sorry,’” she gulped. “‘I didn’t mean to cry.’” - -Above her, Tom Agate, still in the role of the grandfather, reached down -and touched her hair. “‘There, there,’” he read. “‘A person should -always have somebody to cry with. It does the heart good. I may not be -that perfect person, but maybe I’ll do for tonight.’” Tom Agate put his -hand gently on her shoulder. “‘There, there,’” he repeated. - -And that was the end of the scene. - - -In the breathless hush that followed, Peggy couldn’t trust herself to -speak. Even Peter, who never seemed at a loss for words, was silent. But -eventually, he put into words what they all knew. - -“That was beautiful,” he said in an oddly choked voice. “Simply -beautiful. It’s the way the scene was meant to be played all the time.” -He reached down, helped Peggy to her feet, and shook Tom Agate’s hand. -“Sir,” he said earnestly, “you were magnificent.” - -Tom Agate passed a hand over his face. His eyes were lighted with a shy -smile of delight. “Nothing to it,” he said. “After all, look at the help -I had.” He cocked a quizzical glance at Peter. “Do you mean to say that -this girl here”—he waved a hand at Peggy—“isn’t playing the part of the -daughter?” - -“I’m afraid not,” Peter admitted. “Just the understudy.” - -Tom shook his head. “What a waste!” - -“It certainly is,” Peter replied. “But Oscar Stalkey thinks she needs -some more experience. And the right people to work with,” he added -significantly. - -“Has he heard her read?” - -“He hired her,” Peter pointed out. “He must think she’s pretty fair.” - -Peggy felt it was time to interrupt. “Look here, you two,” she broke in. -“If you’re quite finished talking about me as if I weren’t here, maybe -we can get back to business.” - -The two men looked at her. “What business?” Tom demanded. - -“Will you try out for the part of the grandfather?” - -Tom Agate smiled and walked to one corner of the room. “It’s a marvelous -part,” he said indecisively. - -“And you’re marvelous in it,” Peggy insisted. “Say you’ll do it.” - -Tom looked at Peter seriously. “Did Oscar say he wanted me?” - -“Yes, he did,” Peter assured him. - -Tom moved back across the room, walking with the easy step of someone -half his years. Peggy saw that his face was flushed and his eyes were -sparkling with an inner excitement she could only guess at. - -He stopped abruptly and held out his hands to them. “All right,” he said -with unexpected forcefulness. “I’ll give it a try.” - -Peggy ran over to him. “You promise?” she said. “You won’t change your -mind?” - -Tom shook his head firmly. “No, Peggy. When I give my word, you can bank -on it.” - -Peggy whirled and grabbed Peter by the arm. “Oh, Peter!” she cried. -“Isn’t it wonderful!” The three of them stood grinning foolishly at one -another like three mischievous children who have just invented an -especially wonderful game. - -Tom Agate was the first to break away. “Well, now,” he said, picking up -the script, “might as well get to work. I’ll want to read this before -morning. When does Stalkey expect us?” - -“Auditions are scheduled for ten o’clock at the Elgin Theater.” - -Tom nodded with satisfaction. “Good. I’ll be there.” He looked at Peggy -anxiously. “You’ll read the part with me, won’t you? Just like tonight?” - -Peggy appealed to Peter. “What do you think?” she asked. - -“No problem there,” he assured them. - -“Good.” Tom flipped open the script and ran his thumb down the edges of -the paper. “Incidentally,” he said, “who else is in it?” - -“Emily Burckhardt is playing the grandmother,” Peter told him. - -Tom beamed with pleasure. “That’s nice,” he said. “I haven’t seen Emily -for years. What about the daughter?” - -“Marcy Hubbard.” - -Tom shook his head. “Don’t know her.” - -“She’s a newcomer. I’m afraid we’re going to lose her to Hollywood.” - -“All the better,” Tom cried gaily. “Then Peggy can play the part. How -about the mother? I see she’s got a big part.” - -“It _is_ a big part,” Peter admitted. “We’re centering the play around -her.” - -Tom frowned. “Is that a good idea? Just from the little I’ve read, I -would have thought that the play belonged to the old woman.” - -“Well, we’ve got a big name, you see,” Peter explained. - -Tom nodded understandingly. “Who is it?” - -“Katherine Nelson.” - -The transformation in Tom came without warning. All color left him and -his face suddenly became drawn and old. “Who did you say?” he whispered -in a small, shocked voice. - -“Katherine Nelson,” Peter repeated. “Why?” - -It seemed an effort for Tom to breathe. The script fell from his hand as -he slowly rose to his feet. He shook his head like a drunken man. “No,” -he murmured thickly. “I—I can’t.” - -Peggy stepped forward. “Can’t what?” she asked in a concerned voice. -“Are you all right?” - -Tom waved her away. “I can’t be in the play,” he intoned dully. “I won’t -be there tomorrow.” - -Peggy looked at him incredulously. “But you promised!” she said -accusingly. - -“I don’t care,” Tom said. “Please—go away now.” - -Peggy reached out and took him by the shoulder. “No,” she said urgently. -“You can’t do this. I don’t know what’s upset you, but you’ve just _got_ -to be there tomorrow morning. Try and face it, whatever it is.” She gave -him a gentle shake. “For your sake as well as ours.” - -The old man looked at her sadly. “My dear,” he said wistfully, “you -don’t know what you’re asking.” - -“I know I don’t,” Peggy said. “But we’re depending on you.” - -Tom Agate seemed to stand a little straighter even though the hurt look -still lingered in his eyes. He gazed at Peggy steadfastly and sighed. -“You remind me of someone,” he said at last. “Someone—I knew a long time -ago. Will you be there tomorrow?” - -“Yes,” Peggy said quietly. - -“Do you promise?” - -Peggy nodded. “I promise.” - -Torn seemed satisfied. “All right then,” he said. “I’ll be there. But, -please, don’t let me down.” - -Peggy took her hand away. “I won’t,” she said gently. “You can trust -me.” - - - - - XII - Tom’s Tryout - - -The theater the next morning seemed full of old men, all of them there -to try out for the part of the grandfather. Peggy arrived shortly before -ten o’clock, and after scanning the rows of seats for Tom Agate, sank -down in an aisle seat toward the back. Promptly at ten, Craig Claiborne -began the auditions. The same bored assistant stage manager who had read -with Peggy two days earlier took his place behind the plain table on -stage and began to read with each candidate. Fortunately, it was the -same scene Peggy had read with Tom the night before. - -One after another, the old men trudged up to the stage and went through -the lines that had now become so familiar to Peggy. Some were better -than others, but all lacked the authority, the fire the part demanded. - -At ten-thirty, just as Peggy was beginning to grow anxious, a tall -figure dropped into the empty seat beside her. “Has he come yet?” It was -Peter Grey and he seemed equally worried. - -“No,” Peggy whispered. “Will they wait for him?” - -Peter shook his head briefly. “I haven’t even told Mr. Stalkey he’s -coming. I was afraid he wouldn’t show up.” - -“How much longer do we have?” - -“If he’s not here in the next half hour, we’ll have to give it up.” - -Peggy was suddenly struck by an idea. “Peter!” she said. “Did you give -his name to the doorman? They won’t let him in if he’s not on the list.” - -Peter grinned down at her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “All taken care of.” - -Peggy sat back and tried to concentrate on the auditions. When she saw -that the last of the actors was approaching the stage, she turned -uneasily in her seat to look toward the rear of the theater. That was -when she saw Tom standing quietly behind the curtains that separated the -inner lobby from the orchestra. Without taking her eyes off Tom, she -reached out and touched Peter on the sleeve of his jacket. - -“Look,” she said in a triumphant whisper. “Look behind you, Peter. He’s -come.” - -Peter swiveled in his seat, saw Tom, and leaped to his feet. “You talk -to him,” he ordered, “While I go tell Mr. Stalkey.” - -Peggy slid out into the aisle and walked slowly back to Tom Agate. He -saw her coming and nodded a shy greeting. “Hello,” he said quietly. - -Peggy held out her hand. “I’m glad you came.” - -Tom nodded briefly. “I almost didn’t make it,” he said with a nervous -laugh. “If it hadn’t been for that promise....” He trailed off and shook -his head. - -“Well, you’re here now,” Peggy said, slipping her arm through his. “Come -on and sit down. I think they’re almost ready for us.” She could feel -Tom shiver as they walked down the aisle. - -“How were the auditions?” he asked, almost hopefully, it seemed to -Peggy. “Did Oscar find anyone?” - -“Mr. Stalkey doesn’t take me into his confidence,” Peggy replied with a -smile, “but I don’t think so.” - -Tom didn’t say a word, but hunched into a seat beside Peggy. In his lap -he held a copy of the script of _Innocent Laughter_. Down in front Peggy -saw Peter Grey leaning over Oscar Stalkey and Craig Claiborne. The three -of them seemed deep in conversation. Suddenly Oscar Stalkey gave a -little jerk of his head and came up the aisle with the quick steps Peggy -remembered so well from her interview in his office. Tom Agate -straightened in his seat, uncertain of what to do. - -Oscar Stalkey settled the problem by gripping the old man’s hand warmly. -“Hello, Tom,” he said, and Peggy heard genuine affection and respect in -his tone. “How have you been keeping yourself?” - -Tom struggled to his feet, a flush of pleasure creeping over his face. -“Fine, Oscar,” he answered. “Just fine. Congratulations on a fine play.” - -“Thanks,” Oscar Stalkey said. “What about the part of the grandfather? -Think you’d like to play it?” - -“Don’t know if I can, Oscar.” - -The producer laughed. “That’s not what I heard. Peter Grey said you were -great.” - -“It’s nice of him to say so,” Tom murmured. - -“How about going over a scene or two for us now?” Oscar Stalkey took him -by the arm and led him toward the stage. “But first I’d like you to meet -Craig Claiborne, our director.” - -Tom seemed reluctant to follow Oscar Stalkey. “There’s one favor....” he -said tentatively. - -“Anything at all,” the producer declared expansively. “You name it.” - -“I’d like to read the scene with Miss Lane.” - -Oscar Stalkey shot a quick glance at Peggy and turned back to Tom. “Sure -thing, Tom,” he said, putting his hand on the old actor’s shoulder. -“When do you want to start?” - -Tom smiled. “Might as well get it over with,” he declared. “Peggy?” he -said questioningly. “Are you ready?” - -Peggy nodded and stood up. The three of them walked slowly down to the -edge of the stage where Oscar Stalkey made hurried introductions. A few -moments later, Peggy found herself back behind the door waiting for -Craig Claiborne’s cue. Two days ago she had been so frightened that she -could hardly move. But now all that had vanished. It was a calm and -confident Peggy who pushed open the door when Craig Claiborne gave the -word. - -Peggy moved effortlessly through the lines, feeling every pause and -groping for exactly the right intonation on every phrase, every word. -The big theater was hushed as the white-haired veteran and the newcomer -built slowly but surely to the moving climax. But Peggy didn’t notice -any of that. Except for the small circle of light that was the playing -area, the world ceased to exist, She didn’t even stop to think that she -was playing a scene from Broadway’s biggest hit play on the stage of one -of New York’s most famous theaters. For the past few years she had -dreamed of doing this, but now that the day had arrived, she was so -caught up in the powerful emotions of acting that it never once occurred -to her that her dreams had suddenly turned into reality. - -The scene slowly drew to a close as Peggy knelt beside Tom. Just as on -the night before, she could feel his hand gently stroking her hair. The -two of them held their positions for maybe half a minute and then Peggy -scrambled to her feet, wondering how things had gone. The first hint -came when she glanced over at the wings to see three or four stagehands -grouped silently beyond the ropes that operated the front curtain. Mr. -Fox, the assistant stage manager, was still sitting behind his table, -looking like a man hypnotized. No one moved. - -Then from the seats out front Peggy heard someone blow his nose. The -next instant Mr. Stalkey came leaping up the steps, his eyes -suspiciously bright. - -“Tom,” he said, coming directly to the point, “will you take the part?” - -Tom blinked and stood up. “Are you really sure?” he asked. “Sure you -want me?” - -Mr. Stalkey opened his eyes. “Want you!” he exclaimed. “Let me tell you -something. I must have seen this play a hundred times, but this morning -for the first time you’ve shown me how this scene should be played. -Let’s go up to the office and talk business.” He threw an arm around the -old man’s shoulder and started to walk him off stage. - -Watching Tom Agate’s face was an experience Peggy never forgot. When she -had first seen him the night before he was a lost soul without the will -or the ability to venture far from the airless confines of Syd Walsh’s -shop. But now he looked alive and alert, like a man who had rediscovered -himself and was proud of it. - -Then, suddenly, Peggy saw his body tremble and sway. For a moment she -thought he had been taken ill and made a move forward to help him. It -was then that she saw what the trouble was. - -Standing in the doorway leading to the backstage area, her hands -clenched tightly together, was Katherine Nelson. - -Stamped across her face was a look of such unutterable shock, mingled -with pain and fear, that for a brief moment Peggy felt sorry for her. -Then slowly the color crept back into her cheeks and she took a step -forward. - -Oscar Stalkey, who seemed blissfully unaware of what was happening, -welcomed her eagerly. “You’ve just missed the greatest audition of all -time,” he said jovially. “But don’t worry, it’s a performance you’ll see -a lot of over the next few months. Katherine, I’d like you to meet Tom -Agate.” - -Katherine Nelson ignored Tom completely. “What do you mean?” she said in -a voice that she was obviously controlling at great effort. “What kind -of audition?” - -“Why, Tom Agate has just read for the grandfather in _Innocent -Laughter_,” explained Stalkey. “And, I might add, has got the part.” -Katherine Nelson stepped back as though she had been struck in the face. -“By the way,” he continued blandly, “do you two know each other?” - -“Know each other!” Katherine Nelson breathed. She turned on Stalkey in -sudden fury. “What are you trying to do to me?” she grated. “Ruin my -career? Make a laughingstock of me?” - -Oscar Stalkey looked bewildered. “Why, my dear,” he temporized, “I don’t -know what you’re talking about. And I don’t think you do either!” - -“A vaudeville song-and-dance man!” Katherine Nelson said and her voice -was heavy with scorn. “A broken-down old has-been who probably can’t -even remember his lines! This is what you want to put into one of my -plays? Never!” She advanced toward Oscar Stalkey, her eyes flashing. -“Either he goes or I go! I will not play in the same company with that -man!” - -Oscar Stalkey held his ground firmly, but Tom Agate cringed away. “Look, -Oscar,” he said dully, “she’s probably right. Let’s just forget about -the whole—” - -“Be quiet, both of you!” the producer thundered. Peggy noticed that his -face was as flushed as Katherine Nelson’s. “Now you listen to me, -Katherine. I’m still the producer of _Innocent Laughter_ and _I_ make -the decisions about who goes into the cast and who doesn’t. Tom Agate is -perfect for the part of the grandfather. Furthermore, he’s got a name -that still has drawing power. Maybe it’s not as big a name as yours, but -it’ll do, and I’m willing to gamble on him. As for you, you’ve got a -contract. Now, if you want to break it, I’ll give you permission to go -right ahead. You can come up to the office right now and we can tear it -up together. But if you do”—Oscar Stalkey lowered his voice in -warning—“you’ll never be in another one of my shows. You know perfectly -well what _Innocent Laughter_ can do for you. You’ll have a success -again—for the first time in quite a while. And believe me, Katherine, -you _need_ a success.” - -For a long moment Katherine Nelson was speechless. Finally, in a voice -that was noticeably shaking, she asked, “Is that your final word?” - -“It is,” Stalkey replied firmly. - -The actress swayed, caught herself, then turned to Tom Agate. “All -right,” she said in a low voice, keeping her eyes on Tom. “I’ll agree to -what you want. But only on one condition.” - -“What’s that?” - -Katherine Nelson spoke slowly but with withering effect. “That I have -nothing to do with Tom Agate—except during rehearsals and performance. -That I won’t speak to him—look at him—or touch him. Is that understood?” - -Oscar Stalkey frowned, started to say something, then changed his mind. -“Suit yourself,” he said at last. “Of course, I don’t know how Tom -feels—” - -Tom, who had lowered his eyes under Katherine Nelson’s scathing attack, -straightened visibly. His face was grave and serious, but he was no -longer cowering. He seemed to have come to some sort of inner decision. -He returned Katherine Nelson’s contemptuous stare squarely. - -“Very well, Katherine,” he said firmly. “You can live like that if you -like. I won’t stop you. But listen to me. Whatever you do, don’t cut -yourself off. I’ve been through it. I know what it’s like.” He lowered -his voice to a gentle whisper. “Besides, it doesn’t help.” - -Katherine Nelson turned without a word and walked slowly away. Her face -was a wooden mask that hid—what? Peggy wondered. - - - - - XIII - The Ordeal - - -Katherine Nelson was as good as her word. In the hectic days that -followed, she never spoke to Tom Agate unless it was absolutely -necessary. Her manner was cold, aloof, and imperious. She listened to -Craig Claiborne whenever he directed her, but seldom followed his -advice. With the older members of the cast she was icily polite, a pose -that was frequently shattered by violent outbursts of temper. As for -Peggy, Katherine Nelson studiously ignored her. Peter Grey explained it -by saying that the actress had discovered it was Peggy who was largely -responsible for Tom’s presence in the cast. - -Actually, Peggy didn’t see much of Peter. Both he and Pam were too busy -with the thousands of chores that go with sending a theatrical company -on the road. The only other person in the company, aside from Pam, who -was close to Peggy’s age was Marcy Hubbard, the girl playing the part of -the young daughter. Marcy was a breath-takingly beautiful girl with a -clever sense of timing and a pleasant, friendly, off stage manner, but -Peggy never got to know her well. Marcy, very much in love and recently -engaged, spent every available spare moment with her fiancé, a quiet -young man who picked her up at the theater immediately after rehearsals. - -This left only Amy, May Berriman, and Randy Brewster to talk to. Not -that they weren’t eager listeners. But because they never had a chance -to see any of the rehearsals, Peggy was forced to go into great detail -in order to answer their many questions. - -“You mean to say that she _never_ speaks to him?” Amy asked one evening, -during the second week of rehearsals. They were sitting in May -Berriman’s private sitting room on the ground floor of the Gramercy -Arms. Amy, Peggy, and Randy had all been to dinner together, and when -they came back May had seen them and invited them in for coffee. - -“She hardly ever speaks to anyone,” Peggy said. “I’ve never seen -anything like it.” - -“Goodness,” Amy said wonderingly. “That must put a strain on things.” - -“You don’t know,” Peggy answered. “It’s as if we were rehearsing a play -about the end of the world or something—not a romantic comedy that -should be full of laughs.” - -“How do you get along with her?” - -“Me? Like everybody else. I’ve got one tiny scene in the first act. I -come in with Marcy, who’s supposed to introduce me to her mother—that’s -Katherine Nelson. We say a few words to each other and then I go out -again.” - -“How does that go?” Randy asked, balancing his cup and saucer in one -hand. “If I remember rightly you have one or two nice lines.” - -“I did have, you mean,” Peggy said moodily. “Katherine Nelson insisted -on cutting them.” - -May Berriman arched her eyebrows. “How did she manage that?” - -“She said I wasn’t doing them right.” - -“Were you?” - -Peggy looked at them helplessly. “No,” she said, “I guess I wasn’t. But -I don’t think anybody could,” she added stoutly. “You see, when I come -on to meet the mother, Katherine Nelson doesn’t even look at me.” - -“Where _does_ she look?” Amy demanded. - -Peggy touched her right ear. “She keeps staring at a spot just about -here. Her face never changes expression, and her eyes look positively -glassy. Now, how can you react to someone like that?” - -“It sounds as though she were some sort of mechanical doll,” Randy said. - -“That’s exactly it!” Peggy cried. “We’re all mechanical people. We go -through the right motions and say the right words, but it’s all so -stiff—without any life or warmth.” - -“Even Tom Agate?” May asked. - -Peggy’s face softened. “No,” she said quietly. “He’s wonderful. I don’t -know how he does it. He’s the only one with any spark to his -performance. It’s a joy to see him come out on stage.” She shook her -head wonderingly. “I think that man could act with a stone statue.” - - -In Oscar Stalkey’s office, two men were pacing back and forth -restlessly. One of them was Stalkey himself, but then he always paced. -The other was Craig Claiborne, who was usually relaxed and easygoing. -The director threw out an impatient hand. “It just won’t work, Oscar!” -he said. “I’ve tried everything, but that woman stiffens them all up -like blocks of ice. She won’t do a thing I tell her, and as a result, -this so-called comedy we’re about to take out on the road sounds like a -dramatized version of an obituary column.” - -“Now, now,” Oscar Stalkey soothed. “It can’t be as bad as all that.” But -his face looked drawn, worried. - -“Come on, Oscar,” Claiborne said. “You know it is.” - -Oscar Stalkey sighed heavily. “Maybe it’ll get better,” he said -hopefully. “You know, with opening night and all, there’s bound to be -some excitement.” - -The director shook his head with stark finality. “Opening night is just -around the corner,” he said, “and they’re getting worse. Every last one -of them. Except,” he added hastily, “Tom Agate. What a remarkable old -man!” - - -“Three weeks in Baltimore!” Peter looked up from the pile of papers on -his desk and laughed bitterly. “We’ll be lucky to last three nights!” - -At the other end of the office Pam Mundy’s fingers kept up a steady -tattoo over the keys of her typewriter. She didn’t bother to answer. She -knew he was right. - - -Oscar Stalkey didn’t quite know how to begin. He prowled uncertainly -along the bookcases lining one side of his office, trying to keep his -temper in check and his voice low. Sitting in the most comfortable chair -in the room, Katherine Nelson watched him steadily and waited for him to -speak. - -At last he asked the question that had been preying on his mind for the -past two weeks. “Why?” he said simply. “Why are you doing this?” - -“Doing what?” Katherine Nelson inquired innocently. - -Stalkey gave an exasperated shake of his head. “You know perfectly well. -The play’s going to pieces.” - -She crossed her legs and returned his pleading stare with a bland smile. -“Are you suggesting it’s my fault?” she asked. - -“Of course I am!” the producer exploded. “Whose fault d’you think it -is?” - -“Now that’s very interesting,” the actress said coolly. “Supposing we go -over my so-called shortcomings. First of all, have I ever missed a -rehearsal—or even been late for one?” - -“No,” Stalkey admitted uncomfortably. “But—” - -“Let me finish,” Katherine Nelson insisted. “There’s been no trouble -with my lines. I know them perfectly. Now, I admit I’ve had some -disagreements with Craig Claiborne. He’s wanted me to do some things I -don’t like.” - -“And so you didn’t,” Stalkey concluded gloomily. - -“No, I didn’t,” Katherine Nelson said cheerfully. “But why should I -follow his orders like a robot? After all, I’ve had thirty years of -experience in the theater. I’m an established star. Surely I’ve got some -right to express myself in my own way. Be reasonable, Oscar.” - -“Well, what about the other people in the cast? You treat them like -dirt.” - -Katherine Nelson looked shocked. “I do not,” she declared. “I haven’t -said a word to them.” - -“That’s the whole trouble. You completely ignore them.” - -The actress looked pained. She leaned forward in her chair and spoke -intensely. “I’m a professional, Oscar. The theater is my business. I -don’t go to rehearsals to socialize or have a good time. I’m there to -work. And I expect others to do the same.” - -Oscar Stalkey threw up his hands. “Have it your own way, Katherine, but -something’s all wrong. I know it and so do you. You’re not the only -professional in the cast. Emily Burckhardt’s been in the theater as long -as you have and she’s upset.” - -“Poor Emily,” Katherine Nelson said sweetly. “Her trouble is that she’s -got to play so many scenes with that horrible man.” - -Stalkey glanced at her shrewdly. “Tom Agate?” - -Katherine Nelson didn’t answer. She smiled instead. - - -“... Oh, it all _sounds_ reasonable enough,” Stalkey said later that -day. He and Craig Claiborne were having a conference after rehearsal. -“She claims she has her own way of working, and that she’s building up -to a performance. She’s terribly, terribly sorry that the others are -having such a hard time, but it’s not her fault.” The producer’s voice -was heavy with sarcasm. - -Craig Claiborne was more direct. He only said one word. - -“Nuts.” - - -“I’ve seen it happen before,” May said thoughtfully. They were entering -the third week of rehearsals, and Peggy had made it a habit to report to -May every night. The older woman’s advice was usually sympathetic and -helpful. “I can see her little game just as clearly as if it were -written on the wall.” - -“But what is it?” Peggy asked. “I’ve never known anything like this -before. Honestly, it’s gotten so I _hate_ to go to rehearsals in the -morning. The atmosphere in that theater is simply loaded with -bitterness. Everybody’s on edge.” - -“Except Katherine Nelson. I bet she’s all sweetness and light.” - -Peggy looked at her in astonishment. “How did you know that?” - -May smiled. “I told you. I know what she’s up to. Look, Peggy, she wants -to get rid of Tom Agate, and she doesn’t care whom she hurts in the -process. She’s deliberately throwing everybody off balance by giving a -technically perfect but cold performance. You just wait until opening -night, though. Because of the way she’s been acting, everyone in the -cast will have a terrible case of first-night jitters. But not our girl. -Not Katherine Nelson. That night, she’ll open up and play the part with -everything she’s got. The result?” May smiled bitterly. “She’ll be the -heroine of the hour. Then she can go up to Oscar Stalkey and say, ‘See, -I told you so. I was fine. It’s the others that are bad.’ And he’ll have -to listen to her because she’ll be speaking from a position of -strength.” - -“But what good will that do?” Peggy asked. - -“She’ll put on pressure to fire Tom Agate. And Oscar Stalkey will have -to do it, too. Reluctantly, he’ll ask for Tom’s resignation.” - -“But Tom’s so good,” Peggy protested. “He’s the only one in the cast who -isn’t being affected by her.” - -May shook her doubtfully. “He’s only human,” she said. “I’m afraid the -strain is going to show.” - - -May was right. Tom began to fall to pieces during the next rehearsal. -Where he had once been alive and vital, he now read his lines unevenly, -in a lackluster mumble. In the second act, he completely forgot one of -his lines, and in the third act he forgot to come in on his entrance. -That was when Craig Claiborne lost his temper and bawled him out in -front of the other members of the cast. During the tirade, Peggy stole a -glance at Katherine Nelson. The actress was standing perfectly still, an -unholy gleam in her eyes. - - - - - XIV - The Secret - - -Craig Claiborne was slumped deep in the easy chair in Oscar Stalkey’s -office. A look of troubled guilt was stamped across his face. “I -apologized later,” he was saying to the producer, who for once was not -pacing. He was sitting across from his director, chewing nervously on -the stump of a cold cigar, looking haggard and careworn. - -“What did he say?” Stalkey asked. - -“He mumbled something about its all being his fault and shuffled out.” - -“Where did he go?” - -“How the devil should I know? I’m not his nurse.” Claiborne passed a -weary hand over his forehead. “I’m sorry, Oscar. I didn’t mean to snap -at you. But this thing’s got us all to the breaking point.” He paused -and looked at the producer steadily. “Have you thought of asking for -Katherine Nelson’s resignation?” - -Stalkey removed the cigar from his mouth. “On what grounds?” he shot -back. “Yes, I’ve hinted at it,” he added morosely. “But she laughed at -me. She said she’d never resign.” - -“Did you threaten to fire her?” - -“I didn’t have to. She told me that if I tried to get rid of her she’d -raise such a fuss the show would never open.” - -“But that’s all bluff.” - -Stalkey sighed. “Maybe. But she threatened to sue me and drag the whole -thing into court.” - -“But—I don’t understand her attitude.” - -“Neither do I!” Stalkey said. “I don’t know what she hopes to -accomplish. It won’t do her any good to have the play flop.” The -producer changed the subject abruptly. “What about Tom? Do you think -he’ll be back?” - -Claiborne shook his head. “We’ll see.” - - -It was nearly a quarter of three and Tom Agate still hadn’t appeared. -Their nerves frayed and their tempers short, the rest of the cast went -through some scenes where Tom wasn’t needed. Finally, just a few minutes -before the hour, the back doors of the theater opened and Tom came -striding purposefully down the aisle. On stage, the cast members greeted -his arrival with smiles of relief. All except Katherine Nelson. She drew -in her breath sharply, marched over to a chair, and sat down -forbiddingly. - -“Sorry I’m late,” Tom apologized. “But the train broke down.” - -“That’s no excuse,” came a cold, hard voice. “You’ve kept us waiting for -nearly an hour. If you don’t have more of a sense of responsibility than -that, you should get out!” - -In the silence that followed, Tom went up to Katherine Nelson and looked -down at her. An expression of sorrow, mingled with pity, crossed his -face. “It won’t work, Katherine,” he said softly. “I’m in this to the -finish.” He turned away abruptly and signaled Craig Claiborne. “I’m -ready whenever you are.” - -“All right,” Craig announced. “We’ll do the scene between the -grandfather and the daughter. Marcy! Let’s go!” - -Peggy, who had come to look upon this scene almost as her private -property, stood in the wings and watched it unfold. She had seen it so -many times before, knew every line of dialogue and every movement, but -she still loved it. - -As soon as Tom came on stage, it was evident that he had regained the -confidence that he had lost yesterday. His rich, deep voice colored the -empty theater, making it glow with warmth and life. Peggy smiled to -herself and settled down to watch. It soon became clear that this was -the finest performance Tom had given yet. It was almost as if he wanted -to make up for the day before. Everyone in the theater stood engrossed -as the two actors went through their scene. - -Halfway through the scene, Peggy suddenly realized she wasn’t alone. -Standing a few feet away from her, half hidden by the backstage gloom, -was Katherine Nelson. Her eyes never left Tom Agate, and as Peggy -watched, the older actress’s face softened in an infinitely sad and -tender half-smile. Peggy had never seen her look like that before. She -was almost in tears. Then, abruptly, Katherine Nelson turned and moved -quickly out of sight to her dressing room. Peggy thought she heard a -stifled sob. - -The young girl stared after her with a puzzled frown. “Now what,” she -murmured to herself, “do you suppose that means?” - - -“I went to see Tommy today,” Tom was saying to Peggy later that -afternoon. They were standing in the little alley behind the theater, -taking a quick breath of fresh air before going back to rehearsal. - -“Tommy?” Peggy asked, trying to place the name. - -“You remember,” Tom said. “Tommy Stanton. Out on Tidewater Road. You -were the one who told me that he wanted to see me again.” - -Peggy brightened. “Oh, Tommy! Of course. Was he glad you came?” - -Tom Agate smiled, obviously pleased by what had happened. “Yes, I think -he was. He played me some of our old songs on the banjo, and I gave him -another lesson.” - -“He must have been surprised.” - -“That’s a funny thing. He wasn’t. He was certain I’d be out soon, -because you had promised it. He said he never gave up knowing that I’d -be back.” Tom shook his head in wonder. “That little boy taught me an -important lesson. You know, I was ready to give up yesterday. I wanted -to quit the company.” When Peggy didn’t say anything, Tom went on. “Yes, -I thought there wasn’t any use in going on. What was the point? But -Tommy gave me back the faith I’d lost. I don’t know where he gets so -much courage. He doesn’t have a very happy life.” - -“I didn’t know that,” Peggy said. “What’s wrong?” - -“He’s alone so much of the time,” Tom explained. “The family’s terribly -poor, and both his mother and father go out to work all day. They don’t -want him out on the street and there isn’t much to do alone in the -house. That’s why he loves the banjo so much. It gives him an interest.” -Tom laughed. “You know, he wanted to come away with me. He said he was -going to visit me sometime and see all the kings and queens. He was -especially eager to meet the one-eyed giant.” - -“I’m sure he was.” Peggy laughed. “What did you say?” - -“I told him it was a long way off and not to try. But he said he didn’t -care. He knew where it was.” - -“I wonder what he meant by that?” - -“I don’t know. When we said good-by, he told me not to be lonely. -Imagine! Him telling that to me. He said he’d see me soon—after he -learned the new song I’d taught him.” - -The two of them stood quietly in the dingy alleyway, wrapped in their -private thoughts. Peggy drew her coat up around her neck. Fall had -turned to winter, and there was just a hint of snow in the air. - - -Emily Burckhardt resigned the next afternoon. Surprisingly, Oscar -Stalkey accepted her decision without protest. “I can’t blame you, -Emily,” he told her. - -“That woman is just impossible,” Emily said. She stated it as a fact, -simply and without rancor. “If you don’t get her out of the play, you -might as well not bother sending it out on tour.” - -Oscar Stalkey nodded. “I know. But I’m going to give her another two -days. Things might work themselves out by that time.” - -Emily Burckhardt looked doubtful but kept silent. “Have you any thoughts -about my replacement?” she asked. - -“Yes, I am considering Enid Partridge. She’s free and I think she’d do a -nice job.” - -Emily nodded in agreement. “Good choice.” She extended her hand. “Again, -let me tell you how sorry I am about leaving, but you know how it is.” - -“Just a minute, Emily. Do you like the part of the grandmother? I mean -if it wasn’t for the other thing....” - -“I love it,” Emily said with a shrug. “I would have enjoyed playing it.” - -Stalkey smiled. “Well then, it’s not all bad news, anyway.” - -“I don’t know what you mean.” - -“The present company—the one that’s in New York now—has been booked to -open in London. Paula Howard doesn’t want to leave the country. She’s -doing a fine job as the grandmother here, but doesn’t think she’s up to -making the trip. She wants to resign the part.” - -Emily brightened considerably. “And you want me to take her place?” she -asked. - -Stalkey nodded. “What about it?” - -Emily nodded her head emphatically. “When do we leave?” - -“Not for another six months. Although Paula wants out right away. Do you -think you could take over in two weeks, say?” - -“I could take over right now,” Emily declared. - -Oscar Stalkey sighed. “Good. At least that’s one thing off my mind.” - -“Tell me something, Oscar,” Emily asked curiously. “The New York company -is scheduled to go to London in six months. How are you planning to -replace them here?” - -“I had thought of bringing in the Chicago road company. But now”—Oscar -Stalkey shook his head darkly—“I don’t know. We’ll cross that bridge -later.” - -“There’s one more thing you ought to know,” Emily said. “Marcy Hubbard -is thinking of quitting.” - -Oscar Stalkey drew a deep breath. “Did she tell you that?” - -Emily nodded. “She thinks it would be bad for her career to open in a -play that’s as bad as this.” - -“Oh, she does, does she?” the producer said grimly. - -“Don’t blame her, Oscar,” Emily urged. “Besides, she’s had a very -attractive offer from Hollywood.” - -Oscar Stalkey sighed. “Let her go, if she wants to. That’s one problem -I’m not worried about. I know who’ll take her part.” - -“Who?” - -“Peggy Lane.” - - -Stalkey made the announcement of Emily Burckhardt’s resignation late -that afternoon. The cast was shocked by the news and sat in numbed -surprise. After that, Craig Claiborne excused them and posted a notice -for ten o’clock the following morning. Slowly, everyone left the -theater, struggling into heavy coats as they prepared to face a swirling -snowstorm that had struck New York about noon that day. - -Peggy didn’t leave the theater at once. She hunched in one of the seats -of the auditorium, thinking about the past three and a half weeks. It -seemed impossible that they would be opening in ten days. Half her life -she had been looking forward to the day when she would be rehearsing a -play with a professional company. She had imagined the fun of working -together, the excitement of the big night approaching. But instead of -what her imagination had led her to expect, she was left with an empty -feeling of hopeless frustration. She realized with sudden clarity that -she didn’t care _when_ the play opened. It all seemed so pointless. - -She sighed, struggled wearily to her feet, and walked aimlessly down the -aisle and on up to the stage. There was no sense in staying here. She’d -go home and talk to May. She turned the corner to go backstage, then -stopped abruptly. - -There was a light on in Katherine Nelson’s dressing room. The door was -ajar, and from where Peggy stood she could see the star sitting in front -of her make-up table, her head buried in her hands. As Peggy watched, -Katherine Nelson drew her hands from her face and stared at her -reflection in the mirror. Peggy saw that she had been crying. - -It was an embarrassing moment. Peggy didn’t know whether to make her -presence known or remain hidden in the shadows of the darkened stage. As -she hesitated in momentary indecision, the heavy iron stage door leading -to the street banged open, and for a second or two winter roared into -the theater. The door clanged shut and footsteps shuffled up the -passageway. In her dressing room, Katherine Nelson jumped to her feet -and came out into the backstage area. “Who’s there?” she cried sharply. - -“It’s all right, miss,” came a voice. - -The next instant Peggy saw a large, craggy policeman step into the -circle of light. With one hand he brushed away the snow clinging to his -uniform. His other hand clutched a small boy, who seemed to be staring -around in expectant wonder. Peggy recognized the little boy at once. It -was Tommy Stanton. - -“Excuse me, ma’am,” the policeman said, touching his hat. “But where -would I find a Mr. Armour?” - -[Illustration: _With one hand, the policeman clutched a small boy._] - -“Mr. Armour?” Katherine Nelson answered vacantly. “Nobody by that name -here.” - -The policeman bent down and addressed his charge. “You see, son?” he -asked kindly. “You must have made a mistake.” - -“No, sir,” the boy said in a clear, emphatic voice, “I know him.” He -looked at Katherine Nelson curiously. “Are you one of the queens?” he -asked. - -Katherine Nelson frowned. “Queens? What’s this all about?” - -The policeman shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Well, it’s this way, -ma’am. I found this little fellow wandering around Times Square all -alone. He told me he lives all the way out on Long Island, and I can’t -imagine how he got here by himself. Anyway, he did, and I was going to -take him over to the stationhouse, but he won’t tell me his name until -he sees this friend of his.” The policeman fished in his pocket and came -up with a ragged newspaper clipping. “Do you know who this is?” He -showed her the scrap of paper. “The boy seems to know him as Mr. Armour, -even though the name under the picture is Tom Agate.” - -Peggy saw Katherine Nelson start. She looked down at Tommy Stanton and -then back at the photograph. “What made you come here?” she asked the -officer. - -“The piece in the paper here,” he said, pointing it out with a stubby -finger. “It said that Mr. Agate—or Mr. Armour or whatever his name is—is -rehearsing at the Elgin Theater. The boy is full of some kind of story -about a secret place with one-eyed giants. I couldn’t make any sense out -of that, so I decided to give the theater a try since it wasn’t much out -of our way.” - -Katherine Nelson took the newspaper clipping from the policeman and -leaned down beside Tommy. “Will you tell me your name?” she asked. - -“Tommy,” came the prompt reply. - -“Well, Tommy, you see this picture here?” She showed him the picture. -“Where did you get it?” - -“I tore it out of the paper. Can I see him, please?” - -“What do you want to see him about?” - -“I learned the piece he taught me the other day,” Tommy said simply. -Then, for the first time, Peggy realized he was carrying the banjo that -Tom had given him. The little boy held it out proudly. “Would you like -me to play it for you?” - -When Katherine Nelson saw the instrument, she gasped and stepped back a -pace. The policeman threw out a hand to support her. “Are you all right, -ma’am?” he asked anxiously. - -“Yes,” the actress assured him. “I’m all right.” She returned to Tommy. -“Do you like Mr. Armour?” she asked. - -The look on the boy’s face was all the answer she needed. - -“He’s—” Tommy struggled to express himself. “He’s my very best friend in -the world.” Unexpectedly, his face began to cloud. “Couldn’t I please -see him now?” he begged. “Please?” - -“He’s had a hard day, ma’am,” the policeman murmured. “I expect he’s -pretty cold and hungry. If this Mr. Armour isn’t here, I think I’d -better get the boy to the station house and start checking with Missing -Persons.” - -“No, don’t!” Katherine Nelson cried sharply. “I know where he is. I’ll -take the boy to him.” - -“I’m afraid I can’t just leave him with you, ma’am,” the policeman -explained apologetically. “I don’t even know who you are.” - -The actress stepped closer to the policeman. “Don’t you recognize me?” -she said. “I’m Katherine Nelson.” - -The policeman’s eyes widened. “Oh, beggin’ your pardon, ma’am.” - -Katherine Nelson reached out gently for Tommy’s hand. “He’s come to the -right place,” she said, a soft smile stealing over her face. “I’ll take -him to Mr. Armour, and I’ll assume responsibility.” - -The policeman seemed relieved. “Then you know Mr. Armour?” - -“Oh, yes—” Katherine Nelson paused, and then said, in a voice that was -barely audible to Peggy, “You see, Mr.—Armour is—is my husband.” - - - - - XV - “Curtain Going Up!” - - -“... It isn’t a very pretty story,” Katherine Nelson was saying. It was -a little after ten the following morning. Members of the cast, Oscar -Stalkey, Craig Claiborne, Peter Grey, and Pam Mundy were all sitting on -stage. They had reported, expecting a rehearsal, but had been met -instead by the producer who told them that Katherine Nelson had an -announcement to make. Peggy, who had slipped out of the theater the -night before without being seen, was curled up in a chair on the side of -the stage, waiting breathlessly for what she knew was coming. - -“You see,” Katherine Nelson went on with a curious half-smile, “Tom -Agate and I were married.” She waited patiently for the buzz of -excitement to die down. “As a matter of fact,” she added, “we still are. -But we’ve been separated for many years now. And I’m afraid it’s been my -fault.” - -“Now wait a minute,” Tom interrupted, reaching out for her hand. He was -sitting beside her, looking younger and fresher than Peggy had ever seen -him. “It’s no good your taking all the blame.” He turned to his fellow -cast members and began speaking in a low tone. - -“When Katherine and I were married,” he said, “we were very -young—Katherine was only sixteen—very much in love and very happy. The -whole world seemed to be made especially for us. I was doing well as a -star in vaudeville and the future looked good. - -“Eventually,” he went on, “we had a little girl. She went wherever we -did. You’ve all read stories about how, in the days of vaudeville, -people used to play one-night stands across the country. Well, it’s -perfectly true. That’s exactly what we did. And we took our little -girl—Kathy, we called her—everywhere we went.” - -He paused, cleared his throat and went on: - -“I guess Kathy wasn’t too strong, and that kind of life was bad for her. -In any event, she died when she was two years old.” He said this last -quickly, as if he didn’t want to dwell on it. “We were both pretty -upset,” he said, staring fixedly at the row of darkened footlights in -front of him, “and I suppose we both lost our heads.” - -“That’s not quite true.” Katherine Nelson took up the story. “What -really happened was that I blamed Tom for Kathy’s death. Oh, I know it -was foolish of me. But I felt there _had_ to be some reason for her -going like that. I couldn’t bear to think that it just happened. And so -I talked myself into believing that it was all Tom’s fault.” The actress -took a deep breath. “We parted. Tom kept on in vaudeville and I—well, I -went home to my father. But when he died, the theater was the only thing -I knew, so I started to act. It had been ten years. I hadn’t kept in -touch with anyone. No one remembered me. Vaudeville was dying, so I -tried serious acting. You know the rest.” - -“I went ahead doing the same things I’d always done,” Tom explained. “I -kept thinking Katherine would come back to me and I wanted to be in a -position to take care of her. Vaudeville was on the way out, so I tried -the movies and radio. As long as I had the hope that Katherine might -need me, I kept working. - -“Then fifteen years after she left me, she suddenly was a star herself. -I left the theater then—but not for long. The servicemen needed me -during World War II. After the war, nobody needed me—until Peggy said -she did. And I saw that Katherine did too.” - -Katherine Nelson shook her head. “I’d lost track of Tom completely. I -never expected to see him again. Then, when he showed up in this cast, -all the old memories—the old hatred and pain—came back. At first, I -couldn’t face even seeing him. I still blamed him, you see, and I -refused to forget.” - -She straightened her shoulders and looked for a long minute at all of -them. “I’m afraid I was pretty unpleasant. I thought to myself, I must -get rid of that man! And so I tried every way I knew how to force Oscar -Stalkey to fire him. When that didn’t work, I tried to shame Tom into -going away of his own accord.” She turned to him with a questioning -glance. “I still don’t know how you found the courage to stick it out. I -was so cruel.” - -Tom smiled gently. “I knew you were miserable,” he told her. “Wrapped up -in the same kind of misery that I had created for myself. I wanted to -show you a way out. I thought that if I stayed you’d see that all this -unhappiness was of your own making.” - -“And I _did_ see it,” Katherine Nelson said. “I saw it a hundred times -every day, but each time I shut my eyes deliberately. It wasn’t until I -met a little boy who had come to see Tom—a little boy who told me what -Tom meant to him—that I finally realized what I had done to myself—and -all of you. I want to say to every one of you, I’m sorry. And if it’s -not too late, I’d like to start rehearsals today, really working -together.” - -There was a silence. Finally, Oscar Stalkey stood up. “Last night,” he -said, “Tom Agate and Katherine Nelson came to see me. We had quite a -talk. Among other things, we discussed what’s wrong with the way we’re -doing _Innocent Laughter_. The main point we agreed upon is this. We’ve -been putting too much emphasis on the part of the mother. Actually, the -center of action lies with the older woman, the grandmother.” He paused -and clasped his hands behind his back. “I asked Katherine if she would -play that part and her answer was yes. That means we’ll have to get a -replacement for the mother, but that shouldn’t be too difficult. - -“Meanwhile, there’s another thing. Marcy Hubbard has left the cast.” He -grinned at them cheerfully. “All in all, I think you’ll admit it was -quite a night. She asked to be relieved of her contract because she said -she had a very attractive offer from Hollywood. I was more than happy to -do what she asked because filling in for Marcy was no trouble at all.” -He turned to Peggy with a smile. “Peggy,” he announced, “you’ll be -playing the part of the young daughter in _Innocent Laughter_.” - - -There were telegrams from her family, from May and Amy and Randy. There -were flowers from Oscar Stalkey and Peter, and a large bottle of perfume -from Craig Claiborne. And then, there was the audience. Standing in the -wings amid the bustling confusion of stagehands and electricians, Peggy -could hear them file into the theater. Muffled sounds of conversation -and an occasional laugh filtered through the heavy curtain. - -“Five minutes,” came Mr. Fox’s insistent voice. “Curtain in five -minutes.” He hurried away on some mysterious errand. - -Peggy leaned her head against the backstage wall. She was tired but -exhilarated. The past ten days had been the most wonderful of her life. -Even the confusion and the discomfort of the trip to Baltimore had been -fun. This was the theater as she had always dreamed it, and she was -about to step on stage in the most important role of her life. - -“Places everyone, please. Clear the stage.” Mr. Fox’s voice was quiet, -but it carried a ring of authority. “Places for the first act.” He -paused briefly beside Peggy. “You okay?” he asked. “Everything all -right?” Peggy nodded. “Good.” Mr. Fox grunted. “I hope you break a leg,” -he said and disappeared. - -Peggy smiled to herself. She hadn’t heard that for quite a while. In the -theater it was considered a bad omen to wish an actor good luck, and so, -instead, you told him you hoped something awful would happen to him. Out -in front there was an excited buzz as the house lights flickered their -warning. - -Then, suddenly, out of the darkness beside her, a voice spoke softly. -“Hello, Peggy.” It was Katherine Nelson. - -Peggy turned and smiled. “Hello, Miss Nelson.” She saw Tom standing -beside his wife. - -“We don’t have much time,” the actress said to Peggy. “But before we go -on, I want to tell you how much we appreciate everything you did. Tom -and I know that you were the one who really brought us back together.” - -“I’m sure you didn’t know what you were doing,” Tom said. “But that’s -the way it turned out.” - -“I’m glad,” Peggy said simply. “I’m glad for you both.” - -“There’s another thing I have to thank you for,” Katherine Nelson said. -“Somehow tonight—with Tom—I feel that I’m about to start my career all -over again.” She paused and shook her head. “No, that’s not quite it. -It’s that I’m about to begin a new phase—a new life for myself....” - -“And for me,” Tom said softly. - -Before Peggy could answer, Mr. Fox was back. “Curtain going up,” he -whispered urgently. “Quiet, _please_!” - -Katherine Nelson detached herself from the shadows, straightened her -skirt, and stepped up for her entrance. She turned and looked at Peggy -and Tom, gave them a quick wink, and pushed open the door. The applause -in the theater thundered out when the audience recognized her. - -Peggy hardly remembered the first act. Her lines came automatically and -she was too excited to know whether it was going well or badly. By the -second act, that feeling had passed and she was beginning to wonder. Her -big scene—the one with Tom—was coming up, and as she took her position -behind the familiar door, she had the same sensation of nervous fear she -had had the day she first tried out for Craig Claiborne. - -The lights dimmed and Peggy knew it was time. With a trembling hand she -pushed open the door and looked out over the semi-darkened stage. A lone -figure was slumped in the chair by the fireplace. Peggy tip-toed into -the room, went over to the window, looked out and sighed. - -“‘Why did you come in so quietly?’” Tom said. “‘You’re as furtive as a -lady burglar tonight. What’s wrong?’” - -“‘Oh!’” Peggy gasped. “‘I didn’t know anybody was here.’” - -“‘I’ll go if you like,’” came Tom’s reply. - -Peggy moved over to him. “‘Oh, no! Please don’t! There’s—there’s -something I want to talk to you about....’” - -Suddenly all the nervousness, the worry, vanished. It was all right. -Peggy could feel it and, even more important, she knew the audience -could feel it too. - -Completely poised, she sat down on the little footstool beside Tom and -stared into his face. He was smiling at her. It was a good smile—strong, -yet gentle. - -Peggy met his gaze and smiled back. This was the moment she had always -known would come. She was glad it had come with Tom Agate. - - [Illustration: Endpapers] - - - [Illustration: Back cover] - - - - - PEGGY ON THE ROAD - - -Professional temperament and backstage jealousy confront young Peggy -Lane when she lands a bit part in the road company of the hit comedy, -_Innocent Laughter_. Elated over winning the role, the aspiring actress -quickly learns that a good play does not necessarily spell success. It -takes good people too! - -She aids in the search for a character actor to play the male lead, -feeling triumphant when she locates Tom Agate, beloved but retired -vaudeville trouper, who reluctantly consents to audition. But Katherine -Nelson, the _prima donna_ who is to star in the show, throws a temper -tantrum, claiming it beneath her dignity to play with a “has-been” -comedian, and demanding both Peggy and Tom Agate be thrown out of the -show! - -The young girl, who all her life has dreamed of her professional debut, -is demoralized as she realizes that theatrical rivalry can stifle the -joy of creativity. - -But she believes in Tom Agate, and her faith is vindicated when she -unravels a theatrical mystery which explains the conduct of the arrogant -star! - - - _Peggy Lane Theater Stories_ - - Peggy Finds the Theater - Peggy Plays Off-Broadway - Peggy Goes Straw Hat - Peggy on the Road - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes - - ---Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public - domain in the country of publication. - ---In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the - HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.) - ---Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and - dialect unchanged. - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Peggy on the Road, by Virginia Hughes - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEGGY ON THE ROAD *** - -***** This file should be named 55830-0.txt or 55830-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/8/3/55830/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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} - blockquote { max-width:23em; } - div.verse { max-width:25em; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } - div.bq { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:23em; } - - /* book advertisements */ - div.bcat dl dd { margin-left:4em; max-width:21em; } - div.bcat dl dt { text-indent:-2em; margin-left:2em; } - p.bkad {font-size:125%; font-weight:bold; margin-top:2em; max-width:20em; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; } - p.bkpr {font-size:90%; } - p.bkrv { } - dl.blist dt { margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; } - dl.blist, dl.biblio { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:25em; } - - dl.int { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:25em; } - dl.int dt {margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; } - dl.int dd {margin-left:2em; } -</style> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Peggy on the Road, by Virginia Hughes - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Peggy on the Road - Peggy Lane Theater Stories, #4 - -Author: Virginia Hughes - -Release Date: October 27, 2017 [EBook #55830] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEGGY ON THE ROAD *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - -<div class="img"> -<img class="cover" id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Peggy On the Road" width="500" height="760" /> -</div> -<div class="img" id="pic1"> -<img src="images/p01.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="717" /> -<p class="caption"><i>Peggy read with mounting conviction and assurance.</i></p> -</div> -<div class="box"> -<p class="center">PEGGY LANE THEATER STORIES</p> -<h1><i>Peggy on the Road</i></h1> -<p class="center">By VIRGINIA HUGHES</p> -<p class="center"><span class="small">Illustrated by <span class="sc">Sergio Leone</span></span></p> -<p class="tbcenter"><span class="small">GROSSET & DUNLAP</span> <span class="hst"><i>Publishers</i></span> -<br /><span class="smaller">NEW YORK</span></p> -</div> -<p class="center smaller">© GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC., 1963 -<br />ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p> -<p class="center smaller">MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> -<dl class="toc"> -<dt><span class="cn">1 </span><a href="#c1"><span class="sc">The Break of a Lifetime</span></a> 1</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">2 </span><a href="#c2"><span class="sc">Katherine Nelson</span></a> 16</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">3 </span><a href="#c3"><span class="sc">The Inner Sanctum</span></a> 30</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">4 </span><a href="#c4">“<span class="sc">Innocent Laughter</span>”</a> 41</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">5 </span><a href="#c5"><span class="sc">Tryouts</span></a> 52</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">6 </span><a href="#c6">“<span class="sc">Why Don’t You Quit?</span>”</a> 66</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">7 </span><a href="#c7"><span class="sc">Peggy Turns Detective</span></a> 76</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">8 </span><a href="#c8"><span class="sc">The Search</span></a> 86</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">9 </span><a href="#c9"><span class="sc">The One-Eyed Giant</span></a> 103</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">10 </span><a href="#c10"><span class="sc">Tom Agate</span></a> 114</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">11 </span><a href="#c11"><span class="sc">A Star Comes Back</span></a> 125</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">12 </span><a href="#c12"><span class="sc">Tom’s Tryout</span></a> 139</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">13 </span><a href="#c13"><span class="sc">The Ordeal</span></a> 148</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">14 </span><a href="#c14"><span class="sc">The Secret</span></a> 157</dt> -<dt><span class="cn">15 </span><a href="#c15">“<span class="sc">Curtain Going Up!</span>”</a> 170</dt> -</dl> -<div class="pb" id="Page_1">1</div> -<p class="center">PEGGY ON THE ROAD</p> -<h2 id="c1"><span class="h2line1">I</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2"><i>The Break of a Lifetime</i></span></h2> -<p>With a grateful sigh Peggy Lane lowered her aching -feet into the delicious warmth of a dishpan filled -with hot water, bath crystals, and Epsom salts. In -other rooms exactly like hers throughout the big -brownstone house near New York’s Gramercy Park, -half a dozen hopeful, equally tired, but determined -young girls about Peggy’s age were doing the same -thing.</p> -<p>At the Gramercy Arms, a rooming house for young -actresses in the middle of Manhattan, this was a daily -ritual known lightheartedly as the “cocktail hour.”</p> -<p>Peggy sighed a second time, wiggled her toes in -the steamy water, and flopped back on the studio -couch.</p> -<p>“What a life,” she murmured darkly.</p> -<p>As if in answer to her complaint, the lights of New -York began coming on. One by one, they twinkled -through her window, throwing a spangle of diamonds -across her dressing-table mirror.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_2">2</div> -<p>New York had been home for a year now, but -the big city never failed to thrill her—especially at -dusk. Without taking her feet from the water, Peggy -turned to one side and gazed at a few faint tinges of -red in the west where the sunset was fighting a losing -battle with the fabulous illumination of the New York -skyline.</p> -<p>Propping a meditative chin in her hand, Peggy -watched the magic spectacle of Manhattan change -gradually from a bustling city of towering gray buildings -and concrete canyons into the jeweled finery of -a million lights. It was like the shimmering moment -in the fairy tale when the drab little kitchen maid -turns into a beautiful princess. Or at least that was -the way Peggy always thought of it.</p> -<p>Once, when she was still new in New York, she had -made the mistake of trying to explain all this to a very -serious young man who was a second-year student at -a nearby college. The young man had stared at her -uncomfortably for a moment, then changed the subject. -But Peggy wasn’t disturbed. She was fond of her -own version, even though she knew it was hopelessly -romantic.</p> -<p>Well, why not? Half-lying on the bed with her feet -stuck into what was now a lukewarm basin of water, -she was convinced that she was right and he was -wrong. She thought of the young man’s earnest face -and broke into a grin. Despite herself she laughed -out loud.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_3">3</div> -<p>The cheerful sound filled the darkening room. -Paddling her feet happily in the water, she threw her -head back against the pillow and sighed a third time.</p> -<p>“What a life!” She breathed ecstatically. Suddenly -full of vitality again, she sat up and leveled a pair of -clear hazel eyes over the city, now throbbing with the -muted sounds of early evening traffic. “New York,” -she announced in a grave voice to the open window -and empty room, “you don’t care about me right now. -You’ve never even heard of me. But some day you -will. You’ll see!”</p> -<p>It was quite a dramatic speech for her to make, but -then Peggy Lane was very young and very determined -to become a great actress.</p> -<p>Outside her window, the city took the news of -Peggy’s intended conquest calmly. Somewhere a lone -taxicab gave a derisive toot on its horn as it squealed -to a stop to pick up a fare. Peggy mentally stuck -out her tongue at the driver and settled back to make -plans for tomorrow. But before she could get really -comfortable, an enthusiastic spatter of applause came -from the doorway.</p> -<p>“I declare, honey,” drawled a familiar voice, “that’s -the prettiest speech I ever did hear. You always talk -to yourself in the dark like that?”</p> -<p>Light flooded the room, and Peggy saw her friend, -Amy Shelby Preston, framed in the door. Amy, a -striking ash blonde and a product of Pine Hollow, -North Carolina, had been pulled to New York by the -same magnet that had drawn Peggy. The two girls -had met on their first day in the city, liked each other -on sight, and decided to room together this year.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_4">4</div> -<p>Peggy struggled to a sitting position and blushed -furiously. “I—I was just going over some lines for a -play,” she explained lamely.</p> -<p>Amy flashed her a knowing smile as she went over -to a tiny sink hidden from the rest of the room by a -Japanese screen. “What’s the name of the play?” she -asked. “<i>Stage-Struck?</i>”</p> -<p>Peggy bunched up a throw pillow, but Amy raised -her hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot,” she pleaded. -“You heave that thing at me and I’ll never get up, I’m -that tired.”</p> -<p>Peggy hitched herself to the edge of the studio -couch and began to towel her legs vigorously. “You -relax,” she ordered. “I’ll fix everything.”</p> -<p>Amy collapsed wearily on the bed, content to watch -Peggy wait on her. “Well?” Peggy demanded eagerly. -Amy had just finished a job filming a television commercial -for the Bob Jordan show. “Did you get to -meet Bob Jordan?”</p> -<p>Amy threw back her head and laughed. “Bob Jordan’s -already done the show in Hollywood. It’s just -the commercial they’re doing in New York.”</p> -<p>“But doesn’t he want to see it?” Peggy asked as she -poured bath crystals into Amy’s dishpan.</p> -<p>Amy shook her head. “Not this one. Even if he -wanted to, he’d never be able to find the studio.” -Studio space in New York was at a premium, and as -a result, many television commercials were filmed in -the most unlikely places.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_5">5</div> -<p>Peggy laughed. “Where’d they do it?”</p> -<p>“You won’t believe this,” Amy said wonderingly, -“but I don’t know. I couldn’t find it again for worlds. -All I know is that I had to take a subway for hours -and then a bus till I got to the end of the line. Finally -I had to wait for a Transcontinental Broadcasting -Company car to pick me up and take me to something -that looked like a converted garage way out at -the end of Brooklyn.”</p> -<p>“I know the place,” Peggy interrupted. “That’s the -Greenside Studio. I did an audition there once. It’s -a converted stable.”</p> -<p>“It’s still a stable as far as I’m concerned,” Amy -replied. She hugged her arms closer to her body. -“Brrr! Was it ever cold!”</p> -<p>“Get into something warm,” Peggy urged. She -looked at Amy critically. “Why did you wear that thin -dress? You know what those television studios are -like.”</p> -<p>“It’s the best dress I own,” Amy said as she rummaged -through her closet. “I wanted to make an impression.”</p> -<p>Peggy shook her head and tossed over a bulky -woolen bathrobe. “Here, take this,” she commanded. -“It belongs to my cousin David, but I borrowed it. -And hurry up! I want to hear what happened.”</p> -<p>“Well, that’s what I’m trying to tell you, honey,” -Amy said as she struggled out of her dress. “But you -just won’t give me a chance.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_6">6</div> -<p>Peggy sat down and tucked her legs under her. -“All right, go on,” she said patiently. “I’m listening.”</p> -<p>“Well, first of all,” Amy said, poking a tentative foot -into the dishpan on the floor, “it was only a thirty-second -commercial. My, that feels good. I declare, -I’m ten degrees warmer already.” She looked around -vaguely. “Now where was I....”</p> -<p>“You were saying it was only a thirty-second spot.”</p> -<p>“That’s right. With General Refrigerator sponsoring -the Bob Jordan show, I counted on having a couple -of lines to say. Something like, ‘Oh, Edna! I’ve got the -most exciting news! General Refrigerators now come -in a whole sunburst of dreamy colors from pastel pink -to leafy green!’” Amy dropped the rapturous look on -her face and stared solemnly over at Peggy. “You -know the kind of thing they make you say.”</p> -<p>Peggy nodded wordlessly.</p> -<p>“Anyway,” Amy went on, “soon as I got there, they -sent me over to make-up. I got in the chair, closed my -eyes, and waited for them to put cold cream over my -face.”</p> -<p>“Never mind that,” Peggy said, “get on with the -rest of it!”</p> -<p>“But that’s the important part!” Amy protested. -“That’s when I knew it was the beginning of the end!”</p> -<p>“Goodness,” Peggy said. “It sounds serious. What -happened when you had your eyes closed?”</p> -<p>“I heard somebody tell me to stick out my arm.”</p> -<p>“What!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_7">7</div> -<p>“It’s the living truth, honey. Honestly, I thought -they were going to give me a vaccination or something. -But then the make-up girl rubbed cream on -my hand and took the polish off my fingernails. When -she was through, I asked if she wasn’t going to do -anything else, and she said no. She said I was ready -to go on camera.”</p> -<p>“But only your arm was made up?”</p> -<p>Amy nodded emphatically. “Up to my elbow.”</p> -<p>“Then what was your part in the commercial?”</p> -<p>“A <i>hand</i>!” Amy wailed. She looked as though she -were about to burst into tears. “I played the part of -a <i>hand</i> on the Bob Jordan commercial. All they -wanted me to do was open the refrigerator door!” -Amy thumped the couch in frustration. “Here I -thought they wanted an actress who could read lines -and all, and all they wanted was a hand! Why, anybody -with five fingers could have done it!” She paused -and looked sheepishly at Peggy. “Oh, Peggy, I’m so -ashamed!”</p> -<p>Peggy jumped up and went over to her roommate. -“Whatever for?” she asked. “It was just a job.”</p> -<p>Amy shook her head and blinked. “You don’t understand—Oh, -Peggy!”</p> -<p>“Come on, now,” Peggy soothed. “Tell me the -whole story.”</p> -<p>Amy sat perfectly still for a moment, trying to fight -back the tears. Suddenly both tears and story came -out in a rush. “When I first heard about getting a -part in the commercial”—Amy gulped—“I got all excited. -I wrote home and told Mama to watch me on -the Bob Jordan show.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_8">8</div> -<p>Suddenly Peggy understood. She knew Pine Hollow, -North Carolina, was a tiny place. Amy’s mother -was almost sure to tell everyone about her daughter’s -big television debut. Next week at air time, half the -population would be glued in front of their sets, waiting -to see Amy’s face.</p> -<p>“Everyone will be looking for me,” Amy went on -mournfully. “And all they’re going to see is my—my -hand! What am I going to tell them?”</p> -<p>“The truth,” Peggy said simply.</p> -<p>Amy looked up in despair. “Oh, I couldn’t!” she -breathed. “Mama would be the laughingstock of Pine -Hollow.” Another thought seemed to strike her. “Oh, -my goodness!” she wailed.</p> -<p>“What’s the matter now?”</p> -<p>“Daddy!” Amy cried, jumping to her feet. “What’s -<i>he</i> going to say? You know Daddy wasn’t too keen -on my coming to New York in the first place.”</p> -<p>Peggy smiled, remembering the endless discussions -that had gone on in her own family. “Fathers are -funny that way,” she observed.</p> -<p>Amy threw her a trapped look. “You don’t have -any idea! He’s always thought my wanting to be an -actress was silly. What’s he going to say now?”</p> -<p>An idea began working in Peggy’s mind. Grinning -mischievously, she scrambled to her feet and held out -her hands. “Don’t tell me,” she begged. “Let me -guess.” Clasping her hands firmly behind her back, -Peggy started to pace back and forth. Her usually -cheerful face was lined with a severe scowl.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_9">9</div> -<p>Amy burst into laughter at the sight and collapsed -back on top of her bed. “Oh, Peggy! Daddy doesn’t -look like that at all. He’s really much nicer.”</p> -<p>Peggy raised a hand threateningly. “Quiet!” she -thundered in her best imitation of a man’s voice.</p> -<p>Amy subsided obediently. “Yes, sir,” she said -meekly.</p> -<p>Peggy cleared her throat and rumbled ahead. “This -is disgraceful,” she intoned. “Here my daughter has -spent a year in New York. She’s gone to dramatic -school and she’s been in summer stock. What does -she have to show for it, eh? I ask you.” Peggy gave -a fierce tug on an imaginary mustache. “One year -of solid work and the best she can do is to play the -part of a hand on a television commercial!” Peggy -stomped down to the far end of the room. “A hand!” -She snorted. “If it’s taken her a year to get her -hand on a television show, how long d’you suppose -it’ll take to get the rest of her on? Eh? I ask you!”</p> -<p>Peggy wanted to continue, but Amy was laughing -too hard. “You’re almost right.” Amy gasped between -giggles. “Only he’d never come right out and say it -like that.”</p> -<p>“Then why don’t you do it yourself?” Peggy cried -gaily.</p> -<p>“Me?” Amy seemed astonished by the idea.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_10">10</div> -<p>“Sure,” Peggy said eagerly. “Tell them exactly what -happened, but treat the whole thing as a joke. Get -them on your side.” Peggy sat down beside Amy and -spoke seriously. “I really mean it, Amy,” she said. “If -you laugh about it, they will too. And besides,” she -added, “they’ll admire you for your determination.”</p> -<p>Amy looked at her hopefully. “You think so?”</p> -<p>“Of course,” Peggy assured her.</p> -<p>Amy began giggling again.</p> -<p>“Now what?”</p> -<p>“I just thought of something Daddy once said to -me. He said the important thing was to get my foot -in the door. Now I can tell him that maybe I haven’t -got my foot in yet, but at least my hand’s there.”</p> -<p>The two girls laughed together. “That’s the spirit!” -Peggy chuckled. “Don’t give up the ship! That’ll be -our motto!”</p> -<p>“Rah! Rah! Rah!” Amy cheered, applauding excitedly.</p> -<p>“Sssh!” Peggy cautioned. “We’re making too much -noise.”</p> -<p>“You sure are,” came a resonant voice from the -door. “When does the plane leave for Hollywood?”</p> -<p>“Hollywood?” Amy asked blankly, whirling around -to stare at the commanding figure before her.</p> -<p>May Berriman closed the door and advanced into -the room. Years ago, May had been a successful character -actress on Broadway, but when she had left the -stage she had taken over the management of the -Gramercy Arms. The girls who stayed at the Gramercy -Arms were, for the most part, struggling young -actresses like Peggy and Amy. With her wide knowledge -of the theater and her vast common sense, May -was more than just a landlady to “her girls.” She was -almost a second mother to them, presiding over their -hopes and fears, their triumphs and failures, their -good times and their squabbles with an even-handed -justice that combined equal doses of a sharp tongue -and a soft heart.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_11">11</div> -<p>May picked her way through the clutter of the girls’ -room and sat down on Peggy’s bed. Peggy never tired -of watching May’s movements. They were so unconsciously -graceful, so sure and poised. They were, -Peggy knew, the result of years of training and hard, -disciplined work.</p> -<p>“Of course,” May was saying to Amy, “from the -hall you two sounded like the cheering section at a -football game. I couldn’t imagine what had happened. -I was sure it was a Hollywood screen test at -the very least.”</p> -<p>“Not yet.” Peggy smiled. “That’s a long way off.”</p> -<p>Amy looked out the window dreamily. “You never -can tell,” she said hopefully. “Why, the phone could -ring any minute!” She turned to May for support. -“Isn’t that true?” she demanded. “A big producer can -see you one day and the next day you’re out in Hollywood. -It happens all the time.”</p> -<p>“Only in your imagination, dear,” May said dryly. -“I’d advise you not to hold your breath until that -phone call comes. Oh, by the way,” she added, turning -to Peggy, “somebody tried to get you about an -hour ago.”</p> -<p>Peggy straightened up. “Was there a message?” she -asked.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_12">12</div> -<p>May shook her head. “No message, but she left a -name.”</p> -<p>“Oh. A she?”</p> -<p>An amused smile softened May’s face. “I hope it’s -not too much of a shock. It was a girl named Pam -Mundy. She said she knew you from summer stock.”</p> -<p>“Pam!” Peggy cried excitedly. “I had no idea she -was in New York. What fun! Is she going to call -back?”</p> -<p>“She said she’d get in touch with you this evening. -Is she an actress?”</p> -<p>“Not really,” Peggy said. “She’s more interested in -the production end. She saw some of our shows up at -Lake Kenabeek last summer, and often discussed the -problems with Richard Wallace, our producer.”</p> -<p>“A lady producer!” Amy exclaimed in surprise. “I -thought all producers were men.”</p> -<p>“Most of them are,” May said. “But there’s no law -against a girl trying it.”</p> -<p>“Maybe she’s doing a show,” Amy cried suddenly, -“and she’s got a part in it for you.”</p> -<p>Before Peggy could answer, the buzzer over their -door let out a squawk. “Telephone!” Amy breathed, -hurling herself at the door. “Who’s it for?” she yelled -down the hall. Each floor of the Gramercy Arms was -serviced by a single telephone shared by all the girls -on the floor.</p> -<p>“For Peggy!” came the answer. “It’s a man!”</p> -<p>“Well, at least we know it isn’t Pam Mundy,” -Peggy said, as she drew on her bathrobe.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_13">13</div> -<p>“It’s probably Randy,” Amy said.</p> -<p>Peggy nodded and disappeared into the corridor. -Randy was Randolph Clark Brewster. Peggy had met -him when she first came to New York and had been -seeing him ever since. In the early days he had more -or less taken her under his wing and had guided her -first faltering steps in that actor’s nightmare known -as “the rounds.”</p> -<p>Doing the rounds meant mapping out a systematic -campaign of personally seeing every producer, actor’s -agent, and casting director in town. It was tedious, -foot-wearying work, but it was necessary. Peggy -learned soon enough that you couldn’t simply send -a picture and a note, and then sit back, and expect the -calls to come in. You had to keep knocking on doors, -reminding people of your existence, hoping that -sooner or later somebody would remember you and -say, “Why don’t we try that girl who was in here this -morning? She might be right for the part.”</p> -<p>She still remembered the morning she had made -her first rounds with Randy. They had agreed to meet -outside the Gramercy Arms at eight-thirty. Right on -the dot, she saw Randy’s tall, lanky figure swing along -the sidewalk, move toward her, and stop in undisguised -dismay.</p> -<p>In her eagerness to make a good impression, Peggy -had put on a dress that was far too sophisticated for -her. She had plastered make-up all over her face, -complete with mascara, and covered her eyelids with -a heavy film of dark green, which she fancied went -well with her coloring and dark chestnut hair.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_14">14</div> -<p>Randy took one look and shook his head. “No, -Peggy. That won’t do at all,” he had said gently.</p> -<p>“Why not?” Peggy had replied. “You said the important -thing was for them to notice me.”</p> -<p>Randy tried to cover up a grin by rubbing a hand -over his jaw. “They’ll notice you all right,” he said. -“In fact, they’ll never forget you.” He took her hand -and led her up the steep steps of the brownstone -house. “Let’s go inside and sit down awhile,” he suggested.</p> -<p>Peggy followed him obediently to the tiny sitting -room off the entrance hall. She listened carefully -as Randy told her how important it was to let her -fresh young beauty speak for itself. He explained -that she was not yet ready to play sophisticated, older -women, and that it was useless to try. He got her to -go upstairs, rub off the make-up, and change into a -simpler dress. At first Peggy had been furious, but -later she learned that he was right.</p> -<p>Now Peggy hurried eagerly down the corridor. It -would be good to talk to Randy again. She picked -up the telephone. “Hello.”</p> -<p>A man’s voice came from the other end. It wasn’t -Randy. “Hello. Is this Miss Peggy Lane?”</p> -<p>“Speaking.”</p> -<p>“My name is Peter Grey. I’m with the Oscar Stalkey -office. Miss Pam Mundy suggested I give you a ring.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_15">15</div> -<p>Peggy caught her breath. Oscar Stalkey was one -of the biggest producers in New York. His new play, -<i>Innocent Laughter</i>, had opened to rave reviews a -few weeks earlier. Already it was impossible to get -tickets. Everyone in New York wanted to see it.</p> -<p>“Yes?” Peggy answered in a shaking voice.</p> -<p>“Well, it’s quite simple, really.” The voice went on -in a matter-of-fact tone. “We’re getting ready to cast -the road companies of <i>Innocent Laughter</i>, and Miss -Mundy suggested you for a general understudy. -There’d also be a small speaking part. It’s a national -tour and you’d be expected to sign for a minimum of -six months. Will you be available?”</p> -<p>For a moment Peggy couldn’t speak. She just sat -and stared helplessly at the telephone two inches -from her nose.</p> -<p>“Hello, hello?” came the voice from the other end. -“Are you still there?”</p> -<p>“Yes,” Peggy said in a voice she didn’t recognize.</p> -<p>“We’re trying out a number of people tomorrow. -Can you be at the Stalkey office at ten?”</p> -<p>“At ten,” Peggy repeated mechanically.</p> -<p>“Yes. Then we can expect you?”</p> -<p>“Oh, yes,” Peggy said. “I’ll—I’ll be there.”</p> -<p>“Thanks. Good-by.”</p> -<p>The phone went dead in her hand. It took Peggy -several seconds to lift the receiver back into its cradle.</p> -<p>“<i>Innocent Laughter!</i>” she murmured to herself. -“Me, in <i>Innocent Laughter</i>!” Suddenly she couldn’t -stand it another minute. She raced back to her room -at the far end of the hall, laughing as she ran. If she -could land the part, it was the break of a lifetime!</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_16">16</div> -<h2 id="c2"><span class="h2line1">II</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">Katherine Nelson</span></h2> -<p>It took a touch of May’s common sense to bring -Peggy back to reality. “You don’t have the part yet,” -she cautioned. “So don’t count on it.”</p> -<p>“Oh, but, May,” Amy protested, “why else would -they call her? I’m sure Peggy’s got it.”</p> -<p>“Did he come right out and make you an offer?” -May asked.</p> -<p>“No,” Peggy admitted. “He said they were interviewing -a number of girls tomorrow. That’s all.”</p> -<p>“Well, then,” May said. “You see?”</p> -<p>“I don’t care,” Amy declared stoutly. “This it still -the biggest break either one of us has had in a year.”</p> -<p>“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” May said. “I’m just trying -to get Peggy to realize what she’s up against. Nobody’s -going to hand her that part on a silver platter. -She’s got to go in there tomorrow and earn it.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_17">17</div> -<p>Peggy moved nervously to the window and pulled -back the curtain. “If only I knew a little more about -the play,” she murmured. “I don’t even know what -kind of a part I’m supposed to try out for.” She walked -over to her bed and sat down despairingly. “I should -have asked when I had the chance, but I guess I was -too excited. I didn’t even think!”</p> -<p>“Now, now,” May said soothingly. “Don’t work -yourself up into a fit. How much do you know about -<i>Innocent Laughter</i>?”</p> -<p>“Nothing,” Peggy said dispiritedly. “Absolutely -nothing except that it’s the biggest hit of the season.”</p> -<p>“What time is it?” Amy cried suddenly. “Maybe -we could see it tonight!”</p> -<p>“Not a chance,” May said emphatically. “You -wouldn’t be able to get tickets.”</p> -<p>“Standing room?” Amy suggested hopefully.</p> -<p>May looked at her watch and shook her head. “Too -late.”</p> -<p>“Oh dear!” Peggy started to get up, but May -pushed her firmly back down on the studio couch.</p> -<p>“You sit down, young lady,” she ordered. “There’s -no point in worrying about something you can’t help. -Besides, I think I can give you some idea of the play.”</p> -<p>“You can?” Peggy cried eagerly. “Oh, May, you’re -an angel!”</p> -<p>“Flattery will get you nowhere,” May said. “Just sit -back and listen.” Peggy and Amy settled down obediently -and waited.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_18">18</div> -<p>“First of all,” May began, “<i>Innocent Laughter</i> has -only four parts for women.” She ticked them off one -by one. “There’s the lead, a brilliantly successful career -woman living in New York, who decides one day -to try to recapture her youth. Then there’s a wonderful -part—the woman’s mother, a shrewd old gal who’s -made a fortune in real estate out West, and who -hasn’t seen her daughter in years. The third big part -is the career woman’s daughter. She’s a young girl -who’s been sent to finishing school in Europe, and -hasn’t seen <i>her</i> mother in years, except for brief vacations.” -May looked around inquiringly. “All clear so -far?”</p> -<p>“You mean there are three generations—the grandmother, -the mother, and the daughter?” Amy asked.</p> -<p>May nodded. “You’ve got the picture.”</p> -<p>“What happened to all the men?” Peggy asked.</p> -<p>“Ah, now we’re getting to it,” May said. “The -grandfather—that’s the old gal’s husband—disappeared -years ago. He left home because he said he -couldn’t stand his wife’s domineering ways. The -mother’s husband is dead, and the daughter, of -course, doesn’t have any husband yet.”</p> -<p>“How about the story?” Amy demanded. “What’s -that all about?”</p> -<p>“The situation is simple,” May explained. “The -three generations meet in New York. The grandmother -wants a last fling. She’s after good times and -plenty of them. The mother, as I’ve said, is trying to -find romance again.”</p> -<p>“And the young daughter?” Amy asked.</p> -<p>May shrugged. “The daughter isn’t sure what she -wants. She’s in a sort of experimental mood about -life. Very young, very sweet, and full of vitality.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_19">19</div> -<p>“What happens after they all get together?” Amy -asked.</p> -<p>“Oh, they make a mess of everything,” May said. -“Things go from bad to worse until suddenly, out of -the blue, who should turn up but the grandfather!”</p> -<p>“The one who disappeared years ago!” Amy said.</p> -<p>“Right,” said May.</p> -<p>“What’s he been doing all those years?”</p> -<p>“Oh, this and that,” May replied airily. “He’s been -knocking around the world a good deal and making -a lot of money. Anyway, he walks in on the three -women and takes over. He straightens out the -mother’s life, saves the young daughter from marrying -a dull man, and makes his wife fall in love with -him all over again.”</p> -<p>“It sounds like a great part,” Peggy remarked.</p> -<p>“Doesn’t it?” May agreed. “Anyway, that’s about -all there is to it. Not a second <i>Hamlet</i>, I’ll admit, but -a good, solid comedy.”</p> -<p>“Wait a minute,” Amy interrupted. “You’ve only -mentioned three women. Who’s the fourth?”</p> -<p>“A tiny part,” May said. “A schoolgirl friend of the -young daughter. She appears in one scene in the first -act.”</p> -<p>“And that’s Peggy?” Amy asked.</p> -<p>May nodded. “Probably. That and understudying -the daughter.”</p> -<p>Amy sighed. “Oh my,” she said. “Wouldn’t you just -love to play the daughter?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_20">20</div> -<p>“Stop dreaming,” May counseled. “Oscar Stalkey -couldn’t afford to take a chance with an unknown -in a part like that.” May turned and walked over to -Peggy. “Now look, Peggy,” she said in a quiet, reassuring -voice, “when you walk into that office tomorrow, -don’t try to pretend you’re an experienced -actress. Oscar Stalkey’s been around a long time and -he’d be able to see right through your pose.”</p> -<p>The older woman sat down and folded her hand -over Peggy’s. “Do you remember that time when -Randy told you to be yourself and not try to act as -if you were ten years older?”</p> -<p>Peggy smiled and nodded.</p> -<p>“It was the best advice you could get,” May went -on. “If you follow it tomorrow, the rest will take care -of itself. You’re a good actress, Peggy. You have a lot -of promise. He’ll be able to see that.” May got up -slowly and drifted over to the window. “I used to -know Oscar Stalkey pretty well,” she said. “He’s a -strange mixture of a hard-boiled Broadway producer -and a sentimental little boy. He’s been in show business -over thirty years, and he still thinks the theater -is the most wonderful thing in the world.”</p> -<p>“So do I!” Peggy breathed.</p> -<p>May turned and smiled. “Good. Then you two -ought to get along beautifully. Now,” she said, moving -to the door in a brisk, businesslike manner, “have -you had dinner yet?”</p> -<p>“Oh, no, May!” Peggy pleaded. “I’m too excited. -I couldn’t eat a bite.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_21">21</div> -<p>May’s smile vanished. She pointed to the door commandingly. -“Out you go,” she said. “We can’t have -you meeting Oscar Stalkey looking pale and haggard. -The program for the rest of the evening includes -a good dinner, a long hot bath, and early to -bed.” May paused and advanced a step toward Peggy. -“And try not to worry too much.”</p> -<p>Peggy smiled and nodded. “All right,” she said. -“I’ll try.”</p> -<p>“Good. When you push open the door of Oscar -Stalkey’s office tomorrow, I want you to look like a -million dollars—rested and confident you’re going -to get the part.”</p> -<p class="tb">At precisely ten o’clock the following morning, -Peggy Lane stood before the plain frosted-glass door -of Oscar Stalkey’s office, feeling rested, alert—but -not at all sure of herself. In fact, what she felt was -dread. It was exactly like the time when she was -seven years old, and had to appear in the school -Christmas pageant as one of the angels who led the -shepherds to the manger. She still remembered her -two lines: “This is the place. See how the roof is -bathed by the light of yonder star.” Chattering with -the cold, her throat all lumpy with fear, and lonelier -than she had ever been in her life, she had waited in -the wings for the words that would bring her out on -the stage. She had been sure she would forget everything. -Now she remembered what it had been like -when at last she had stepped into the brilliant -warmth of the stage, sensing the audience out front -and the magic of the set behind her. She had read -her lines beautifully, and only regretted that she -didn’t have more of them. At that moment, Peggy -had decided to become an actress. That was a long -time ago. Smiling at the memory, she took a final -breath and pushed against the door.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_22">22</div> -<p>She stopped on the threshold in numbed surprise.</p> -<p>Dozens of eyes swiveled around at her entrance. -On all sides, the tiny reception room was lined with -young girls. There were tall, beautiful girls with -sleek hairdos and shiny patent leather hatboxes by -their sides. There were heavily made up girls whose -eyes glittered coldly as they surveyed the newcomer. -There were a few girls she recognized. Nobody was -happy to see her.</p> -<p>Peggy knew that this was the fierce competition of -the theater. It was part of the price you had to pay if -you wanted to come to New York. Tilting her chin -defiantly, Peggy closed the door and went over to a -peroxide blonde who sat listlessly behind a desk. The -blonde reached out a hand for a sheet of paper.</p> -<p>“Name?” she inquired in a bored voice. “Mr. -Stalkey’s interviewing by appointment only.”</p> -<p>“Lane,” Peggy replied in a clear voice. “Peggy -Lane.”</p> -<p>The blonde ran a bright red fingernail down a list -of names and stopped about halfway. “Who sentcha?” -she drawled with quick suspicion.</p> -<p>Peggy frowned. “I don’t ... what do you mean?” -she stammered.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_23">23</div> -<p>The blonde pursed her mouth in disapproval. -“What I’m trying to find out, dearie,” she said in a -voice edged with the patient annoyance of someone -talking to a retarded child, “is how come you’re here. -Who made the appointment for you?”</p> -<p>Light dawned. “Oh! Mr. Grey. Mr. Peter Grey.”</p> -<p>The answer seemed to satisfy. “Okay.” The receptionist -dismissed Peggy with a wave. “Find a seat.” -She returned to the magazine she had been reading.</p> -<p>Still feeling ill at ease, Peggy backed away from -the desk and looked around for a place to sit down. -The chairs along one wall were all filled. Opposite -them there was a bench with just enough room if -one of the girls would move over. Nobody budged -an inch. The silence was oppressive.</p> -<p>Suddenly making up her mind she was not going -to stand around awkwardly, Peggy moved over to -the bench and planted herself in front of the small -space.</p> -<p>“Excuse me,” she said in her sweetest voice, “would -you mind moving over?”</p> -<p>The girl who filled the spot Peggy wanted drew -herself up in an exaggerated shrug and slowly opened -a space.</p> -<p>“Thank you,” Peggy said as she sat down. Her -neighbor didn’t even bother to glance in her direction.</p> -<p>The silence continued.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_24">24</div> -<p>Suddenly from behind the closed door that led into -what Peggy assumed was Stalkey’s private office, she -could hear voices. There was a high-pitched burst, -then a deeper rumbling answer. A woman and a man -arguing, Peggy thought. A third voice cut in, a resonant -baritone. Two men and a woman.</p> -<p>There was a scream from the other room, followed -by a crash, and the woman’s voice shouting, “No! No! -No!”</p> -<p>“None of that now,” thundered the first man’s -voice. “I’m sick and tired of your childish temper -tantrums.”</p> -<p>“Temper tantrums!” came a screech. “How else -can I act when you simply refuse to listen to reason?”</p> -<p>“Oh, come off it, Katherine!” the second man said. -“Act your age.”</p> -<p>There was a stunned silence during which Peggy -had a chance to look around. Every girl in the reception -room had her eyes glued to the door. An air -of excited expectancy hung over the office. Even the -blond receptionist had put aside her magazine in -favor of the real-life drama going on in the next room.</p> -<p>Peggy heard the door bang open, and turning, saw -before her one of the great figures of the American -stage. Katherine Nelson, a portrait of elegance, stood -framed in the doorway.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_25">25</div> -<div class="img" id="pic2"> -<img src="images/p02.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="542" /> -<p class="caption"><i>Katherine Nelson had been world famous for many years.</i></p> -</div> -<div class="pb" id="Page_26">26</div> -<p>Katherine Nelson. Everyone knew of Katherine -Nelson. She had been world-famous for many years, -at the very top of her profession. But suddenly, about -five years ago—nobody knew why—she had begun -to slip. For some reason, she chose her plays badly, -and where once she had known nothing but success, -she had had to face the humiliation of failure. It had -been a long time since she had been on a stage in -New York, or anywhere else for that matter. She still -had her great name, of course. Katherine Nelson -would always be a magnet, but there was no denying -that as a star she was fading. Other, younger -actresses were moving up to take the roles that would -automatically have been hers a few years ago.</p> -<p>It was well known that Katherine Nelson did not -wear her years gracefully. References to age sent her -into towering rages that were the delight of all gossip -columnists, and the despair of those who had to -work with her. She stood now, not ten feet from -Peggy, her magnificent eyes flashing daggers. At first, -Peggy felt a thrill at being so near a famous person, -but surprisingly that passed almost at once. Instead -of staring at her face, Peggy caught herself looking at -Katherine Nelson’s hands as they gripped the door.</p> -<p>They were like claws, Peggy thought. They were -the hands of an old woman. With a start, Peggy -realized that despite her youthful figure and carefully -made-up face, Katherine Nelson could no longer -play romantic parts.</p> -<p>All this passed through Peggy’s mind in a flash, -before her train of thought was evaporated by a -throaty voice that rolled out in accents of anger.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_27">27</div> -<p>“You’ll remember whom you’re talking to, Oscar -Stalkey! There’s only one Katherine Nelson in the -theater, and if you’re not aware of it, there are hundreds -and thousands of people who are. People who -are prepared to stand in line all night, if necessary, -to get tickets to my plays. When you’ve thought <i>that</i> -over and are willing to discuss matters more intelligently, -you may call me!”</p> -<p>Shrugging into a magnificent silk-and-fur coat, -Katherine Nelson swept down between the two lines -of awed young girls, exactly as if she were making -a grand exit from a stage. As a matter of fact, this -was just what she <i>was</i> doing. It would have been -effective, too, except for one thing. Katherine Nelson -had a toy poodle on a leash, and the little dog took -a sudden playful liking to Peggy.</p> -<p>As his mistress passed Peggy, the tiny poodle -wagged his tail and trotted over. The unexpected -shift in course forced Katherine Nelson to stop. -Frowning with annoyance, she yanked at the dog’s -leash. But instead of following obediently, the poodle -gave a couple of shrill yips and scrambled up on -Peggy’s lap.</p> -<p>Blushing with embarrassment, Peggy tried to get -up and dislodge the animal. “Down, boy,” Peggy -commanded, making a wild grab for her purse which -was slipping to the floor.</p> -<p>The next instant, leash, purse, Peggy, and the -poodle were hopelessly entangled. Peggy sensed a -commanding figure hovering nearby. Katherine Nelson -was staring down at her in blazing fury.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_28">28</div> -<p>Peggy attempted an apologetic laugh as she tried -desperately to straighten out the mess at her feet. -Finally she got everything sorted out and handed -over the friendly poodle.</p> -<p>“I’m sorry,” Peggy said with a smile, offering the -dog. “We sort of got mixed up.”</p> -<p>Katherine Nelson jerked the poodle out of Peggy’s -hands rudely. “Clumsy idiot!” she muttered. Spots -of dull red showed in her face.</p> -<p>Peggy felt herself coloring too, but for a different -reason. “I really didn’t—” she stammered. “I’m awfully—”</p> -<p>“Will you get out of my way?” Katherine Nelson -blazed.</p> -<p>Peggy backed away hastily, catching her heel -against the side of the bench as she moved. She -flailed the air clumsily to keep from falling, then sat -down heavily. Her purse slipped to the floor again.</p> -<p>Katherine Nelson threw her a disdainful look, -swept on through the reception room, and out the -door.</p> -<p>Peggy had never been so embarrassed in her life. -She knew that every girl in the room was laughing -at her predicament. She only hoped that Oscar -Stalkey hadn’t noticed. But when she stole a quick, -shy glance at the door, she saw a short, bald man -staring at her owlishly through heavy, horn-rimmed -glasses. A cold cigar was clenched between his teeth. -Peggy recognized him at once from his pictures. It -was Oscar Stalkey. With a sinking heart, she realized -numbly that she was ruined before she even started. -She had made a perfect fool of herself, and there -wasn’t any point in staying.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_29">29</div> -<p>Staring straight ahead, Peggy got to her feet and -headed for the door. The walk seemed endless. She -was about halfway there when a deep voice growled -out.</p> -<p>“Hey! Where are you going?”</p> -<p>Peggy stopped and turned slowly, her eyes widening -in surprise.</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey was still standing in the doorway, -but now he was pointing a finger in her direction. -“Come in here,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”</p> -<p>There were gasps of surprise from the other girls. -Peggy swallowed once and pointed to herself. “Me?” -she asked in a voice that cracked.</p> -<p>“Well, who’d you think I meant?” came the gruff -answer. “Come in. I haven’t got all day.” He stepped -aside and motioned her to hurry.</p> -<p>Still unable to believe what was happening, Peggy -followed Oscar Stalkey blindly into his office.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_30">30</div> -<h2 id="c3"><span class="h2line1">III</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">The Inner Sanctum</span></h2> -<p>Four people were grouped in the office. There was -Stalkey himself, heavy-set and dynamic, hovering -impatiently by the door. Behind him in a corner -lounged a rather disheveled man in his mid-forties -who looked vaguely familiar. A young man in his -twenties, with a collegiate crew cut, stood by the -window. Beside him, behind the largest desk Peggy -had ever seen, sat Pam Mundy—the girl she had met -during the summer.</p> -<p>Pam seemed even more surprised than Peggy. Her -eyebrows shot up in twin crescents of astonishment -at the sight of her friend coming through the door. -But she quickly regained her composure and threw -Peggy a reassuring smile and wink.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_31">31</div> -<p>Anyone seeing Pam perched behind the massive -desk would have thought she was the most important -person in the room. Actually, she was Oscar -Stalkey’s secretary, using his desk because the veteran -producer seldom sat in a chair if he could avoid -it. All his business was conducted on the run, in a -restless course of constant pacing that was a little -hard to get accustomed to. The only reason he tolerated -the desk at all was because his wife had given -it to him as a surprise years ago, and he could never -bring himself to get rid of it. But at the time, Peggy -didn’t know this. She advanced into the room and -looked around uncertainly.</p> -<p>The untidy man in the corner unwound his long -legs from one side of his lounge chair, and stared at -Peggy with undisguised interest. The young man by -the window straightened up and greeted her with a -pleasant smile.</p> -<p>“Well, sit down, sit down,” came the gravelly voice -of Stalkey. “What’s your name?”</p> -<p>“Peggy Lane.” Peggy sat down on the edge of a -chair near the desk.</p> -<p>“Had much experience?” Stalkey was prowling -along a row of bookcases that lined the far wall of -his office.</p> -<p>There was a pause. Finally Peggy decided to be -straightforward. “No, Mr. Stalkey,” she replied with -a smile. “I’m afraid not much. A year of dramatic -school, a season of summer stock, a good off-Broadway -role, and a few walk-on parts.”</p> -<p>“That’s all?”</p> -<p>Peggy nodded. The rumpled man in the corner -looked at her with surprise. Stalkey merely grunted. -“How’d you get on our list for an appointment?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_32">32</div> -<p>Peggy glanced over at Pam. “I’m not sure,” she said. -“I got a phone call last night from a Mr. Grey.”</p> -<p>The young man at the window nodded. “I’m Peter -Grey,” he announced. “I got in touch with her, -Oscar.”</p> -<p>“Why?”</p> -<p>“Pam Mundy suggested it.”</p> -<p>All attention was now focused on the girl behind -the desk. Pam took the stares in stride. “I saw Peggy -in stock last summer,” she explained. “I’ve seen what -she can do, and I thought she might be right for the -understudy.”</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey grunted a second time and padded -over to the figure in the chair. “What do you think, -Craig?” he asked suddenly.</p> -<p>Craig Claiborne! Peggy finally recognized him. -He was the director of <i>Innocent Laughter</i> and would -probably perform a similar job for the road company -productions.</p> -<p>Claiborne shrugged noncommittally. “You were -the one who asked her to come in,” he said. “What -do you think?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_33">33</div> -<p>“Well, at least she’s honest,” Stalkey grumbled as -he shuffled off to continue his endless pacing. He -stopped and glared accusingly at Peggy. “You’ve no -idea,” he said mournfully, “how many girls try to tell -me they’ve had years of experience.” He threw up -his hands in exasperation. “They have the nerve—some -of them—to stand up and tell me they’ve been -acting for twenty years when I know perfectly well -they can’t be more than eighteen years old. Oh, -well—” He broke off abruptly and moved over to a -position in front of Peggy. “The reason I asked you -to step in here,” he said, “was because you looked -like the most human person out there.” He gestured -to the reception room in disgust. “That’s the biggest -collection of artificial people I’ve seen in months. -Where do the casting agents dig them up?” He -sighed and went on. “There was something about -your embarrassment when you had that run-in with -Katherine—”</p> -<p>Craig Claiborne interrupted with a chuckle. “Don’t -tell me she tangled with Katherine the Great?” he -asked.</p> -<p>“Tangled is the word,” Stalkey said happily. -“Peggy here ruined Katherine’s exit.”</p> -<p>Claiborne shook his head in mock dismay. “Oh, -oh.”</p> -<p>“That’s right.” Stalkey nodded. He turned back to -Peggy. “Tell me frankly. You didn’t know what to do -when that happened, now did you?”</p> -<p>Peggy smiled. “No, I didn’t. I was a little frightened -and terribly embarrassed.”</p> -<p>“And a little awed, too?” Stalkey asked, almost -eagerly.</p> -<p>“Yes,” Peggy admitted. “I guess I was.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_34">34</div> -<p>The producer rubbed his hands together with -pleasure. “And that,” he said exuberantly, “is exactly -the quality we want for the young schoolgirl friend -in <i>Innocent Laughter</i>. The only question is, are you -good enough to play the daughter—even as an understudy?” -Stalkey looked at Peggy searchingly, almost -as if a careful examination of her face could reveal -the extent of her talent.</p> -<p>It was an impossible question to answer. Peggy -was saved from trying by a telephone that jangled -suddenly.</p> -<p>Pam swooped down on it. “Yes?” she said crisply. -“Who’s calling?” She listened for a moment, then -covered the mouthpiece with one hand. “It’s Max -Borden from Talent Incorporated,” she said. “Do -you want to speak to him?”</p> -<p>Stalkey nodded wordlessly, and lunged for the -phone. “Hello,” he rasped, “Max?” He began to move -agitatedly back and forth across the room, cradling -the telephone in his left hand. “Did you get him?” -he asked eagerly.</p> -<p>There was a pause, and a look of frustration crossed -Stalkey’s face. “Well, can’t he get out of his contract?” -he said. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry too.” Another -pause. Stalkey used it to shift his cigar over to the -other side of his mouth. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Yeah, -I know. No, I don’t have the faintest idea. Think -about it and call me back. If we get any brain waves -here at our end we’ll let you know. G’by.” He hung -up the receiver and stared moodily at the telephone -as if it had done him some personal injury.</p> -<p>“Charlie Forsythe can’t play the part,” he announced. -“He’s tied up with a movie contract.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_35">35</div> -<p>Charles Forsythe, Peggy knew, was one of the -outstanding character actors in America. Stalkey -must have been trying to get him for the role of the -grandfather in <i>Innocent Laughter</i>. For the first time, -she realized it wasn’t always too easy to cast a play.</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey apparently had forgotten Peggy’s -existence. “Any ideas?” he rapped out. “We’ve got to -settle this in the next few days.”</p> -<p>“What about Eddie Jarmin?” Craig Claiborne suggested. -“I remember he did something similar in <i>Bed -of Roses</i> a couple of years back.”</p> -<p>“Yeah,” Stalkey said unenthusiastically. “He sure -did and was he terrible! No, thanks!”</p> -<p>“There’s always James Donohue,” Claiborne said.</p> -<p>“Yes, there is,” Stalkey admitted. “When he remembers -to show up for rehearsal.” He trotted over -to the other side of the room in a burst of agitation.</p> -<p>“Why is it,” he said to no one in particular, “that -good, dependable character actors are so hard to -come by? I can reach out and put my hand on half -a hundred leading men and a thousand juveniles. But -a character actor!” He shook his head helplessly. “Oh, -well....”</p> -<p>Over by the window Peter Grey stirred restlessly. -“You know,” he said with an almost apologetic laugh, -“you may think I’m crazy, but I’ve got an idea.”</p> -<p>“Let’s have it,” Stalkey shot back.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_36">36</div> -<p>Peter advanced toward the center of the room, -speaking with mounting excitement. “What we want,” -he said, “is a man with a sure sense of comedy. -Somebody with a breezy style and a good ear for -laugh lines. But even more than that, he’s got to be -able to move the audience. There’s that big scene -with the daughter, for instance. That’s got to be -done beautifully, with a great deal of tenderness.”</p> -<p>Stalkey snapped his fingers impatiently. “Sure, -sure,” he said. “We know all that. But I’ll settle for -someone who can get us the laughs.”</p> -<p>“Why not get somebody who can do both?”</p> -<p>Stalkey snorted. “Stop dreaming,” he said. “They -don’t make them like that any more.”</p> -<p>“There’s one person who just might be able to do -it,” Peter said slowly. “If we can get him.”</p> -<p>“Who?”</p> -<p>Peter grinned. “This is the crazy part,” he said. -He paused as the others waited expectantly. “Tom -Agate,” he finally blurted out.</p> -<p>“Tom Agate!” Craig Claiborne said in a puzzled -voice. “Isn’t he dead?”</p> -<p>Peter scratched the back of his head. “I don’t think -so,” he said. “The last I heard he was still living here.”</p> -<p>“Tom Agate,” Oscar Stalkey murmured slowly. -“Tom Agate.” He spoke the name a second time as if -relishing the sound, then looked up at Peter sharply. -“How do you know about Tom Agate?” he demanded. -“I thought only us old-timers remembered -him.”</p> -<p>Peter laughed. “Oh, I used to be crazy about him. -My father took me to see Tom Agate every time he -played a USO show anywhere near where my father -was stationed during World War II.”</p> -<p>“Who,” Pam asked almost shyly, “is Tom Agate?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_37">37</div> -<p>Oscar Stalkey waved a hand in Pam’s direction. -“You see?” he demanded with a wry smile. “There’s -fame for you, Tom Agate,” he said, turning to Pam, -“was just about the most famous song-and-dance man -in vaudeville. You’ve heard stories about the good -old days in the theater—about the grand troupers -who always went on to give a performance no matter -how they were feeling—”</p> -<p>Peter put his hand over his heart melodramatically. -“Even if they were crying inside.”</p> -<p>Stalkey nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. It sounds real -corny today, but they actually did it, and Tom Agate -was one of the greatest.” As he walked back and -forth, from one corner of the room to the other, his -eyes shining with excitement, Peggy suddenly saw -what May Berriman meant when she said that Oscar -Stalkey had all the enthusiasm of a little boy. He was -in love with the theater, after thirty years still as -stage-struck as a newcomer.</p> -<p>“Tom Agate,” Oscar Stalkey was saying. “Why, -I’ve seen that man hold an entire audience in the -palm of his hand for more than an hour.”</p> -<p>“What did he do?” Pam asked.</p> -<p>“Do?” Stalkey frowned. “He was a performer. He -sang songs, danced a little.”</p> -<p>“Actually, he danced badly,” Peter Grey said with -a smile.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_38">38</div> -<p>Stalkey was forced to agree. “Yes, I guess he did. -But that didn’t make any difference. He was a personality -and the audience loved him.” Stalkey made -another tour of his office. “That was his secret,” he -said. “He understood people. He knew what made -them laugh, and he knew how to move them.” Stalkey -stopped abruptly as if struck by a thought. He -cocked his head to one side as if trying to recall -something. “What was the name of that song he always -sang—it was his theme song, an Irish ballad, I -think—ah, yes, ‘Kathleen Aroon’ it was. He used to -play the banjo along with it.”</p> -<p>“Yes, but Oscar,” Craig Claiborne objected, “he -was just a song-and-dance man. Even the movies he -did were just filming his vaudeville routines. He’s -never had any acting experience.”</p> -<p>“Acting experience, my foot!” Stalkey said. “What -the dickens does that mean? The man’s been on the -stage for most of his life!”</p> -<p>“You’ve got to admit,” Claiborne replied patiently, -“that playing a sustained role is a lot different from -coming out for a few minutes every night with a song -or two and some jokes.”</p> -<p>“Oh, I know, I know.” Stalkey brushed him away. -“You may be right. But I still think it’s worth a -chance. I’d like to hear him read for the part.”</p> -<p>“I don’t know,” Claiborne said dubiously. “It’s taking -a big chance.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_39">39</div> -<p>“Not as much as you think,” Stalkey said earnestly. -“Besides, I bet there are people all over this country -who still remember Tom Agate and would come to -see him. His old vaudeville admirers, his movie and -radio audiences, the men he entertained during the -war. He might be quite a drawing card.” He hopped -over to Peter and clapped him on the back.</p> -<p>“Peter,” he chortled, “I think you’ve hit it.”</p> -<p>“If you can find him,” Claiborne added.</p> -<p>Stalkey nodded. “Do you think you can track him -down?” he asked Peter anxiously.</p> -<p>Peter shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But -I’ll certainly try.”</p> -<p>“You’ll have to locate him within the next three -days,” Stalkey warned.</p> -<p>“Meanwhile,” Claiborne said, “we’d better contact -Eddie Jarmin or Jim Donohue. If this Agate fellow -doesn’t pan out, we’ll have to fall back on one of -them.”</p> -<p>“Yes, I suppose so,” Stalkey said mournfully. “Will -you see to it, Pam?”</p> -<p>Pam made a note of the request and then cleared -her throat. “There’s another matter you’ve got to attend -to,” she said.</p> -<p>Stalkey stopped in surprise. “What’s that?”</p> -<p>Pam pointed to the door. “You’ve got about two -dozen young ladies cooling their heels out there. -Don’t you think you’d better see them?”</p> -<p>Stalkey clapped his hand over his forehead. “What -a waste of time!” he groaned. He turned and walked -over to the door.</p> -<p>“Wait a minute,” Pam called out. “What about -Peggy Lane?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_40">40</div> -<p>Stalkey stopped and looked at Peggy for the first -time since the phone call. “Oh,” he said, blinking at -her as if she were a complete stranger. “Oh, well, tomorrow -morning, then,” he said airily.</p> -<p>“For what?” Peggy asked timidly.</p> -<p>Stalkey wrung his hands impatiently. “For what?” -he muttered. “To read, of course,” he said. “We want -you to read for the general understudy.” He glanced -over at Claiborne. “What time are we holding tryouts?” -he asked.</p> -<p>“Nine-thirty,” the director answered.</p> -<p>“Nine-thirty,” Stalkey said. “Be at the Elgin Theater -at nine-thirty tomorrow morning to read a scene -from <i>Innocent Laughter</i>. Is that clear?”</p> -<p>Peggy nodded numbly. “Yes, sir,” she said.</p> -<p>“Good.” Stalkey went over to the door and threw -it open. “Thank you very much,” he said briskly. -“That’ll be all for now.”</p> -<p>Peggy gathered her purse and gloves, made her -way unsteadily to the door, passed down a double -line of curious, envying stares, and finally found herself -outside by the elevator door. As she waited -for it, she wondered if she could get back to the -Gramercy Arms without screaming for joy. She had -passed the first test.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_41">41</div> -<h2 id="c4"><span class="h2line1">IV</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">“Innocent Laughter”</span></h2> -<p>“Ground floor.”</p> -<p>The elevator bumped to a halt and discharged its -load of passengers into the busy lobby. Still numb -from the half hour she had spent in Oscar Stalkey’s -office, Peggy allowed herself to be pulled along by -the crowd that surged toward the building entrance.</p> -<p>The big clock above the main doors registered a -little after eleven—too early for lunch and too late -to make any more appointments for the morning. -Peggy idly wondered what to do next. Her first impulse -had been to go directly to the Gramercy Arms -with the news. But Amy was out and May was probably -busy. Besides, at eleven o’clock on a weekday -morning, the big house would be almost deserted. -The girls nearly all were on jobs or were out busily -hunting them.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_42">42</div> -<p>Suddenly, Peggy felt strangely lonely. The need -for someone to talk to became overwhelming. She -paused by the public telephone booths near the revolving -door and thought of calling home to Rockport, -Wisconsin. She could almost hear her mother -at the other end of the line, excited and happy to -hear the good news. It would be good to hear her -familiar voice again.</p> -<p>On the other hand, wasn’t it silly to call now before -she really knew about the part? Wouldn’t it be -better to wait until she was sure and not make the -same mistake Amy had made with her mother?</p> -<p>Peggy was still standing indecisively beside the -telephone booth when the elevator behind her -clanged open to release a second wave of people. The -flood engulfed her and flowed on to the door.</p> -<p>“Watch it, lady,” growled an irritated voice. -“You’re blocking the road.”</p> -<p>Hastily Peggy moved out of the way. “Sorry,” she -said, backing into a delivery boy on his way into the -building with a full load of packages.</p> -<p>“Why don’tcha look where yer going?” the delivery -boy muttered, glaring balefully at her over the top -of his packages.</p> -<p>“Sorry,” Peggy murmured again. She decided she’d -better get out of the line of traffic, but as she turned -toward one of the side doors, a hand reached out and -held her back.</p> -<p>“Excuse me,” said a familiar voice, “but can you -use the services of a good, reliable Boy Scout? I’m -kind, honest, trustworthy, true—”</p> -<p>Peggy spun around with a gasp of surprise. -“Randy! What are you doing here?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_43">43</div> -<p>The tall, lean figure of Randolph Brewster, the -young playwright Peggy had met when she first came -to New York, hovered over her. “I sent my spies -out early this morning.” He laughed. “They tracked -you down to this place.” He moved closer and took -her arm. “Well?” he asked expectantly.</p> -<p>Peggy looked at him sharply. “Who told you about -<i>that</i>?” she demanded. “Honestly, Randy, can’t a girl -have any secrets?”</p> -<p>“Nope,” he answered good-naturedly. “Not from -me, anyway. All right,” he said. “I’ll tell you how I -know. Amy told me.”</p> -<p>“Amy!”</p> -<p>“Sure. She was on the phone at a quarter past eight -this morning, talking thirteen to the dozen. She was -convinced that you’d get a chance to read for the -part. Did you?”</p> -<p>Peggy’s breathless nod gave him the answer. -Randy grinned and gave her arm an enthusiastic -squeeze. “That’s wonderful, Peggy! When do you -audition?”</p> -<p>“Tomorrow morning at nine-thirty.”</p> -<p>Randy pushed her ahead of him into the revolving -door. “Where are we going?” she asked over her -shoulder, but the door had already closed behind her. -The next instant she found herself on the street, waiting -for Randy. “You seem in an awful hurry,” she said -as Randy emerged. “What’s up?”</p> -<p>“You’ll see,” Randy said as he reclaimed her arm. -“Amy’s got a surprise lined up for you.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_44">44</div> -<p>“Can’t you tell me what it is?”</p> -<p>Randy smiled. “I suppose so. Amy’s been waiting -in line outside the Elgin Theater since nine o’clock -this morning. She’s determined to get standing-room -tickets for this afternoon’s performance of <i>Innocent -Laughter</i>.”</p> -<p>Peggy stopped. “Not really!” She gasped.</p> -<p>“Yes, really.” Randy urged her on. “Come on, let’s -tell her the good news.”</p> -<p>A few moments later, they turned the corner and -walked down one of the side streets that run into -Broadway. They were now in the heart of New York’s -theater district, where famous names stared down at -them from every side. When Peggy first had come to -New York, she had envisioned theaters stretching -along the entire length of Broadway. It had been -quite a surprise to discover that nearly all of New -York’s theaters were actually located on rather -shabby-looking side streets. But there they were, -with one block housing as many as half a dozen play-houses, -each with its tremendous sign and a marquee -jutting out over the pavement.</p> -<p>Under one of the marquees, about halfway down -the block, stood Amy. She saw them coming and ran -toward them, waving a small envelope triumphantly.</p> -<p>“I got them!” she cried. She came to a stop beside -Peggy and stared at her hopefully, eyes sparkling in -anticipation. “Now, honey,” she said, “you’ve got to -tell me it’s been worth it, standing all this time. -You’re going to read for the part, aren’t you?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_45">45</div> -<div class="img" id="pic3"> -<img src="images/p03.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="765" /> -<p class="caption"><i>Amy waved a small envelope triumphantly.</i></p> -</div> -<div class="pb" id="Page_46">46</div> -<p>Peggy smiled and nodded. “Tomorrow morning,” -she said. “I can’t believe it yet—”</p> -<p>Amy let out a whoop and grabbed Peggy’s hands. -“Oh, honey, I could kiss you, I’m so happy.” She -looked at Randy proudly. “You see!” she demanded. -“Didn’t I tell you?”</p> -<p>“You sure did,” Randy admitted with a grin. “Even -at a quarter past eight this morning. I could have -cheerfully wrung your neck for waking me up!”</p> -<p>“It did you good to get up,” Amy told him. “Now -you’ve got to tell me all about it,” she said to Peggy. -“Let’s take a walk, have a nice lunch, and then get -to the theater early.”</p> -<p>“But aren’t you tired, Amy?” Peggy protested. -“You’ve been standing here all morning.”</p> -<p>Amy laughed her tinkling, infectious laugh. “After -a year of looking for work in New York,” she said, -“my feet are used to it.” She wedged between Peggy -and Randy, took both of them by the arm, and swung -down the street toward Broadway. “Come on, you -all,” she said cheerfully. “I want to hear everything -that happened....”</p> -<p>At six o’clock that evening, the three of them were -sitting in Tony’s Place, a postage stamp-sized restaurant -near the Gramercy Arms that specialized in -heaping plates of spaghetti, smothered with rich, -aromatic meat sauce. The spaghetti was ordered and -on its way. Meanwhile, they were munching on -crusty Italian bread with sweet butter.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_47">47</div> -<p>“Whew!” Amy exclaimed wearily, as she speared -a pat of butter from the iced butter dish in the center -of the table. “It sure is good to sit down. What -did you think of the play?”</p> -<p>Peggy shook her head enviously. “Diana Peters was -awfully good, wasn’t she? The way she played that -scene with the old grandfather, you could tell what -she was thinking and what she was feeling every -minute. I don’t think I could ever do that—”</p> -<p>“Oh, don’t talk silly,” Amy said, biting into a piece -of bread. “That’s exactly the kind of part you <i>can</i> -play.”</p> -<p>“I don’t know,” Peggy replied dubiously. “What -do you think, Randy?”</p> -<p>Randy had been absorbed in thought ever since -they left the matinee. At that moment, he was chewing -moodily on a crisp stalk of green celery. “I -wouldn’t worry about that scene too much,” he said. -“You just said yourself you knew what she was thinking -and feeling every minute.”</p> -<p>“Yes, but—”</p> -<p>Randy leaned forward, jabbing the stalk of celery -in Peggy’s direction. “What <i>was</i> she thinking?” he -queried. “That girl in the play. Now don’t forget, -she’s in New York for the first time. She doesn’t -know her mother very well and she’s never even met -her grandmother. What’s she looking for?”</p> -<p>Peggy shrugged. “Excitement, I suppose. Life.”</p> -<p>Randy nodded emphatically. “That’s it,” he said. -“In her mind, she sees New York as a romantic fairy-tale -city where people can live exciting lives—”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_48">48</div> -<p>“If they know how,” Amy interrupted.</p> -<p>“Exactly,” Randy said. “And the daughter in the -play doesn’t know how. When she first comes on -stage, she’s hoping that her mother will tell her. But -her mother is too preoccupied with her own life to -spend much time with her daughter’s problems. In -fact, it never even occurs to her that she has any.”</p> -<p>“And later on,” Amy chimed in, “the daughter turns -to her grandmother—the one she’s never met before. -Again, the same thing happens.”</p> -<p>“At that point,” Randy said, taking charge of the -conversation, “the daughter realizes she’s on her own. -She decides the thing to do is to fall in love. Unfortunately, -the first man she meets is all wrong for her. -But she can’t see it and neither can the others.”</p> -<p>“But the grandfather sees it,” Amy said brightly.</p> -<p>“Yes,” Randy nodded. “He knows what she’s doing -and has a long talk with her. On the surface it’s very -light and funny, but actually it goes deeper than -that. His granddaughter means a lot to the old man, -and he’s trying the best way he knows how to give -her the experience of his years. He knows he can’t -lecture her—she’s too stubborn for that, and so they -just sit by the fire and talk. They talk about life and -growing up. About families and the tremendous joy -that life offers. All of that.”</p> -<p>“You mean,” Peggy said, “that the grandfather and -the young girl are getting to know each other as -people, not just as relatives.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_49">49</div> -<p>Bandy slapped his hand down on the table. “That’s -exactly it,” he said approvingly. “It’s a scene where -two people start out as comparative strangers and -end up as close friends. Despite all the laugh lines, -it’s a very tender moment—and that’s the way it -should be played.”</p> -<p>“You don’t think I should try for comedy?” Peggy -asked.</p> -<p>Randy shook his head emphatically. “Everybody -will be doing that,” he said. “If you offer them something -a little different, they’ll notice you. Besides, -the play is so well written that the comedy can take -care of itself.”</p> -<p>“All right,” Peggy said. “I’ll do it. But that’s not -the way Diana Peters played it this afternoon.”</p> -<p>Randy frowned. “I know it,” he said. “And that’s -been worrying me. Right now <i>Innocent Laughter</i> -is being acted all wrong.”</p> -<p>Amy broke into a laugh. “Oh, Randy!” she cried. -“Here’s the biggest hit on Broadway, and you say it’s -all wrong.”</p> -<p>“No, listen to me,” Randy said, hunching over the -table earnestly. “Who’s the central character?”</p> -<p>“The mother,” Amy replied promptly. “It’s the -biggest part.”</p> -<p>“It may be the biggest part,” Randy said. “But the -play doesn’t hang together that way.”</p> -<p>“Well, what’s wrong with it?” Amy challenged.</p> -<p>“I think the emphasis should be shifted to the two -older people,” Randy replied.</p> -<p>“You mean the grandmother and the grandfather?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_50">50</div> -<p>“Right. Look at the mother. She’s shallow at the -beginning and just as shallow at the end. She hasn’t -learned a thing. But the grandmother has. After all, -she decides to go back to the grandfather. You remember -that wonderful scene between the two of -them in the second act?”</p> -<p>“Yes,” said Peggy. “I thought that was the best -thing in the play.”</p> -<p>“I did too,” Randy said. “You see, <i>Innocent Laughter</i> -deals with three women who are being very foolish -about their lives. The grandfather is brought in -to straighten them out. He succeeds with two of them, -but fails with the third.”</p> -<p>“Then why didn’t they play it the way you think it -should be done?” Amy demanded.</p> -<p>Randy shrugged. “It’s hard to say, but my guess is -they wanted a glamorous star to play the part of the -mother and had to tailor the whole play around her. -Don’t misunderstand me. I think it’s still a good play, -but it could be much, much better.”</p> -<p>“Maybe you’re right,” Amy said, brushing the -bread crumbs to one side. “But let’s have a short intermission. -Soup’s on.”</p> -<p>Smiling genially, as he threaded his way past the -tables in his crowded restaurant, came Tony with -the spaghetti.</p> -<p>“Ahhh!” breathed Amy contentedly. “What a beautiful -sight. I’m so hungry I could eat miles of it.”</p> -<p>“Eat all you want,” Randy told her airily. “Treat’s -on me tonight.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_51">51</div> -<p>“Oh, no,” Peggy protested. “We’re going Dutch, -same as always.”</p> -<p>“Nothing doing,” Randy said. “Tonight we celebrate.”</p> -<p>“Don’t you think it’s a little early?” Peggy said.</p> -<p>Randy looked over at her and slowly shook his -head. “No, I don’t,” he said, reaching out for her -hand. “Frankly, I don’t think you can miss.”</p> -<p>Randy kept Peggy’s hand in his until Tony came -up to their table, looking for a place to put the -cheese. Finally Randy drew his hand back and gave -Peggy a wordless smile.</p> -<p>It was nice to know everyone was so confident, -Peggy thought to herself, but she knew tomorrow -wouldn’t be easy. She glanced up at the clock over -the open kitchen in the rear. It read six-thirty. In -fifteen hours, she would be on the stage of the Elgin -Theater, reading for the part of the general understudy -in <i>Innocent Laughter</i>. Just fifteen short hours! -The thought sent a shiver of dread and almost unbearable -excitement running down her back. Telling -herself that tomorrow was still a long way off, Peggy -picked up a fork and tried to concentrate on Tony’s -wonderful spaghetti.</p> -<p>Why, she wondered miserably, had she ever -thought she could be an actress? Why hadn’t she -stayed home in Rockport and become a schoolteacher -as her father had wished?</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_52">52</div> -<h2 id="c5"><span class="h2line1">V</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">Tryouts</span></h2> -<p>Peggy was still thinking the same thing the following -morning as she walked up Broadway toward the -Elgin Theater. The day had started off badly with -showers and sharp, gusty blasts of wind that sent a -fine rain spattering over the deserted streets. New -York’s theater district was like a ghost town in the -early-morning hours. Except for a few familiar faces—the -blind newspaper dealer at the corner of Forty-fourth -and Broadway, the white-jacketed soda fountain -clerk reading a magazine in the window, and -the inevitable knot of musicians clustered at the corner -of Forty-fifth street—no one was abroad. People -in show business worked late and slept late. But by -noon, Peggy knew, the streets would be crowded.</p> -<p>She hurried past the newspaper stand, her high -heels beating a brisk tattoo on the sidewalk. The -dealer was sitting inside his tiny booth behind neat -stacks of newspapers. When he heard Peggy’s footsteps -his head came up and a smile crossed his face.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_53">53</div> -<p>“Good morning, miss,” he said cheerfully. “You’re -out early today.”</p> -<p>“Good morning,” Peggy called back. “Not a very -nice day, is it?”</p> -<p>“Not for some,” the blind man replied. “But it’s a -grand day for you.”</p> -<p>Peggy stopped in her tracks and stared at him. -“What do you mean?” she asked.</p> -<p>The newspaper dealer’s smile broadened. “Your -audition this morning.” He chuckled at Peggy’s obvious -astonishment, even though he couldn’t see her -face. “Word gets around,” he assured her. “After all, -you’ve passed my stand nearly every morning for -months now. I like to know my customers. Good luck. -We’re all pulling for you.”</p> -<p>“Who—” Peggy started to say, but he waved her -on.</p> -<p>“You don’t have much time,” he told her. “But -don’t be too surprised. You’ve got more friends in -New York than you think.”</p> -<p>Peggy said good-by and moved on, reflecting that -New York wasn’t such a big place after all. People -said it was cold and impersonal, but maybe it wasn’t -as bad as they insisted.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_54">54</div> -<div class="img" id="pic4"> -<img src="images/p04.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="659" /> -<p class="caption"><i>“Good luck. We’re all pulling for you,” the blind newsdealer said.</i></p> -</div> -<div class="pb" id="Page_55">55</div> -<p>The soft-drink counter that fronted on Broadway -was halfway down the next block. A garish red-and-orange -sign, bigger than the shop, proclaimed that it -specialized in a drink called PinaCola. Against a violently -colored scene of neon-lighted palm trees a -second sign advertised PinaCola as a “Refreshing, -Tropical Fruit Drink—a Sparkling Blend of Fresh -Pineapple Juice and Cola.” The store also served -hot dogs and hamburgers, a limited menu of sandwiches, -and hot tea and coffee. It was built so that -customers could get service directly from the street -without going inside. Peggy often stopped there in -the morning for a cup of tea, which was served by a -friendly, gum-chewing attendant named Harry.</p> -<p>Harry, as usual, sat near the front of the store, his -starched white cap perched on the back of his head. -As Peggy passed by, he looked up from his magazine -and rapped on the sliding glass window that opened -out on the street.</p> -<p>Peggy heard the sound and smiled over at him. -Harry broke into a huge grin and crossed his fingers -in what was obviously a good-luck sign. Peggy waved -and hurried ahead. Even Harry knew where she was -going.</p> -<p>Before she had time to puzzle out the almost magical -way news seemed to get around on Broadway, -she was stopped by a third well-wisher.</p> -<p>“Good luck, baby,” came a voice from a nearby -doorway. “Belt it out real cool, and knock ’em dead.” -Three or four other men smiled and nodded.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_56">56</div> -<p>They were musicians who congregated daily in the -same place. No one quite knew why they were there, -but at practically any hour of the day or night you -could find them. The area was generally known as -the “musicians’ corner” and if anyone needed a trumpet -player or a guitarist on short notice, he could -call the cigar counter in the lobby of the building. -The attendant was careful to hold all messages. It -was one of those informal arrangements that puzzled -outsiders but was accepted without question by those -who lived and worked in that strange world in New -York called show business.</p> -<p>Peggy smiled back at the men and turned down -the street that led to the Elgin Theater. At the corner -her progress was momentarily halted by a line -of sleepy-looking people boarding a chartered bus -parked in front of a sign that read: “Sight-seeing -Tours Meet Here.” A brisk, businesslike man in uniform -was herding them aboard.</p> -<p>“Step lively, folks,” he was saying. “New York’s a -big city and we’ve got a lot to see.” He gave Peggy -a good-natured wink as she went by, as if acknowledging -the presence of another insider—a greeting -from one New Yorker to another. It made Peggy feel -that she belonged in the big city and that she was -really a part of Manhattan. She swung down the -street with renewed confidence.</p> -<p>In front of the theater, a row of shiny glass doors -blocked her entrance. A small printed sign over the -center door informed the public that “Box Office -Opens at 10 <span class="sc">A.M.</span>” Peggy tried the door and found it -locked.</p> -<p>Moving to the next door, she was met by a gray-haired -man who opened it a crack. “Sorry,” he said. -“Box office won’t be open for another half hour.” Off -to her right, Peggy noticed that a line had already -formed. The early birds watched her with interest.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_57">57</div> -<p>“I have an appointment,” Peggy said. “With Mr. -Stalkey.”</p> -<p>The doorkeeper immediately stepped back and -motioned her inside. “Just a minute,” he said, reaching -for a list on a clipboard. “Your name, please?”</p> -<p>“Peggy Lane.”</p> -<p>The man checked off her name with a flourish. -“Right. Go inside, please.”</p> -<p>Peggy nodded at him absent-mindedly and pushed -her way into the dark interior of the theater.</p> -<p>There was something about a deserted theater that -was both lifeless and exciting. It was a strange, -gloomy world of silent rows of seats that looked almost -like headstones in a cemetery.</p> -<p>And then there was the smell.</p> -<p>All empty theaters had the same unmistakable -odor. It was a combination of stale air and fish glue. -The glue, Peggy knew from many long hours in summer -stock, was called “sizing,” and was used over -canvas flats to keep them stretched tight on their -frames. Its odor was barely noticeable at the back of -the house, but farther on down, close to the stage, it -was quite strong. Backstage, of course, it was strongest, -but there it was mixed with countless other odors -of theatrical life—the sweet, oily smell of grease -paint, the acrid cloud that was generated by the -electrician’s lighting board—all so familiar to Peggy. -They were an integral part of her life, just as the -smell of printer’s ink was of her father’s.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_58">58</div> -<p>Blinking her eyes until they were adjusted to the -shadowy darkness, Peggy was aware that the curtain -was up. In the middle of the stage stood a plain -worklight—an ugly, bare iron pole topped with a -single, powerful electric light bulb. It shed a harsh, -uncompromising light that threw grotesque shadows -over the back of the set and down into the orchestra. -Near the rail that separated the orchestra pit from -the audience, Peggy could see three or four men, -deep in earnest, low-voiced conversation. In various -parts of the auditorium, girls were sitting in groups -or singly. Nobody noticed her and nobody came up -to tell her what to do, so Peggy slipped unobtrusively -into one of the seats off a side aisle.</p> -<p>In a few moments, one of the men down front -stood up and consulted his watch. From his tall, -loose-limbed movements, Peggy recognized him as -Craig Claiborne, the director of <i>Innocent Laughter</i>.</p> -<p>Claiborne moved up the center aisle, scanned the -house, and apparently was satisfied with what he -saw. He turned and cupped his hands over his -mouth.</p> -<p>“Frank!” he yelled. “Let’s have some lights.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_59">59</div> -<p>From somewhere backstage a muffled voice -shouted, “Okay!” The next instant the stage was -flooded with a soft yellow light. A moment later -an electrician shuffled over to the worklight, unplugged -it, and dragged it off to the wings. As he -made his ungraceful exit, a tall, wiry man in his shirt -sleeves stepped on stage. In his hand, he carried two -scripts. He sat down behind a small, wooden table -near the footlights and proceeded to light a cigarette -despite the <span class="sc">No Smoking</span> signs that covered the theater -walls. No one objected.</p> -<p>Claiborne turned and mounted some steps that led -to the stage. Shading his eyes against the glare, he -advanced toward the audience and cleared his throat -for attention.</p> -<p>“Good morning,” he began. “I’ll skip the preliminaries -because we all know why we’re here. The -scene I want you to read this morning is in the second -act of <i>Innocent Laughter</i>. It takes place between -the young daughter and her grandfather. You understand -that you’re not reading for the part of the -daughter, but for the general understudy. Let me -quickly describe the action for you, and we’ll start.”</p> -<p>In a long-legged stride, Claiborne moved to a doorway -at stage left. “The daughter comes through this -door into the living room. She thinks it is deserted, -but actually her grandfather is sitting in that wing -chair by the fire. The audience can see him, but she -can’t. At this point in the play, the daughter has just -decided to marry the young man. She’s excited at the -prospect and also a little unsure of herself. She goes -over to the window here”—Claiborne walked to a -set of double French doors—“and looks out. She -sighs once, then the grandfather speaks. She turns -around in surprise, and they begin their conversation.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_60">60</div> -<p>Claiborne returned to the footlights. “I want each -of you to go through the entrance. Mr. Fox”—he indicated -the man puffing on a cigarette—“will read -the scene with you. Mr. Fox, incidentally, is our assistant -stage manager.”</p> -<p>The man at the table acknowledged the introduction -by lifting one hand and then letting it drop.</p> -<p>“Now then,” Claiborne said, “we’ll have Miss Celia -Forrester.” As a blond girl in a very tight dress got -up to take her place on the stage, Claiborne continued, -“Keep on reading until I tell you to stop. -When you’re excused, please return the script to Mr. -Fox and leave the theater by the stage door. You’ll -find it out beyond stage right.”</p> -<p>Miss Forrester, meanwhile, had collected her copy -of the playscript from Mr. Fox and was already disappearing -behind the door. “All right, Miss Forrester,” -Claiborne called out. “We’re ready whenever -you are. Remember to take your time.”</p> -<p>There was an expectant hush as everyone in the -theater settled back to wait for the girl’s entrance. -It came in a rush. The door flew open and Miss Forrester -leaped out on stage, clutching the manuscript -in one hand. Looking a little like some hunted animal, -she darted over to the window and groaned ecstatically. -That was the cue for Mr. Fox to read his line, -but he was so fascinated by the girl’s entrance, he -merely stared at her. The young actress flashed him -a peremptory glance and heaved her sigh a second -time. The assistant stage manager started guiltily and -quickly found the place.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_61">61</div> -<p>“‘Why did you come in so quietly?’” Mr. Fox read. -“‘You’re as furtive as a lady burglar tonight. What’s -wrong?’”</p> -<p>He had a high-pitched nasal voice without a trace -of expression.</p> -<p>Miss Forrester whirled around with a gasp. “‘Oh!’” -she cried in a simpering tone. “‘I didn’t know anybody -was here.’”</p> -<p>“‘I’ll go if you like,’” Mr. Fox continued.</p> -<p>Miss Forrester tripped over to him girlishly. “‘Oh, -no! Please don’t,’” she said breathlessly. “‘There’s—there’s -something I want to talk to you about.’” -For some reason, Miss Forrester decided that a laugh -would be effective at this point. It rang clear and -loud through the hollow stillness of the empty theater.</p> -<p>Peggy saw Craig Claiborne slump deeper into his -seat and bury his head in his hands. After a few more -moments he unwound himself and stood up. “Thank -you—thank you very much, Miss Forrester. We’ll call -you.”</p> -<p>Miss Forrester, who had been stopped in mid-sentence, -closed her mouth and returned the playscript -to Mr. Fox. Flashing Claiborne a smile, she -left the stage.</p> -<p>“Miss Palmers, please,” Claiborne announced. “Miss -Ruth Palmers.”</p> -<p>Ruth Palmers turned out to be an extremely self-assured -young woman who took the script from Mr. -Fox as though she were doing him a favor. She glided -haughtily to the door and closed it behind her.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_62">62</div> -<p>“All right,” Claiborne called. “Any time.”</p> -<p>The door opened slowly, and Miss Palmers was -revealed leaning languorously against the frame. -Keeping her eyes fixed on some distant point in space, -she stepped on stage and floated over to the window. -Collecting herself, she arched her back and breathed -a tiny bored sigh.</p> -<p>“‘Why did you come in so quietly?’” read the -faithful Mr. Fox. “‘You’re as furtive as a lady burglar -tonight. What’s wrong?’”</p> -<p>Miss Palmers gave a little pout of surprise and -turned to regard him coldly. “‘Ahh,’” she drawled. -“‘I didn’t know anybody was here.’”</p> -<p>“‘I’ll go if you like,’” came the answering line, as -the scene got under way for the second time.</p> -<p>Miss Palmers lasted a little longer than Miss Forrester -before she too was dismissed. The third girl -was allowed to read the entire scene. Peggy saw she -was a good, competent actress. Claiborne even -worked with her on some of the lines.</p> -<p>The fourth candidate was banished before she -could read two lines. She departed from the stage -looking thoroughly defeated—as if this sort of thing -happened to her all the time.</p> -<p>Both of the next two girls read well. Peggy noticed -they had bright, attractive personalities which shone -especially when they came to the laugh lines. It -would be her turn soon. She only hoped that Randy -was right in his diagnosis of the scene. She was determined -to play it with tenderness.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_63">63</div> -<p>Peggy was jolted back to reality by Craig Claiborne’s -voice calling, “Miss Lane. Miss Peggy Lane, -please.”</p> -<p>Peggy lifted herself out of her seat and walked -down the aisle on rubbery legs. Suddenly her throat -became as dry as a lump of cotton wool. But somehow -she managed to get on stage, take the script -from Mr. Fox, and move through the door.</p> -<p>At last she was backstage at the Elgin Theater. -All around her, coils of wire and rope snaked across -the floor. Above her, high over the stage, she could -see rows of heavy sandbags used as counterweights -whenever scenery was “flown.” Behind her, by the -electrician’s board, a heavy-set stagehand was tipped -back in a chair, reading the morning paper. He didn’t -even bother to give her a glance.</p> -<p>“All right,” came Claiborne’s voice. “Any time.”</p> -<p>Peggy forced herself to relax. She drew a deep -breath and expelled every drop of air from her lungs. -Then she took a second breath and pushed open the -door.</p> -<p>It’s night, Peggy thought to herself. The room is -probably dark except for the glow of the fire. She -moved quietly, tentatively, and closed the door softly. -She stood for a moment, as if she were listening for -something, then walked quickly over to the big double -window. Very gently, she pulled back a curtain. -New York was supposed to be stretched out there -in front of her, and Peggy tried to remember what -it was like to see the lights of New York in real life. -She conjured them up and sighed. The lights of New -York....</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_64">64</div> -<p>“‘Why did you come in so quietly? You’re as furtive -as a lady burglar tonight. What’s wrong?’”</p> -<p>The line was totally unexpected. Of course, Peggy -knew the words would be spoken, but they still came -as a surprise. She turned in genuine astonishment. -“‘Oh!’” she exclaimed. “‘I didn’t know anybody was -here.’”</p> -<p>“‘I’ll go if you like.’”</p> -<p>Peggy moved down to the wing chair, trying to -envision an old man sitting there. A kind old man -with a strong, salty sense of humor, whom she didn’t -know too well.</p> -<p>“‘Oh, no! Please don’t,’” Peggy read. There was -real conviction in her voice. “‘There’s—there’s something -I want to talk to you about.’”</p> -<p>Suddenly Peggy knew how the girl in the play -would feel. She would be a little afraid of her grandfather, -even though she recognized all his good qualities. -The girl would be unsure of how to start the -conversation.</p> -<p>Mr. Fox, playing the grandfather, read the encouraging -lines. Peggy answered him. The pieces -were beginning to fall into place now. She read with -mounting conviction and assurance until, abruptly, -a voice shattered the illusion.</p> -<p>“Thank you, Miss Lane. We’ll be in touch with -you.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_65">65</div> -<p>It couldn’t be over yet! Peggy stopped in stunned -amazement. Just when it was going so well! She felt -the script being taken out of her hand and realized -that she had been dismissed. Fighting back the tears, -Peggy moved over to the right of the stage and ran -off into the wings.</p> -<p>She was grateful there was no one backstage to -see her. She turned the corner that led to the stage -entrance and thudded against somebody coming into -the theater.</p> -<p>Peggy blinked the tears away and looked up to -see Katherine Nelson standing in front of her. Katherine -Nelson opened her mouth to speak, but Peggy -didn’t stop to listen.</p> -<p>Murmuring apologies under her breath, she -brushed past the star and threw open the heavy -door. All she wanted was to get out of the theater -and as far away from <i>Innocent Laughter</i> as she could. -She barely heard the steel door clang shut behind -her as she walked quickly down the street—away -from Broadway.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_66">66</div> -<h2 id="c6"><span class="h2line1">VI</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">“Why Don’t You Quit?”</span></h2> -<p>“Peggy, honey, it just can’t be as bad as all that!”</p> -<p>“You don’t know!” Peggy was in her dressing -gown, stretched across her bed, still thinking about -the audition that morning. “I hardly got out five -lines before he stopped me. Honestly, I’ve never -been so embarrassed in my life.”</p> -<p>“You can’t tell,” Amy said. “Maybe he didn’t have -to hear any more.”</p> -<p>“I’m sure he didn’t,” Peggy replied bitterly. “I’m -sure he heard all he wanted. More than he wanted.” -She got up and walked distractedly over to the window. -“Whatever made me think I could be an actress! -I ought to have my head examined!”</p> -<p>“You <i>are</i> an actress,” Amy said stoutly. “And a -darned good one.”</p> -<p>Peggy whirled on her angrily. “You wouldn’t say -that if you could have heard me. I must have sounded -like an old crow!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_67">67</div> -<p>Amy shook her head. “You certainly are taking this -hard,” she said. “I can’t do a thing to cheer you up.”</p> -<p>“Oh, Amy.” Peggy went over to her roommate and -took her by the hand. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. -It’s just that—that—oh, I don’t know.”</p> -<p>“I wish I’d seen you,” Amy declared.</p> -<p>Peggy looked at her in surprise. “Why? What -could you have done?”</p> -<p>“I just think you’re exaggerating, that’s all. But I -can’t convince you because I wasn’t there.”</p> -<p>“Well, thanks anyway, but I’m not.” Peggy sat -down and closed her eyes.</p> -<p>“You’d better get dressed,” Amy said after a pause.</p> -<p>Peggy opened one eye. “What for?”</p> -<p>“You have to eat, don’t you? I bet you didn’t have -any lunch.”</p> -<p>“I had a bite,” Peggy said listlessly. “But I’m not -hungry right now. You go on.”</p> -<p>“Not without you.”</p> -<p>“No, please go.” Peggy sat up and looked at Amy -earnestly. “Really, I wouldn’t mind being alone for -a little while. I’ve got some thinking to do.”</p> -<p>“Sometimes two heads are better than one.”</p> -<p>Peggy shook her head doubtfully. “Not on this -problem,” she said. “I’ve got to decide whether to -stay in New York.”</p> -<p>Amy jumped to her feet. “Peggy!” she cried. “That’s -the most outrageous thing I’ve ever heard!”</p> -<p>“But what’s the sense in beating my brains out?”</p> -<p>“Oh, Peggy!” It was Amy’s turn to look distracted. -“What would you do? Where would you go?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_68">68</div> -<p>“Do?” Peggy said vacantly. “I guess I’d go back -home and do what Dad wanted me to do all along. -Be a schoolteacher.”</p> -<p>“You wouldn’t be happy,” Amy said gently.</p> -<p>“No,” Peggy admitted. “I suppose I wouldn’t. But -it would be better than this.”</p> -<p>Amy crossed the room with firm strides and sat -down on the bed beside Peggy. Her usually cheerful -face was set in a serious line. “Now you listen to me, -Peggy Lane,” she said severely. “I don’t know how -you read today and I don’t care. The important thing -is that this was your very first audition for an important -play. Of course, you were nervous. Who -wouldn’t be? Maybe you didn’t do as well as you -thought you could, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. -Two nights ago, I was the one who wanted to quit, -and remember what you said to me then. You told -me to face up to what happened and not let it get -me down. And now here you’re doing the very thing -you warned me against.”</p> -<p>“Yes, but Amy,” Peggy said, “tell me something, -frankly.”</p> -<p>“What is it?”</p> -<p>Peggy paused to choose her words with care. “Supposing—just -suppose now, you discovered you didn’t -have any talent—”</p> -<p>Amy tossed her head angrily. “Oh, Peggy!” she -cried reproachfully.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_69">69</div> -<p>“Now don’t interrupt,” Peggy said. “Just let me -finish and answer my question. If you found out you -didn’t have any talent as an actress, would you still -try to break into the theater? Or would you give it -up, much as you loved it?”</p> -<p>Amy stared at her thoughtfully. “I don’t know, -Peggy,” she said. “I honestly don’t know. What made -you think of that?”</p> -<p>“I saw a girl today,” Peggy said. “She read at the -audition. Craig Claiborne stopped her before she -could say three words—”</p> -<p>“There, you see!” Amy interrupted triumphantly. -“You did better than that!”</p> -<p>Peggy smiled wanly. “Yes, but not much. Anyway, -the point I’m trying to make is that Claiborne was -right in stopping her. She was no good at all.” She -tucked her legs underneath her and leaned forward. -“Now here’s a girl,” Peggy went on, “who obviously -thinks she’s got ability. But actually she doesn’t. Isn’t -she just deluding herself by going on?”</p> -<p>Amy shrugged. “You never know. She might get -better.”</p> -<p>Peggy shook her head emphatically. “Not a chance -in the world. You can tell about some people. And, -in a strange sort of way, I think she knew it, too. You -should have seen her face when Claiborne told her -she could go. It was as if she had heard the same -thing so many times.”</p> -<p>“Well, how does all this apply to you?” Amy asked.</p> -<p>“I’m getting to that. How many girls want to be -actresses, do you think?”</p> -<p>Amy thought for a moment. “Thousands, I guess.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_70">70</div> -<p>“And a lot of them have some talent,” Peggy continued -eagerly. “They take part in school plays and -church pageants and all that sort of thing. Everybody -tells them how good they are, and pretty soon -they begin to believe them. But Amy! What a difference -between being the best actress in your home -town and competing in New York!”</p> -<p>“Don’t I know it!” Amy sighed.</p> -<p>“Well, then,” Peggy said, “supposing I’m one of -those girls—” She held up her hand. “Now don’t -interrupt again,” she warned. “One of those girls who -has a certain amount of ability, but not enough to -make the grade in the professional theater. In that -case, I think I owe it to myself to go back home. -Let me act if I want to, but in the local little theater -group—not as a starving outsider in New York. -Right?”</p> -<p>“I guess so,” Amy agreed quietly. “But only if -you’re convinced you don’t have the talent.”</p> -<p>“And that’s what I have to figure out,” Peggy said. -“I’m just not sure.”</p> -<p>Further discussion was interrupted by a soft knock.</p> -<p>“Come in,” the girls chorused. The door swung -open to reveal May Berriman standing in the hall -with a tray in her hands.</p> -<p>“Room service,” she announced as she shouldered -her way inside. “Would you mind clearing off that -dresser so I can put down the tray?”</p> -<p>“May!” Peggy cried. “What’s all this for?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_71">71</div> -<p>“Custom of the house,” May replied loftily as she -set down her tray. “We do it whenever a girl has her -first big audition. We figure that she’s too exhausted -to go out and eat afterward.”</p> -<p>“I don’t believe it,” Peggy said.</p> -<p>“Well, you’re right,” May replied dryly. “But I -heard you had a fit of the blues, and I thought this -might help. How do you feel?”</p> -<p>“She feels terrible,” Amy answered. “She’s the -original Calamity Jane.”</p> -<p>“Uh huh.” May nodded. “Feeling sorry for yourself, -eh? Here, try some of this soup.” She looked -at Peggy sharply. “What’s the matter? Did you walk -out on the stage with two left feet?”</p> -<p>Peggy smiled briefly. “That’s just about it. I did -a dreadful job.”</p> -<p>May put a plate of soup on Peggy’s lap. “Who said -so?” she demanded brusquely.</p> -<p>“Nobody had to tell me,” Peggy said. “I was there. -He stopped me after five lines.”</p> -<p>May whistled admiringly. “Five lines! Say, that’s -pretty good. I remember my first audition—they -didn’t even let me take a deep breath.”</p> -<p>“Come on!”</p> -<p>“I’m not joking. Tell me, were your legs shaking?”</p> -<p>Peggy laughed. “I didn’t think I could make it to -the stage.”</p> -<p>“I know the feeling. It’s like trying to walk across -a plate of Jello. Well,” May said cheerfully, “you’ve -got all the right symptoms. You should recover in a -day or two.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_72">72</div> -<p>“In a day or two she might be gone,” Amy blurted -out.</p> -<p>“What?” May turned to Amy in blank amazement. -“What do you mean?”</p> -<p>“She’s thinking of going back home,” Amy said. -“She doesn’t think she’s got enough talent.”</p> -<p>May’s expression hardened as she stared at Peggy. -“Well!” she said at last. “Maybe she’s right.”</p> -<p>“May!” came Amy’s shocked voice.</p> -<p>“I mean it,” May said coldly. “There’s no room for -anyone in the theater without confidence.” She -stalked over to the dresser and began taking dishes -off the tray. Amy and Peggy looked at each other -in surprise.</p> -<p>Amy was the first to break the silence. “But, May,” -she faltered, “couldn’t you—I mean, don’t you -think—”</p> -<p>“That she should stay?” May shook her head disdainfully. -“Not if <i>she</i> doesn’t think so.” The older -woman turned and faced the two girls. “Look here, -you two. Whenever an actor or actress gets up on a -stage in front of thousands of people, he’s simply -got to have confidence in himself. He’s got to think -that he’s the only person in the world who can play -the part. If he didn’t”—May threw up her hands—“he’d -have no business being in the theater.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_73">73</div> -<p>May walked over to Amy’s bed and sat down. -“That doesn’t mean you have to be vain and egotistical. -Somebody like Katherine Nelson, for example. -She thinks the sun rises and sets for her own -personal enjoyment. Personally, I think her acting -suffers because of her attitude, and certainly she’s -not a very attractive human being. No, what I’m -talking about is something quite different. It’s a -quiet pride in your own craft and ability. That’s the -quality you need.”</p> -<p>May fixed Peggy with a steady stare. “I know -what’s wrong with you, young lady. You just want -somebody to tell you how good you are. Well, that’s -not surprising. We all need approval. But in the -theater, we don’t always get it when we want it, and -that means we’ve got to be tough enough to keep -on going no matter what people say. I didn’t say -hard, I said tough. There’s a big difference. Peggy, -look at me.”</p> -<p>The young girl raised her eyes. “I think you’re a -good actress. I can’t tell you how good, because that -depends on you. It depends on how hard you’re willing -to work and how fast you learn. But you have -the basic equipment to make it.”</p> -<p>May raised a finger to emphasize her point. “Even -so, that’s still not enough. You have to want to do it -and you have to have a deep faith that you can do it. -Tell me, Peggy, do you think you could play the -part of the daughter in <i>Innocent Laughter</i> if you -had to? Tell me honestly now.”</p> -<p>Peggy nodded briefly. “Yes,” she said with quiet -conviction. “I know I could.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_74">74</div> -<p>May sighed and stood up. “Then why do you want -to leave New York? <i>Innocent Laughter</i> isn’t the only -play you’re ever going to audition for. And the next -time you’ll do better. Let’s have a little backbone, -Peggy.”</p> -<p>Peggy sat staring at May for a moment, then flung -herself into the older woman’s arms. “Oh, May!” she -said. “You’re right. I was being—I don’t know what.”</p> -<p>“There, there,” May said soothingly, stroking the -girl’s hair. “You’re all right, Peggy. You just needed -somebody to talk tough.” She put her hands on -Peggy’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “No -more of this talk about going home. Promise?”</p> -<p>Peggy nodded. “I promise,” she said with a laugh.</p> -<p>“Good girl. Go ahead and have a cry if you want. -It’ll do you good. But don’t forget to eat some supper.” -She started to pat Peggy’s hand, but stopped -as the telephone buzzer squawked unexpectedly.</p> -<p>“Oh, oh,” May said. “Better not have that cry -after all. Somebody wants to talk to you.”</p> -<p>“I’ll go,” Amy cried, going toward the door. They -could hear her footsteps echoing down the hallway. -The next instant, it seemed, they heard them running -back to the room at what sounded like full -speed.</p> -<p>Amy appeared at the doorway, her face flushed -with excitement and her eyes bright. “Peggy!” she -almost screamed. “You got it! You got it!”</p> -<p>For a moment it didn’t register. “Got what?” -Peggy stammered.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_75">75</div> -<p>“The part!” Amy danced into the room and made -a grab for Peggy. “Hurry up! It’s Peter Grey! He’s -downstairs in the living room with Pam Mundy. He -told me to tell you that they’re ready to offer you the -part of general understudy in <i>Innocent Laughter</i>. He -wants to talk to you about it right now. Oh, Peggy, -Peggy! All that worrying for nothing. You got the -part!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_76">76</div> -<h2 id="c7"><span class="h2line1">VII</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">Peggy Turns Detective</span></h2> -<p>Peggy found Pam Mundy and Peter Grey sitting on -one of the sofas in the big living room of the Gramercy -Arms. When Peggy walked through the door, -Peter jumped up and held out his hand.</p> -<p>“Congratulations,” he said. “We thought we’d come -around and tell you the good news personally.”</p> -<p>Peggy took the offered hand and smiled. “I still -don’t believe it,” she said. “You’re sure there’s no -mistake?”</p> -<p>“Absolutely certain.”</p> -<p>Peggy smiled a second time and went over to sit -beside Pam. “And you’re the one who started it all,” -she said.</p> -<p>Pam, who was a petite brunette with a quick, -vivacious manner, leaned her head back against the -sofa and laughed. “That,” she said, “was what they -call a stroke of genius.”</p> -<p>“Well, whatever it was, I’ve got you to thank.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_77">77</div> -<p>Pam sat up suddenly. “Oh, no,” she said. “It’s the -other way around. I’m the one who should thank -you.”</p> -<p>Peggy looked at her in surprise. “Whatever do you -mean?”</p> -<p>“It’s simple,” Pam said seriously. “Oscar Stalkey -was wondering whom to get for the understudy, and -I’m the fair-haired girl who came up with the right -name. Is he ever impressed!”</p> -<p>Peter held up his right hand. “That’s the truth,” -he assured Peggy. “He thinks Pam’s the greatest casting -director in New York.”</p> -<p>“Well, not quite,” Pam said with a grin. “But at -least he doesn’t think I’m a silly girl butting in where -I don’t have any business to be.”</p> -<p>She turned to Peggy with a sudden movement of -annoyance. “Honestly, Peggy, you wouldn’t believe -the cold shoulders I’ve been given! I used to think -it was hard for a girl to get established as an actress, -but believe me, that’s a cinch compared to finding -a good job in production. Producers,” she continued, -warming up to her topic, “are all alike. In the first -place, they’re nearly all men—”</p> -<p>“And that’s the way they want to keep it,” Peter -finished with a smile.</p> -<p>“That’s right.” Pam nodded vigorously. “That’s -exactly the trouble.” She turned and appealed to -Peggy. “What’s the matter with a woman being a -producer?” she demanded.</p> -<p>“Nothing. There are some very successful women -producers.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_78">78</div> -<p>Pam brushed this aside. “They’re exceptions—”</p> -<p>“Whoa! Slow down a bit,” Peter said good-naturedly. -“This is her favorite topic,” he told Peggy. -“The poor girl’s always telling us what a hard life -she leads.”</p> -<p>Pam subsided with a sheepish grin. “I guess you’re -right. But it still makes me mad to think—”</p> -<p>“Watch it,” Peter warned.</p> -<p>Pam stuck her tongue out at him and they both -laughed. “The reason I can give orders to the terrible-tempered -Miss Mundy,” Peter said, “is that I am -now officially her boss.”</p> -<p>“I thought you worked for Mr. Stalkey,” Peggy -said.</p> -<p>“We both work for Oscar Stalkey,” Peter explained, -“but Pam works for me. You see, I’ve been made company -manager for the first road production of <i>Innocent -Laughter</i>, and Pam was just made my assistant.”</p> -<p>“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Peggy cried excitedly. -“That means we’ll be going on tour together.”</p> -<p>“That’s right,” Peter answered. “And now, if my -assistant will kindly shut up for five minutes, maybe -we can talk about the road tour for a change. After -all, that’s why we’re here.” He leaned forward. “First -of all, are there any questions?”</p> -<p>“Hundreds,” Peggy assured him. “So many I -don’t know which one to ask first. But how about this -one? Why did I get the part?”</p> -<p>Peter looked surprised. “That’s easy. You read better -than anyone else.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_79">79</div> -<p>Peggy shook her head in amazement. “I was so -scared, my knees were all wobbly. I thought I was -terrible.”</p> -<p>Peter grinned. “You sure were scared,” he conceded. -“We could practically hear your teeth chattering. -But you had the quality we were looking for.”</p> -<p>“But what about the other girls?” Peggy said. “The -ones that Craig Claiborne worked with for a while.”</p> -<p>“They were almost right. Claiborne thought with a -little help he could make them give a performance. -But then you came along and you were perfect. And -that was that!”</p> -<p>“I still can’t understand it,” Peggy marveled. “He -cut me off so soon.”</p> -<p>“He didn’t have to hear any more.”</p> -<p>Peggy smiled. “That’s just what Amy said.”</p> -<p>“Well, she was right.” Peter reached into his coat -pocket and pulled out a sheaf of mimeographed -papers. “Here,” he said, spreading them out over the -coffee table, “this is an outline of the tour as far as we -know it.”</p> -<p>Peggy leaned over the table and watched Peter -check off each stopping place. “We open in Baltimore -on the twelfth of next month. That’s just five weeks -away. We move south to Washington, swing west for -a series of performances through Virginia, West Virginia, -Kentucky, up to Ohio, over to Indiana, and -eventually to Chicago. It’s a rugged tour. A lot of one-night -stands in theaters that haven’t been properly -used since the days of vaudeville. Oscar Stalkey believes -in bringing live theater to all parts of the country—even -if it kills all his actors.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_80">80</div> -<p>“How long will we be in Chicago?” Peggy asked.</p> -<p>“As long as they’ll keep us,” Peter answered with -a wry smile. “Actually, we’re the Chicago company of -<i>Innocent Laughter</i>, but we’re taking the long way -around before we get there.”</p> -<p>“Is there another road company?”</p> -<p>“Oh, yes. It hasn’t been formed yet, though. They’ll -play the Southwest and California and probably settle -in Los Angeles.”</p> -<p>“How do we travel?”</p> -<p>Peter and Pam exchanged glances and grinned. -“You name it,” Peter said. “We’ll be using every -means of transportation known to man except the ox-cart.”</p> -<p>“Don’t be too sure.” Pam laughed. “We may use -that yet.”</p> -<p>“True,” Peter admitted. “Bus, hired car, trains, of -course, planes. Everything you can think of.”</p> -<p>“And hotel space?”</p> -<p>“That’s one of our headaches,” Pam said. “You see, -moving a dozen people and three tons of theatrical -scenery around the country on a split-second schedule -is quite a chore.”</p> -<p>“We’re still worrying about the scenery,” Peter said. -“When we get that settled, we’ll start to think about -the people.”</p> -<p>“Oh, I wasn’t complaining,” Peggy said hastily. -“I’m sure everything will be all right.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_81">81</div> -<p>“I’m glad you think so,” Peter said dryly. “I wish -everyone was as easy to please.”</p> -<p>“Why? Whom do you mean?”</p> -<p>“None other than that great lady of the theater, -Katherine Nelson.”</p> -<p>Peggy felt a funny sinking sensation in her stomach. -“Is she in the cast?”</p> -<p>Peter nodded grimly. “Oh, yes. She’s the mother.”</p> -<p>“The romantic lead!”</p> -<p>“Yep.” Peter grinned at her. “Don’t look so surprised. -What did you expect her to play? The grandmother?”</p> -<p>Peggy shook her head. “I’ve only seen that woman -twice, but I don’t think she liked me.”</p> -<p>“Bingo!” Peter cried. “You’re so right. What did -you do to her?”</p> -<p>“Nothing. Really, I didn’t do a thing. Why?”</p> -<p>“She saw you at the theater this morning and came -storming up to Oscar Stalkey. She wanted to know if -you were being considered for the understudy.”</p> -<p>“What did he say?”</p> -<p>“What could he say? Yes, naturally. She bounced -around the theater like an old bag of bones, she was -so angry. I wonder why she’s taken such a dislike to -you.”</p> -<p>“I don’t know,” Peggy said. “I’ll just have to stay -out of her way as much as I can.”</p> -<p>“That’s not going to be easy,” Pam said. “Don’t forget, -you’re playing a small part in the first act. You’re -playing the schoolgirl friend of the daughter.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_82">82</div> -<p>“True,” Peggy said. “Does she know about it?”</p> -<p>“Not yet.”</p> -<p>“I bet there’ll be an explosion.”</p> -<p>“Don’t worry about it,” Peter counseled. “Oscar -Stalkey can handle her pretty well. He doesn’t let her -get away with too much.”</p> -<p>“What was that fight about in the office the other -day?” Peggy asked. “Or shouldn’t I ask?”</p> -<p>Peter shrugged carelessly. “No big secret. She’d -just finished explaining to Stalkey that she should -play the lead in the Broadway production and not -out in the sticks, as she put it.”</p> -<p>“Mr. Stalkey put her in her place soon enough,” -Pam added with evident satisfaction.</p> -<p>“And that’s why she was screaming,” Peter added. -“She’s got to have her own way or she throws a temper -tantrum. Just like a child. I sometimes wonder -what ails that woman.”</p> -<p>Pam looked at him sharply. “Don’t be dumb, Peter. -She simply can’t face the fact that she’s not the romantic -star she used to be.”</p> -<p>“Well, I wish she’d act her age,” Peter said moodily. -“It’d be a lot easier all around. Let’s change the subject. -Any more questions, Peggy?”</p> -<p>“One or two. Who’s the rest of the cast?”</p> -<p>“Let’s see now. The grandmother—a wonderful -part—is Emily Burckhardt. The daughter is Marcy -Hubbard. Do you know Marcy? She’s about your age, -I guess. A little older.”</p> -<p>Peggy shook her head. “No, but I’ve heard of her.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_83">83</div> -<p>“She’s nice. You’ll like her.”</p> -<p>“What about the grandfather?”</p> -<p>“Now that,” Peter said, “is a ticklish question.” He -pushed a paper across the table to Peggy. “You’d better -hang on to that. It’s the first of many to come. Before -we start on tour, you’ll have mimeographed -sheets telling everything you’ll want to know—times -of departures and arrivals, accommodations assigned -to you, absolutely everything. That’s my headache.”</p> -<p>“And mine,” Pam said.</p> -<p>“Right,” Peter acknowledged with a grin. “But to -get back to your question about the grandfather. You -heard our conversation in the office?”</p> -<p>“You mean when you suggested Tom Agate?”</p> -<p>“That’s right.”</p> -<p>“Exactly who is Tom Agate? I think I know the -name, and I remember your saying he was a famous -performer back in the days of vaudeville. But I’m -afraid I’m still not clear about—”</p> -<p>“That’s not surprising,” Peter interrupted. “Tom -Agate retired from the stage fifteen years ago.”</p> -<p>“Why did he retire?”</p> -<p>“Nobody knows.”</p> -<p>“Maybe he couldn’t get a job any more.”</p> -<p>“Tom Agate!” Peter said incredulously. “Don’t you -believe it! Don’t forget, that was just when television -was starting. They were using a lot of old-time vaudeville -performers then, and Tom could have had any -number of jobs. I’ve spoken to several producers who -wanted him, but they couldn’t find him.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_84">84</div> -<p>“What do you mean—couldn’t find him?”</p> -<p>“Exactly that. He’d disappeared. Vanished.”</p> -<p>“Do you know where he is now?”</p> -<p>Peter paused and sat back in his chair. “No,” he -said slowly. “I don’t. But I think there’s a chance of -tracing him.”</p> -<p>“How?”</p> -<p>“I ran into somebody the other day who says he’s -positive that Tom is still in New York. If he is, we’re -going to find him.”</p> -<p>“Remember,” Pam pointed out, “you’ve only got -two days.”</p> -<p>“I know, and that’s the trouble.”</p> -<p>“Where are you going to look first?” Peggy asked.</p> -<p>“I know a man, a friend of my father’s,” Peter said, -“who’s been with the drama department of the -<i>Chronicle</i> for the last forty years. He knows more -about the history of the American theater than anyone -I’ve ever met.” He looked straight at Peggy. “I -thought we’d go down tomorrow and talk to him.”</p> -<p>“We?” Peggy said in surprise.</p> -<p>Peter nodded. “I was hoping you’d be willing to -help.”</p> -<p>“Well, sure,” Peggy said, “but how—”</p> -<p>“You see,” Peter went on excitedly, “I can’t get -away during the day, and neither can Pam. There’s -just not enough time before the tour. We both have -to stick pretty close to the office. But I thought that -maybe you—” He trailed off and looked at Peggy -hopefully.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_85">85</div> -<p>“Could act as the bloodhound?” Peggy finished.</p> -<p>“That’s it. Will you?”</p> -<p>“I don’t even know what he looks like.”</p> -<p>Peter brushed this aside. “That’s no problem. We -can go down to the newspaper office first thing tomorrow -morning and talk to my friend. His name, by the -way, is Johnny Dwyer. Johnny has a room full of old -clippings and photographs, and I bet he can give us -a lead on Tom. Then you can follow it up and let me -know tomorrow evening. How about it?”</p> -<p>Peggy smiled. “Well, I once discovered a hidden -theater. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to find a hidden -actor.”</p> -<p>Peter bounced to his feet with a broad smile. “Good -girl!” he said. “Can you meet me on the fourth floor -of the <i>Chronicle</i> building at nine o’clock tomorrow -morning?”</p> -<p>“I’ll be there,” Peggy said.</p> -<p>“Good.” Peter gathered his papers and stuffed them -in his pocket. “We’ll have your contract prepared -tomorrow, and when I meet you I’ll give you a copy, -and you can look it over. Then, if everything’s satisfactory, -you can sign it and deliver it back to us. -Okay?”</p> -<p>Peggy sighed. “Sounds wonderful to me.”</p> -<p>“Sounds pretty good to us, too,” Peter replied. “I -think we’re signing on a first-class actress.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_86">86</div> -<h2 id="c8"><span class="h2line1">VIII</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">The Search</span></h2> -<p>“Tom Agate? Sure, what can I tell you?”</p> -<p>Johnny Dwyer settled back in his chair and waved -a hand invitingly at a pair of battered office chairs. -Peggy sat down in one of them and looked at the -figure in front of her with interest. Johnny Dwyer was -a small, birdlike man with a cheerful, pink face, snow-white -hair and the bushiest eyebrows Peggy had ever -seen. At the moment, he was perched in front of an -old-fashioned rolltop desk in a musty corner of the -big metropolitan newspaper office, his coat off and -the sleeves of his shirt held up by a pair of elastic armbands. -Outside of actors in costume and old photographs, -Peggy had never seen anyone wear armbands. -But Johnny Dwyer did, and it gave him the appearance -of someone out of a turn-of-the-century tintype. -Despite his age—and Peggy guessed that he was over -seventy—Johnny Dwyer moved with a quick, catlike -grace. But when he walked, it was with the help of -a cane.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_87">87</div> -<p>On the way in to his office that morning, Peter had -told Peggy a little about Johnny Dwyer. Johnny had -been a gay blade in his younger days, a rising popular -star in the New York music halls. But a tragic horseback -accident had broken his leg in three places and -cut short his career as a song-and-dance man.</p> -<p>The publisher of the <i>Chronicle</i>, then a new and -struggling newspaper in New York, liked Johnny, felt -sorry for him, and offered him a job keeping records -for the drama department. It turned out to be a satisfactory -arrangement for both sides. Johnny moved in -and stayed.</p> -<p>For nearly half a century he watched the American -theater parade through his bulging scrapbook -and file cabinets. His memory was phenomenal and -his list of acquaintances was as wide as the theater -itself. In his own time, Johnny Dwyer had become -sort of a legend, a living museum whose memory -was a storehouse of theatrical lore. If anyone needed -any information on the theater, they usually tried the -public library first and then, if they couldn’t find it -there, they came to Johnny. Sometimes, if they knew -Johnny well, they didn’t even bother with the library. -According to Peter, if anybody in New York knew -where Tom Agate was, it would be Johnny Dwyer.</p> -<p>“Tom used to be a good friend of mine,” Johnny -said, leaning back comfortably. “Many’s the night -we’ve sat around and swapped stories.”</p> -<p>“Used to?” Peter asked in a troubled voice. “Is he -dead?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_88">88</div> -<p>Johnny looked at Peter shrewdly. “Some people -think so.”</p> -<p>“Do you?” Peter obviously didn’t know what to -make of this strange reply.</p> -<p>Johnny stared up at the ceiling for a moment before -answering. “Look here, young fellow,” he said -at last. “Tom Agate retired a long time ago.”</p> -<p>“I know that,” Peter said. “But we want to find -him.”</p> -<p>Johnny Dwyer pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Has -it occurred to you that he doesn’t want to be found?”</p> -<p>“Oh, come on now, Johnny,” Peter said in a pleading -voice. “You know a lot more than you’re telling us. -How about a break? We don’t want to bite the man. -We just want to offer him a job.”</p> -<p>Johnny seemed startled. “A job? But he’s retired!”</p> -<p>“He’ll come out of retirement for this part,” Peter -said confidently.</p> -<p>“Oh, it’s a play?”</p> -<p>Peter nodded. “A wonderful chance.”</p> -<p>Johnny shook his head and smiled. “Tom Agate’s -heard that so many times. Believe me, he won’t listen. -He’s finished with the theater.”</p> -<p>“Do you know why?” Peggy asked.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_89">89</div> -<p>“I don’t have the slightest notion,” Johnny replied -blandly. Despite his innocent expression, Peggy was -almost certain the old man was lying to Peter. “All I -know,” he went on smoothly, “is that fifteen years -ago, Tom Agate told me he was quitting the stage. -He didn’t give any reason and I didn’t ask. After all, -you don’t stick your nose into someone else’s affairs.”</p> -<p>“Have you seen Tom lately?” Peter persisted.</p> -<p>“The last time I saw Tom was”—the old man -cocked his head to one side—“oh, it must have been -four years ago.”</p> -<p>“And he’d been retired then for eleven years?”</p> -<p>Johnny smiled briefly. “If my arithmetic isn’t off, -I guess you’re right.”</p> -<p>“How was he?”</p> -<p>“Fine.” Johnny folded his hands and waited patiently -for the next question. Peggy suddenly felt herself -caught up in a mystery she didn’t understand. It -was clear to her that Johnny Dwyer was not going to -co-operate even though he had the information Peter -wanted so desperately. She waited for the next move -anxiously.</p> -<p>Peter leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting -on his knees. “Johnny,” he said with quiet sincerity, -“let me explain why we want to get in touch with Tom -Agate.” He proceeded to tell Johnny about <i>Innocent -Laughter</i> and the part reserved for Tom. “It’s a wonderful -opportunity for him,” he concluded. “And, of -course, I’m convinced that Tom would be ideal in the -part.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_90">90</div> -<p>Johnny Dwyer sat perfectly still for several seconds -after Peter had finished talking. At last he lifted himself -to his feet, picked up his cane, and walked over to -the window. Peggy noticed again how tiny and fragile -he looked. “Peter, my boy,” he said finally, “I’m glad -you feel that way about Tom. It’s nice to know that -somebody still remembers him.”</p> -<p>“I’m sure that thousands of people all over the -country remember him!” Peter interrupted excitedly.</p> -<p>Johnny smiled and nodded. “Perhaps. But Tom -had his reasons for leaving when he did, and I don’t -think anybody has the right to force him back. It’s -a decision he’s got to make.”</p> -<p>Peter got up and walked over to Johnny. “I agree -with you,” he said. “But we’re not going to force him. -All I want is a chance to talk to him. He can make up -his own mind.”</p> -<p>The two men—one old, the other young—stood -staring at each other. Johnny Dwyer looked into -Peter’s eyes as though he were trying to read his -mind, then turned away. “No,” he said. “Get somebody -else.”</p> -<p>Peter sighed and returned to his chair. “You say -you saw Tom four years ago?”</p> -<p>“Mm-hm.” Johnny gave a little birdlike bob with -his head.</p> -<p>Peter looked up abruptly. “Tell me something, -Johnny. Was he happy?” The question was sharp and -unexpected. For the first time Johnny seemed uncertain -of his answer. “Or did he miss the theater?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_91">91</div> -<p>Johnny groped his way over to his chair and sank -down. There was a troubled expression on his face. -“Yes,” he said in a very quiet voice. “He missed the -stage.” He looked over at Peggy and Peter. “You two,” -he said, “you’ve been working in the theater for how -long? Two years? Four years? Five years? Well, Tom -Agate spent thirty years of his life on stage. It was -everything he knew—and almost everything he -loved.”</p> -<p>“<i>Almost</i> everything?” The question came almost -automatically, before Peggy had a chance to think -about it. Johnny looked at her oddly. It was the first -time she had spoken during the interview.</p> -<p>“Don’t ask me any more,” he said. “Just leave Tom -alone.”</p> -<p>Peter shook his head stubbornly. “Why don’t you -help us give Tom a chance to find happiness again?”</p> -<p>“By coming back to the theater?”</p> -<p>“Yes.”</p> -<p>“He’d never do it. I told you that.”</p> -<p>“Maybe he’s changed his mind.”</p> -<p>Johnny smiled and shook his head regretfully. Suddenly -Peggy was on her feet, talking quickly and -earnestly.</p> -<p>“Mr. Dwyer,” she said, “we don’t want to pry into -Mr. Agate’s personal life. You said yourself no one -should poke his nose into someone else’s business. -Well, I agree. But at the same time you just admitted -that he was unhappy and missed the theater. You -said it was his whole life. Sometimes, Mr. Dwyer, -people need help. They need to have their eyes -opened so they can see the life they’re missing. The -life that belongs to them if only they reach out and -take it. Doesn’t Mr. Agate deserve a second chance? -I—I don’t know what happened fifteen years ago. I -don’t know why he left the stage and I wouldn’t -dream of asking him.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_92">92</div> -<p>“Then what <i>do</i> you want to ask him?”</p> -<p>“I want to ask him to come back to the life he -loves,” Peggy said simply.</p> -<p>“I tried that myself,” Johnny said. “It didn’t work.”</p> -<p>Peggy pulled a chair over beside Johnny and -looked into his face. “Sometimes,” she said gently, -“the wrong person does the asking.”</p> -<p>Johnny stared at her in surprise. “What do you -mean?”</p> -<p>Peggy was flushed and embarrassed at what she -was about to say, but she held her ground. “We’re -young,” she said as kindly as she could. “We’re -still part of the theater he misses so much. If <i>we</i> want -him back, that’s different from....” Her voice trailed -off in confusion as she anxiously watched Johnny’s reaction.</p> -<p>Johnny nodded in comprehension. “Different from -an old fellow like me doing the asking. Somebody -who’s through, himself. Is that what you mean?”</p> -<p>“Yes,” Peggy said almost in a whisper. “Except for -one thing. You’re not through. You’ve still got your -work. People need you—the newspaper needs you. -Nobody needs Tom Agate, and he probably thinks -nobody wants him.” She stood up and looked down -at him. “But we want him.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_93">93</div> -<p>Johnny passed a hand over his face and rested his -chin on the head of his cane. Slowly his head began -to nod. “You’re right,” he said at last. “By gollies, I -think you are.” He turned to Peter with an appreciative -chuckle. “You should have let her do the talking -right from the start.”</p> -<p>“Then you’ll help us?” Peggy cried eagerly.</p> -<p>Johnny got up and hobbled energetically over to -a pile of scrapbooks. “I’ll do all I can,” he said. “But -I’m afraid it’s not going to be much.”</p> -<p>“Johnny!” Peter was over beside the old man, clapping -him enthusiastically on the back.</p> -<p>“Take it easy, now,” Johnny protested. “Frankly, -I’d give a lot to see Tom Agate back on the stage. -Remember that old song of his, ‘Kathleen Aroon’?”</p> -<p>Johnny was chuckling happily now, as if he had -been relieved of a great burden of responsibility.</p> -<p>“Hold on.” Peter laughed. “He won’t be doing any -songs in <i>Innocent Laughter</i>. It’s a straight play.”</p> -<p>“What a pity,” Johnny sighed. “Did you ever hear -him sing?” he asked Peggy. “I guess not,” he said before -she could answer. “You’d be too young. But that -was his theme song. He used to sing it everywhere. -I think he included it in every show he ever played.”</p> -<p>“How does it go?” Peggy asked.</p> -<p>“Like this.” Johnny turned and faced them.</p> -<div class="verse"> -<p class="t0"><i>“Why should we parted be, Kathleen Aroon,</i></p> -<p class="t0"><i>When thy fond heart’s with me, Kathleen Aroon?</i></p> -<p class="t"><i>Come to these golden skies,</i></p> -<p class="t"><i>Bright days for us may rise,</i></p> -<p class="t0"><i>Oh! dry those tearful eyes, Kathleen Aroon.”</i></p> -</div> -<div class="pb" id="Page_94">94</div> -<p>Even though Johnny sang with the thin voice of an -old man, Peggy found herself listening to every -phrase. When he finished, she held out her hands to -him.</p> -<p>“That was beautiful,” she breathed. “I never knew -that such a simple song could be so lovely.”</p> -<p>Johnny smiled modestly. “You should have heard -Tom do it,” he said. “It always seemed to have a -special meaning for him.”</p> -<p>Beside her, Peggy could feel Peter fidgeting restlessly. -“Say, I’m sorry to break this up,” he said, “but -I’ve got to get back to the office. Can we have Tom -Agate’s address?”</p> -<p>Johnny shook his head regretfully. “That’s just the -trouble. I’m afraid he may have moved. All I’ve got -is the place where he lived four years ago.”</p> -<p>“But mightn’t he still be there?” Peter asked anxiously.</p> -<p>Johnny shrugged. “I don’t know. You can try.”</p> -<p>“Well, where is it?”</p> -<p>Johnny wrote out an address that Peggy recognized -as a place out in the suburbs beyond the city.</p> -<p>“That’s the best I can do,” Johnny said. “You can -inquire there.”</p> -<p>“Great.” Peter took the paper and handed it over -to Peggy. “That’s your job, Sherlock Holmes. Let’s -hope you find him.”</p> -<p>“Wait a minute,” Peggy said, grabbing Peter by -the arm. “I don’t even know what he looks like.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_95">95</div> -<p>“That’s easy,” Johnny said. “I’ve got a million photographs. -Let me get you one. I’ll try to get the best -likeness for you.” He disappeared down a narrow -aisle of file cases. A moment later he was back, blowing -the dust from a large glossy photo. “Here,” he -said, holding it out. “That’s just about the way he -looks today. It was taken during the war.”</p> -<p>The picture showed a rather ordinary-appearing -man. At first glance there was nothing particularly -unusual about Tom Agate. But a closer look revealed -a quality of gentle, almost melancholy, humor that -seemed to dominate his face. Peggy held it out at -arm’s length. “He looks so sad,” she said. “Somehow -I expected him to be gay.”</p> -<p>“What did you think he’d be like?” Johnny asked -quietly. “A circus clown?”</p> -<p>“No,” Peggy said. She shook her head. “I don’t -know.”</p> -<p>“Don’t be embarrassed,” Johnny said hastily. “All -great clowns are sad. Or didn’t you know that?” He -took the photograph from her, slipped it into a plain -Manila envelope and returned it. “Here you are,” he -said. “And good luck to you. I hope you find him.”</p> -<p>Peggy tucked the envelope under her arm and extended -her hand. “Thanks a lot,” she said warmly. -“We’ll let you know how we make out.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_96">96</div> -<p>Johnny walked them to the door of his office. “You -do that,” he said. “And when you find Tom Agate, -give him my regards.” He held the door Open. “Tell -him for me that he was a fool ever to have listened to -Johnny Dwyer. Tell him—tell him that his friends -are waiting for him. It’s been too long.” He smiled -and gripped their hands in farewell.</p> -<p class="tb">Paradise Avenue, just beyond New York City, in -Astoria, stretched out in a straight, treeless line of -two-family brick houses, each set back about thirty -feet from the sidewalk. In general appearance, all the -buildings were pretty much alike, although here and -there a gaily painted front porch and cottage shutters -hinted at the presence of a more imaginative homeowner.</p> -<p>The street was almost deserted. But then it was -nearly one-thirty. The men were away at their jobs -and the children at school. Peggy looked at the envelope -in her hand. The address read 3612 Paradise -Avenue. The bus driver had given her precise directions. -This should be the 3600 block. Peggy moved -slowly down the street, searching for the first house -number. There it was—3601. That meant the house -she wanted must be diagonally across the street. -Peggy trotted over, ticked off the numbers, and -stopped in front of a reddish-brown brick house. She -turned up the walk, mounted the stairs, and reached -out for the bell. As she touched it, she felt a strange -sense of excitement build up inside her. The bell -echoed hollowly. Peggy pressed it a second time.</p> -<p>“Just a minute!” came a woman’s voice.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_97">97</div> -<p>Peggy stepped back and waited. Then she saw -that the brick wasn’t brick at all, but some sort of -imitation material. All the houses on the block must -have been built the same way. It told of a lower -middle-class neighborhood that prided itself on neatness -and hoped for better times to come.</p> -<p>Suddenly, without warning, the door swung open -and Peggy was face to face with a middle-aged -woman who peered at her suspiciously. When she -saw her caller was a young girl, the woman opened -the door a little wider.</p> -<p>“Yes?” she asked.</p> -<p>Peggy put on her most pleasant smile and moved -forward. “Good afternoon,” she said. “I’m looking -for someone. A Mr. Tom Agate. Does he live here?”</p> -<p>“Agate?” The woman said. She shook her head -slowly. “Nobody by that name here.”</p> -<p>“I know he lived here four years ago,” Peggy said -hopefully. “He was an elderly gentleman.”</p> -<p>“Retired?”</p> -<p>Peggy’s heart leaped. “Yes. He was retired.”</p> -<p>The woman opened the door all the way and -motioned Peggy inside. “There <i>was</i> a retired gentleman -living with us. He rented the rear bedroom. But -his name was Anderson.”</p> -<p>Peggy reached for the photograph. “I wonder if -you’d recognize him if you saw his picture?”</p> -<p>The lady of the house nodded unhesitatingly. “Oh, -yes, I’d know him.” She squinted at the photograph, -took a closer look and blinked. “Let me get my -glasses,” she said, turning away to go into the living -room. “And shut the front door. It’s getting chilly.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_98">98</div> -<p>Peggy did as she was told and waited for the -woman’s return. The tiny front hall was spotlessly -clean and cheerily decorated with flowered prints -and a single gold-framed mirror over a mahogany -console table. Both furniture and floors were polished -to a high gloss. Peggy sensed that this was a home -where everything was dusted twice a day and where -nothing was allowed to disturb a well-established -routine.</p> -<p>“Are you a relative of Mr. Anderson’s?” The woman -was back with a pair of plain glasses perched on her -nose. Peggy saw that she was wearing soft bedroom -slippers which accounted for her silent tread.</p> -<p>“Not exactly,” Peggy admitted. She wondered how -to explain her interest. The real story would be too -complicated to tell. “I’m just a friend. Actually,” she -added hastily, “a friend of a friend. You see,” she said -with sudden inspiration, “Mr. Agate—the man I’m -looking for—has had a stroke of good fortune, and -I’ve been assigned the job of finding him.”</p> -<p>The woman stared at Peggy with new respect. “I -see,” she said solemnly. “Then you’re a private investigator?”</p> -<p>“Well, sort of,” Peggy answered.</p> -<p>The woman leaned forward. “Did he fall into an -inheritance?” she asked in a hushed voice.</p> -<p>Peggy gulped and spoke in an equally quiet voice. -“I’m afraid I can’t talk about it,” she whispered.</p> -<p>The woman nodded conspiratorially. “I quite understand, -my dear. Forgive me for asking.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_99">99</div> -<p>Peggy reassured her with a smile and held out the -photograph. The woman studied it for a moment and -slowly began to nod her head. “That’s the man,” she -said at last. “That’s Mr. Anderson. I always said he -was a real gentleman. Even though he did play the -banjo.” She said the last with just a trace of exasperation -as though playing the banjo was far too frivolous -an occupation for a reliable person.</p> -<p>“Yes,” Peggy said excitedly. “That would be Mr. -Agate.”</p> -<p>The woman shook her head sadly. “I wonder why -he changed his name?” Her expression hardened into -a severe frown of disapproval. “It doesn’t sound like -the proper thing to do. I mean, it sounds as if he -wanted to hide something. I never would have let -him stay here if I’d known about that.”</p> -<p>“I’m sure you’re very careful,” Peggy broke in. -“But—”</p> -<p>“This is a respectable house,” the woman said -primly.</p> -<p>“Oh, I can see that,” Peggy assured her. “But when -did Mr. Agate leave you? And do you know where -he went?”</p> -<p>Tom Agate’s erstwhile landlady pressed her lips together -in a thin line. “I don’t know anything about -him,” she said shortly. “You just can’t trust people -these days. Why, I was saying to Maude Benson the -other day....”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_100">100</div> -<p>Peggy realized that she was going to have to think -and talk quickly in order to get information out of the -woman. “I know how you must feel,” Peggy soothed. -She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “But Mr. -Agate’s had a very sad life.”</p> -<p>The woman stopped and stared at Peggy with fresh -interest. “Really!”</p> -<p>“Oh, yes,” Peggy said gravely. “He was orphaned -at an early age. The only person to take care of him -was a distant cousin who tried to disinherit him.”</p> -<p>The woman was clearly shocked. “No!”</p> -<p>“Yes. You see, Mr. Agate is the rightful heir to the -Agate fortune.” Peggy held her fingers up to her lips. -“Now you mustn’t breathe this to a soul.” The woman -nodded breathlessly. “But Mr. Agate is the only son -of Henry Agate. You know,” she prompted, “<i>the</i> -Agate family. One of the wealthiest in America.”</p> -<p>The woman looked at Peggy in round-eyed wonder. -“Oh, yes,” she said. “The Agates.”</p> -<p>“Of course, everybody’s heard of them,” Peggy said -in an offhanded manner. “And that’s why Mr. Agate -didn’t like to use the name.”</p> -<p>The woman brightened considerably. “Isn’t that -the most romantic thing you ever heard of!” she practically -crooned. “And to think that he was living right -in our house! Just wait until I tell Maude!”</p> -<p>“Oh, you mustn’t!” Peggy cautioned. “You promised!”</p> -<p>“That’s right, I did.” She patted Peggy on the -shoulder. “Don’t worry, my dear, you can trust me.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_101">101</div> -<p>“Well, now,” Peggy went on in a more businesslike -voice, “have you any idea where we can find Mr. -Agate?” She put a slight emphasis on the “we” in -order to give the woman a feeling that she was part -of the search.</p> -<p>The woman suddenly clapped her hands together. -“I just remembered something. When Mr. Agate left -here two years ago he told me where he was going. -It was a place way over in Baywater on the other side -of Long Island. I remember thinking it was rather -strange to go so far off, but then he said he wanted to -live near the ocean.”</p> -<p>“Did he give an address?”</p> -<p>The woman shook her head regretfully. “No, he -refused to leave any. He said there wouldn’t be any -mail. And there wasn’t.”</p> -<p>“Can’t you remember anything more than that?”</p> -<p>The woman closed her eyes. “Yes,” she said slowly. -“He let the address slip once. It was Tidewater Road, -I’m sure of that.”</p> -<p>“And the number?”</p> -<p>There was a sigh. “I can’t—wait a minute. I think -it was twenty-nine hundred something Tidewater -Road.” She opened her eyes eagerly. “Yes, I know it -was. It was the twenty-nine-hundred block.”</p> -<p>Peggy hurriedly slipped the photograph back in its -envelope. “Well, thank you very much,” she said. -“You’ve been most helpful.”</p> -<p>“I wish I could have done more for poor Mr. Agate. -He really was such a nice gentleman.”</p> -<p>“If I locate him, I’ll give him your regards,” Peggy -promised.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_102">102</div> -<p>The woman danced nervously around Peggy, obviously -reluctant to see her go. “Won’t you stay for -a cup of tea, my dear?”</p> -<p>Peggy declined as gracefully as she could. “I’m -afraid I can’t. I’m going to have to get to Baywater -this afternoon.”</p> -<p>The woman was now eager to help. “If you take -the number fourteen bus down at the end of the -block, it will get you to the Long Island Railroad Station. -I’m sorry I don’t have a timetable.”</p> -<p>“That’s perfectly all right,” Peggy said, edging toward -the door. “I’ll be able to manage. Thank you -again.” Peggy turned the handle of the front door and -stepped out on the porch.</p> -<p>As Peggy fled down the steps, she heard a muffled -“good-by” as the door slammed shut. That would -be the woman on her way to the telephone to tell -Maude Whatever-her-name-was all about the famous -Mr. Agate. Well, let her, Peggy thought to herself -with a smile. No harm in that.</p> -<p>She directed her footsteps to the bus stop at the -corner. “Tidewater Road,” she murmured to herself. -“Not much to go on, but I’m not going to give up -now.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_103">103</div> -<h2 id="c9"><span class="h2line1">IX</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">The One-Eyed Giant</span></h2> -<p>Paradise Avenue, with its imitation brick houses and -neat garden plots, might have had some pretensions, -but Tidewater Road had none. Here the houses were -built of frame, most of them in need of a new coat of -paint, many of them badly wanting repairs. Even the -streets seemed uncared for. Scraps of old newspapers -rustled in the gutters, and the pavement itself was -cracked and worn. Looking at its bleak row of buildings, -Peggy felt like catching the next train back to -the city. Tom Agate couldn’t be living here.</p> -<p>She had to remind herself that she had made a -promise as she crossed the street and approached the -first house on the block. A child’s tricycle, one wheel -twisted awkwardly out of shape, lay on its side across -the steps. Peggy picked her way gingerly around it, -crossed the porch, and put her finger on the bell. No -sound came from the house so she tried knocking.</p> -<p>“Yeah?” came a thin, querulous voice, but inside -the house nothing moved.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_104">104</div> -<p>Peggy stepped back, wondering what to do next. -“Excuse me,” she called at last. “I wonder if you could -give me some information.”</p> -<p>“We don’t want none,” answered the same voice.</p> -<p>“I’m not selling anything,” Peggy replied. “I just -want some help.”</p> -<p>There was a moment’s silence and then the shuffling -of feet. A suspicious face appeared at the door -and examined Peggy narrowly. It was an older -woman, dressed in a worn housecoat with her hair up -in pin curls.</p> -<p>“Yeah? Whatcha want?”</p> -<p>Peggy fumbled at her envelope and drew out the -photograph. “I’m trying to locate somebody,” she said. -“I understand that he lives in this neighborhood, and -I wonder if you know him?” She held out the picture -for inspection.</p> -<p>The door opened a little wider as the woman leaned -down to examine the photograph. The pin curls gave -a decisive shake.</p> -<p>“Naw. Never saw him.”</p> -<p>The next instant the door was slammed shut and -Peggy found herself alone on the porch. She made -her way carefully back down the steps and out to the -sidewalk. Finding Tom Agate was going to be much -harder than she had anticipated.</p> -<p>There was no answer at the next house. In the one -following lived a woman who spoke no English. The -trail became warmer at the third house where a -woman said she thought the face looked familiar, but -couldn’t place it. The next five houses were blanks.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_105">105</div> -<p>By now it was well after four o’clock in the afternoon. -Peggy knew she had time for only two or three -more calls before taking the train back to New York. -Peter Grey had arranged to meet her at the Broadway -Drugstore on Forty-eighth Street at eight-thirty, -giving her barely enough time to get back to the city, -bolt down some supper, and keep her appointment. -But the next three houses could give her no fresh information -and Peggy decided that she had had -enough for one day. She would return in the morning -and finish the rest of the houses on the block.</p> -<p>As she turned to retrace her footsteps to the bus -stop on the corner, her eye was caught by a bright -flash of color. Four doors down from where she stood -was a house decorated with two window boxes full -of fall flowers. Peggy wondered why she hadn’t noticed -it before. The house itself was weatherworn, -and like all the other houses on the block, in need of -a fresh coat of paint. But somehow it gave the impression -of a home that had been carefully tended. The -porch was neat, the lawn had been recently raked -of leaves, and someone had even tried to trim the -hedges. Standing in the midst of such careless neglect, -the house seemed to sparkle with life and -friendly invitation.</p> -<p>Before she realized it, Peggy was standing at the -front door, listening to a set of chimes peal softly at -her touch. The door was opened by a pleasant-looking -woman who was drying her hands on a towel. When -she saw Peggy, her face broke into a smile of welcome.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_106">106</div> -<p>“Come in,” she said. “You caught me washing some -things in the kitchen.”</p> -<p>Peggy stepped into a clean, simply furnished front -hall. “I’m sorry to interrupt you,” she said. “But I’m -trying to locate someone, and I thought maybe you -could help me.” Peggy displayed her photograph -again and waited for the reaction. But this time, instead -of a blank stare and a quick shake of the head, -she was met with an exclamation of surprise.</p> -<p>“But that’s Mr. Armour!” the woman cried in a delighted -voice.</p> -<p>“Mr. Armour?”</p> -<p>“Yes. He lived with us for over a year and a half.”</p> -<p>“You mean he’s moved?” Peggy heard the disappointment -in her own voice. Tom Agate had chosen -another name.</p> -<p>“I’m afraid he has,” the woman said. She beckoned -Peggy into the living room. “Here, won’t you come in -for a few moments? You look tired.”</p> -<p>“Well, yes, I am,” Peggy admitted. “I’ve been going -since early this morning.”</p> -<p>“Trying to find Mr. Armour?” the woman asked, -sitting down in an easy chair.</p> -<p>Peggy nodded as she took a chair near the door. -“Yes. It’s a terribly complicated story, but believe me, -it’s important that I locate him.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_107">107</div> -<p>“I’ll be happy to tell you all I know,” the woman -said. “A little less than two years ago, Mr. Armour -rang my front doorbell and asked if he could rent a -room. Well, I had never rented a room before, but it -just so happened that my son had recently left home.” -The woman smiled shyly. “He had just gotten married, -you see.”</p> -<p>Peggy smiled back and nodded.</p> -<p>“He has a little baby girl now. Lives in upstate -New York. We’ll be going to see them for Thanksgiving.” -The woman paused and laughed. “But you -don’t want to hear about that. Anyway,” she said, returning -to her story, “I told him all right and about -a week later he moved in. Well, we couldn’t have had -a nicer man in our house—not even if we had picked -him ourselves. Always cheerful he was, and very -quiet.”</p> -<p>“You say he was quiet?” Peggy interrupted. “Didn’t -he ever play the banjo?”</p> -<p>The woman beamed. “He certainly did. He used to -play it for us in the evenings. He was very good, you -know.”</p> -<p>Peggy nodded. “Yes, I know. Do you remember -any of the tunes he used to play?”</p> -<p>“Let’s see now. Well, he played all the old favorites—Stephen -Foster and ... oh, I can’t remember -what-all.”</p> -<p>“Did he ever play ‘Kathleen Aroon’?”</p> -<p>“How did you know that?” the woman cried. “That -was one he did all the time. Beautiful too. Simply -lovely.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_108">108</div> -<p>Peggy sighed. It must have been Tom Agate. She -wondered if he was still calling himself Armour. He -seemed to change his name each time he moved.</p> -<p>“What happened to him?” she asked.</p> -<p>“He left us. About three months ago.”</p> -<p>Three months! Peggy almost groaned aloud. “Have -you any idea where he went?”</p> -<p>The woman shook her head slowly. “No. He didn’t -leave a forwarding address. He said there wouldn’t -be any mail.”</p> -<p>This matched the story Peggy had heard earlier -that afternoon. “He didn’t give you any hint about -where he was going?”</p> -<p>“No. None at all.” The woman looked at Peggy -sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help you, -but I’m afraid....”</p> -<p>“Do you know why he left?”</p> -<p>The woman paused and stared down at the floor. -“I think so,” she said in a troubled voice. “It was because -he couldn’t afford to pay the rent any more. I -was perfectly willing to let him stay, but he insisted -on going. He said that he couldn’t allow himself to -accept charity. I tried to explain that his presence -gave us real pleasure and that was payment enough, -but he wouldn’t listen. One day he went out and just -never came back....” Her voice trailed off and she -shrugged helplessly.</p> -<p>“Didn’t he take his banjo with him?”</p> -<p>“Yes, he took that. But not very far.”</p> -<p>“What do you mean?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_109">109</div> -<p>“There’s a little boy in the house next door. Tommy -Stanton, his name is. Mr. Armour was very fond of -Tommy. They used to spend hours together. He even -taught Tommy how to play the banjo a little, and before -he left, he gave it to him.”</p> -<p>Peggy passed a hand across her forehead. Every -trail seemed to lead to a dead end. Tom Agate had -disappeared without a trace. Peggy finally gathered -herself together and stood up. “Thank you very -much,” she said. “I guess that just about finishes any -chance of finding my friend.”</p> -<p>“I guess so,” the woman agreed sadly. “Unless”—she -got up and put her finger against her lips—“you -want ... listen,” she whispered. “There’s -Tommy playing now.”</p> -<p>Peggy listened carefully and heard the sound of -a banjo being plucked. It seemed to be coming from -the back yard. “Maybe Tommy knows something -about him. Would you like to ask?” the woman inquired.</p> -<p>“I certainly would,” Peggy said, moving toward -the front door.</p> -<p>“Here,” cried the woman, taking her by the arm. -“Come around the back way. It’s quicker.”</p> -<p>Moving quietly, the woman led the way through -the kitchen and out the back door into the yard. The -sound of the banjo was now loud and clear. “Tommy!” -cried the woman. “Oh, Tommy! Can you come here -a minute?”</p> -<p>The music stopped and in a moment a small tousled -head appeared over a back fence. “Hello, Tommy,” -the woman said in a friendly voice. “This nice young -lady said she wanted to meet you.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_110">110</div> -<div class="img" id="pic5"> -<img src="images/p05.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="764" /> -<p class="caption"><i>A small tousled head appeared over a back fence.</i></p> -</div> -<div class="pb" id="Page_111">111</div> -<p>The face above the fence gave a scowl of annoyance -but held its position. Peggy walked over and smiled. -“How do you do, Tommy?” she said. “I like the way -you play the banjo.”</p> -<p>There was no answer to this. A pair of eyes gazed -at her steadily, and Peggy could hear the sound of -a foot impatiently kicking the other side of the fence. -She decided that flattery was going to get her nowhere -with Tommy, and abandoned it for a more -direct approach.</p> -<p>“I bet I know who taught you how to play,” she -said. “It was Mr. Armour, wasn’t it?”</p> -<p>The scuffing stopped and Peggy thought she detected -a flash of interest. She held out the picture to -the little boy. “That’s Mr. Armour, isn’t it?”</p> -<p>The boy’s eyes grew round and he nodded his head -briefly. “You know Mr. Armour?” he said in a matter-of-fact -voice.</p> -<p>“No,” Peggy admitted. “I don’t. But I want to.”</p> -<p>“Why?” Tommy demanded. “You want to learn -how to play?”</p> -<p>“I wouldn’t mind.”</p> -<p>Tommy nodded. “He can teach you. He can teach -anybody.” He eyed her moodily. “Even girls.”</p> -<p>“I bet he can,” Peggy said, wondering why all -little boys seemed to have such vast scorn where girls -were concerned. “The only trouble is,” she went on, -“I don’t know where to find him. Do you know?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_112">112</div> -<p>The kicking on the other side of the fence started -in again. Tommy lowered his eyes and stared at -Peggy’s feet. “It’s a secret,” he muttered.</p> -<p>“What is?”</p> -<p>“Where Mr. Armour went.”</p> -<p>Peggy’s heart almost missed a beat. She tried to -keep her voice calm. “Can’t you tell me?”</p> -<p>The kicking increased to a thunderous volley. -“Nope,” Tommy said abruptly.</p> -<p>“Oh, please,” Peggy begged. “I want to see him -so badly.”</p> -<p>Tommy’s lower lip stuck out as he considered -Peggy’s request. “I want to see him too,” he announced.</p> -<p>“Well, if you tell me where he is,” Peggy said, -“maybe I can get him to come back.”</p> -<p>The kicking stopped a second time as Tommy -paused to appraise this new idea. Then quite suddenly, -he disappeared. For a moment Peggy thought -he had gone back into his house, but the next instant, -a gate swung open and Tommy marched into the -yard, holding a banjo in one hand. He stopped in -front of Peggy and looked at her earnestly. “Honest?” -he said. “You really think you can get him to come see -me?”</p> -<p>“I’ll try,” Peggy promised. “I’ll try as hard as I can.”</p> -<p>Indecision was stamped all over Tommy’s face, but -in the end the desire to see his old friend won out.</p> -<p>“He’s gone far away from here,” he said in a clear -voice that left no room for doubt.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_113">113</div> -<p>“How far?”</p> -<p>“To a place where there are kings and queens and -all sorts of magic things. There’s a one-eyed giant -there who looks after everybody and sees to it that -everybody is happy. Mr. Armour told me. He said -he’d always be happy ’cause he’d be with friends. -It’s a place where everybody lives in trunks.”</p> -<p>“In trunks!” Peggy exclaimed.</p> -<p>Tommy nodded solemnly. “That’s what he said. He -told me I mustn’t miss him too much on account of he -was going to be very, very happy and safe.”</p> -<p>“Did he say where this place was?”</p> -<p>Tommy shook his head. “Just that it’s far away.”</p> -<p>Peggy and the woman looked at each other blankly. -Kings and queens who lived in trunks with a one-eyed -giant to guard them! It didn’t make <i>any</i> sense.</p> -<p>“When you find him,” Tommy was saying, “tell -him I can play lots better now, and I want him to -come and hear me.”</p> -<p>“I will,” Peggy said automatically. “I’ll tell him.”</p> -<p>“Okay,” Tommy said with a satisfied nod. “I gotta -go now.”</p> -<p>“All right.” Peggy held out her hand, but Tommy -backed resolutely away from it. He turned and ran -for the gate. “G’by,” he called.</p> -<p>“Good-by,” Peggy said. The gate swung open and -Tommy disappeared.</p> -<p>A one-eyed giant! Where on earth could Tom Agate -be living? Peggy turned thoughtfully back to the -house.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_114">114</div> -<h2 id="c10"><span class="h2line1">X</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">Tom Agate</span></h2> -<p>“Honestly, Peter, that’s what he said.”</p> -<p>Peter Grey lowered his cup into his saucer. “Kings -and queens,” he muttered incredulously.</p> -<p>“And don’t forget the one-eyed giant,” Peggy reminded -him.</p> -<p>“Don’t worry, I’m not,” Peter assured her, “but I’d -rather think about one thing at a time.”</p> -<p>Peggy and Peter were sitting in a back booth of the -Broadway Drugstore. Outside, the streets were comparatively -empty. Half an hour earlier they had been -jammed curb to curb with honking taxicabs threading -through thousands of hurrying people on their -way to an evening at the theater, a first-run movie, or -a late dinner. But by now everyone had reached his -destination. The streets off Broadway would be quiet -for another two hours. Then, as if some unseen force -had released a floodgate, the big doors to the theaters -and movie palaces would swing open, and the rush -would begin all over again.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_115">115</div> -<p>“Do you think it was all his imagination?” Peter -was asking.</p> -<p>Peggy shook her head. “I’m sure he didn’t make -it up,” she said.</p> -<p>“I don’t mean the boy,” Peter said. “I mean Tom.”</p> -<p>“Why would he do that?”</p> -<p>“To cheer up the little boy. To keep him from being -sad about his leaving.”</p> -<p>Peggy toyed with her cup of tea. “I don’t know,” -she said at last. “Maybe it all means something. -Maybe Johnny Dwyer could help us.”</p> -<p>“Yes, but not until tomorrow morning,” Peter -pointed out. “And we don’t have that much time left.” -He drummed his fingers impatiently on the table. -“We’ve got to figure it out tonight.” He pushed his -coffee cup to one side. “Let’s start at the beginning -and try to put ourselves in Tom Agate’s position. First -of all, how much do we know?”</p> -<p>“Well,” Peggy said thoughtfully, “we know that -three months ago he ran out of money and left the -house on Tidewater Road. It seems to me that there -are four possibilities.”</p> -<p>“All right. Let’s have them.”</p> -<p>“He found a job.”</p> -<p>Peter shook his head. “That’s not likely. All he -knew was the theater. And if he had gotten a job in -show business people would have heard about it.”</p> -<p>“What about some other kind of job?”</p> -<p>“What could he do? He was too old to be hired for -a regular position.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_116">116</div> -<p>“Let’s not throw out that possibility yet,” Peggy -cautioned. “He might have found something like -a night watchman or a caretaker.”</p> -<p>“Yes,” Peter admitted, “that’s true. But why did he -wait so long? Why didn’t he do it years ago before he -was completely broke?”</p> -<p>“I don’t know. Let’s put it aside for the moment -and go on to the second possibility. He went to some -member of his family.”</p> -<p>“Absolutely not,” Peter declared. “He didn’t have -any.”</p> -<p>“None at all?”</p> -<p>“Oh, yes, he once had a wife,” Peter said. “But it -didn’t work out.”</p> -<p>“Do you know where she is?”</p> -<p>“I don’t even know <i>who</i> she is. I don’t know -whether they were divorced or not. But they parted -years ago. As a matter of fact, I once heard that there -was some bitterness there, so I doubt if he’d find a -warm reception if he went back.”</p> -<p>“So returning to his family is out?”</p> -<p>“I’m afraid so. What’s your third possibility?”</p> -<p>“He might have gone to a friend.”</p> -<p>Peter considered this carefully. “Maybe,” he said at -last. “But Tom seems to be a pretty proud old codger, -the kind who wouldn’t accept charity. Besides, -Johnny Dwyer was one of his closest friends, and -even he doesn’t know where he is. What’s next?”</p> -<p>Peggy lowered her eyes. “I—I don’t like even to -think of it,” she murmured. “But maybe....”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_117">117</div> -<p>“Suicide?” Peter said incredulously. “Never! I’d bet -anything on that. Tom wouldn’t go out that way. He’s -got too much courage.”</p> -<p>“Well then, where does that leave us?”</p> -<p>Peter leaned back in the booth and signaled the -counterman for another order. “I’d rule out two of -your possibilities,” he said slowly, “leaving us with -two alternatives. Either he’s found a job or he’s gone -to live with an old friend.” Peter reached out and -made room for the two fresh cups as they were -brought to the table. The counterman collected the -empties and retreated behind the rows of soda stools.</p> -<p>“Which one do you think it is?” Peggy asked as she -stirred her tea.</p> -<p>Peter shrugged helplessly. “That’s the trouble,” he -said moodily. “I can’t believe that Tom has a job. My -original objection still stands. Why didn’t he get one -earlier? On the other hand, he just isn’t the type to -sponge off an old friend, no matter how close they -once were.”</p> -<p>“But, Peter,” Peggy said with a trace of a smile, -“you can’t eliminate everything. It’s got to be something.”</p> -<p>“I know, I know,” Peter said impatiently. “That’s -the whole trouble. And where does it all fit in with -this story of kings and queens and people living inside -trunks?” He rested his elbows on the table and -cupped his chin in his hands. “I feel like a dog that’s -trying to chase his tail. I’m going round and round, -but can’t quite catch it.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_118">118</div> -<p>“I’ve got an idea,” Peggy said suddenly. “How -about combining the two possibilities?”</p> -<p>“What do you mean?”</p> -<p>“Suppose he <i>is</i> living with an old friend and has -a job at the same time—like taking care of the friend’s -place of business at night?”</p> -<p>Peter looked interested. “Say,” he said admiringly, -“that sounds good. But what kind of business?”</p> -<p>“Something to do with—”</p> -<p>“Oh, no,” Peter groaned. “Not one-eyed giants, -please.”</p> -<p>“It’s the only thing that makes any sense,” Peggy -insisted.</p> -<p>“But what sort of business is that?” Peter complained. -“A freak show someplace?”</p> -<p>Before Peggy had a chance to reply, she heard her -name being called out and looked up to see a young -girl on her way to their table. Peter turned around -in his seat with ill-concealed annoyance. The girl -seemed to be bubbling over with good news and was -likely to stay awhile.</p> -<p>“Peggy!” cried the girl. “I’m so happy for you. I -just heard about your getting the part today. When -do you start on tour?”</p> -<p>“Not for another five weeks,” Peggy replied, sliding -over. “Won’t you sit down?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_119">119</div> -<p>The girl shook her head. “I can’t. I’ve had such an -exhausting day. But I saw you from the street and -simply had to come in and tell you how wonderful -I think it is.” She reached out and put a hand on -Peter’s shoulder as he struggled to his feet. “No, -please don’t get up.” She smiled. “I’m on my way -home.”</p> -<p>“At least let me introduce you two,” Peggy said. -“Anna, this is Peter Grey. Peter, Anna Warwick, a -friend from drama school.”</p> -<p>“How do you do,” Anna said. “You’re with Mr. -Stalkey’s office, aren’t you?” Without giving Peter a -chance to answer, she turned back to Peggy. “I don’t -think I’ve ever had such a day,” she confided. “You -know I’m in an off-Broadway company. We open in -less than two weeks.”</p> -<p>“No, I didn’t know that,” Peggy said. “Congratulations. -What’s the play?”</p> -<p>Anna shrugged her shoulders. “Heavens, I don’t -know. It’s a new play all in verse. They keep changing -the name every other day. Anyway, it’s in costume -and has a perfectly <i>huge</i> cast. And that’s where the -trouble comes in. They’re trying to save money, so -they brought us all down to this horrid little junk -shop to rummage around for costumes. I’ve been -there all day, and I’m simply dead on my feet.”</p> -<p>“What’s the name of the place?” Peggy asked without -much interest.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_120">120</div> -<p>“I’m sure you know it,” Anna said breezily. “You -must have passed it a hundred times. It’s just down -the street here. Syd Walsh’s Theatrical Costumes. -It’s way up on the top floor of the building. I can’t -tell you how stuffy and smelly, but, my dear, they <i>do</i> -have the most fabulous costumes. He pried open -some trunks that hadn’t been looked into for years, I -suppose, and came out with—well, with exquisite -materials. I can’t think where he got them all. They -must have been—”</p> -<p>“Syd Walsh!” Peter almost shouted the name. “On -West Forty-ninth Street?”</p> -<p>Anna looked at him in surprise. “Yes,” she said. -“That’s the place.”</p> -<p>Peter threw some money down on the table and -slid out of the booth. “Come on,” he said with mounting -excitement. “Come on, Peggy. Let’s go.”</p> -<p>Anna blinked at him and moved aside to give -Peggy room. “He’s closed now,” she said in a mystified -voice.</p> -<p>“I know, I know,” Peter said impatiently, grabbing -Peggy by the arm. “That’s just the right time to -go.” He leaned forward and shook Anna’s hand -warmly. “Thank you. Thank you very much. I can’t -tell you how much help you’ve been. Nice meeting -you. G’by.”</p> -<p>“Yes, but”—Anna faltered, “I haven’t done a thing.”</p> -<p>Peter patted her on the hand. “You just don’t -know.” Taking Peggy by the arm, he rushed her down -the aisle and into the revolving doors at the drugstore -entrance. As she spun out into the street, Peggy -caught a last glimpse of Anna’s face as she sat bolt -upright in the deserted booth. Her look was one of -complete bafflement.</p> -<p>Peter guided Peggy deftly through the traffic and -started up the block with long, loping strides.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_121">121</div> -<p>“Peter,” Peggy cried. “What’s going on?”</p> -<p>“It’s Syd Walsh,” Peter explained. An expression -of absolute certainty was on his face. “Syd Walsh is -another old-timer like Tom Agate and Johnny Dwyer. -But instead of being a song-and-dance man, he was -a vaudeville magician. Sydney the Great, he called -himself. He retired years ago and started a theatrical -costume and prop shop.”</p> -<p>“But what makes you think—?” Peggy asked as she -ran to keep up.</p> -<p>“Syd Walsh,” Peter said, “was known as the tallest -man in vaudeville. He was six foot five at least. And,” -Peter added significantly, “he had only one eye. He -wore a black patch for all his performances.”</p> -<p>“The one-eyed giant!” Peggy breathed.</p> -<p>“That’s it,” Peter said. “It all fits together now. The -kings and queens—Tom was talking about Syd’s -costumes.”</p> -<p>“And the trunks, too,” Peggy cried. “Memories in -trunks! Old theatrical costumes!”</p> -<p>“Right,” Peter said, as they turned the corner of -Forty-ninth Street. “Tom Agate’s got a job looking -after Syd Walsh’s costume shop at night. I’m convinced -of it.”</p> -<p>Peter pulled to a stop in the middle of the block -and scanned the darkened buildings. “It’s right -around here,” he muttered. “I remember coming here -years ago.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_122">122</div> -<p>“There it is!” cred Peggy, pointing to a plate-glass -window on the fifth floor of a dingy brownstone -building. Across the front of the glass was lettered: -<span class="sc">Syd Walsh’s Theatrical Costumes</span>. The light of a -street lamp barely caught the faded sign.</p> -<p>Peter took her by the arm. “Come on,” he said. “In -we go.”</p> -<p>The next instant they were standing in a cramped -lobby in front of the iron grillwork of an old-fashioned -elevator. Peter reached out and pushed the button. -A bell jangled down in the elevator shaft. The old -building seemed deserted.</p> -<p>“How about the stairs?” For some reason, Peggy -was whispering. Peter nodded wordlessly and turned -into a corridor behind the elevator. Through the -gloom of a single night light, Peggy could see stairs -leading upward.</p> -<p>“Take a deep breath,” Peter advised over his -shoulder. “It’s on the fifth floor.”</p> -<p>“I’m right behind you,” Peggy assured him.</p> -<p>Slowly, they made their ascent. On the second floor -they passed the bolted front door of a sporting goods -manufacturer. The third floor was occupied by a firm -that specialized in trimmings for ladies’ hats. The -night light on the fourth floor was out and Peggy -couldn’t read the name on the door.</p> -<p>“Peter,” she whispered through the darkness, -“Where are you?”</p> -<p>There was a shuffling step in front of her and a -hand reached out for hers. “Here,” came the answering -whisper. “Just one flight more.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_123">123</div> -<p>About halfway up the last flight, Peggy felt Peter -freeze. His hand tightened over hers. Catching her -breath, Peggy tried to peer through the inky gloom. -Then she heard the sound of a banjo being played. -It seemed to come from a great distance.</p> -<p>Peter advanced a few more steps, made a sharp -right turn, and stopped on a landing. In front of them -a thin slit of pale yellow light illuminated the floor. -They were now standing directly in front of the door -that led to Syd Walsh’s shop. From the other side -Peggy heard a soft voice singing the tune that had -recently become so familiar to her.</p> -<p>Moving very slowly, Peter turned the handle of the -door and opened it a crack. By crowding behind him, -Peggy could see the interior of the shop. It was a jumble -of old boxes, trunks, musty figures clothed in -period costumes. Masks of all descriptions leered -down from the walls, and in one cabinet there was -a shadowy row of wigs. The singing was clearer now -and Peter pushed in a little farther.</p> -<p>In one corner of the room, half hidden by what -Peggy assumed was a worktable, stood a white-haired -old man. One leg was planted easily on a low stool, -and cradled lovingly in his arms was a banjo. The -words of his song floated quietly through the absolute -stillness of the shop and Peggy suddenly realized that -she was in the presence of a true artist—a man who -could take a simple instrument and a familiar folk -melody and weave a magic spell capable of moving -an entire audience.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_124">124</div> -<p>The song whispered to its husky, haunting conclusion, -and the old man stood bowed over his instrument.</p> -<p>Perhaps it was Peter or maybe it was some sudden -movement of hers, but the door moved forward -another inch and, through the quiet, there suddenly -rang a sharp tinkle of a bell. The old man with the -banjo straightened up and whirled around to face -the intruders.</p> -<p>Shielding his eyes with one hand, he advanced toward -the door. “Who’s there?” he challenged. “Who -is it?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_125">125</div> -<h2 id="c11"><span class="h2line1">XI</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">A Star Comes Back</span></h2> -<p>Directly in front of her, Peggy felt Peter grow -tense, then suddenly relax as he shouldered his way -into the shop. “Mr. Agate,” he called in a reassuring -voice. “It’s all right. We don’t mean any harm.”</p> -<p>Tom Agate stared at them in amazement. Peggy -noticed that his eyes were a bright china-blue that -contrasted strongly with his fair complexion and -white hair. “How—” he began. “How did you manage...?”</p> -<p>“To find you?” Peter said. “Well, it wasn’t easy, -but this is the young lady who did the tracking -down.” He reached around and brought Peggy up -into the light.</p> -<p>Tom Agate looked at both of them in turn and -then slowly chuckled. “Excuse my manners,” he said, -sweeping some material from a bench. “But I’m not -used to visitors up here. I’d be interested to know -how you located me, Miss—”</p> -<p>“Peggy Lane,” Peggy said, holding out her hand. -“And this is Peter Grey.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_126">126</div> -<p>Tom Agate acknowledged the introductions and -sat down on a three-legged stool. “All right now,” he -said. “I didn’t think anyone in the world knew where -I was. Except Syd, of course.”</p> -<p>“We didn’t know either,” Peggy said, “until a few -minutes ago. You see, this morning I went out to -Paradise Avenue and talked to your old landlady.”</p> -<p>“Oh, yes.” Tom nodded vigorously. “But how did -you know about that?”</p> -<p>“Johnny Dwyer,” Peter said simply.</p> -<p>Tom Agate shook his head. “I thought he’d be one -man with enough sense to keep his mouth shut.”</p> -<p>“Don’t blame Johnny,” Peggy said. “He didn’t want -to say a word.”</p> -<p>“Well, what made him?”</p> -<p>“Peggy convinced him,” Peter said with a smile.</p> -<p>Tom turned his blue eyes on Peggy and nodded -slowly. “I imagine you can be pretty persuasive if -you want to be. But it’s still a long way from Paradise -Avenue to this place.”</p> -<p>“Don’t I know it,” Peggy said. “Your landlady told -me you had moved.”</p> -<p>“She didn’t know where,” Tom said.</p> -<p>“No, she didn’t,” Peggy agreed. “But she seemed -to remember something about a place called Tidewater -Road.”</p> -<p>Tom Agate shook his head ruefully. “That woman,” -he said. “I never could keep a thing from her. She -had a nose built for prying into other people’s business. -So you went out to Tidewater, eh?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_127">127</div> -<p>Peggy nodded. “I didn’t know the address so I -tried all the houses.”</p> -<p>“You were a brave girl,” Tom said with concern. -“That’s not the best part of town.”</p> -<p>“I didn’t run into any trouble,” Peggy assured him. -“Anyway, finally I came to this nice-looking house -where the woman remembered you.”</p> -<p>“Yes, that would be Mrs. Mullins,” Tom said. He -looked at Peggy sharply. “But I was using a different -name then.”</p> -<p>“I know,” Peggy replied. “Mr. Armour. That was -how she knew you.”</p> -<p>Tom Agate looked puzzled. “But how did <i>you</i> -know that name?”</p> -<p>“I didn’t,” Peggy told him. “But I had a picture of -you. Johnny Dwyer gave it to me.”</p> -<p>“And you tracked me down with that?” Tom -sounded incredulous.</p> -<p>“That’s all I had to go on.”</p> -<p>Tom Agate stared at the two young people in -front of him and slowly shook his head. “Well, you -certainly have gone to a lot of trouble,” he said at -last. “I hope it’s been worth it to you, but I can’t -imagine what you want.”</p> -<p>“We want to talk to you, Mr. Agate,” Peter said.</p> -<p>Tom Agate crossed his legs and leaned back. “All -right,” he said amiably. “Go right ahead.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_128">128</div> -<p>Peggy reached forward and touched Peter on the -arm. “Let me say it,” she said. When Peter nodded -briefly, Peggy stood up and shifted over to a chair -beside Tom. “Mr. Agate,” she said in a low, earnest -voice, “we want you back.”</p> -<p>Tom Agate looked at her out of the corner of his -eye. “Back where?” he asked sharply.</p> -<p>“In the theater.”</p> -<p>For a long moment Tom Agate sat perfectly still, -his face expressionless. Then he slowly got up and -moved away. When he turned to face them, Peggy -saw he was smiling. “Thank you, Miss Lane,” he said -gently. “Thanks for the compliment. But I’ve learned -that in this life you can’t go back.”</p> -<p>“That’s not so,” Peggy declared hotly. “You can if -you want to.”</p> -<p>The old man looked at her tolerantly. “You may -be wise for your years, my dear. But I think I know -better.”</p> -<p>Peggy held her ground. “No,” she said. “The point -is, you’ve got to <i>want</i> to come back. There’s got to be -some reason.”</p> -<p>Tom Agate shrugged. “Maybe. But you see, I don’t -think I want to.”</p> -<p>“Why not?” demanded Peggy.</p> -<p>Tom frowned slightly. “You ask too many questions.”</p> -<p>“Oh, Mr. Agate,” Peggy said, “I don’t want to pry -into your personal life. That’s what I told Johnny -Dwyer this morning. I’m sure you had a good reason -to leave the stage. But don’t you think it’s time -to reconsider?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_129">129</div> -<p>Tom returned to his stool. “All right, Miss Lane,” -he said. “It’s my turn to do some asking. Why do you -think it’s time? Why <i>should</i> I come back?”</p> -<p>Peggy accepted the challenge. “There are two reasons,” -she declared. “First of all, you’re not happy -here.” She stopped him as he started to protest. “It -won’t do you any good to deny it. You’re living in a -self-imposed exile—not because you want to, but because -you think you should. As I said before, I don’t -know the reasons, but I do know that running away -is no answer.”</p> -<p>“Running away—” said Tom.</p> -<p>Peggy nodded her head firmly. “That’s what I said. -Let me finish before you start.” Tom settled back and -nodded. “The second reason,” Peggy went on, “is -that you’re needed.”</p> -<p>“Who needs me?” Tom asked in a contemptuous -voice.</p> -<p>“I do for one,” Peggy said. “I’m just starting out in -the theater, Mr. Agate. You know so much and I -know so little. When I think of the things you could -tell me—the things you could teach me!” Peggy -paused and lowered her voice. “Let me try to explain -this way. Today—this afternoon—I met a little -boy. His name is Tommy Stanton. Actually, he was -the one who led me here.”</p> -<p>The old man started. “Tommy!” he cried delightedly. -“How is he?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_130">130</div> -<p>“He’s lonely,” Peggy said. “He misses you. You -taught him how to play the banjo and he loved you -for it. He’s been practicing every day, Mr. Agate, -and he’s much better than he was before. He told -me to tell you that.”</p> -<p>“Tommy said that?”</p> -<p>“Yes. And he said another thing. He said that he -wanted you to come back because he wanted to play -for you. He’s proud of what he’s learned, but he -needs more help. Your help.” Peggy reached out and -took one of Tom Agate’s hands in hers. “In a way, -we’re like Tommy Stanton. We need you and we -want you.”</p> -<p>The old man sat silently, making no effort to remove -his hand. “I can’t come back with the same -old routines,” he said. “People are tired of them. -They’ve heard them all a thousand times. There’s -no point in returning with the old familiar bag of -tricks.”</p> -<p>“But you don’t have to,” Peggy cried. “There are -all sorts of new things for you to do.”</p> -<p>“What, for instance?”</p> -<p>“A play. You’ve never acted in a straight play before. -Think of it! Tom Agate in a play!”</p> -<p>Tom smiled wanly. “You’re very good to say all -this, but I haven’t noticed anybody beating down -the doors to ask me.”</p> -<p>“That’s because no one has had the imagination -before. But Peter has.”</p> -<p>“Peter?”</p> -<p>“Yes, Peter Grey here. He works in Oscar Stalkey’s -office.”</p> -<p>A light seemed to flicker in the old man’s eyes.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_131">131</div> -<p>“Oscar Stalkey,” he said with a smile. “How is the -old boy? Still as enthusiastic as ever?”</p> -<p>“Just the same, Mr. Agate,” Peter answered. “And -he’s got a play for you.”</p> -<p>Tom sat up. “Did <i>he</i> say that?”</p> -<p>Peggy nodded. “Peter suggested you, and Mr. -Stalkey was wild over the idea.”</p> -<p>“What’s the play?”</p> -<p>“<i>Innocent Laughter.</i>”</p> -<p>“<i>Innocent Laughter!</i>” Tom Agate looked at Peggy -and Peter in amazement. “But that’s a hit! I understand -it’s the biggest thing this season.”</p> -<p>“It is,” Peggy said. “Oscar Stalkey’s forming a -road company of it. I’m to be general understudy and -Peter is company manager.”</p> -<p>“But what sort of a part could I play?”</p> -<p>“Let me tell you about <i>Innocent Laughter</i>,” Peggy -said, settling herself in her chair. Tom Agate nodded -agreement and for the next few minutes, Peggy outlined -the plot and the possibilities in the play.</p> -<p>“... so you see,” she finished at last, “the part -of the grandfather is simply made to order for you.”</p> -<p>“Who’s playing it now?” Tom asked. Peggy saw -he was beginning to become interested.</p> -<p>“Hiram Baker,” Peter said.</p> -<p>Tom Agate made a disgusted face. “But he’s no -actor! I remember Hiram as a youngster!”</p> -<p>Peter laughed. “Then prove you can do better.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_132">132</div> -<p>“That wouldn’t be hard,” Tom said with a chuckle. -He turned to Peggy with a smile of delight. “And -you’re the understudy, eh?” Peggy nodded. “Well, -well.” He smiled. “Your first real break?”</p> -<p>“With a professional company—yes.”</p> -<p>“I’d like to hear you read sometime.”</p> -<p>Peggy jumped to her feet and began rummaging -through her handbag. “Why not right now!” she -cried. “We can do the scene between the young girl -and her grandfather.”</p> -<p>“We?” Tom exclaimed.</p> -<p>“Well, I can’t do the scene all by myself, can I?” -said Peggy, with a quick look at Peter. “Somebody’s -got to read the other lines.”</p> -<p>Tom laughed. “All right,” he said. “I’ll humor you. -Give me the script.”</p> -<p>“Here,” Peter said, stepping forward. “I’ve got an -extra copy. You keep yours, Peggy.” Peter paced over -to one side of the room. “Let me explain what the -set looks like. We’ll pretend that this is a door. And -you’re sitting over there by the fire....”</p> -<p>In a few quick words Peter sketched in the scene -for Tom Agate. The old man followed every word, -nodding intermittently.</p> -<p>“I see,” he said at last. “Let’s try it.” He looked -over at Peggy. “Are you all set?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_133">133</div> -<p>Peggy nodded and said, “Start reading your lines -when you hear me sigh.” She found her place in the -script and took a deep breath. The tiny darkened -shop with its strange shapes and musty odor was -very quiet and, in an odd way, relaxing. With street -noises mute and far away, the room seemed somehow -warm and cozy, and Peggy approached the -scene ahead with anticipation and confidence. -Quietly, she made her way through the imaginary -door, walked over to the imaginary window, and -looked out. She sighed softly.</p> -<p>From the other side of the room, she could hear -Tom Agate turn slowly in his chair. “‘Why did you -come in so quietly?’” he read. His voice was rich and -warm. “‘You’re as furtive as a lady burglar tonight.’” -Here Tom added a note of gentle humor. “‘What’s -wrong?’” The last phrase was said perfectly, with -just the right amount of concern, but not too inquisitive.</p> -<p>“‘Oh,’” Peggy heard herself saying, “‘I didn’t -know anybody was here.’” That was the way! That -was the way she had wanted to say it at the audition!</p> -<p>“‘I’ll go if you like.’”</p> -<p>Suddenly the play had real meaning for Peggy. It -became important for her “grandfather” to stay. -“‘Oh no!’” she cried in a voice of alarm. Then more -quietly. “‘Please don’t. There’s—there’s something I -want to talk to you about.’”</p> -<p>The scene continued and this time there was no -one to stop them. The end came when Peggy, as the -young granddaughter, threw herself down on the -floor beside her grandfather and began to cry. To -her surprise, real tears came to her eyes.</p> -<p>“‘I’m sorry,’” she gulped. “‘I didn’t mean to cry.’”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_134">134</div> -<p>Above her, Tom Agate, still in the role of the grandfather, -reached down and touched her hair. “‘There, -there,’” he read. “‘A person should always have -somebody to cry with. It does the heart good. I may -not be that perfect person, but maybe I’ll do for -tonight.’” Tom Agate put his hand gently on her -shoulder. “‘There, there,’” he repeated.</p> -<p>And that was the end of the scene.</p> -<p class="tb">In the breathless hush that followed, Peggy -couldn’t trust herself to speak. Even Peter, who -never seemed at a loss for words, was silent. But -eventually, he put into words what they all knew.</p> -<p>“That was beautiful,” he said in an oddly choked -voice. “Simply beautiful. It’s the way the scene was -meant to be played all the time.” He reached down, -helped Peggy to her feet, and shook Tom Agate’s -hand. “Sir,” he said earnestly, “you were magnificent.”</p> -<p>Tom Agate passed a hand over his face. His eyes -were lighted with a shy smile of delight. “Nothing -to it,” he said. “After all, look at the help I had.” He -cocked a quizzical glance at Peter. “Do you mean to -say that this girl here”—he waved a hand at Peggy—“isn’t -playing the part of the daughter?”</p> -<p>“I’m afraid not,” Peter admitted. “Just the understudy.”</p> -<p>Tom shook his head. “What a waste!”</p> -<p>“It certainly is,” Peter replied. “But Oscar Stalkey -thinks she needs some more experience. And the -right people to work with,” he added significantly.</p> -<p>“Has he heard her read?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_135">135</div> -<p>“He hired her,” Peter pointed out. “He must think -she’s pretty fair.”</p> -<p>Peggy felt it was time to interrupt. “Look here, -you two,” she broke in. “If you’re quite finished -talking about me as if I weren’t here, maybe we can -get back to business.”</p> -<p>The two men looked at her. “What business?” -Tom demanded.</p> -<p>“Will you try out for the part of the grandfather?”</p> -<p>Tom Agate smiled and walked to one corner of -the room. “It’s a marvelous part,” he said indecisively.</p> -<p>“And you’re marvelous in it,” Peggy insisted. “Say -you’ll do it.”</p> -<p>Tom looked at Peter seriously. “Did Oscar say he -wanted me?”</p> -<p>“Yes, he did,” Peter assured him.</p> -<p>Tom moved back across the room, walking with -the easy step of someone half his years. Peggy saw -that his face was flushed and his eyes were sparkling -with an inner excitement she could only guess at.</p> -<p>He stopped abruptly and held out his hands to -them. “All right,” he said with unexpected forcefulness. -“I’ll give it a try.”</p> -<p>Peggy ran over to him. “You promise?” she said. -“You won’t change your mind?”</p> -<p>Tom shook his head firmly. “No, Peggy. When I -give my word, you can bank on it.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_136">136</div> -<p>Peggy whirled and grabbed Peter by the arm. -“Oh, Peter!” she cried. “Isn’t it wonderful!” The -three of them stood grinning foolishly at one another -like three mischievous children who have just invented -an especially wonderful game.</p> -<p>Tom Agate was the first to break away. “Well, -now,” he said, picking up the script, “might as well -get to work. I’ll want to read this before morning. -When does Stalkey expect us?”</p> -<p>“Auditions are scheduled for ten o’clock at the -Elgin Theater.”</p> -<p>Tom nodded with satisfaction. “Good. I’ll be -there.” He looked at Peggy anxiously. “You’ll read -the part with me, won’t you? Just like tonight?”</p> -<p>Peggy appealed to Peter. “What do you think?” -she asked.</p> -<p>“No problem there,” he assured them.</p> -<p>“Good.” Tom flipped open the script and ran his -thumb down the edges of the paper. “Incidentally,” -he said, “who else is in it?”</p> -<p>“Emily Burckhardt is playing the grandmother,” -Peter told him.</p> -<p>Tom beamed with pleasure. “That’s nice,” he said. -“I haven’t seen Emily for years. What about the -daughter?”</p> -<p>“Marcy Hubbard.”</p> -<p>Tom shook his head. “Don’t know her.”</p> -<p>“She’s a newcomer. I’m afraid we’re going to lose -her to Hollywood.”</p> -<p>“All the better,” Tom cried gaily. “Then Peggy -can play the part. How about the mother? I see she’s -got a big part.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_137">137</div> -<p>“It <i>is</i> a big part,” Peter admitted. “We’re centering -the play around her.”</p> -<p>Tom frowned. “Is that a good idea? Just from the -little I’ve read, I would have thought that the play -belonged to the old woman.”</p> -<p>“Well, we’ve got a big name, you see,” Peter explained.</p> -<p>Tom nodded understandingly. “Who is it?”</p> -<p>“Katherine Nelson.”</p> -<p>The transformation in Tom came without warning. -All color left him and his face suddenly became -drawn and old. “Who did you say?” he whispered in -a small, shocked voice.</p> -<p>“Katherine Nelson,” Peter repeated. “Why?”</p> -<p>It seemed an effort for Tom to breathe. The script -fell from his hand as he slowly rose to his feet. He -shook his head like a drunken man. “No,” he murmured -thickly. “I—I can’t.”</p> -<p>Peggy stepped forward. “Can’t what?” she asked -in a concerned voice. “Are you all right?”</p> -<p>Tom waved her away. “I can’t be in the play,” he -intoned dully. “I won’t be there tomorrow.”</p> -<p>Peggy looked at him incredulously. “But you promised!” -she said accusingly.</p> -<p>“I don’t care,” Tom said. “Please—go away now.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_138">138</div> -<p>Peggy reached out and took him by the shoulder. -“No,” she said urgently. “You can’t do this. I don’t -know what’s upset you, but you’ve just <i>got</i> to be -there tomorrow morning. Try and face it, whatever -it is.” She gave him a gentle shake. “For your sake -as well as ours.”</p> -<p>The old man looked at her sadly. “My dear,” he -said wistfully, “you don’t know what you’re asking.”</p> -<p>“I know I don’t,” Peggy said. “But we’re depending -on you.”</p> -<p>Tom Agate seemed to stand a little straighter even -though the hurt look still lingered in his eyes. He -gazed at Peggy steadfastly and sighed. “You remind -me of someone,” he said at last. “Someone—I knew -a long time ago. Will you be there tomorrow?”</p> -<p>“Yes,” Peggy said quietly.</p> -<p>“Do you promise?”</p> -<p>Peggy nodded. “I promise.”</p> -<p>Torn seemed satisfied. “All right then,” he said. -“I’ll be there. But, please, don’t let me down.”</p> -<p>Peggy took her hand away. “I won’t,” she said -gently. “You can trust me.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_139">139</div> -<h2 id="c12"><span class="h2line1">XII</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">Tom’s Tryout</span></h2> -<p>The theater the next morning seemed full of old -men, all of them there to try out for the part of the -grandfather. Peggy arrived shortly before ten o’clock, -and after scanning the rows of seats for Tom Agate, -sank down in an aisle seat toward the back. Promptly -at ten, Craig Claiborne began the auditions. The -same bored assistant stage manager who had read -with Peggy two days earlier took his place behind -the plain table on stage and began to read with each -candidate. Fortunately, it was the same scene Peggy -had read with Tom the night before.</p> -<p>One after another, the old men trudged up to the -stage and went through the lines that had now become -so familiar to Peggy. Some were better than -others, but all lacked the authority, the fire the part -demanded.</p> -<p>At ten-thirty, just as Peggy was beginning to grow -anxious, a tall figure dropped into the empty seat -beside her. “Has he come yet?” It was Peter Grey -and he seemed equally worried.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_140">140</div> -<p>“No,” Peggy whispered. “Will they wait for him?”</p> -<p>Peter shook his head briefly. “I haven’t even told -Mr. Stalkey he’s coming. I was afraid he wouldn’t -show up.”</p> -<p>“How much longer do we have?”</p> -<p>“If he’s not here in the next half hour, we’ll have -to give it up.”</p> -<p>Peggy was suddenly struck by an idea. “Peter!” -she said. “Did you give his name to the doorman? -They won’t let him in if he’s not on the list.”</p> -<p>Peter grinned down at her. “Don’t worry,” he said. -“All taken care of.”</p> -<p>Peggy sat back and tried to concentrate on the -auditions. When she saw that the last of the actors -was approaching the stage, she turned uneasily in -her seat to look toward the rear of the theater. That -was when she saw Tom standing quietly behind the -curtains that separated the inner lobby from the -orchestra. Without taking her eyes off Tom, she -reached out and touched Peter on the sleeve of his -jacket.</p> -<p>“Look,” she said in a triumphant whisper. “Look -behind you, Peter. He’s come.”</p> -<p>Peter swiveled in his seat, saw Tom, and leaped -to his feet. “You talk to him,” he ordered, “While I -go tell Mr. Stalkey.”</p> -<p>Peggy slid out into the aisle and walked slowly -back to Tom Agate. He saw her coming and nodded -a shy greeting. “Hello,” he said quietly.</p> -<p>Peggy held out her hand. “I’m glad you came.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_141">141</div> -<p>Tom nodded briefly. “I almost didn’t make it,” he -said with a nervous laugh. “If it hadn’t been for that -promise....” He trailed off and shook his head.</p> -<p>“Well, you’re here now,” Peggy said, slipping her -arm through his. “Come on and sit down. I think -they’re almost ready for us.” She could feel Tom -shiver as they walked down the aisle.</p> -<p>“How were the auditions?” he asked, almost hopefully, -it seemed to Peggy. “Did Oscar find anyone?”</p> -<p>“Mr. Stalkey doesn’t take me into his confidence,” -Peggy replied with a smile, “but I don’t think so.”</p> -<p>Tom didn’t say a word, but hunched into a seat -beside Peggy. In his lap he held a copy of the script -of <i>Innocent Laughter</i>. Down in front Peggy saw -Peter Grey leaning over Oscar Stalkey and Craig -Claiborne. The three of them seemed deep in conversation. -Suddenly Oscar Stalkey gave a little jerk -of his head and came up the aisle with the quick -steps Peggy remembered so well from her interview -in his office. Tom Agate straightened in his seat, uncertain -of what to do.</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey settled the problem by gripping the -old man’s hand warmly. “Hello, Tom,” he said, and -Peggy heard genuine affection and respect in his tone. -“How have you been keeping yourself?”</p> -<p>Tom struggled to his feet, a flush of pleasure -creeping over his face. “Fine, Oscar,” he answered. -“Just fine. Congratulations on a fine play.”</p> -<p>“Thanks,” Oscar Stalkey said. “What about the -part of the grandfather? Think you’d like to play it?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_142">142</div> -<p>“Don’t know if I can, Oscar.”</p> -<p>The producer laughed. “That’s not what I heard. -Peter Grey said you were great.”</p> -<p>“It’s nice of him to say so,” Tom murmured.</p> -<p>“How about going over a scene or two for us now?” -Oscar Stalkey took him by the arm and led him toward -the stage. “But first I’d like you to meet Craig -Claiborne, our director.”</p> -<p>Tom seemed reluctant to follow Oscar Stalkey. -“There’s one favor....” he said tentatively.</p> -<p>“Anything at all,” the producer declared expansively. -“You name it.”</p> -<p>“I’d like to read the scene with Miss Lane.”</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey shot a quick glance at Peggy and -turned back to Tom. “Sure thing, Tom,” he said, putting -his hand on the old actor’s shoulder. “When do -you want to start?”</p> -<p>Tom smiled. “Might as well get it over with,” he -declared. “Peggy?” he said questioningly. “Are you -ready?”</p> -<p>Peggy nodded and stood up. The three of them -walked slowly down to the edge of the stage where -Oscar Stalkey made hurried introductions. A few -moments later, Peggy found herself back behind the -door waiting for Craig Claiborne’s cue. Two days ago -she had been so frightened that she could hardly -move. But now all that had vanished. It was a calm -and confident Peggy who pushed open the door when -Craig Claiborne gave the word.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_143">143</div> -<p>Peggy moved effortlessly through the lines, feeling -every pause and groping for exactly the right intonation -on every phrase, every word. The big theater -was hushed as the white-haired veteran and the -newcomer built slowly but surely to the moving -climax. But Peggy didn’t notice any of that. Except -for the small circle of light that was the playing area, -the world ceased to exist, She didn’t even stop to -think that she was playing a scene from Broadway’s -biggest hit play on the stage of one of New York’s -most famous theaters. For the past few years she -had dreamed of doing this, but now that the day -had arrived, she was so caught up in the powerful -emotions of acting that it never once occurred to her -that her dreams had suddenly turned into reality.</p> -<p>The scene slowly drew to a close as Peggy knelt -beside Tom. Just as on the night before, she could -feel his hand gently stroking her hair. The two of -them held their positions for maybe half a minute -and then Peggy scrambled to her feet, wondering -how things had gone. The first hint came when she -glanced over at the wings to see three or four stagehands -grouped silently beyond the ropes that operated -the front curtain. Mr. Fox, the assistant stage -manager, was still sitting behind his table, looking -like a man hypnotized. No one moved.</p> -<p>Then from the seats out front Peggy heard someone -blow his nose. The next instant Mr. Stalkey came -leaping up the steps, his eyes suspiciously bright.</p> -<p>“Tom,” he said, coming directly to the point, “will -you take the part?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_144">144</div> -<p>Tom blinked and stood up. “Are you really sure?” -he asked. “Sure you want me?”</p> -<p>Mr. Stalkey opened his eyes. “Want you!” he exclaimed. -“Let me tell you something. I must have -seen this play a hundred times, but this morning for -the first time you’ve shown me how this scene should -be played. Let’s go up to the office and talk business.” -He threw an arm around the old man’s shoulder and -started to walk him off stage.</p> -<p>Watching Tom Agate’s face was an experience -Peggy never forgot. When she had first seen him the -night before he was a lost soul without the will or the -ability to venture far from the airless confines of Syd -Walsh’s shop. But now he looked alive and alert, like -a man who had rediscovered himself and was proud -of it.</p> -<p>Then, suddenly, Peggy saw his body tremble and -sway. For a moment she thought he had been taken -ill and made a move forward to help him. It was then -that she saw what the trouble was.</p> -<p>Standing in the doorway leading to the backstage -area, her hands clenched tightly together, was Katherine -Nelson.</p> -<p>Stamped across her face was a look of such unutterable -shock, mingled with pain and fear, that for -a brief moment Peggy felt sorry for her. Then slowly -the color crept back into her cheeks and she took a -step forward.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_145">145</div> -<p>Oscar Stalkey, who seemed blissfully unaware of -what was happening, welcomed her eagerly. “You’ve -just missed the greatest audition of all time,” he said -jovially. “But don’t worry, it’s a performance you’ll see -a lot of over the next few months. Katherine, I’d like -you to meet Tom Agate.”</p> -<p>Katherine Nelson ignored Tom completely. “What -do you mean?” she said in a voice that she was obviously -controlling at great effort. “What kind of audition?”</p> -<p>“Why, Tom Agate has just read for the grandfather -in <i>Innocent Laughter</i>,” explained Stalkey. “And, I -might add, has got the part.” Katherine Nelson -stepped back as though she had been struck in the -face. “By the way,” he continued blandly, “do you -two know each other?”</p> -<p>“Know each other!” Katherine Nelson breathed. -She turned on Stalkey in sudden fury. “What are you -trying to do to me?” she grated. “Ruin my career? -Make a laughingstock of me?”</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey looked bewildered. “Why, my dear,” -he temporized, “I don’t know what you’re talking -about. And I don’t think you do either!”</p> -<p>“A vaudeville song-and-dance man!” Katherine -Nelson said and her voice was heavy with scorn. “A -broken-down old has-been who probably can’t even -remember his lines! This is what you want to put -into one of my plays? Never!” She advanced toward -Oscar Stalkey, her eyes flashing. “Either he goes or -I go! I will not play in the same company with that -man!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_146">146</div> -<p>Oscar Stalkey held his ground firmly, but Tom -Agate cringed away. “Look, Oscar,” he said dully, -“she’s probably right. Let’s just forget about the -whole—”</p> -<p>“Be quiet, both of you!” the producer thundered. -Peggy noticed that his face was as flushed as Katherine -Nelson’s. “Now you listen to me, Katherine. I’m -still the producer of <i>Innocent Laughter</i> and <i>I</i> make -the decisions about who goes into the cast and who -doesn’t. Tom Agate is perfect for the part of the -grandfather. Furthermore, he’s got a name that still -has drawing power. Maybe it’s not as big a name as -yours, but it’ll do, and I’m willing to gamble on him. -As for you, you’ve got a contract. Now, if you want to -break it, I’ll give you permission to go right ahead. -You can come up to the office right now and we can -tear it up together. But if you do”—Oscar Stalkey -lowered his voice in warning—“you’ll never be in -another one of my shows. You know perfectly well -what <i>Innocent Laughter</i> can do for you. You’ll have -a success again—for the first time in quite a while. -And believe me, Katherine, you <i>need</i> a success.”</p> -<p>For a long moment Katherine Nelson was speechless. -Finally, in a voice that was noticeably shaking, -she asked, “Is that your final word?”</p> -<p>“It is,” Stalkey replied firmly.</p> -<p>The actress swayed, caught herself, then turned to -Tom Agate. “All right,” she said in a low voice, keeping -her eyes on Tom. “I’ll agree to what you want. -But only on one condition.”</p> -<p>“What’s that?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_147">147</div> -<p>Katherine Nelson spoke slowly but with withering -effect. “That I have nothing to do with Tom Agate—except -during rehearsals and performance. That I -won’t speak to him—look at him—or touch him. Is -that understood?”</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey frowned, started to say something, -then changed his mind. “Suit yourself,” he said at last. -“Of course, I don’t know how Tom feels—”</p> -<p>Tom, who had lowered his eyes under Katherine -Nelson’s scathing attack, straightened visibly. His -face was grave and serious, but he was no longer -cowering. He seemed to have come to some sort of -inner decision. He returned Katherine Nelson’s contemptuous -stare squarely.</p> -<p>“Very well, Katherine,” he said firmly. “You can -live like that if you like. I won’t stop you. But listen -to me. Whatever you do, don’t cut yourself off. I’ve -been through it. I know what it’s like.” He lowered -his voice to a gentle whisper. “Besides, it doesn’t -help.”</p> -<p>Katherine Nelson turned without a word and -walked slowly away. Her face was a wooden mask -that hid—what? Peggy wondered.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_148">148</div> -<h2 id="c13"><span class="h2line1">XIII</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">The Ordeal</span></h2> -<p>Katherine Nelson was as good as her word. In the -hectic days that followed, she never spoke to Tom -Agate unless it was absolutely necessary. Her manner -was cold, aloof, and imperious. She listened to Craig -Claiborne whenever he directed her, but seldom followed -his advice. With the older members of the cast -she was icily polite, a pose that was frequently shattered -by violent outbursts of temper. As for Peggy, -Katherine Nelson studiously ignored her. Peter Grey -explained it by saying that the actress had discovered -it was Peggy who was largely responsible for Tom’s -presence in the cast.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_149">149</div> -<p>Actually, Peggy didn’t see much of Peter. Both he -and Pam were too busy with the thousands of chores -that go with sending a theatrical company on the -road. The only other person in the company, aside -from Pam, who was close to Peggy’s age was Marcy -Hubbard, the girl playing the part of the young -daughter. Marcy was a breath-takingly beautiful girl -with a clever sense of timing and a pleasant, friendly, -off stage manner, but Peggy never got to know her -well. Marcy, very much in love and recently engaged, -spent every available spare moment with her fiancé, -a quiet young man who picked her up at the theater -immediately after rehearsals.</p> -<p>This left only Amy, May Berriman, and Randy -Brewster to talk to. Not that they weren’t eager listeners. -But because they never had a chance to see -any of the rehearsals, Peggy was forced to go into -great detail in order to answer their many questions.</p> -<p>“You mean to say that she <i>never</i> speaks to him?” -Amy asked one evening, during the second week of -rehearsals. They were sitting in May Berriman’s private -sitting room on the ground floor of the Gramercy -Arms. Amy, Peggy, and Randy had all been to dinner -together, and when they came back May had seen -them and invited them in for coffee.</p> -<p>“She hardly ever speaks to anyone,” Peggy said. -“I’ve never seen anything like it.”</p> -<p>“Goodness,” Amy said wonderingly. “That must put -a strain on things.”</p> -<p>“You don’t know,” Peggy answered. “It’s as if we -were rehearsing a play about the end of the world -or something—not a romantic comedy that should be -full of laughs.”</p> -<p>“How do you get along with her?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_150">150</div> -<p>“Me? Like everybody else. I’ve got one tiny scene -in the first act. I come in with Marcy, who’s supposed -to introduce me to her mother—that’s Katherine -Nelson. We say a few words to each other and then -I go out again.”</p> -<p>“How does that go?” Randy asked, balancing his -cup and saucer in one hand. “If I remember rightly -you have one or two nice lines.”</p> -<p>“I did have, you mean,” Peggy said moodily. “Katherine -Nelson insisted on cutting them.”</p> -<p>May Berriman arched her eyebrows. “How did she -manage that?”</p> -<p>“She said I wasn’t doing them right.”</p> -<p>“Were you?”</p> -<p>Peggy looked at them helplessly. “No,” she said, “I -guess I wasn’t. But I don’t think anybody could,” she -added stoutly. “You see, when I come on to meet the -mother, Katherine Nelson doesn’t even look at me.”</p> -<p>“Where <i>does</i> she look?” Amy demanded.</p> -<p>Peggy touched her right ear. “She keeps staring at -a spot just about here. Her face never changes expression, -and her eyes look positively glassy. Now, -how can you react to someone like that?”</p> -<p>“It sounds as though she were some sort of mechanical -doll,” Randy said.</p> -<p>“That’s exactly it!” Peggy cried. “We’re all mechanical -people. We go through the right motions and say -the right words, but it’s all so stiff—without any life -or warmth.”</p> -<p>“Even Tom Agate?” May asked.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_151">151</div> -<p>Peggy’s face softened. “No,” she said quietly. “He’s -wonderful. I don’t know how he does it. He’s the only -one with any spark to his performance. It’s a joy to -see him come out on stage.” She shook her head wonderingly. -“I think that man could act with a stone -statue.”</p> -<p class="tb">In Oscar Stalkey’s office, two men were pacing back -and forth restlessly. One of them was Stalkey himself, -but then he always paced. The other was Craig -Claiborne, who was usually relaxed and easygoing. -The director threw out an impatient hand. “It just -won’t work, Oscar!” he said. “I’ve tried everything, -but that woman stiffens them all up like blocks of ice. -She won’t do a thing I tell her, and as a result, this -so-called comedy we’re about to take out on the road -sounds like a dramatized version of an obituary -column.”</p> -<p>“Now, now,” Oscar Stalkey soothed. “It can’t be as -bad as all that.” But his face looked drawn, worried.</p> -<p>“Come on, Oscar,” Claiborne said. “You know it is.”</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey sighed heavily. “Maybe it’ll get better,” -he said hopefully. “You know, with opening -night and all, there’s bound to be some excitement.”</p> -<p>The director shook his head with stark finality. -“Opening night is just around the corner,” he said, -“and they’re getting worse. Every last one of them. -Except,” he added hastily, “Tom Agate. What a remarkable -old man!”</p> -<p class="tb">“Three weeks in Baltimore!” Peter looked up from -the pile of papers on his desk and laughed bitterly. -“We’ll be lucky to last three nights!”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_152">152</div> -<p>At the other end of the office Pam Mundy’s fingers -kept up a steady tattoo over the keys of her typewriter. -She didn’t bother to answer. She knew he was -right.</p> -<p class="tb">Oscar Stalkey didn’t quite know how to begin. He -prowled uncertainly along the bookcases lining one -side of his office, trying to keep his temper in check -and his voice low. Sitting in the most comfortable -chair in the room, Katherine Nelson watched him -steadily and waited for him to speak.</p> -<p>At last he asked the question that had been preying -on his mind for the past two weeks. “Why?” he said -simply. “Why are you doing this?”</p> -<p>“Doing what?” Katherine Nelson inquired innocently.</p> -<p>Stalkey gave an exasperated shake of his head. -“You know perfectly well. The play’s going to pieces.”</p> -<p>She crossed her legs and returned his pleading stare -with a bland smile. “Are you suggesting it’s my fault?” -she asked.</p> -<p>“Of course I am!” the producer exploded. “Whose -fault d’you think it is?”</p> -<p>“Now that’s very interesting,” the actress said -coolly. “Supposing we go over my so-called shortcomings. -First of all, have I ever missed a rehearsal—or -even been late for one?”</p> -<p>“No,” Stalkey admitted uncomfortably. “But—”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_153">153</div> -<p>“Let me finish,” Katherine Nelson insisted. “There’s -been no trouble with my lines. I know them perfectly. -Now, I admit I’ve had some disagreements with -Craig Claiborne. He’s wanted me to do some things I -don’t like.”</p> -<p>“And so you didn’t,” Stalkey concluded gloomily.</p> -<p>“No, I didn’t,” Katherine Nelson said cheerfully. -“But why should I follow his orders like a robot? -After all, I’ve had thirty years of experience in the -theater. I’m an established star. Surely I’ve got some -right to express myself in my own way. Be reasonable, -Oscar.”</p> -<p>“Well, what about the other people in the cast? You -treat them like dirt.”</p> -<p>Katherine Nelson looked shocked. “I do not,” she -declared. “I haven’t said a word to them.”</p> -<p>“That’s the whole trouble. You completely ignore -them.”</p> -<p>The actress looked pained. She leaned forward in -her chair and spoke intensely. “I’m a professional, -Oscar. The theater is my business. I don’t go to rehearsals -to socialize or have a good time. I’m there to -work. And I expect others to do the same.”</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey threw up his hands. “Have it your -own way, Katherine, but something’s all wrong. I -know it and so do you. You’re not the only professional -in the cast. Emily Burckhardt’s been in the -theater as long as you have and she’s upset.”</p> -<p>“Poor Emily,” Katherine Nelson said sweetly. “Her -trouble is that she’s got to play so many scenes with -that horrible man.”</p> -<p>Stalkey glanced at her shrewdly. “Tom Agate?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_154">154</div> -<p>Katherine Nelson didn’t answer. She smiled instead.</p> -<p class="tb">“... Oh, it all <i>sounds</i> reasonable enough,” Stalkey -said later that day. He and Craig Claiborne were -having a conference after rehearsal. “She claims she -has her own way of working, and that she’s building -up to a performance. She’s terribly, terribly sorry that -the others are having such a hard time, but it’s not -her fault.” The producer’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.</p> -<p>Craig Claiborne was more direct. He only said one -word.</p> -<p>“Nuts.”</p> -<p class="tb">“I’ve seen it happen before,” May said thoughtfully. -They were entering the third week of rehearsals, and -Peggy had made it a habit to report to May every -night. The older woman’s advice was usually sympathetic -and helpful. “I can see her little game just as -clearly as if it were written on the wall.”</p> -<p>“But what is it?” Peggy asked. “I’ve never known -anything like this before. Honestly, it’s gotten so I -<i>hate</i> to go to rehearsals in the morning. The atmosphere -in that theater is simply loaded with bitterness. -Everybody’s on edge.”</p> -<p>“Except Katherine Nelson. I bet she’s all sweetness -and light.”</p> -<p>Peggy looked at her in astonishment. “How did you -know that?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_155">155</div> -<p>May smiled. “I told you. I know what she’s up to. -Look, Peggy, she wants to get rid of Tom Agate, and -she doesn’t care whom she hurts in the process. She’s -deliberately throwing everybody off balance by giving -a technically perfect but cold performance. You -just wait until opening night, though. Because of the -way she’s been acting, everyone in the cast will have -a terrible case of first-night jitters. But not our girl. -Not Katherine Nelson. That night, she’ll open up and -play the part with everything she’s got. The result?” -May smiled bitterly. “She’ll be the heroine of the -hour. Then she can go up to Oscar Stalkey and say, -‘See, I told you so. I was fine. It’s the others that are -bad.’ And he’ll have to listen to her because she’ll be -speaking from a position of strength.”</p> -<p>“But what good will that do?” Peggy asked.</p> -<p>“She’ll put on pressure to fire Tom Agate. And -Oscar Stalkey will have to do it, too. Reluctantly, he’ll -ask for Tom’s resignation.”</p> -<p>“But Tom’s so good,” Peggy protested. “He’s the -only one in the cast who isn’t being affected by her.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_156">156</div> -<p>May shook her doubtfully. “He’s only human,” she -said. “I’m afraid the strain is going to show.”</p> -<p class="tb">May was right. Tom began to fall to pieces during -the next rehearsal. Where he had once been alive and -vital, he now read his lines unevenly, in a lackluster -mumble. In the second act, he completely forgot one -of his lines, and in the third act he forgot to come in -on his entrance. That was when Craig Claiborne lost -his temper and bawled him out in front of the other -members of the cast. During the tirade, Peggy stole -a glance at Katherine Nelson. The actress was standing -perfectly still, an unholy gleam in her eyes.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_157">157</div> -<h2 id="c14"><span class="h2line1">XIV</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">The Secret</span></h2> -<p>Craig Claiborne was slumped deep in the easy chair -in Oscar Stalkey’s office. A look of troubled guilt was -stamped across his face. “I apologized later,” he was -saying to the producer, who for once was not pacing. -He was sitting across from his director, chewing -nervously on the stump of a cold cigar, looking haggard -and careworn.</p> -<p>“What did he say?” Stalkey asked.</p> -<p>“He mumbled something about its all being his -fault and shuffled out.”</p> -<p>“Where did he go?”</p> -<p>“How the devil should I know? I’m not his nurse.” -Claiborne passed a weary hand over his forehead. -“I’m sorry, Oscar. I didn’t mean to snap at you. But -this thing’s got us all to the breaking point.” He -paused and looked at the producer steadily. “Have -you thought of asking for Katherine Nelson’s resignation?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_158">158</div> -<p>Stalkey removed the cigar from his mouth. “On -what grounds?” he shot back. “Yes, I’ve hinted at it,” -he added morosely. “But she laughed at me. She said -she’d never resign.”</p> -<p>“Did you threaten to fire her?”</p> -<p>“I didn’t have to. She told me that if I tried to get -rid of her she’d raise such a fuss the show would -never open.”</p> -<p>“But that’s all bluff.”</p> -<p>Stalkey sighed. “Maybe. But she threatened to sue -me and drag the whole thing into court.”</p> -<p>“But—I don’t understand her attitude.”</p> -<p>“Neither do I!” Stalkey said. “I don’t know what -she hopes to accomplish. It won’t do her any good to -have the play flop.” The producer changed the subject -abruptly. “What about Tom? Do you think he’ll -be back?”</p> -<p>Claiborne shook his head. “We’ll see.”</p> -<p class="tb">It was nearly a quarter of three and Tom Agate -still hadn’t appeared. Their nerves frayed and their -tempers short, the rest of the cast went through some -scenes where Tom wasn’t needed. Finally, just a few -minutes before the hour, the back doors of the theater -opened and Tom came striding purposefully down -the aisle. On stage, the cast members greeted his -arrival with smiles of relief. All except Katherine Nelson. -She drew in her breath sharply, marched over to -a chair, and sat down forbiddingly.</p> -<p>“Sorry I’m late,” Tom apologized. “But the train -broke down.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_159">159</div> -<p>“That’s no excuse,” came a cold, hard voice. “You’ve -kept us waiting for nearly an hour. If you don’t have -more of a sense of responsibility than that, you should -get out!”</p> -<p>In the silence that followed, Tom went up to Katherine -Nelson and looked down at her. An expression -of sorrow, mingled with pity, crossed his face. “It -won’t work, Katherine,” he said softly. “I’m in this to -the finish.” He turned away abruptly and signaled -Craig Claiborne. “I’m ready whenever you are.”</p> -<p>“All right,” Craig announced. “We’ll do the scene -between the grandfather and the daughter. Marcy! -Let’s go!”</p> -<p>Peggy, who had come to look upon this scene almost -as her private property, stood in the wings and -watched it unfold. She had seen it so many times before, -knew every line of dialogue and every movement, -but she still loved it.</p> -<p>As soon as Tom came on stage, it was evident that -he had regained the confidence that he had lost yesterday. -His rich, deep voice colored the empty theater, -making it glow with warmth and life. Peggy -smiled to herself and settled down to watch. It soon -became clear that this was the finest performance -Tom had given yet. It was almost as if he wanted to -make up for the day before. Everyone in the theater -stood engrossed as the two actors went through their -scene.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_160">160</div> -<p>Halfway through the scene, Peggy suddenly realized -she wasn’t alone. Standing a few feet away from -her, half hidden by the backstage gloom, was Katherine -Nelson. Her eyes never left Tom Agate, and as -Peggy watched, the older actress’s face softened in an -infinitely sad and tender half-smile. Peggy had never -seen her look like that before. She was almost in tears. -Then, abruptly, Katherine Nelson turned and moved -quickly out of sight to her dressing room. Peggy -thought she heard a stifled sob.</p> -<p>The young girl stared after her with a puzzled -frown. “Now what,” she murmured to herself, “do -you suppose that means?”</p> -<p class="tb">“I went to see Tommy today,” Tom was saying to -Peggy later that afternoon. They were standing in the -little alley behind the theater, taking a quick breath -of fresh air before going back to rehearsal.</p> -<p>“Tommy?” Peggy asked, trying to place the name.</p> -<p>“You remember,” Tom said. “Tommy Stanton. Out -on Tidewater Road. You were the one who told me -that he wanted to see me again.”</p> -<p>Peggy brightened. “Oh, Tommy! Of course. Was he -glad you came?”</p> -<p>Tom Agate smiled, obviously pleased by what had -happened. “Yes, I think he was. He played me some -of our old songs on the banjo, and I gave him another -lesson.”</p> -<p>“He must have been surprised.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_161">161</div> -<p>“That’s a funny thing. He wasn’t. He was certain -I’d be out soon, because you had promised it. He said -he never gave up knowing that I’d be back.” Tom -shook his head in wonder. “That little boy taught me -an important lesson. You know, I was ready to give -up yesterday. I wanted to quit the company.” When -Peggy didn’t say anything, Tom went on. “Yes, I -thought there wasn’t any use in going on. What was -the point? But Tommy gave me back the faith I’d -lost. I don’t know where he gets so much courage. He -doesn’t have a very happy life.”</p> -<p>“I didn’t know that,” Peggy said. “What’s wrong?”</p> -<p>“He’s alone so much of the time,” Tom explained. -“The family’s terribly poor, and both his mother and -father go out to work all day. They don’t want him -out on the street and there isn’t much to do alone in -the house. That’s why he loves the banjo so much. It -gives him an interest.” Tom laughed. “You know, he -wanted to come away with me. He said he was going -to visit me sometime and see all the kings and queens. -He was especially eager to meet the one-eyed giant.”</p> -<p>“I’m sure he was.” Peggy laughed. “What did you -say?”</p> -<p>“I told him it was a long way off and not to try. -But he said he didn’t care. He knew where it was.”</p> -<p>“I wonder what he meant by that?”</p> -<p>“I don’t know. When we said good-by, he told me -not to be lonely. Imagine! Him telling that to me. He -said he’d see me soon—after he learned the new song -I’d taught him.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_162">162</div> -<p>The two of them stood quietly in the dingy alleyway, -wrapped in their private thoughts. Peggy drew -her coat up around her neck. Fall had turned to winter, -and there was just a hint of snow in the air.</p> -<p class="tb">Emily Burckhardt resigned the next afternoon. -Surprisingly, Oscar Stalkey accepted her decision -without protest. “I can’t blame you, Emily,” he told -her.</p> -<p>“That woman is just impossible,” Emily said. She -stated it as a fact, simply and without rancor. “If you -don’t get her out of the play, you might as well not -bother sending it out on tour.”</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey nodded. “I know. But I’m going to -give her another two days. Things might work themselves -out by that time.”</p> -<p>Emily Burckhardt looked doubtful but kept silent. -“Have you any thoughts about my replacement?” she -asked.</p> -<p>“Yes, I am considering Enid Partridge. She’s free -and I think she’d do a nice job.”</p> -<p>Emily nodded in agreement. “Good choice.” She -extended her hand. “Again, let me tell you how sorry -I am about leaving, but you know how it is.”</p> -<p>“Just a minute, Emily. Do you like the part of the -grandmother? I mean if it wasn’t for the other -thing....”</p> -<p>“I love it,” Emily said with a shrug. “I would have -enjoyed playing it.”</p> -<p>Stalkey smiled. “Well then, it’s not all bad news, -anyway.”</p> -<p>“I don’t know what you mean.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_163">163</div> -<p>“The present company—the one that’s in New -York now—has been booked to open in London. -Paula Howard doesn’t want to leave the country. -She’s doing a fine job as the grandmother here, but -doesn’t think she’s up to making the trip. She wants -to resign the part.”</p> -<p>Emily brightened considerably. “And you want me -to take her place?” she asked.</p> -<p>Stalkey nodded. “What about it?”</p> -<p>Emily nodded her head emphatically. “When do -we leave?”</p> -<p>“Not for another six months. Although Paula wants -out right away. Do you think you could take over in -two weeks, say?”</p> -<p>“I could take over right now,” Emily declared.</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey sighed. “Good. At least that’s one -thing off my mind.”</p> -<p>“Tell me something, Oscar,” Emily asked curiously. -“The New York company is scheduled to go to London -in six months. How are you planning to replace -them here?”</p> -<p>“I had thought of bringing in the Chicago road -company. But now”—Oscar Stalkey shook his head -darkly—“I don’t know. We’ll cross that bridge later.”</p> -<p>“There’s one more thing you ought to know,” Emily -said. “Marcy Hubbard is thinking of quitting.”</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey drew a deep breath. “Did she tell you -that?”</p> -<p>Emily nodded. “She thinks it would be bad for her -career to open in a play that’s as bad as this.”</p> -<p>“Oh, she does, does she?” the producer said grimly.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_164">164</div> -<p>“Don’t blame her, Oscar,” Emily urged. “Besides, -she’s had a very attractive offer from Hollywood.”</p> -<p>Oscar Stalkey sighed. “Let her go, if she wants to. -That’s one problem I’m not worried about. I know -who’ll take her part.”</p> -<p>“Who?”</p> -<p>“Peggy Lane.”</p> -<p class="tb">Stalkey made the announcement of Emily Burckhardt’s -resignation late that afternoon. The cast was -shocked by the news and sat in numbed surprise. -After that, Craig Claiborne excused them and posted -a notice for ten o’clock the following morning. -Slowly, everyone left the theater, struggling into -heavy coats as they prepared to face a swirling snowstorm -that had struck New York about noon that day.</p> -<p>Peggy didn’t leave the theater at once. She hunched -in one of the seats of the auditorium, thinking about -the past three and a half weeks. It seemed impossible -that they would be opening in ten days. Half her life -she had been looking forward to the day when she -would be rehearsing a play with a professional company. -She had imagined the fun of working together, -the excitement of the big night approaching. But instead -of what her imagination had led her to expect, -she was left with an empty feeling of hopeless frustration. -She realized with sudden clarity that she -didn’t care <i>when</i> the play opened. It all seemed so -pointless.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_165">165</div> -<p>She sighed, struggled wearily to her feet, and -walked aimlessly down the aisle and on up to the -stage. There was no sense in staying here. She’d go -home and talk to May. She turned the corner to go -backstage, then stopped abruptly.</p> -<p>There was a light on in Katherine Nelson’s dressing -room. The door was ajar, and from where Peggy stood -she could see the star sitting in front of her make-up -table, her head buried in her hands. As Peggy -watched, Katherine Nelson drew her hands from her -face and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Peggy -saw that she had been crying.</p> -<p>It was an embarrassing moment. Peggy didn’t know -whether to make her presence known or remain hidden -in the shadows of the darkened stage. As she hesitated -in momentary indecision, the heavy iron stage -door leading to the street banged open, and for a -second or two winter roared into the theater. The -door clanged shut and footsteps shuffled up the passageway. -In her dressing room, Katherine Nelson -jumped to her feet and came out into the backstage -area. “Who’s there?” she cried sharply.</p> -<p>“It’s all right, miss,” came a voice.</p> -<p>The next instant Peggy saw a large, craggy policeman -step into the circle of light. With one hand he -brushed away the snow clinging to his uniform. His -other hand clutched a small boy, who seemed to be -staring around in expectant wonder. Peggy recognized -the little boy at once. It was Tommy Stanton.</p> -<p>“Excuse me, ma’am,” the policeman said, touching -his hat. “But where would I find a Mr. Armour?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_166">166</div> -<div class="img" id="pic6"> -<img src="images/p06.jpg" alt="" width="394" height="693" /> -<p class="caption"><i>With one hand, the policeman clutched a small boy.</i></p> -</div> -<div class="pb" id="Page_167">167</div> -<p>“Mr. Armour?” Katherine Nelson answered vacantly. -“Nobody by that name here.”</p> -<p>The policeman bent down and addressed his -charge. “You see, son?” he asked kindly. “You must -have made a mistake.”</p> -<p>“No, sir,” the boy said in a clear, emphatic voice, -“I know him.” He looked at Katherine Nelson curiously. -“Are you one of the queens?” he asked.</p> -<p>Katherine Nelson frowned. “Queens? What’s this -all about?”</p> -<p>The policeman shifted his weight uncomfortably. -“Well, it’s this way, ma’am. I found this little fellow -wandering around Times Square all alone. He told -me he lives all the way out on Long Island, and I can’t -imagine how he got here by himself. Anyway, he did, -and I was going to take him over to the stationhouse, -but he won’t tell me his name until he sees this friend -of his.” The policeman fished in his pocket and came -up with a ragged newspaper clipping. “Do you know -who this is?” He showed her the scrap of paper. “The -boy seems to know him as Mr. Armour, even though -the name under the picture is Tom Agate.”</p> -<p>Peggy saw Katherine Nelson start. She looked -down at Tommy Stanton and then back at the photograph. -“What made you come here?” she asked the -officer.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_168">168</div> -<p>“The piece in the paper here,” he said, pointing it -out with a stubby finger. “It said that Mr. Agate—or -Mr. Armour or whatever his name is—is rehearsing at -the Elgin Theater. The boy is full of some kind of -story about a secret place with one-eyed giants. I -couldn’t make any sense out of that, so I decided to -give the theater a try since it wasn’t much out of our -way.”</p> -<p>Katherine Nelson took the newspaper clipping from -the policeman and leaned down beside Tommy. “Will -you tell me your name?” she asked.</p> -<p>“Tommy,” came the prompt reply.</p> -<p>“Well, Tommy, you see this picture here?” She -showed him the picture. “Where did you get it?”</p> -<p>“I tore it out of the paper. Can I see him, please?”</p> -<p>“What do you want to see him about?”</p> -<p>“I learned the piece he taught me the other day,” -Tommy said simply. Then, for the first time, Peggy -realized he was carrying the banjo that Tom had given -him. The little boy held it out proudly. “Would you -like me to play it for you?”</p> -<p>When Katherine Nelson saw the instrument, she -gasped and stepped back a pace. The policeman -threw out a hand to support her. “Are you all right, -ma’am?” he asked anxiously.</p> -<p>“Yes,” the actress assured him. “I’m all right.” She -returned to Tommy. “Do you like Mr. Armour?” she -asked.</p> -<p>The look on the boy’s face was all the answer she -needed.</p> -<p>“He’s—” Tommy struggled to express himself. -“He’s my very best friend in the world.” Unexpectedly, -his face began to cloud. “Couldn’t I please see -him now?” he begged. “Please?”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_169">169</div> -<p>“He’s had a hard day, ma’am,” the policeman murmured. -“I expect he’s pretty cold and hungry. If this -Mr. Armour isn’t here, I think I’d better get the boy -to the station house and start checking with Missing -Persons.”</p> -<p>“No, don’t!” Katherine Nelson cried sharply. “I -know where he is. I’ll take the boy to him.”</p> -<p>“I’m afraid I can’t just leave him with you, ma’am,” -the policeman explained apologetically. “I don’t even -know who you are.”</p> -<p>The actress stepped closer to the policeman. “Don’t -you recognize me?” she said. “I’m Katherine Nelson.”</p> -<p>The policeman’s eyes widened. “Oh, beggin’ your -pardon, ma’am.”</p> -<p>Katherine Nelson reached out gently for Tommy’s -hand. “He’s come to the right place,” she said, a soft -smile stealing over her face. “I’ll take him to Mr. -Armour, and I’ll assume responsibility.”</p> -<p>The policeman seemed relieved. “Then you know -Mr. Armour?”</p> -<p>“Oh, yes—” Katherine Nelson paused, and then -said, in a voice that was barely audible to Peggy, “You -see, Mr.—Armour is—is my husband.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_170">170</div> -<h2 id="c15"><span class="h2line1">XV</span> -<br /><span class="h2line2">“Curtain Going Up!”</span></h2> -<p>“... It isn’t a very pretty story,” Katherine Nelson -was saying. It was a little after ten the following -morning. Members of the cast, Oscar Stalkey, Craig -Claiborne, Peter Grey, and Pam Mundy were all sitting -on stage. They had reported, expecting a rehearsal, -but had been met instead by the producer -who told them that Katherine Nelson had an announcement -to make. Peggy, who had slipped out of -the theater the night before without being seen, was -curled up in a chair on the side of the stage, waiting -breathlessly for what she knew was coming.</p> -<p>“You see,” Katherine Nelson went on with a curious -half-smile, “Tom Agate and I were married.” She -waited patiently for the buzz of excitement to die -down. “As a matter of fact,” she added, “we still are. -But we’ve been separated for many years now. And -I’m afraid it’s been my fault.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_171">171</div> -<p>“Now wait a minute,” Tom interrupted, reaching -out for her hand. He was sitting beside her, looking -younger and fresher than Peggy had ever seen him. -“It’s no good your taking all the blame.” He turned to -his fellow cast members and began speaking in a low -tone.</p> -<p>“When Katherine and I were married,” he said, -“we were very young—Katherine was only sixteen—very -much in love and very happy. The whole world -seemed to be made especially for us. I was doing well -as a star in vaudeville and the future looked good.</p> -<p>“Eventually,” he went on, “we had a little girl. She -went wherever we did. You’ve all read stories about -how, in the days of vaudeville, people used to play -one-night stands across the country. Well, it’s perfectly -true. That’s exactly what we did. And we took -our little girl—Kathy, we called her—everywhere we -went.”</p> -<p>He paused, cleared his throat and went on:</p> -<p>“I guess Kathy wasn’t too strong, and that kind of -life was bad for her. In any event, she died when she -was two years old.” He said this last quickly, as if he -didn’t want to dwell on it. “We were both pretty -upset,” he said, staring fixedly at the row of darkened -footlights in front of him, “and I suppose we both lost -our heads.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_172">172</div> -<p>“That’s not quite true.” Katherine Nelson took up -the story. “What really happened was that I blamed -Tom for Kathy’s death. Oh, I know it was foolish of -me. But I felt there <i>had</i> to be some reason for her -going like that. I couldn’t bear to think that it just -happened. And so I talked myself into believing that -it was all Tom’s fault.” The actress took a deep -breath. “We parted. Tom kept on in vaudeville and -I—well, I went home to my father. But when he died, -the theater was the only thing I knew, so I started to -act. It had been ten years. I hadn’t kept in touch with -anyone. No one remembered me. Vaudeville was dying, -so I tried serious acting. You know the rest.”</p> -<p>“I went ahead doing the same things I’d always -done,” Tom explained. “I kept thinking Katherine -would come back to me and I wanted to be in a position -to take care of her. Vaudeville was on the way -out, so I tried the movies and radio. As long as I had -the hope that Katherine might need me, I kept working.</p> -<p>“Then fifteen years after she left me, she suddenly -was a star herself. I left the theater then—but not for -long. The servicemen needed me during World War -II. After the war, nobody needed me—until Peggy -said she did. And I saw that Katherine did too.”</p> -<p>Katherine Nelson shook her head. “I’d lost track of -Tom completely. I never expected to see him again. -Then, when he showed up in this cast, all the old -memories—the old hatred and pain—came back. At -first, I couldn’t face even seeing him. I still blamed -him, you see, and I refused to forget.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_173">173</div> -<p>She straightened her shoulders and looked for a -long minute at all of them. “I’m afraid I was pretty -unpleasant. I thought to myself, I must get rid of -that man! And so I tried every way I knew how to -force Oscar Stalkey to fire him. When that didn’t -work, I tried to shame Tom into going away of his -own accord.” She turned to him with a questioning -glance. “I still don’t know how you found the courage -to stick it out. I was so cruel.”</p> -<p>Tom smiled gently. “I knew you were miserable,” -he told her. “Wrapped up in the same kind of misery -that I had created for myself. I wanted to show you -a way out. I thought that if I stayed you’d see that -all this unhappiness was of your own making.”</p> -<p>“And I <i>did</i> see it,” Katherine Nelson said. “I saw it -a hundred times every day, but each time I shut my -eyes deliberately. It wasn’t until I met a little boy who -had come to see Tom—a little boy who told me what -Tom meant to him—that I finally realized what I had -done to myself—and all of you. I want to say to every -one of you, I’m sorry. And if it’s not too late, I’d like -to start rehearsals today, really working together.”</p> -<p>There was a silence. Finally, Oscar Stalkey stood -up. “Last night,” he said, “Tom Agate and Katherine -Nelson came to see me. We had quite a talk. Among -other things, we discussed what’s wrong with the way -we’re doing <i>Innocent Laughter</i>. The main point we -agreed upon is this. We’ve been putting too much -emphasis on the part of the mother. Actually, the -center of action lies with the older woman, the grandmother.” -He paused and clasped his hands behind his -back. “I asked Katherine if she would play that part -and her answer was yes. That means we’ll have to get -a replacement for the mother, but that shouldn’t be -too difficult.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_174">174</div> -<p>“Meanwhile, there’s another thing. Marcy Hubbard -has left the cast.” He grinned at them cheerfully. “All -in all, I think you’ll admit it was quite a night. She -asked to be relieved of her contract because she said -she had a very attractive offer from Hollywood. I was -more than happy to do what she asked because filling -in for Marcy was no trouble at all.” He turned to -Peggy with a smile. “Peggy,” he announced, “you’ll -be playing the part of the young daughter in <i>Innocent -Laughter</i>.”</p> -<p class="tb">There were telegrams from her family, from May -and Amy and Randy. There were flowers from Oscar -Stalkey and Peter, and a large bottle of perfume from -Craig Claiborne. And then, there was the audience. -Standing in the wings amid the bustling confusion of -stagehands and electricians, Peggy could hear them -file into the theater. Muffled sounds of conversation -and an occasional laugh filtered through the heavy -curtain.</p> -<p>“Five minutes,” came Mr. Fox’s insistent voice. -“Curtain in five minutes.” He hurried away on some -mysterious errand.</p> -<p>Peggy leaned her head against the backstage wall. -She was tired but exhilarated. The past ten days had -been the most wonderful of her life. Even the confusion -and the discomfort of the trip to Baltimore had -been fun. This was the theater as she had always -dreamed it, and she was about to step on stage in the -most important role of her life.</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_175">175</div> -<p>“Places everyone, please. Clear the stage.” Mr. -Fox’s voice was quiet, but it carried a ring of authority. -“Places for the first act.” He paused briefly beside -Peggy. “You okay?” he asked. “Everything all right?” -Peggy nodded. “Good.” Mr. Fox grunted. “I hope you -break a leg,” he said and disappeared.</p> -<p>Peggy smiled to herself. She hadn’t heard that for -quite a while. In the theater it was considered a bad -omen to wish an actor good luck, and so, instead, you -told him you hoped something awful would happen -to him. Out in front there was an excited buzz as -the house lights flickered their warning.</p> -<p>Then, suddenly, out of the darkness beside her, a -voice spoke softly. “Hello, Peggy.” It was Katherine -Nelson.</p> -<p>Peggy turned and smiled. “Hello, Miss Nelson.” -She saw Tom standing beside his wife.</p> -<p>“We don’t have much time,” the actress said to -Peggy. “But before we go on, I want to tell you how -much we appreciate everything you did. Tom and I -know that you were the one who really brought us -back together.”</p> -<p>“I’m sure you didn’t know what you were doing,” -Tom said. “But that’s the way it turned out.”</p> -<p>“I’m glad,” Peggy said simply. “I’m glad for you -both.”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_176">176</div> -<p>“There’s another thing I have to thank you for,” -Katherine Nelson said. “Somehow tonight—with -Tom—I feel that I’m about to start my career all -over again.” She paused and shook her head. “No, -that’s not quite it. It’s that I’m about to begin a new -phase—a new life for myself....”</p> -<p>“And for me,” Tom said softly.</p> -<p>Before Peggy could answer, Mr. Fox was back. -“Curtain going up,” he whispered urgently. “Quiet, -<i>please</i>!”</p> -<p>Katherine Nelson detached herself from the -shadows, straightened her skirt, and stepped up for -her entrance. She turned and looked at Peggy and -Tom, gave them a quick wink, and pushed open the -door. The applause in the theater thundered out -when the audience recognized her.</p> -<p>Peggy hardly remembered the first act. Her lines -came automatically and she was too excited to know -whether it was going well or badly. By the second act, -that feeling had passed and she was beginning to -wonder. Her big scene—the one with Tom—was coming -up, and as she took her position behind the familiar -door, she had the same sensation of nervous fear -she had had the day she first tried out for Craig -Claiborne.</p> -<p>The lights dimmed and Peggy knew it was time. -With a trembling hand she pushed open the door and -looked out over the semi-darkened stage. A lone figure -was slumped in the chair by the fireplace. Peggy tip-toed -into the room, went over to the window, looked -out and sighed.</p> -<p>“‘Why did you come in so quietly?’” Tom said. -“‘You’re as furtive as a lady burglar tonight. What’s -wrong?’”</p> -<div class="pb" id="Page_177">177</div> -<p>“‘Oh!’” Peggy gasped. “‘I didn’t know anybody -was here.’”</p> -<p>“‘I’ll go if you like,’” came Tom’s reply.</p> -<p>Peggy moved over to him. “‘Oh, no! Please don’t! -There’s—there’s something I want to talk to you -about....’”</p> -<p>Suddenly all the nervousness, the worry, vanished. -It was all right. Peggy could feel it and, even more -important, she knew the audience could feel it too.</p> -<p>Completely poised, she sat down on the little footstool -beside Tom and stared into his face. He was -smiling at her. It was a good smile—strong, yet -gentle.</p> -<p>Peggy met his gaze and smiled back. This was the -moment she had always known would come. She was -glad it had come with Tom Agate.</p> -<div class="img"> -<img src="images/endpaper.jpg" alt="Endpapers" width="800" height="613" /> -</div> -<hr /> -<div class="img"> -<img src="images/back.jpg" alt="Back cover" width="500" height="402" /> -</div> -<h2 id="c16"><span class="h2line1">PEGGY ON THE ROAD</span></h2> -<p>Professional temperament and backstage jealousy confront -young Peggy Lane when she lands a bit part in the -road company of the hit comedy, <i>Innocent Laughter</i>. -Elated over winning the role, the aspiring actress quickly -learns that a good play does not necessarily spell success. -It takes good people too!</p> -<p>She aids in the search for a character actor to play the -male lead, feeling triumphant when she locates Tom -Agate, beloved but retired vaudeville trouper, who reluctantly -consents to audition. But Katherine Nelson, the -<i>prima donna</i> who is to star in the show, throws a temper -tantrum, claiming it beneath her dignity to play with a -“has-been” comedian, and demanding both Peggy and -Tom Agate be thrown out of the show!</p> -<p>The young girl, who all her life has dreamed of her -professional debut, is demoralized as she realizes that -theatrical rivalry can stifle the joy of creativity.</p> -<p>But she believes in Tom Agate, and her faith is vindicated -when she unravels a theatrical mystery which explains -the conduct of the arrogant star!</p> -<h3 id="c17"><i>Peggy Lane Theater Stories</i></h3> -<p class="center"><span class="sc">Peggy Finds the Theater</span> -<br /><span class="sc">Peggy Plays Off-Broadway</span> -<br /><span class="sc">Peggy Goes Straw Hat</span> -<br /><span class="sc">Peggy on the Road</span></p> -<h2>Transcriber’s Notes</h2> -<ul> -<li>Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.</li> -<li>In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)</li> -<li>Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.</li> -</ul> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Peggy on the Road, by Virginia Hughes - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEGGY ON THE ROAD *** - -***** This file should be named 55830-h.htm or 55830-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/8/3/55830/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Peggy on the Road - Peggy Lane Theater Stories, #4 - -Author: Virginia Hughes - -Release Date: October 27, 2017 [EBook #55830] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEGGY ON THE ROAD *** - - - - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -[Illustration: _Peggy read with mounting conviction and assurance._] - - PEGGY LANE THEATER STORIES - - - - - _Peggy on the Road_ - - - By VIRGINIA HUGHES - - Illustrated by Sergio Leone - - - GROSSET & DUNLAP _Publishers_ - NEW YORK - - (c) GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC., 1963 - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - - MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - - - CONTENTS - - - 1 The Break of a Lifetime 1 - 2 Katherine Nelson 16 - 3 The Inner Sanctum 30 - 4 "Innocent Laughter" 41 - 5 Tryouts 52 - 6 "Why Don't You Quit?" 66 - 7 Peggy Turns Detective 76 - 8 The Search 86 - 9 The One-Eyed Giant 103 - 10 Tom Agate 114 - 11 A Star Comes Back 125 - 12 Tom's Tryout 139 - 13 The Ordeal 148 - 14 The Secret 157 - 15 "Curtain Going Up!" 170 - - - - - PEGGY ON THE ROAD - - - - - I - _The Break of a Lifetime_ - - -With a grateful sigh Peggy Lane lowered her aching feet into the -delicious warmth of a dishpan filled with hot water, bath crystals, and -Epsom salts. In other rooms exactly like hers throughout the big -brownstone house near New York's Gramercy Park, half a dozen hopeful, -equally tired, but determined young girls about Peggy's age were doing -the same thing. - -At the Gramercy Arms, a rooming house for young actresses in the middle -of Manhattan, this was a daily ritual known lightheartedly as the -"cocktail hour." - -Peggy sighed a second time, wiggled her toes in the steamy water, and -flopped back on the studio couch. - -"What a life," she murmured darkly. - -As if in answer to her complaint, the lights of New York began coming -on. One by one, they twinkled through her window, throwing a spangle of -diamonds across her dressing-table mirror. - -New York had been home for a year now, but the big city never failed to -thrill her--especially at dusk. Without taking her feet from the water, -Peggy turned to one side and gazed at a few faint tinges of red in the -west where the sunset was fighting a losing battle with the fabulous -illumination of the New York skyline. - -Propping a meditative chin in her hand, Peggy watched the magic -spectacle of Manhattan change gradually from a bustling city of towering -gray buildings and concrete canyons into the jeweled finery of a million -lights. It was like the shimmering moment in the fairy tale when the -drab little kitchen maid turns into a beautiful princess. Or at least -that was the way Peggy always thought of it. - -Once, when she was still new in New York, she had made the mistake of -trying to explain all this to a very serious young man who was a -second-year student at a nearby college. The young man had stared at her -uncomfortably for a moment, then changed the subject. But Peggy wasn't -disturbed. She was fond of her own version, even though she knew it was -hopelessly romantic. - -Well, why not? Half-lying on the bed with her feet stuck into what was -now a lukewarm basin of water, she was convinced that she was right and -he was wrong. She thought of the young man's earnest face and broke into -a grin. Despite herself she laughed out loud. - -The cheerful sound filled the darkening room. Paddling her feet happily -in the water, she threw her head back against the pillow and sighed a -third time. - -"What a life!" She breathed ecstatically. Suddenly full of vitality -again, she sat up and leveled a pair of clear hazel eyes over the city, -now throbbing with the muted sounds of early evening traffic. "New -York," she announced in a grave voice to the open window and empty room, -"you don't care about me right now. You've never even heard of me. But -some day you will. You'll see!" - -It was quite a dramatic speech for her to make, but then Peggy Lane was -very young and very determined to become a great actress. - -Outside her window, the city took the news of Peggy's intended conquest -calmly. Somewhere a lone taxicab gave a derisive toot on its horn as it -squealed to a stop to pick up a fare. Peggy mentally stuck out her -tongue at the driver and settled back to make plans for tomorrow. But -before she could get really comfortable, an enthusiastic spatter of -applause came from the doorway. - -"I declare, honey," drawled a familiar voice, "that's the prettiest -speech I ever did hear. You always talk to yourself in the dark like -that?" - -Light flooded the room, and Peggy saw her friend, Amy Shelby Preston, -framed in the door. Amy, a striking ash blonde and a product of Pine -Hollow, North Carolina, had been pulled to New York by the same magnet -that had drawn Peggy. The two girls had met on their first day in the -city, liked each other on sight, and decided to room together this year. - -Peggy struggled to a sitting position and blushed furiously. "I--I was -just going over some lines for a play," she explained lamely. - -Amy flashed her a knowing smile as she went over to a tiny sink hidden -from the rest of the room by a Japanese screen. "What's the name of the -play?" she asked. "_Stage-Struck?_" - -Peggy bunched up a throw pillow, but Amy raised her hands in surrender. -"Don't shoot," she pleaded. "You heave that thing at me and I'll never -get up, I'm that tired." - -Peggy hitched herself to the edge of the studio couch and began to towel -her legs vigorously. "You relax," she ordered. "I'll fix everything." - -Amy collapsed wearily on the bed, content to watch Peggy wait on her. -"Well?" Peggy demanded eagerly. Amy had just finished a job filming a -television commercial for the Bob Jordan show. "Did you get to meet Bob -Jordan?" - -Amy threw back her head and laughed. "Bob Jordan's already done the show -in Hollywood. It's just the commercial they're doing in New York." - -"But doesn't he want to see it?" Peggy asked as she poured bath crystals -into Amy's dishpan. - -Amy shook her head. "Not this one. Even if he wanted to, he'd never be -able to find the studio." Studio space in New York was at a premium, and -as a result, many television commercials were filmed in the most -unlikely places. - -Peggy laughed. "Where'd they do it?" - -"You won't believe this," Amy said wonderingly, "but I don't know. I -couldn't find it again for worlds. All I know is that I had to take a -subway for hours and then a bus till I got to the end of the line. -Finally I had to wait for a Transcontinental Broadcasting Company car to -pick me up and take me to something that looked like a converted garage -way out at the end of Brooklyn." - -"I know the place," Peggy interrupted. "That's the Greenside Studio. I -did an audition there once. It's a converted stable." - -"It's still a stable as far as I'm concerned," Amy replied. She hugged -her arms closer to her body. "Brrr! Was it ever cold!" - -"Get into something warm," Peggy urged. She looked at Amy critically. -"Why did you wear that thin dress? You know what those television -studios are like." - -"It's the best dress I own," Amy said as she rummaged through her -closet. "I wanted to make an impression." - -Peggy shook her head and tossed over a bulky woolen bathrobe. "Here, -take this," she commanded. "It belongs to my cousin David, but I -borrowed it. And hurry up! I want to hear what happened." - -"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you, honey," Amy said as she -struggled out of her dress. "But you just won't give me a chance." - -Peggy sat down and tucked her legs under her. "All right, go on," she -said patiently. "I'm listening." - -"Well, first of all," Amy said, poking a tentative foot into the dishpan -on the floor, "it was only a thirty-second commercial. My, that feels -good. I declare, I'm ten degrees warmer already." She looked around -vaguely. "Now where was I...." - -"You were saying it was only a thirty-second spot." - -"That's right. With General Refrigerator sponsoring the Bob Jordan show, -I counted on having a couple of lines to say. Something like, 'Oh, Edna! -I've got the most exciting news! General Refrigerators now come in a -whole sunburst of dreamy colors from pastel pink to leafy green!'" Amy -dropped the rapturous look on her face and stared solemnly over at -Peggy. "You know the kind of thing they make you say." - -Peggy nodded wordlessly. - -"Anyway," Amy went on, "soon as I got there, they sent me over to -make-up. I got in the chair, closed my eyes, and waited for them to put -cold cream over my face." - -"Never mind that," Peggy said, "get on with the rest of it!" - -"But that's the important part!" Amy protested. "That's when I knew it -was the beginning of the end!" - -"Goodness," Peggy said. "It sounds serious. What happened when you had -your eyes closed?" - -"I heard somebody tell me to stick out my arm." - -"What!" - -"It's the living truth, honey. Honestly, I thought they were going to -give me a vaccination or something. But then the make-up girl rubbed -cream on my hand and took the polish off my fingernails. When she was -through, I asked if she wasn't going to do anything else, and she said -no. She said I was ready to go on camera." - -"But only your arm was made up?" - -Amy nodded emphatically. "Up to my elbow." - -"Then what was your part in the commercial?" - -"A _hand_!" Amy wailed. She looked as though she were about to burst -into tears. "I played the part of a _hand_ on the Bob Jordan commercial. -All they wanted me to do was open the refrigerator door!" Amy thumped -the couch in frustration. "Here I thought they wanted an actress who -could read lines and all, and all they wanted was a hand! Why, anybody -with five fingers could have done it!" She paused and looked sheepishly -at Peggy. "Oh, Peggy, I'm so ashamed!" - -Peggy jumped up and went over to her roommate. "Whatever for?" she -asked. "It was just a job." - -Amy shook her head and blinked. "You don't understand--Oh, Peggy!" - -"Come on, now," Peggy soothed. "Tell me the whole story." - -Amy sat perfectly still for a moment, trying to fight back the tears. -Suddenly both tears and story came out in a rush. "When I first heard -about getting a part in the commercial"--Amy gulped--"I got all excited. -I wrote home and told Mama to watch me on the Bob Jordan show." - -Suddenly Peggy understood. She knew Pine Hollow, North Carolina, was a -tiny place. Amy's mother was almost sure to tell everyone about her -daughter's big television debut. Next week at air time, half the -population would be glued in front of their sets, waiting to see Amy's -face. - -"Everyone will be looking for me," Amy went on mournfully. "And all -they're going to see is my--my hand! What am I going to tell them?" - -"The truth," Peggy said simply. - -Amy looked up in despair. "Oh, I couldn't!" she breathed. "Mama would be -the laughingstock of Pine Hollow." Another thought seemed to strike her. -"Oh, my goodness!" she wailed. - -"What's the matter now?" - -"Daddy!" Amy cried, jumping to her feet. "What's _he_ going to say? You -know Daddy wasn't too keen on my coming to New York in the first place." - -Peggy smiled, remembering the endless discussions that had gone on in -her own family. "Fathers are funny that way," she observed. - -Amy threw her a trapped look. "You don't have any idea! He's always -thought my wanting to be an actress was silly. What's he going to say -now?" - -An idea began working in Peggy's mind. Grinning mischievously, she -scrambled to her feet and held out her hands. "Don't tell me," she -begged. "Let me guess." Clasping her hands firmly behind her back, Peggy -started to pace back and forth. Her usually cheerful face was lined with -a severe scowl. - -Amy burst into laughter at the sight and collapsed back on top of her -bed. "Oh, Peggy! Daddy doesn't look like that at all. He's really much -nicer." - -Peggy raised a hand threateningly. "Quiet!" she thundered in her best -imitation of a man's voice. - -Amy subsided obediently. "Yes, sir," she said meekly. - -Peggy cleared her throat and rumbled ahead. "This is disgraceful," she -intoned. "Here my daughter has spent a year in New York. She's gone to -dramatic school and she's been in summer stock. What does she have to -show for it, eh? I ask you." Peggy gave a fierce tug on an imaginary -mustache. "One year of solid work and the best she can do is to play the -part of a hand on a television commercial!" Peggy stomped down to the -far end of the room. "A hand!" She snorted. "If it's taken her a year to -get her hand on a television show, how long d'you suppose it'll take to -get the rest of her on? Eh? I ask you!" - -Peggy wanted to continue, but Amy was laughing too hard. "You're almost -right." Amy gasped between giggles. "Only he'd never come right out and -say it like that." - -"Then why don't you do it yourself?" Peggy cried gaily. - -"Me?" Amy seemed astonished by the idea. - -"Sure," Peggy said eagerly. "Tell them exactly what happened, but treat -the whole thing as a joke. Get them on your side." Peggy sat down beside -Amy and spoke seriously. "I really mean it, Amy," she said. "If you -laugh about it, they will too. And besides," she added, "they'll admire -you for your determination." - -Amy looked at her hopefully. "You think so?" - -"Of course," Peggy assured her. - -Amy began giggling again. - -"Now what?" - -"I just thought of something Daddy once said to me. He said the -important thing was to get my foot in the door. Now I can tell him that -maybe I haven't got my foot in yet, but at least my hand's there." - -The two girls laughed together. "That's the spirit!" Peggy chuckled. -"Don't give up the ship! That'll be our motto!" - -"Rah! Rah! Rah!" Amy cheered, applauding excitedly. - -"Sssh!" Peggy cautioned. "We're making too much noise." - -"You sure are," came a resonant voice from the door. "When does the -plane leave for Hollywood?" - -"Hollywood?" Amy asked blankly, whirling around to stare at the -commanding figure before her. - -May Berriman closed the door and advanced into the room. Years ago, May -had been a successful character actress on Broadway, but when she had -left the stage she had taken over the management of the Gramercy Arms. -The girls who stayed at the Gramercy Arms were, for the most part, -struggling young actresses like Peggy and Amy. With her wide knowledge -of the theater and her vast common sense, May was more than just a -landlady to "her girls." She was almost a second mother to them, -presiding over their hopes and fears, their triumphs and failures, their -good times and their squabbles with an even-handed justice that combined -equal doses of a sharp tongue and a soft heart. - -May picked her way through the clutter of the girls' room and sat down -on Peggy's bed. Peggy never tired of watching May's movements. They were -so unconsciously graceful, so sure and poised. They were, Peggy knew, -the result of years of training and hard, disciplined work. - -"Of course," May was saying to Amy, "from the hall you two sounded like -the cheering section at a football game. I couldn't imagine what had -happened. I was sure it was a Hollywood screen test at the very least." - -"Not yet." Peggy smiled. "That's a long way off." - -Amy looked out the window dreamily. "You never can tell," she said -hopefully. "Why, the phone could ring any minute!" She turned to May for -support. "Isn't that true?" she demanded. "A big producer can see you -one day and the next day you're out in Hollywood. It happens all the -time." - -"Only in your imagination, dear," May said dryly. "I'd advise you not to -hold your breath until that phone call comes. Oh, by the way," she -added, turning to Peggy, "somebody tried to get you about an hour ago." - -Peggy straightened up. "Was there a message?" she asked. - -May shook her head. "No message, but she left a name." - -"Oh. A she?" - -An amused smile softened May's face. "I hope it's not too much of a -shock. It was a girl named Pam Mundy. She said she knew you from summer -stock." - -"Pam!" Peggy cried excitedly. "I had no idea she was in New York. What -fun! Is she going to call back?" - -"She said she'd get in touch with you this evening. Is she an actress?" - -"Not really," Peggy said. "She's more interested in the production end. -She saw some of our shows up at Lake Kenabeek last summer, and often -discussed the problems with Richard Wallace, our producer." - -"A lady producer!" Amy exclaimed in surprise. "I thought all producers -were men." - -"Most of them are," May said. "But there's no law against a girl trying -it." - -"Maybe she's doing a show," Amy cried suddenly, "and she's got a part in -it for you." - -Before Peggy could answer, the buzzer over their door let out a squawk. -"Telephone!" Amy breathed, hurling herself at the door. "Who's it for?" -she yelled down the hall. Each floor of the Gramercy Arms was serviced -by a single telephone shared by all the girls on the floor. - -"For Peggy!" came the answer. "It's a man!" - -"Well, at least we know it isn't Pam Mundy," Peggy said, as she drew on -her bathrobe. - -"It's probably Randy," Amy said. - -Peggy nodded and disappeared into the corridor. Randy was Randolph Clark -Brewster. Peggy had met him when she first came to New York and had been -seeing him ever since. In the early days he had more or less taken her -under his wing and had guided her first faltering steps in that actor's -nightmare known as "the rounds." - -Doing the rounds meant mapping out a systematic campaign of personally -seeing every producer, actor's agent, and casting director in town. It -was tedious, foot-wearying work, but it was necessary. Peggy learned -soon enough that you couldn't simply send a picture and a note, and then -sit back, and expect the calls to come in. You had to keep knocking on -doors, reminding people of your existence, hoping that sooner or later -somebody would remember you and say, "Why don't we try that girl who was -in here this morning? She might be right for the part." - -She still remembered the morning she had made her first rounds with -Randy. They had agreed to meet outside the Gramercy Arms at -eight-thirty. Right on the dot, she saw Randy's tall, lanky figure swing -along the sidewalk, move toward her, and stop in undisguised dismay. - -In her eagerness to make a good impression, Peggy had put on a dress -that was far too sophisticated for her. She had plastered make-up all -over her face, complete with mascara, and covered her eyelids with a -heavy film of dark green, which she fancied went well with her coloring -and dark chestnut hair. - -Randy took one look and shook his head. "No, Peggy. That won't do at -all," he had said gently. - -"Why not?" Peggy had replied. "You said the important thing was for them -to notice me." - -Randy tried to cover up a grin by rubbing a hand over his jaw. "They'll -notice you all right," he said. "In fact, they'll never forget you." He -took her hand and led her up the steep steps of the brownstone house. -"Let's go inside and sit down awhile," he suggested. - -Peggy followed him obediently to the tiny sitting room off the entrance -hall. She listened carefully as Randy told her how important it was to -let her fresh young beauty speak for itself. He explained that she was -not yet ready to play sophisticated, older women, and that it was -useless to try. He got her to go upstairs, rub off the make-up, and -change into a simpler dress. At first Peggy had been furious, but later -she learned that he was right. - -Now Peggy hurried eagerly down the corridor. It would be good to talk to -Randy again. She picked up the telephone. "Hello." - -A man's voice came from the other end. It wasn't Randy. "Hello. Is this -Miss Peggy Lane?" - -"Speaking." - -"My name is Peter Grey. I'm with the Oscar Stalkey office. Miss Pam -Mundy suggested I give you a ring." - -Peggy caught her breath. Oscar Stalkey was one of the biggest producers -in New York. His new play, _Innocent Laughter_, had opened to rave -reviews a few weeks earlier. Already it was impossible to get tickets. -Everyone in New York wanted to see it. - -"Yes?" Peggy answered in a shaking voice. - -"Well, it's quite simple, really." The voice went on in a matter-of-fact -tone. "We're getting ready to cast the road companies of _Innocent -Laughter_, and Miss Mundy suggested you for a general understudy. -There'd also be a small speaking part. It's a national tour and you'd be -expected to sign for a minimum of six months. Will you be available?" - -For a moment Peggy couldn't speak. She just sat and stared helplessly at -the telephone two inches from her nose. - -"Hello, hello?" came the voice from the other end. "Are you still -there?" - -"Yes," Peggy said in a voice she didn't recognize. - -"We're trying out a number of people tomorrow. Can you be at the Stalkey -office at ten?" - -"At ten," Peggy repeated mechanically. - -"Yes. Then we can expect you?" - -"Oh, yes," Peggy said. "I'll--I'll be there." - -"Thanks. Good-by." - -The phone went dead in her hand. It took Peggy several seconds to lift -the receiver back into its cradle. - -"_Innocent Laughter!_" she murmured to herself. "Me, in _Innocent -Laughter_!" Suddenly she couldn't stand it another minute. She raced -back to her room at the far end of the hall, laughing as she ran. If she -could land the part, it was the break of a lifetime! - - - - - II - Katherine Nelson - - -It took a touch of May's common sense to bring Peggy back to reality. -"You don't have the part yet," she cautioned. "So don't count on it." - -"Oh, but, May," Amy protested, "why else would they call her? I'm sure -Peggy's got it." - -"Did he come right out and make you an offer?" May asked. - -"No," Peggy admitted. "He said they were interviewing a number of girls -tomorrow. That's all." - -"Well, then," May said. "You see?" - -"I don't care," Amy declared stoutly. "This it still the biggest break -either one of us has had in a year." - -"I didn't say it wasn't," May said. "I'm just trying to get Peggy to -realize what she's up against. Nobody's going to hand her that part on a -silver platter. She's got to go in there tomorrow and earn it." - -Peggy moved nervously to the window and pulled back the curtain. "If -only I knew a little more about the play," she murmured. "I don't even -know what kind of a part I'm supposed to try out for." She walked over -to her bed and sat down despairingly. "I should have asked when I had -the chance, but I guess I was too excited. I didn't even think!" - -"Now, now," May said soothingly. "Don't work yourself up into a fit. How -much do you know about _Innocent Laughter_?" - -"Nothing," Peggy said dispiritedly. "Absolutely nothing except that it's -the biggest hit of the season." - -"What time is it?" Amy cried suddenly. "Maybe we could see it tonight!" - -"Not a chance," May said emphatically. "You wouldn't be able to get -tickets." - -"Standing room?" Amy suggested hopefully. - -May looked at her watch and shook her head. "Too late." - -"Oh dear!" Peggy started to get up, but May pushed her firmly back down -on the studio couch. - -"You sit down, young lady," she ordered. "There's no point in worrying -about something you can't help. Besides, I think I can give you some -idea of the play." - -"You can?" Peggy cried eagerly. "Oh, May, you're an angel!" - -"Flattery will get you nowhere," May said. "Just sit back and listen." -Peggy and Amy settled down obediently and waited. - -"First of all," May began, "_Innocent Laughter_ has only four parts for -women." She ticked them off one by one. "There's the lead, a brilliantly -successful career woman living in New York, who decides one day to try -to recapture her youth. Then there's a wonderful part--the woman's -mother, a shrewd old gal who's made a fortune in real estate out West, -and who hasn't seen her daughter in years. The third big part is the -career woman's daughter. She's a young girl who's been sent to finishing -school in Europe, and hasn't seen _her_ mother in years, except for -brief vacations." May looked around inquiringly. "All clear so far?" - -"You mean there are three generations--the grandmother, the mother, and -the daughter?" Amy asked. - -May nodded. "You've got the picture." - -"What happened to all the men?" Peggy asked. - -"Ah, now we're getting to it," May said. "The grandfather--that's the -old gal's husband--disappeared years ago. He left home because he said -he couldn't stand his wife's domineering ways. The mother's husband is -dead, and the daughter, of course, doesn't have any husband yet." - -"How about the story?" Amy demanded. "What's that all about?" - -"The situation is simple," May explained. "The three generations meet in -New York. The grandmother wants a last fling. She's after good times and -plenty of them. The mother, as I've said, is trying to find romance -again." - -"And the young daughter?" Amy asked. - -May shrugged. "The daughter isn't sure what she wants. She's in a sort -of experimental mood about life. Very young, very sweet, and full of -vitality." - -"What happens after they all get together?" Amy asked. - -"Oh, they make a mess of everything," May said. "Things go from bad to -worse until suddenly, out of the blue, who should turn up but the -grandfather!" - -"The one who disappeared years ago!" Amy said. - -"Right," said May. - -"What's he been doing all those years?" - -"Oh, this and that," May replied airily. "He's been knocking around the -world a good deal and making a lot of money. Anyway, he walks in on the -three women and takes over. He straightens out the mother's life, saves -the young daughter from marrying a dull man, and makes his wife fall in -love with him all over again." - -"It sounds like a great part," Peggy remarked. - -"Doesn't it?" May agreed. "Anyway, that's about all there is to it. Not -a second _Hamlet_, I'll admit, but a good, solid comedy." - -"Wait a minute," Amy interrupted. "You've only mentioned three women. -Who's the fourth?" - -"A tiny part," May said. "A schoolgirl friend of the young daughter. She -appears in one scene in the first act." - -"And that's Peggy?" Amy asked. - -May nodded. "Probably. That and understudying the daughter." - -Amy sighed. "Oh my," she said. "Wouldn't you just love to play the -daughter?" - -"Stop dreaming," May counseled. "Oscar Stalkey couldn't afford to take a -chance with an unknown in a part like that." May turned and walked over -to Peggy. "Now look, Peggy," she said in a quiet, reassuring voice, -"when you walk into that office tomorrow, don't try to pretend you're an -experienced actress. Oscar Stalkey's been around a long time and he'd be -able to see right through your pose." - -The older woman sat down and folded her hand over Peggy's. "Do you -remember that time when Randy told you to be yourself and not try to act -as if you were ten years older?" - -Peggy smiled and nodded. - -"It was the best advice you could get," May went on. "If you follow it -tomorrow, the rest will take care of itself. You're a good actress, -Peggy. You have a lot of promise. He'll be able to see that." May got up -slowly and drifted over to the window. "I used to know Oscar Stalkey -pretty well," she said. "He's a strange mixture of a hard-boiled -Broadway producer and a sentimental little boy. He's been in show -business over thirty years, and he still thinks the theater is the most -wonderful thing in the world." - -"So do I!" Peggy breathed. - -May turned and smiled. "Good. Then you two ought to get along -beautifully. Now," she said, moving to the door in a brisk, businesslike -manner, "have you had dinner yet?" - -"Oh, no, May!" Peggy pleaded. "I'm too excited. I couldn't eat a bite." - -May's smile vanished. She pointed to the door commandingly. "Out you -go," she said. "We can't have you meeting Oscar Stalkey looking pale and -haggard. The program for the rest of the evening includes a good dinner, -a long hot bath, and early to bed." May paused and advanced a step -toward Peggy. "And try not to worry too much." - -Peggy smiled and nodded. "All right," she said. "I'll try." - -"Good. When you push open the door of Oscar Stalkey's office tomorrow, I -want you to look like a million dollars--rested and confident you're -going to get the part." - - -At precisely ten o'clock the following morning, Peggy Lane stood before -the plain frosted-glass door of Oscar Stalkey's office, feeling rested, -alert--but not at all sure of herself. In fact, what she felt was dread. -It was exactly like the time when she was seven years old, and had to -appear in the school Christmas pageant as one of the angels who led the -shepherds to the manger. She still remembered her two lines: "This is -the place. See how the roof is bathed by the light of yonder star." -Chattering with the cold, her throat all lumpy with fear, and lonelier -than she had ever been in her life, she had waited in the wings for the -words that would bring her out on the stage. She had been sure she would -forget everything. Now she remembered what it had been like when at last -she had stepped into the brilliant warmth of the stage, sensing the -audience out front and the magic of the set behind her. She had read her -lines beautifully, and only regretted that she didn't have more of them. -At that moment, Peggy had decided to become an actress. That was a long -time ago. Smiling at the memory, she took a final breath and pushed -against the door. - -She stopped on the threshold in numbed surprise. - -Dozens of eyes swiveled around at her entrance. On all sides, the tiny -reception room was lined with young girls. There were tall, beautiful -girls with sleek hairdos and shiny patent leather hatboxes by their -sides. There were heavily made up girls whose eyes glittered coldly as -they surveyed the newcomer. There were a few girls she recognized. -Nobody was happy to see her. - -Peggy knew that this was the fierce competition of the theater. It was -part of the price you had to pay if you wanted to come to New York. -Tilting her chin defiantly, Peggy closed the door and went over to a -peroxide blonde who sat listlessly behind a desk. The blonde reached out -a hand for a sheet of paper. - -"Name?" she inquired in a bored voice. "Mr. Stalkey's interviewing by -appointment only." - -"Lane," Peggy replied in a clear voice. "Peggy Lane." - -The blonde ran a bright red fingernail down a list of names and stopped -about halfway. "Who sentcha?" she drawled with quick suspicion. - -Peggy frowned. "I don't ... what do you mean?" she stammered. - -The blonde pursed her mouth in disapproval. "What I'm trying to find -out, dearie," she said in a voice edged with the patient annoyance of -someone talking to a retarded child, "is how come you're here. Who made -the appointment for you?" - -Light dawned. "Oh! Mr. Grey. Mr. Peter Grey." - -The answer seemed to satisfy. "Okay." The receptionist dismissed Peggy -with a wave. "Find a seat." She returned to the magazine she had been -reading. - -Still feeling ill at ease, Peggy backed away from the desk and looked -around for a place to sit down. The chairs along one wall were all -filled. Opposite them there was a bench with just enough room if one of -the girls would move over. Nobody budged an inch. The silence was -oppressive. - -Suddenly making up her mind she was not going to stand around awkwardly, -Peggy moved over to the bench and planted herself in front of the small -space. - -"Excuse me," she said in her sweetest voice, "would you mind moving -over?" - -The girl who filled the spot Peggy wanted drew herself up in an -exaggerated shrug and slowly opened a space. - -"Thank you," Peggy said as she sat down. Her neighbor didn't even bother -to glance in her direction. - -The silence continued. - -Suddenly from behind the closed door that led into what Peggy assumed -was Stalkey's private office, she could hear voices. There was a -high-pitched burst, then a deeper rumbling answer. A woman and a man -arguing, Peggy thought. A third voice cut in, a resonant baritone. Two -men and a woman. - -There was a scream from the other room, followed by a crash, and the -woman's voice shouting, "No! No! No!" - -"None of that now," thundered the first man's voice. "I'm sick and tired -of your childish temper tantrums." - -"Temper tantrums!" came a screech. "How else can I act when you simply -refuse to listen to reason?" - -"Oh, come off it, Katherine!" the second man said. "Act your age." - -There was a stunned silence during which Peggy had a chance to look -around. Every girl in the reception room had her eyes glued to the door. -An air of excited expectancy hung over the office. Even the blond -receptionist had put aside her magazine in favor of the real-life drama -going on in the next room. - -Peggy heard the door bang open, and turning, saw before her one of the -great figures of the American stage. Katherine Nelson, a portrait of -elegance, stood framed in the doorway. - -[Illustration: _Katherine Nelson had been world famous for many years._] - -Katherine Nelson. Everyone knew of Katherine Nelson. She had been -world-famous for many years, at the very top of her profession. But -suddenly, about five years ago--nobody knew why--she had begun to slip. -For some reason, she chose her plays badly, and where once she had known -nothing but success, she had had to face the humiliation of failure. It -had been a long time since she had been on a stage in New York, or -anywhere else for that matter. She still had her great name, of course. -Katherine Nelson would always be a magnet, but there was no denying that -as a star she was fading. Other, younger actresses were moving up to -take the roles that would automatically have been hers a few years ago. - -It was well known that Katherine Nelson did not wear her years -gracefully. References to age sent her into towering rages that were the -delight of all gossip columnists, and the despair of those who had to -work with her. She stood now, not ten feet from Peggy, her magnificent -eyes flashing daggers. At first, Peggy felt a thrill at being so near a -famous person, but surprisingly that passed almost at once. Instead of -staring at her face, Peggy caught herself looking at Katherine Nelson's -hands as they gripped the door. - -They were like claws, Peggy thought. They were the hands of an old -woman. With a start, Peggy realized that despite her youthful figure and -carefully made-up face, Katherine Nelson could no longer play romantic -parts. - -All this passed through Peggy's mind in a flash, before her train of -thought was evaporated by a throaty voice that rolled out in accents of -anger. - -"You'll remember whom you're talking to, Oscar Stalkey! There's only one -Katherine Nelson in the theater, and if you're not aware of it, there -are hundreds and thousands of people who are. People who are prepared to -stand in line all night, if necessary, to get tickets to my plays. When -you've thought _that_ over and are willing to discuss matters more -intelligently, you may call me!" - -Shrugging into a magnificent silk-and-fur coat, Katherine Nelson swept -down between the two lines of awed young girls, exactly as if she were -making a grand exit from a stage. As a matter of fact, this was just -what she _was_ doing. It would have been effective, too, except for one -thing. Katherine Nelson had a toy poodle on a leash, and the little dog -took a sudden playful liking to Peggy. - -As his mistress passed Peggy, the tiny poodle wagged his tail and -trotted over. The unexpected shift in course forced Katherine Nelson to -stop. Frowning with annoyance, she yanked at the dog's leash. But -instead of following obediently, the poodle gave a couple of shrill yips -and scrambled up on Peggy's lap. - -Blushing with embarrassment, Peggy tried to get up and dislodge the -animal. "Down, boy," Peggy commanded, making a wild grab for her purse -which was slipping to the floor. - -The next instant, leash, purse, Peggy, and the poodle were hopelessly -entangled. Peggy sensed a commanding figure hovering nearby. Katherine -Nelson was staring down at her in blazing fury. - -Peggy attempted an apologetic laugh as she tried desperately to -straighten out the mess at her feet. Finally she got everything sorted -out and handed over the friendly poodle. - -"I'm sorry," Peggy said with a smile, offering the dog. "We sort of got -mixed up." - -Katherine Nelson jerked the poodle out of Peggy's hands rudely. "Clumsy -idiot!" she muttered. Spots of dull red showed in her face. - -Peggy felt herself coloring too, but for a different reason. "I really -didn't--" she stammered. "I'm awfully--" - -"Will you get out of my way?" Katherine Nelson blazed. - -Peggy backed away hastily, catching her heel against the side of the -bench as she moved. She flailed the air clumsily to keep from falling, -then sat down heavily. Her purse slipped to the floor again. - -Katherine Nelson threw her a disdainful look, swept on through the -reception room, and out the door. - -Peggy had never been so embarrassed in her life. She knew that every -girl in the room was laughing at her predicament. She only hoped that -Oscar Stalkey hadn't noticed. But when she stole a quick, shy glance at -the door, she saw a short, bald man staring at her owlishly through -heavy, horn-rimmed glasses. A cold cigar was clenched between his teeth. -Peggy recognized him at once from his pictures. It was Oscar Stalkey. -With a sinking heart, she realized numbly that she was ruined before she -even started. She had made a perfect fool of herself, and there wasn't -any point in staying. - -Staring straight ahead, Peggy got to her feet and headed for the door. -The walk seemed endless. She was about halfway there when a deep voice -growled out. - -"Hey! Where are you going?" - -Peggy stopped and turned slowly, her eyes widening in surprise. - -Oscar Stalkey was still standing in the doorway, but now he was pointing -a finger in her direction. "Come in here," he said. "I want to talk to -you." - -There were gasps of surprise from the other girls. Peggy swallowed once -and pointed to herself. "Me?" she asked in a voice that cracked. - -"Well, who'd you think I meant?" came the gruff answer. "Come in. I -haven't got all day." He stepped aside and motioned her to hurry. - -Still unable to believe what was happening, Peggy followed Oscar Stalkey -blindly into his office. - - - - - III - The Inner Sanctum - - -Four people were grouped in the office. There was Stalkey himself, -heavy-set and dynamic, hovering impatiently by the door. Behind him in a -corner lounged a rather disheveled man in his mid-forties who looked -vaguely familiar. A young man in his twenties, with a collegiate crew -cut, stood by the window. Beside him, behind the largest desk Peggy had -ever seen, sat Pam Mundy--the girl she had met during the summer. - -Pam seemed even more surprised than Peggy. Her eyebrows shot up in twin -crescents of astonishment at the sight of her friend coming through the -door. But she quickly regained her composure and threw Peggy a -reassuring smile and wink. - -Anyone seeing Pam perched behind the massive desk would have thought she -was the most important person in the room. Actually, she was Oscar -Stalkey's secretary, using his desk because the veteran producer seldom -sat in a chair if he could avoid it. All his business was conducted on -the run, in a restless course of constant pacing that was a little hard -to get accustomed to. The only reason he tolerated the desk at all was -because his wife had given it to him as a surprise years ago, and he -could never bring himself to get rid of it. But at the time, Peggy -didn't know this. She advanced into the room and looked around -uncertainly. - -The untidy man in the corner unwound his long legs from one side of his -lounge chair, and stared at Peggy with undisguised interest. The young -man by the window straightened up and greeted her with a pleasant smile. - -"Well, sit down, sit down," came the gravelly voice of Stalkey. "What's -your name?" - -"Peggy Lane." Peggy sat down on the edge of a chair near the desk. - -"Had much experience?" Stalkey was prowling along a row of bookcases -that lined the far wall of his office. - -There was a pause. Finally Peggy decided to be straightforward. "No, Mr. -Stalkey," she replied with a smile. "I'm afraid not much. A year of -dramatic school, a season of summer stock, a good off-Broadway role, and -a few walk-on parts." - -"That's all?" - -Peggy nodded. The rumpled man in the corner looked at her with surprise. -Stalkey merely grunted. "How'd you get on our list for an appointment?" - -Peggy glanced over at Pam. "I'm not sure," she said. "I got a phone call -last night from a Mr. Grey." - -The young man at the window nodded. "I'm Peter Grey," he announced. "I -got in touch with her, Oscar." - -"Why?" - -"Pam Mundy suggested it." - -All attention was now focused on the girl behind the desk. Pam took the -stares in stride. "I saw Peggy in stock last summer," she explained. -"I've seen what she can do, and I thought she might be right for the -understudy." - -Oscar Stalkey grunted a second time and padded over to the figure in the -chair. "What do you think, Craig?" he asked suddenly. - -Craig Claiborne! Peggy finally recognized him. He was the director of -_Innocent Laughter_ and would probably perform a similar job for the -road company productions. - -Claiborne shrugged noncommittally. "You were the one who asked her to -come in," he said. "What do you think?" - -"Well, at least she's honest," Stalkey grumbled as he shuffled off to -continue his endless pacing. He stopped and glared accusingly at Peggy. -"You've no idea," he said mournfully, "how many girls try to tell me -they've had years of experience." He threw up his hands in exasperation. -"They have the nerve--some of them--to stand up and tell me they've been -acting for twenty years when I know perfectly well they can't be more -than eighteen years old. Oh, well--" He broke off abruptly and moved -over to a position in front of Peggy. "The reason I asked you to step in -here," he said, "was because you looked like the most human person out -there." He gestured to the reception room in disgust. "That's the -biggest collection of artificial people I've seen in months. Where do -the casting agents dig them up?" He sighed and went on. "There was -something about your embarrassment when you had that run-in with -Katherine--" - -Craig Claiborne interrupted with a chuckle. "Don't tell me she tangled -with Katherine the Great?" he asked. - -"Tangled is the word," Stalkey said happily. "Peggy here ruined -Katherine's exit." - -Claiborne shook his head in mock dismay. "Oh, oh." - -"That's right." Stalkey nodded. He turned back to Peggy. "Tell me -frankly. You didn't know what to do when that happened, now did you?" - -Peggy smiled. "No, I didn't. I was a little frightened and terribly -embarrassed." - -"And a little awed, too?" Stalkey asked, almost eagerly. - -"Yes," Peggy admitted. "I guess I was." - -The producer rubbed his hands together with pleasure. "And that," he -said exuberantly, "is exactly the quality we want for the young -schoolgirl friend in _Innocent Laughter_. The only question is, are you -good enough to play the daughter--even as an understudy?" Stalkey looked -at Peggy searchingly, almost as if a careful examination of her face -could reveal the extent of her talent. - -It was an impossible question to answer. Peggy was saved from trying by -a telephone that jangled suddenly. - -Pam swooped down on it. "Yes?" she said crisply. "Who's calling?" She -listened for a moment, then covered the mouthpiece with one hand. "It's -Max Borden from Talent Incorporated," she said. "Do you want to speak to -him?" - -Stalkey nodded wordlessly, and lunged for the phone. "Hello," he rasped, -"Max?" He began to move agitatedly back and forth across the room, -cradling the telephone in his left hand. "Did you get him?" he asked -eagerly. - -There was a pause, and a look of frustration crossed Stalkey's face. -"Well, can't he get out of his contract?" he said. "Yeah, well, I'm -sorry too." Another pause. Stalkey used it to shift his cigar over to -the other side of his mouth. "Yeah," he grunted. "Yeah, I know. No, I -don't have the faintest idea. Think about it and call me back. If we get -any brain waves here at our end we'll let you know. G'by." He hung up -the receiver and stared moodily at the telephone as if it had done him -some personal injury. - -"Charlie Forsythe can't play the part," he announced. "He's tied up with -a movie contract." - -Charles Forsythe, Peggy knew, was one of the outstanding character -actors in America. Stalkey must have been trying to get him for the role -of the grandfather in _Innocent Laughter_. For the first time, she -realized it wasn't always too easy to cast a play. - -Oscar Stalkey apparently had forgotten Peggy's existence. "Any ideas?" -he rapped out. "We've got to settle this in the next few days." - -"What about Eddie Jarmin?" Craig Claiborne suggested. "I remember he did -something similar in _Bed of Roses_ a couple of years back." - -"Yeah," Stalkey said unenthusiastically. "He sure did and was he -terrible! No, thanks!" - -"There's always James Donohue," Claiborne said. - -"Yes, there is," Stalkey admitted. "When he remembers to show up for -rehearsal." He trotted over to the other side of the room in a burst of -agitation. - -"Why is it," he said to no one in particular, "that good, dependable -character actors are so hard to come by? I can reach out and put my hand -on half a hundred leading men and a thousand juveniles. But a character -actor!" He shook his head helplessly. "Oh, well...." - -Over by the window Peter Grey stirred restlessly. "You know," he said -with an almost apologetic laugh, "you may think I'm crazy, but I've got -an idea." - -"Let's have it," Stalkey shot back. - -Peter advanced toward the center of the room, speaking with mounting -excitement. "What we want," he said, "is a man with a sure sense of -comedy. Somebody with a breezy style and a good ear for laugh lines. But -even more than that, he's got to be able to move the audience. There's -that big scene with the daughter, for instance. That's got to be done -beautifully, with a great deal of tenderness." - -Stalkey snapped his fingers impatiently. "Sure, sure," he said. "We know -all that. But I'll settle for someone who can get us the laughs." - -"Why not get somebody who can do both?" - -Stalkey snorted. "Stop dreaming," he said. "They don't make them like -that any more." - -"There's one person who just might be able to do it," Peter said slowly. -"If we can get him." - -"Who?" - -Peter grinned. "This is the crazy part," he said. He paused as the -others waited expectantly. "Tom Agate," he finally blurted out. - -"Tom Agate!" Craig Claiborne said in a puzzled voice. "Isn't he dead?" - -Peter scratched the back of his head. "I don't think so," he said. "The -last I heard he was still living here." - -"Tom Agate," Oscar Stalkey murmured slowly. "Tom Agate." He spoke the -name a second time as if relishing the sound, then looked up at Peter -sharply. "How do you know about Tom Agate?" he demanded. "I thought only -us old-timers remembered him." - -Peter laughed. "Oh, I used to be crazy about him. My father took me to -see Tom Agate every time he played a USO show anywhere near where my -father was stationed during World War II." - -"Who," Pam asked almost shyly, "is Tom Agate?" - -Oscar Stalkey waved a hand in Pam's direction. "You see?" he demanded -with a wry smile. "There's fame for you, Tom Agate," he said, turning to -Pam, "was just about the most famous song-and-dance man in vaudeville. -You've heard stories about the good old days in the theater--about the -grand troupers who always went on to give a performance no matter how -they were feeling--" - -Peter put his hand over his heart melodramatically. "Even if they were -crying inside." - -Stalkey nodded. "Yeah, that's it. It sounds real corny today, but they -actually did it, and Tom Agate was one of the greatest." As he walked -back and forth, from one corner of the room to the other, his eyes -shining with excitement, Peggy suddenly saw what May Berriman meant when -she said that Oscar Stalkey had all the enthusiasm of a little boy. He -was in love with the theater, after thirty years still as stage-struck -as a newcomer. - -"Tom Agate," Oscar Stalkey was saying. "Why, I've seen that man hold an -entire audience in the palm of his hand for more than an hour." - -"What did he do?" Pam asked. - -"Do?" Stalkey frowned. "He was a performer. He sang songs, danced a -little." - -"Actually, he danced badly," Peter Grey said with a smile. - -Stalkey was forced to agree. "Yes, I guess he did. But that didn't make -any difference. He was a personality and the audience loved him." -Stalkey made another tour of his office. "That was his secret," he said. -"He understood people. He knew what made them laugh, and he knew how to -move them." Stalkey stopped abruptly as if struck by a thought. He -cocked his head to one side as if trying to recall something. "What was -the name of that song he always sang--it was his theme song, an Irish -ballad, I think--ah, yes, 'Kathleen Aroon' it was. He used to play the -banjo along with it." - -"Yes, but Oscar," Craig Claiborne objected, "he was just a -song-and-dance man. Even the movies he did were just filming his -vaudeville routines. He's never had any acting experience." - -"Acting experience, my foot!" Stalkey said. "What the dickens does that -mean? The man's been on the stage for most of his life!" - -"You've got to admit," Claiborne replied patiently, "that playing a -sustained role is a lot different from coming out for a few minutes -every night with a song or two and some jokes." - -"Oh, I know, I know." Stalkey brushed him away. "You may be right. But I -still think it's worth a chance. I'd like to hear him read for the -part." - -"I don't know," Claiborne said dubiously. "It's taking a big chance." - -"Not as much as you think," Stalkey said earnestly. "Besides, I bet -there are people all over this country who still remember Tom Agate and -would come to see him. His old vaudeville admirers, his movie and radio -audiences, the men he entertained during the war. He might be quite a -drawing card." He hopped over to Peter and clapped him on the back. - -"Peter," he chortled, "I think you've hit it." - -"If you can find him," Claiborne added. - -Stalkey nodded. "Do you think you can track him down?" he asked Peter -anxiously. - -Peter shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I'll certainly try." - -"You'll have to locate him within the next three days," Stalkey warned. - -"Meanwhile," Claiborne said, "we'd better contact Eddie Jarmin or Jim -Donohue. If this Agate fellow doesn't pan out, we'll have to fall back -on one of them." - -"Yes, I suppose so," Stalkey said mournfully. "Will you see to it, Pam?" - -Pam made a note of the request and then cleared her throat. "There's -another matter you've got to attend to," she said. - -Stalkey stopped in surprise. "What's that?" - -Pam pointed to the door. "You've got about two dozen young ladies -cooling their heels out there. Don't you think you'd better see them?" - -Stalkey clapped his hand over his forehead. "What a waste of time!" he -groaned. He turned and walked over to the door. - -"Wait a minute," Pam called out. "What about Peggy Lane?" - -Stalkey stopped and looked at Peggy for the first time since the phone -call. "Oh," he said, blinking at her as if she were a complete stranger. -"Oh, well, tomorrow morning, then," he said airily. - -"For what?" Peggy asked timidly. - -Stalkey wrung his hands impatiently. "For what?" he muttered. "To read, -of course," he said. "We want you to read for the general understudy." -He glanced over at Claiborne. "What time are we holding tryouts?" he -asked. - -"Nine-thirty," the director answered. - -"Nine-thirty," Stalkey said. "Be at the Elgin Theater at nine-thirty -tomorrow morning to read a scene from _Innocent Laughter_. Is that -clear?" - -Peggy nodded numbly. "Yes, sir," she said. - -"Good." Stalkey went over to the door and threw it open. "Thank you very -much," he said briskly. "That'll be all for now." - -Peggy gathered her purse and gloves, made her way unsteadily to the -door, passed down a double line of curious, envying stares, and finally -found herself outside by the elevator door. As she waited for it, she -wondered if she could get back to the Gramercy Arms without screaming -for joy. She had passed the first test. - - - - - IV - "Innocent Laughter" - - -"Ground floor." - -The elevator bumped to a halt and discharged its load of passengers into -the busy lobby. Still numb from the half hour she had spent in Oscar -Stalkey's office, Peggy allowed herself to be pulled along by the crowd -that surged toward the building entrance. - -The big clock above the main doors registered a little after eleven--too -early for lunch and too late to make any more appointments for the -morning. Peggy idly wondered what to do next. Her first impulse had been -to go directly to the Gramercy Arms with the news. But Amy was out and -May was probably busy. Besides, at eleven o'clock on a weekday morning, -the big house would be almost deserted. The girls nearly all were on -jobs or were out busily hunting them. - -Suddenly, Peggy felt strangely lonely. The need for someone to talk to -became overwhelming. She paused by the public telephone booths near the -revolving door and thought of calling home to Rockport, Wisconsin. She -could almost hear her mother at the other end of the line, excited and -happy to hear the good news. It would be good to hear her familiar voice -again. - -On the other hand, wasn't it silly to call now before she really knew -about the part? Wouldn't it be better to wait until she was sure and not -make the same mistake Amy had made with her mother? - -Peggy was still standing indecisively beside the telephone booth when -the elevator behind her clanged open to release a second wave of people. -The flood engulfed her and flowed on to the door. - -"Watch it, lady," growled an irritated voice. "You're blocking the -road." - -Hastily Peggy moved out of the way. "Sorry," she said, backing into a -delivery boy on his way into the building with a full load of packages. - -"Why don'tcha look where yer going?" the delivery boy muttered, glaring -balefully at her over the top of his packages. - -"Sorry," Peggy murmured again. She decided she'd better get out of the -line of traffic, but as she turned toward one of the side doors, a hand -reached out and held her back. - -"Excuse me," said a familiar voice, "but can you use the services of a -good, reliable Boy Scout? I'm kind, honest, trustworthy, true--" - -Peggy spun around with a gasp of surprise. "Randy! What are you doing -here?" - -The tall, lean figure of Randolph Brewster, the young playwright Peggy -had met when she first came to New York, hovered over her. "I sent my -spies out early this morning." He laughed. "They tracked you down to -this place." He moved closer and took her arm. "Well?" he asked -expectantly. - -Peggy looked at him sharply. "Who told you about _that_?" she demanded. -"Honestly, Randy, can't a girl have any secrets?" - -"Nope," he answered good-naturedly. "Not from me, anyway. All right," he -said. "I'll tell you how I know. Amy told me." - -"Amy!" - -"Sure. She was on the phone at a quarter past eight this morning, -talking thirteen to the dozen. She was convinced that you'd get a chance -to read for the part. Did you?" - -Peggy's breathless nod gave him the answer. Randy grinned and gave her -arm an enthusiastic squeeze. "That's wonderful, Peggy! When do you -audition?" - -"Tomorrow morning at nine-thirty." - -Randy pushed her ahead of him into the revolving door. "Where are we -going?" she asked over her shoulder, but the door had already closed -behind her. The next instant she found herself on the street, waiting -for Randy. "You seem in an awful hurry," she said as Randy emerged. -"What's up?" - -"You'll see," Randy said as he reclaimed her arm. "Amy's got a surprise -lined up for you." - -"Can't you tell me what it is?" - -Randy smiled. "I suppose so. Amy's been waiting in line outside the -Elgin Theater since nine o'clock this morning. She's determined to get -standing-room tickets for this afternoon's performance of _Innocent -Laughter_." - -Peggy stopped. "Not really!" She gasped. - -"Yes, really." Randy urged her on. "Come on, let's tell her the good -news." - -A few moments later, they turned the corner and walked down one of the -side streets that run into Broadway. They were now in the heart of New -York's theater district, where famous names stared down at them from -every side. When Peggy first had come to New York, she had envisioned -theaters stretching along the entire length of Broadway. It had been -quite a surprise to discover that nearly all of New York's theaters were -actually located on rather shabby-looking side streets. But there they -were, with one block housing as many as half a dozen play-houses, each -with its tremendous sign and a marquee jutting out over the pavement. - -Under one of the marquees, about halfway down the block, stood Amy. She -saw them coming and ran toward them, waving a small envelope -triumphantly. - -"I got them!" she cried. She came to a stop beside Peggy and stared at -her hopefully, eyes sparkling in anticipation. "Now, honey," she said, -"you've got to tell me it's been worth it, standing all this time. -You're going to read for the part, aren't you?" - -[Illustration: _Amy waved a small envelope triumphantly._] - -Peggy smiled and nodded. "Tomorrow morning," she said. "I can't believe -it yet--" - -Amy let out a whoop and grabbed Peggy's hands. "Oh, honey, I could kiss -you, I'm so happy." She looked at Randy proudly. "You see!" she -demanded. "Didn't I tell you?" - -"You sure did," Randy admitted with a grin. "Even at a quarter past -eight this morning. I could have cheerfully wrung your neck for waking -me up!" - -"It did you good to get up," Amy told him. "Now you've got to tell me -all about it," she said to Peggy. "Let's take a walk, have a nice lunch, -and then get to the theater early." - -"But aren't you tired, Amy?" Peggy protested. "You've been standing here -all morning." - -Amy laughed her tinkling, infectious laugh. "After a year of looking for -work in New York," she said, "my feet are used to it." She wedged -between Peggy and Randy, took both of them by the arm, and swung down -the street toward Broadway. "Come on, you all," she said cheerfully. "I -want to hear everything that happened...." - -At six o'clock that evening, the three of them were sitting in Tony's -Place, a postage stamp-sized restaurant near the Gramercy Arms that -specialized in heaping plates of spaghetti, smothered with rich, -aromatic meat sauce. The spaghetti was ordered and on its way. -Meanwhile, they were munching on crusty Italian bread with sweet butter. - -"Whew!" Amy exclaimed wearily, as she speared a pat of butter from the -iced butter dish in the center of the table. "It sure is good to sit -down. What did you think of the play?" - -Peggy shook her head enviously. "Diana Peters was awfully good, wasn't -she? The way she played that scene with the old grandfather, you could -tell what she was thinking and what she was feeling every minute. I -don't think I could ever do that--" - -"Oh, don't talk silly," Amy said, biting into a piece of bread. "That's -exactly the kind of part you _can_ play." - -"I don't know," Peggy replied dubiously. "What do you think, Randy?" - -Randy had been absorbed in thought ever since they left the matinee. At -that moment, he was chewing moodily on a crisp stalk of green celery. "I -wouldn't worry about that scene too much," he said. "You just said -yourself you knew what she was thinking and feeling every minute." - -"Yes, but--" - -Randy leaned forward, jabbing the stalk of celery in Peggy's direction. -"What _was_ she thinking?" he queried. "That girl in the play. Now don't -forget, she's in New York for the first time. She doesn't know her -mother very well and she's never even met her grandmother. What's she -looking for?" - -Peggy shrugged. "Excitement, I suppose. Life." - -Randy nodded emphatically. "That's it," he said. "In her mind, she sees -New York as a romantic fairy-tale city where people can live exciting -lives--" - -"If they know how," Amy interrupted. - -"Exactly," Randy said. "And the daughter in the play doesn't know how. -When she first comes on stage, she's hoping that her mother will tell -her. But her mother is too preoccupied with her own life to spend much -time with her daughter's problems. In fact, it never even occurs to her -that she has any." - -"And later on," Amy chimed in, "the daughter turns to her -grandmother--the one she's never met before. Again, the same thing -happens." - -"At that point," Randy said, taking charge of the conversation, "the -daughter realizes she's on her own. She decides the thing to do is to -fall in love. Unfortunately, the first man she meets is all wrong for -her. But she can't see it and neither can the others." - -"But the grandfather sees it," Amy said brightly. - -"Yes," Randy nodded. "He knows what she's doing and has a long talk with -her. On the surface it's very light and funny, but actually it goes -deeper than that. His granddaughter means a lot to the old man, and he's -trying the best way he knows how to give her the experience of his -years. He knows he can't lecture her--she's too stubborn for that, and -so they just sit by the fire and talk. They talk about life and growing -up. About families and the tremendous joy that life offers. All of -that." - -"You mean," Peggy said, "that the grandfather and the young girl are -getting to know each other as people, not just as relatives." - -Bandy slapped his hand down on the table. "That's exactly it," he said -approvingly. "It's a scene where two people start out as comparative -strangers and end up as close friends. Despite all the laugh lines, it's -a very tender moment--and that's the way it should be played." - -"You don't think I should try for comedy?" Peggy asked. - -Randy shook his head emphatically. "Everybody will be doing that," he -said. "If you offer them something a little different, they'll notice -you. Besides, the play is so well written that the comedy can take care -of itself." - -"All right," Peggy said. "I'll do it. But that's not the way Diana -Peters played it this afternoon." - -Randy frowned. "I know it," he said. "And that's been worrying me. Right -now _Innocent Laughter_ is being acted all wrong." - -Amy broke into a laugh. "Oh, Randy!" she cried. "Here's the biggest hit -on Broadway, and you say it's all wrong." - -"No, listen to me," Randy said, hunching over the table earnestly. -"Who's the central character?" - -"The mother," Amy replied promptly. "It's the biggest part." - -"It may be the biggest part," Randy said. "But the play doesn't hang -together that way." - -"Well, what's wrong with it?" Amy challenged. - -"I think the emphasis should be shifted to the two older people," Randy -replied. - -"You mean the grandmother and the grandfather?" - -"Right. Look at the mother. She's shallow at the beginning and just as -shallow at the end. She hasn't learned a thing. But the grandmother has. -After all, she decides to go back to the grandfather. You remember that -wonderful scene between the two of them in the second act?" - -"Yes," said Peggy. "I thought that was the best thing in the play." - -"I did too," Randy said. "You see, _Innocent Laughter_ deals with three -women who are being very foolish about their lives. The grandfather is -brought in to straighten them out. He succeeds with two of them, but -fails with the third." - -"Then why didn't they play it the way you think it should be done?" Amy -demanded. - -Randy shrugged. "It's hard to say, but my guess is they wanted a -glamorous star to play the part of the mother and had to tailor the -whole play around her. Don't misunderstand me. I think it's still a good -play, but it could be much, much better." - -"Maybe you're right," Amy said, brushing the bread crumbs to one side. -"But let's have a short intermission. Soup's on." - -Smiling genially, as he threaded his way past the tables in his crowded -restaurant, came Tony with the spaghetti. - -"Ahhh!" breathed Amy contentedly. "What a beautiful sight. I'm so hungry -I could eat miles of it." - -"Eat all you want," Randy told her airily. "Treat's on me tonight." - -"Oh, no," Peggy protested. "We're going Dutch, same as always." - -"Nothing doing," Randy said. "Tonight we celebrate." - -"Don't you think it's a little early?" Peggy said. - -Randy looked over at her and slowly shook his head. "No, I don't," he -said, reaching out for her hand. "Frankly, I don't think you can miss." - -Randy kept Peggy's hand in his until Tony came up to their table, -looking for a place to put the cheese. Finally Randy drew his hand back -and gave Peggy a wordless smile. - -It was nice to know everyone was so confident, Peggy thought to herself, -but she knew tomorrow wouldn't be easy. She glanced up at the clock over -the open kitchen in the rear. It read six-thirty. In fifteen hours, she -would be on the stage of the Elgin Theater, reading for the part of the -general understudy in _Innocent Laughter_. Just fifteen short hours! The -thought sent a shiver of dread and almost unbearable excitement running -down her back. Telling herself that tomorrow was still a long way off, -Peggy picked up a fork and tried to concentrate on Tony's wonderful -spaghetti. - -Why, she wondered miserably, had she ever thought she could be an -actress? Why hadn't she stayed home in Rockport and become a -schoolteacher as her father had wished? - - - - - V - Tryouts - - -Peggy was still thinking the same thing the following morning as she -walked up Broadway toward the Elgin Theater. The day had started off -badly with showers and sharp, gusty blasts of wind that sent a fine rain -spattering over the deserted streets. New York's theater district was -like a ghost town in the early-morning hours. Except for a few familiar -faces--the blind newspaper dealer at the corner of Forty-fourth and -Broadway, the white-jacketed soda fountain clerk reading a magazine in -the window, and the inevitable knot of musicians clustered at the corner -of Forty-fifth street--no one was abroad. People in show business worked -late and slept late. But by noon, Peggy knew, the streets would be -crowded. - -She hurried past the newspaper stand, her high heels beating a brisk -tattoo on the sidewalk. The dealer was sitting inside his tiny booth -behind neat stacks of newspapers. When he heard Peggy's footsteps his -head came up and a smile crossed his face. - -"Good morning, miss," he said cheerfully. "You're out early today." - -"Good morning," Peggy called back. "Not a very nice day, is it?" - -"Not for some," the blind man replied. "But it's a grand day for you." - -Peggy stopped in her tracks and stared at him. "What do you mean?" she -asked. - -The newspaper dealer's smile broadened. "Your audition this morning." He -chuckled at Peggy's obvious astonishment, even though he couldn't see -her face. "Word gets around," he assured her. "After all, you've passed -my stand nearly every morning for months now. I like to know my -customers. Good luck. We're all pulling for you." - -"Who--" Peggy started to say, but he waved her on. - -"You don't have much time," he told her. "But don't be too surprised. -You've got more friends in New York than you think." - -Peggy said good-by and moved on, reflecting that New York wasn't such a -big place after all. People said it was cold and impersonal, but maybe -it wasn't as bad as they insisted. - -[Illustration: _"Good luck. We're all pulling for you," the blind -newsdealer said._] - -The soft-drink counter that fronted on Broadway was halfway down the -next block. A garish red-and-orange sign, bigger than the shop, -proclaimed that it specialized in a drink called PinaCola. Against a -violently colored scene of neon-lighted palm trees a second sign -advertised PinaCola as a "Refreshing, Tropical Fruit Drink--a Sparkling -Blend of Fresh Pineapple Juice and Cola." The store also served hot dogs -and hamburgers, a limited menu of sandwiches, and hot tea and coffee. It -was built so that customers could get service directly from the street -without going inside. Peggy often stopped there in the morning for a cup -of tea, which was served by a friendly, gum-chewing attendant named -Harry. - -Harry, as usual, sat near the front of the store, his starched white cap -perched on the back of his head. As Peggy passed by, he looked up from -his magazine and rapped on the sliding glass window that opened out on -the street. - -Peggy heard the sound and smiled over at him. Harry broke into a huge -grin and crossed his fingers in what was obviously a good-luck sign. -Peggy waved and hurried ahead. Even Harry knew where she was going. - -Before she had time to puzzle out the almost magical way news seemed to -get around on Broadway, she was stopped by a third well-wisher. - -"Good luck, baby," came a voice from a nearby doorway. "Belt it out real -cool, and knock 'em dead." Three or four other men smiled and nodded. - -They were musicians who congregated daily in the same place. No one -quite knew why they were there, but at practically any hour of the day -or night you could find them. The area was generally known as the -"musicians' corner" and if anyone needed a trumpet player or a guitarist -on short notice, he could call the cigar counter in the lobby of the -building. The attendant was careful to hold all messages. It was one of -those informal arrangements that puzzled outsiders but was accepted -without question by those who lived and worked in that strange world in -New York called show business. - -Peggy smiled back at the men and turned down the street that led to the -Elgin Theater. At the corner her progress was momentarily halted by a -line of sleepy-looking people boarding a chartered bus parked in front -of a sign that read: "Sight-seeing Tours Meet Here." A brisk, -businesslike man in uniform was herding them aboard. - -"Step lively, folks," he was saying. "New York's a big city and we've -got a lot to see." He gave Peggy a good-natured wink as she went by, as -if acknowledging the presence of another insider--a greeting from one -New Yorker to another. It made Peggy feel that she belonged in the big -city and that she was really a part of Manhattan. She swung down the -street with renewed confidence. - -In front of the theater, a row of shiny glass doors blocked her -entrance. A small printed sign over the center door informed the public -that "Box Office Opens at 10 A.M." Peggy tried the door and found it -locked. - -Moving to the next door, she was met by a gray-haired man who opened it -a crack. "Sorry," he said. "Box office won't be open for another half -hour." Off to her right, Peggy noticed that a line had already formed. -The early birds watched her with interest. - -"I have an appointment," Peggy said. "With Mr. Stalkey." - -The doorkeeper immediately stepped back and motioned her inside. "Just a -minute," he said, reaching for a list on a clipboard. "Your name, -please?" - -"Peggy Lane." - -The man checked off her name with a flourish. "Right. Go inside, -please." - -Peggy nodded at him absent-mindedly and pushed her way into the dark -interior of the theater. - -There was something about a deserted theater that was both lifeless and -exciting. It was a strange, gloomy world of silent rows of seats that -looked almost like headstones in a cemetery. - -And then there was the smell. - -All empty theaters had the same unmistakable odor. It was a combination -of stale air and fish glue. The glue, Peggy knew from many long hours in -summer stock, was called "sizing," and was used over canvas flats to -keep them stretched tight on their frames. Its odor was barely -noticeable at the back of the house, but farther on down, close to the -stage, it was quite strong. Backstage, of course, it was strongest, but -there it was mixed with countless other odors of theatrical life--the -sweet, oily smell of grease paint, the acrid cloud that was generated by -the electrician's lighting board--all so familiar to Peggy. They were an -integral part of her life, just as the smell of printer's ink was of her -father's. - -Blinking her eyes until they were adjusted to the shadowy darkness, -Peggy was aware that the curtain was up. In the middle of the stage -stood a plain worklight--an ugly, bare iron pole topped with a single, -powerful electric light bulb. It shed a harsh, uncompromising light that -threw grotesque shadows over the back of the set and down into the -orchestra. Near the rail that separated the orchestra pit from the -audience, Peggy could see three or four men, deep in earnest, low-voiced -conversation. In various parts of the auditorium, girls were sitting in -groups or singly. Nobody noticed her and nobody came up to tell her what -to do, so Peggy slipped unobtrusively into one of the seats off a side -aisle. - -In a few moments, one of the men down front stood up and consulted his -watch. From his tall, loose-limbed movements, Peggy recognized him as -Craig Claiborne, the director of _Innocent Laughter_. - -Claiborne moved up the center aisle, scanned the house, and apparently -was satisfied with what he saw. He turned and cupped his hands over his -mouth. - -"Frank!" he yelled. "Let's have some lights." - -From somewhere backstage a muffled voice shouted, "Okay!" The next -instant the stage was flooded with a soft yellow light. A moment later -an electrician shuffled over to the worklight, unplugged it, and dragged -it off to the wings. As he made his ungraceful exit, a tall, wiry man in -his shirt sleeves stepped on stage. In his hand, he carried two scripts. -He sat down behind a small, wooden table near the footlights and -proceeded to light a cigarette despite the No Smoking signs that covered -the theater walls. No one objected. - -Claiborne turned and mounted some steps that led to the stage. Shading -his eyes against the glare, he advanced toward the audience and cleared -his throat for attention. - -"Good morning," he began. "I'll skip the preliminaries because we all -know why we're here. The scene I want you to read this morning is in the -second act of _Innocent Laughter_. It takes place between the young -daughter and her grandfather. You understand that you're not reading for -the part of the daughter, but for the general understudy. Let me quickly -describe the action for you, and we'll start." - -In a long-legged stride, Claiborne moved to a doorway at stage left. -"The daughter comes through this door into the living room. She thinks -it is deserted, but actually her grandfather is sitting in that wing -chair by the fire. The audience can see him, but she can't. At this -point in the play, the daughter has just decided to marry the young man. -She's excited at the prospect and also a little unsure of herself. She -goes over to the window here"--Claiborne walked to a set of double -French doors--"and looks out. She sighs once, then the grandfather -speaks. She turns around in surprise, and they begin their -conversation." - -Claiborne returned to the footlights. "I want each of you to go through -the entrance. Mr. Fox"--he indicated the man puffing on a -cigarette--"will read the scene with you. Mr. Fox, incidentally, is our -assistant stage manager." - -The man at the table acknowledged the introduction by lifting one hand -and then letting it drop. - -"Now then," Claiborne said, "we'll have Miss Celia Forrester." As a -blond girl in a very tight dress got up to take her place on the stage, -Claiborne continued, "Keep on reading until I tell you to stop. When -you're excused, please return the script to Mr. Fox and leave the -theater by the stage door. You'll find it out beyond stage right." - -Miss Forrester, meanwhile, had collected her copy of the playscript from -Mr. Fox and was already disappearing behind the door. "All right, Miss -Forrester," Claiborne called out. "We're ready whenever you are. -Remember to take your time." - -There was an expectant hush as everyone in the theater settled back to -wait for the girl's entrance. It came in a rush. The door flew open and -Miss Forrester leaped out on stage, clutching the manuscript in one -hand. Looking a little like some hunted animal, she darted over to the -window and groaned ecstatically. That was the cue for Mr. Fox to read -his line, but he was so fascinated by the girl's entrance, he merely -stared at her. The young actress flashed him a peremptory glance and -heaved her sigh a second time. The assistant stage manager started -guiltily and quickly found the place. - -"'Why did you come in so quietly?'" Mr. Fox read. "'You're as furtive as -a lady burglar tonight. What's wrong?'" - -He had a high-pitched nasal voice without a trace of expression. - -Miss Forrester whirled around with a gasp. "'Oh!'" she cried in a -simpering tone. "'I didn't know anybody was here.'" - -"'I'll go if you like,'" Mr. Fox continued. - -Miss Forrester tripped over to him girlishly. "'Oh, no! Please don't,'" -she said breathlessly. "'There's--there's something I want to talk to -you about.'" For some reason, Miss Forrester decided that a laugh would -be effective at this point. It rang clear and loud through the hollow -stillness of the empty theater. - -Peggy saw Craig Claiborne slump deeper into his seat and bury his head -in his hands. After a few more moments he unwound himself and stood up. -"Thank you--thank you very much, Miss Forrester. We'll call you." - -Miss Forrester, who had been stopped in mid-sentence, closed her mouth -and returned the playscript to Mr. Fox. Flashing Claiborne a smile, she -left the stage. - -"Miss Palmers, please," Claiborne announced. "Miss Ruth Palmers." - -Ruth Palmers turned out to be an extremely self-assured young woman who -took the script from Mr. Fox as though she were doing him a favor. She -glided haughtily to the door and closed it behind her. - -"All right," Claiborne called. "Any time." - -The door opened slowly, and Miss Palmers was revealed leaning -languorously against the frame. Keeping her eyes fixed on some distant -point in space, she stepped on stage and floated over to the window. -Collecting herself, she arched her back and breathed a tiny bored sigh. - -"'Why did you come in so quietly?'" read the faithful Mr. Fox. "'You're -as furtive as a lady burglar tonight. What's wrong?'" - -Miss Palmers gave a little pout of surprise and turned to regard him -coldly. "'Ahh,'" she drawled. "'I didn't know anybody was here.'" - -"'I'll go if you like,'" came the answering line, as the scene got under -way for the second time. - -Miss Palmers lasted a little longer than Miss Forrester before she too -was dismissed. The third girl was allowed to read the entire scene. -Peggy saw she was a good, competent actress. Claiborne even worked with -her on some of the lines. - -The fourth candidate was banished before she could read two lines. She -departed from the stage looking thoroughly defeated--as if this sort of -thing happened to her all the time. - -Both of the next two girls read well. Peggy noticed they had bright, -attractive personalities which shone especially when they came to the -laugh lines. It would be her turn soon. She only hoped that Randy was -right in his diagnosis of the scene. She was determined to play it with -tenderness. - -Peggy was jolted back to reality by Craig Claiborne's voice calling, -"Miss Lane. Miss Peggy Lane, please." - -Peggy lifted herself out of her seat and walked down the aisle on -rubbery legs. Suddenly her throat became as dry as a lump of cotton -wool. But somehow she managed to get on stage, take the script from Mr. -Fox, and move through the door. - -At last she was backstage at the Elgin Theater. All around her, coils of -wire and rope snaked across the floor. Above her, high over the stage, -she could see rows of heavy sandbags used as counterweights whenever -scenery was "flown." Behind her, by the electrician's board, a heavy-set -stagehand was tipped back in a chair, reading the morning paper. He -didn't even bother to give her a glance. - -"All right," came Claiborne's voice. "Any time." - -Peggy forced herself to relax. She drew a deep breath and expelled every -drop of air from her lungs. Then she took a second breath and pushed -open the door. - -It's night, Peggy thought to herself. The room is probably dark except -for the glow of the fire. She moved quietly, tentatively, and closed the -door softly. She stood for a moment, as if she were listening for -something, then walked quickly over to the big double window. Very -gently, she pulled back a curtain. New York was supposed to be stretched -out there in front of her, and Peggy tried to remember what it was like -to see the lights of New York in real life. She conjured them up and -sighed. The lights of New York.... - -"'Why did you come in so quietly? You're as furtive as a lady burglar -tonight. What's wrong?'" - -The line was totally unexpected. Of course, Peggy knew the words would -be spoken, but they still came as a surprise. She turned in genuine -astonishment. "'Oh!'" she exclaimed. "'I didn't know anybody was here.'" - -"'I'll go if you like.'" - -Peggy moved down to the wing chair, trying to envision an old man -sitting there. A kind old man with a strong, salty sense of humor, whom -she didn't know too well. - -"'Oh, no! Please don't,'" Peggy read. There was real conviction in her -voice. "'There's--there's something I want to talk to you about.'" - -Suddenly Peggy knew how the girl in the play would feel. She would be a -little afraid of her grandfather, even though she recognized all his -good qualities. The girl would be unsure of how to start the -conversation. - -Mr. Fox, playing the grandfather, read the encouraging lines. Peggy -answered him. The pieces were beginning to fall into place now. She read -with mounting conviction and assurance until, abruptly, a voice -shattered the illusion. - -"Thank you, Miss Lane. We'll be in touch with you." - -It couldn't be over yet! Peggy stopped in stunned amazement. Just when -it was going so well! She felt the script being taken out of her hand -and realized that she had been dismissed. Fighting back the tears, Peggy -moved over to the right of the stage and ran off into the wings. - -She was grateful there was no one backstage to see her. She turned the -corner that led to the stage entrance and thudded against somebody -coming into the theater. - -Peggy blinked the tears away and looked up to see Katherine Nelson -standing in front of her. Katherine Nelson opened her mouth to speak, -but Peggy didn't stop to listen. - -Murmuring apologies under her breath, she brushed past the star and -threw open the heavy door. All she wanted was to get out of the theater -and as far away from _Innocent Laughter_ as she could. She barely heard -the steel door clang shut behind her as she walked quickly down the -street--away from Broadway. - - - - - VI - "Why Don't You Quit?" - - -"Peggy, honey, it just can't be as bad as all that!" - -"You don't know!" Peggy was in her dressing gown, stretched across her -bed, still thinking about the audition that morning. "I hardly got out -five lines before he stopped me. Honestly, I've never been so -embarrassed in my life." - -"You can't tell," Amy said. "Maybe he didn't have to hear any more." - -"I'm sure he didn't," Peggy replied bitterly. "I'm sure he heard all he -wanted. More than he wanted." She got up and walked distractedly over to -the window. "Whatever made me think I could be an actress! I ought to -have my head examined!" - -"You _are_ an actress," Amy said stoutly. "And a darned good one." - -Peggy whirled on her angrily. "You wouldn't say that if you could have -heard me. I must have sounded like an old crow!" - -Amy shook her head. "You certainly are taking this hard," she said. "I -can't do a thing to cheer you up." - -"Oh, Amy." Peggy went over to her roommate and took her by the hand. -"I'm sorry I snapped at you. It's just that--that--oh, I don't know." - -"I wish I'd seen you," Amy declared. - -Peggy looked at her in surprise. "Why? What could you have done?" - -"I just think you're exaggerating, that's all. But I can't convince you -because I wasn't there." - -"Well, thanks anyway, but I'm not." Peggy sat down and closed her eyes. - -"You'd better get dressed," Amy said after a pause. - -Peggy opened one eye. "What for?" - -"You have to eat, don't you? I bet you didn't have any lunch." - -"I had a bite," Peggy said listlessly. "But I'm not hungry right now. -You go on." - -"Not without you." - -"No, please go." Peggy sat up and looked at Amy earnestly. "Really, I -wouldn't mind being alone for a little while. I've got some thinking to -do." - -"Sometimes two heads are better than one." - -Peggy shook her head doubtfully. "Not on this problem," she said. "I've -got to decide whether to stay in New York." - -Amy jumped to her feet. "Peggy!" she cried. "That's the most outrageous -thing I've ever heard!" - -"But what's the sense in beating my brains out?" - -"Oh, Peggy!" It was Amy's turn to look distracted. "What would you do? -Where would you go?" - -"Do?" Peggy said vacantly. "I guess I'd go back home and do what Dad -wanted me to do all along. Be a schoolteacher." - -"You wouldn't be happy," Amy said gently. - -"No," Peggy admitted. "I suppose I wouldn't. But it would be better than -this." - -Amy crossed the room with firm strides and sat down on the bed beside -Peggy. Her usually cheerful face was set in a serious line. "Now you -listen to me, Peggy Lane," she said severely. "I don't know how you read -today and I don't care. The important thing is that this was your very -first audition for an important play. Of course, you were nervous. Who -wouldn't be? Maybe you didn't do as well as you thought you could, but -that doesn't mean you can't. Two nights ago, I was the one who wanted to -quit, and remember what you said to me then. You told me to face up to -what happened and not let it get me down. And now here you're doing the -very thing you warned me against." - -"Yes, but Amy," Peggy said, "tell me something, frankly." - -"What is it?" - -Peggy paused to choose her words with care. "Supposing--just suppose -now, you discovered you didn't have any talent--" - -Amy tossed her head angrily. "Oh, Peggy!" she cried reproachfully. - -"Now don't interrupt," Peggy said. "Just let me finish and answer my -question. If you found out you didn't have any talent as an actress, -would you still try to break into the theater? Or would you give it up, -much as you loved it?" - -Amy stared at her thoughtfully. "I don't know, Peggy," she said. "I -honestly don't know. What made you think of that?" - -"I saw a girl today," Peggy said. "She read at the audition. Craig -Claiborne stopped her before she could say three words--" - -"There, you see!" Amy interrupted triumphantly. "You did better than -that!" - -Peggy smiled wanly. "Yes, but not much. Anyway, the point I'm trying to -make is that Claiborne was right in stopping her. She was no good at -all." She tucked her legs underneath her and leaned forward. "Now here's -a girl," Peggy went on, "who obviously thinks she's got ability. But -actually she doesn't. Isn't she just deluding herself by going on?" - -Amy shrugged. "You never know. She might get better." - -Peggy shook her head emphatically. "Not a chance in the world. You can -tell about some people. And, in a strange sort of way, I think she knew -it, too. You should have seen her face when Claiborne told her she could -go. It was as if she had heard the same thing so many times." - -"Well, how does all this apply to you?" Amy asked. - -"I'm getting to that. How many girls want to be actresses, do you -think?" - -Amy thought for a moment. "Thousands, I guess." - -"And a lot of them have some talent," Peggy continued eagerly. "They -take part in school plays and church pageants and all that sort of -thing. Everybody tells them how good they are, and pretty soon they -begin to believe them. But Amy! What a difference between being the best -actress in your home town and competing in New York!" - -"Don't I know it!" Amy sighed. - -"Well, then," Peggy said, "supposing I'm one of those girls--" She held -up her hand. "Now don't interrupt again," she warned. "One of those -girls who has a certain amount of ability, but not enough to make the -grade in the professional theater. In that case, I think I owe it to -myself to go back home. Let me act if I want to, but in the local little -theater group--not as a starving outsider in New York. Right?" - -"I guess so," Amy agreed quietly. "But only if you're convinced you -don't have the talent." - -"And that's what I have to figure out," Peggy said. "I'm just not sure." - -Further discussion was interrupted by a soft knock. - -"Come in," the girls chorused. The door swung open to reveal May -Berriman standing in the hall with a tray in her hands. - -"Room service," she announced as she shouldered her way inside. "Would -you mind clearing off that dresser so I can put down the tray?" - -"May!" Peggy cried. "What's all this for?" - -"Custom of the house," May replied loftily as she set down her tray. "We -do it whenever a girl has her first big audition. We figure that she's -too exhausted to go out and eat afterward." - -"I don't believe it," Peggy said. - -"Well, you're right," May replied dryly. "But I heard you had a fit of -the blues, and I thought this might help. How do you feel?" - -"She feels terrible," Amy answered. "She's the original Calamity Jane." - -"Uh huh." May nodded. "Feeling sorry for yourself, eh? Here, try some of -this soup." She looked at Peggy sharply. "What's the matter? Did you -walk out on the stage with two left feet?" - -Peggy smiled briefly. "That's just about it. I did a dreadful job." - -May put a plate of soup on Peggy's lap. "Who said so?" she demanded -brusquely. - -"Nobody had to tell me," Peggy said. "I was there. He stopped me after -five lines." - -May whistled admiringly. "Five lines! Say, that's pretty good. I -remember my first audition--they didn't even let me take a deep breath." - -"Come on!" - -"I'm not joking. Tell me, were your legs shaking?" - -Peggy laughed. "I didn't think I could make it to the stage." - -"I know the feeling. It's like trying to walk across a plate of Jello. -Well," May said cheerfully, "you've got all the right symptoms. You -should recover in a day or two." - -"In a day or two she might be gone," Amy blurted out. - -"What?" May turned to Amy in blank amazement. "What do you mean?" - -"She's thinking of going back home," Amy said. "She doesn't think she's -got enough talent." - -May's expression hardened as she stared at Peggy. "Well!" she said at -last. "Maybe she's right." - -"May!" came Amy's shocked voice. - -"I mean it," May said coldly. "There's no room for anyone in the theater -without confidence." She stalked over to the dresser and began taking -dishes off the tray. Amy and Peggy looked at each other in surprise. - -Amy was the first to break the silence. "But, May," she faltered, -"couldn't you--I mean, don't you think--" - -"That she should stay?" May shook her head disdainfully. "Not if _she_ -doesn't think so." The older woman turned and faced the two girls. "Look -here, you two. Whenever an actor or actress gets up on a stage in front -of thousands of people, he's simply got to have confidence in himself. -He's got to think that he's the only person in the world who can play -the part. If he didn't"--May threw up her hands--"he'd have no business -being in the theater." - -May walked over to Amy's bed and sat down. "That doesn't mean you have -to be vain and egotistical. Somebody like Katherine Nelson, for example. -She thinks the sun rises and sets for her own personal enjoyment. -Personally, I think her acting suffers because of her attitude, and -certainly she's not a very attractive human being. No, what I'm talking -about is something quite different. It's a quiet pride in your own craft -and ability. That's the quality you need." - -May fixed Peggy with a steady stare. "I know what's wrong with you, -young lady. You just want somebody to tell you how good you are. Well, -that's not surprising. We all need approval. But in the theater, we -don't always get it when we want it, and that means we've got to be -tough enough to keep on going no matter what people say. I didn't say -hard, I said tough. There's a big difference. Peggy, look at me." - -The young girl raised her eyes. "I think you're a good actress. I can't -tell you how good, because that depends on you. It depends on how hard -you're willing to work and how fast you learn. But you have the basic -equipment to make it." - -May raised a finger to emphasize her point. "Even so, that's still not -enough. You have to want to do it and you have to have a deep faith that -you can do it. Tell me, Peggy, do you think you could play the part of -the daughter in _Innocent Laughter_ if you had to? Tell me honestly -now." - -Peggy nodded briefly. "Yes," she said with quiet conviction. "I know I -could." - -May sighed and stood up. "Then why do you want to leave New York? -_Innocent Laughter_ isn't the only play you're ever going to audition -for. And the next time you'll do better. Let's have a little backbone, -Peggy." - -Peggy sat staring at May for a moment, then flung herself into the older -woman's arms. "Oh, May!" she said. "You're right. I was being--I don't -know what." - -"There, there," May said soothingly, stroking the girl's hair. "You're -all right, Peggy. You just needed somebody to talk tough." She put her -hands on Peggy's shoulders and looked into her eyes. "No more of this -talk about going home. Promise?" - -Peggy nodded. "I promise," she said with a laugh. - -"Good girl. Go ahead and have a cry if you want. It'll do you good. But -don't forget to eat some supper." She started to pat Peggy's hand, but -stopped as the telephone buzzer squawked unexpectedly. - -"Oh, oh," May said. "Better not have that cry after all. Somebody wants -to talk to you." - -"I'll go," Amy cried, going toward the door. They could hear her -footsteps echoing down the hallway. The next instant, it seemed, they -heard them running back to the room at what sounded like full speed. - -Amy appeared at the doorway, her face flushed with excitement and her -eyes bright. "Peggy!" she almost screamed. "You got it! You got it!" - -For a moment it didn't register. "Got what?" Peggy stammered. - -"The part!" Amy danced into the room and made a grab for Peggy. "Hurry -up! It's Peter Grey! He's downstairs in the living room with Pam Mundy. -He told me to tell you that they're ready to offer you the part of -general understudy in _Innocent Laughter_. He wants to talk to you about -it right now. Oh, Peggy, Peggy! All that worrying for nothing. You got -the part!" - - - - - VII - Peggy Turns Detective - - -Peggy found Pam Mundy and Peter Grey sitting on one of the sofas in the -big living room of the Gramercy Arms. When Peggy walked through the -door, Peter jumped up and held out his hand. - -"Congratulations," he said. "We thought we'd come around and tell you -the good news personally." - -Peggy took the offered hand and smiled. "I still don't believe it," she -said. "You're sure there's no mistake?" - -"Absolutely certain." - -Peggy smiled a second time and went over to sit beside Pam. "And you're -the one who started it all," she said. - -Pam, who was a petite brunette with a quick, vivacious manner, leaned -her head back against the sofa and laughed. "That," she said, "was what -they call a stroke of genius." - -"Well, whatever it was, I've got you to thank." - -Pam sat up suddenly. "Oh, no," she said. "It's the other way around. I'm -the one who should thank you." - -Peggy looked at her in surprise. "Whatever do you mean?" - -"It's simple," Pam said seriously. "Oscar Stalkey was wondering whom to -get for the understudy, and I'm the fair-haired girl who came up with -the right name. Is he ever impressed!" - -Peter held up his right hand. "That's the truth," he assured Peggy. "He -thinks Pam's the greatest casting director in New York." - -"Well, not quite," Pam said with a grin. "But at least he doesn't think -I'm a silly girl butting in where I don't have any business to be." - -She turned to Peggy with a sudden movement of annoyance. "Honestly, -Peggy, you wouldn't believe the cold shoulders I've been given! I used -to think it was hard for a girl to get established as an actress, but -believe me, that's a cinch compared to finding a good job in production. -Producers," she continued, warming up to her topic, "are all alike. In -the first place, they're nearly all men--" - -"And that's the way they want to keep it," Peter finished with a smile. - -"That's right." Pam nodded vigorously. "That's exactly the trouble." She -turned and appealed to Peggy. "What's the matter with a woman being a -producer?" she demanded. - -"Nothing. There are some very successful women producers." - -Pam brushed this aside. "They're exceptions--" - -"Whoa! Slow down a bit," Peter said good-naturedly. "This is her -favorite topic," he told Peggy. "The poor girl's always telling us what -a hard life she leads." - -Pam subsided with a sheepish grin. "I guess you're right. But it still -makes me mad to think--" - -"Watch it," Peter warned. - -Pam stuck her tongue out at him and they both laughed. "The reason I can -give orders to the terrible-tempered Miss Mundy," Peter said, "is that I -am now officially her boss." - -"I thought you worked for Mr. Stalkey," Peggy said. - -"We both work for Oscar Stalkey," Peter explained, "but Pam works for -me. You see, I've been made company manager for the first road -production of _Innocent Laughter_, and Pam was just made my assistant." - -"Oh, that's wonderful!" Peggy cried excitedly. "That means we'll be -going on tour together." - -"That's right," Peter answered. "And now, if my assistant will kindly -shut up for five minutes, maybe we can talk about the road tour for a -change. After all, that's why we're here." He leaned forward. "First of -all, are there any questions?" - -"Hundreds," Peggy assured him. "So many I don't know which one to ask -first. But how about this one? Why did I get the part?" - -Peter looked surprised. "That's easy. You read better than anyone else." - -Peggy shook her head in amazement. "I was so scared, my knees were all -wobbly. I thought I was terrible." - -Peter grinned. "You sure were scared," he conceded. "We could -practically hear your teeth chattering. But you had the quality we were -looking for." - -"But what about the other girls?" Peggy said. "The ones that Craig -Claiborne worked with for a while." - -"They were almost right. Claiborne thought with a little help he could -make them give a performance. But then you came along and you were -perfect. And that was that!" - -"I still can't understand it," Peggy marveled. "He cut me off so soon." - -"He didn't have to hear any more." - -Peggy smiled. "That's just what Amy said." - -"Well, she was right." Peter reached into his coat pocket and pulled out -a sheaf of mimeographed papers. "Here," he said, spreading them out over -the coffee table, "this is an outline of the tour as far as we know it." - -Peggy leaned over the table and watched Peter check off each stopping -place. "We open in Baltimore on the twelfth of next month. That's just -five weeks away. We move south to Washington, swing west for a series of -performances through Virginia, West Virginia, Kentucky, up to Ohio, over -to Indiana, and eventually to Chicago. It's a rugged tour. A lot of -one-night stands in theaters that haven't been properly used since the -days of vaudeville. Oscar Stalkey believes in bringing live theater to -all parts of the country--even if it kills all his actors." - -"How long will we be in Chicago?" Peggy asked. - -"As long as they'll keep us," Peter answered with a wry smile. -"Actually, we're the Chicago company of _Innocent Laughter_, but we're -taking the long way around before we get there." - -"Is there another road company?" - -"Oh, yes. It hasn't been formed yet, though. They'll play the Southwest -and California and probably settle in Los Angeles." - -"How do we travel?" - -Peter and Pam exchanged glances and grinned. "You name it," Peter said. -"We'll be using every means of transportation known to man except the -ox-cart." - -"Don't be too sure." Pam laughed. "We may use that yet." - -"True," Peter admitted. "Bus, hired car, trains, of course, planes. -Everything you can think of." - -"And hotel space?" - -"That's one of our headaches," Pam said. "You see, moving a dozen people -and three tons of theatrical scenery around the country on a -split-second schedule is quite a chore." - -"We're still worrying about the scenery," Peter said. "When we get that -settled, we'll start to think about the people." - -"Oh, I wasn't complaining," Peggy said hastily. "I'm sure everything -will be all right." - -"I'm glad you think so," Peter said dryly. "I wish everyone was as easy -to please." - -"Why? Whom do you mean?" - -"None other than that great lady of the theater, Katherine Nelson." - -Peggy felt a funny sinking sensation in her stomach. "Is she in the -cast?" - -Peter nodded grimly. "Oh, yes. She's the mother." - -"The romantic lead!" - -"Yep." Peter grinned at her. "Don't look so surprised. What did you -expect her to play? The grandmother?" - -Peggy shook her head. "I've only seen that woman twice, but I don't -think she liked me." - -"Bingo!" Peter cried. "You're so right. What did you do to her?" - -"Nothing. Really, I didn't do a thing. Why?" - -"She saw you at the theater this morning and came storming up to Oscar -Stalkey. She wanted to know if you were being considered for the -understudy." - -"What did he say?" - -"What could he say? Yes, naturally. She bounced around the theater like -an old bag of bones, she was so angry. I wonder why she's taken such a -dislike to you." - -"I don't know," Peggy said. "I'll just have to stay out of her way as -much as I can." - -"That's not going to be easy," Pam said. "Don't forget, you're playing a -small part in the first act. You're playing the schoolgirl friend of the -daughter." - -"True," Peggy said. "Does she know about it?" - -"Not yet." - -"I bet there'll be an explosion." - -"Don't worry about it," Peter counseled. "Oscar Stalkey can handle her -pretty well. He doesn't let her get away with too much." - -"What was that fight about in the office the other day?" Peggy asked. -"Or shouldn't I ask?" - -Peter shrugged carelessly. "No big secret. She'd just finished -explaining to Stalkey that she should play the lead in the Broadway -production and not out in the sticks, as she put it." - -"Mr. Stalkey put her in her place soon enough," Pam added with evident -satisfaction. - -"And that's why she was screaming," Peter added. "She's got to have her -own way or she throws a temper tantrum. Just like a child. I sometimes -wonder what ails that woman." - -Pam looked at him sharply. "Don't be dumb, Peter. She simply can't face -the fact that she's not the romantic star she used to be." - -"Well, I wish she'd act her age," Peter said moodily. "It'd be a lot -easier all around. Let's change the subject. Any more questions, Peggy?" - -"One or two. Who's the rest of the cast?" - -"Let's see now. The grandmother--a wonderful part--is Emily Burckhardt. -The daughter is Marcy Hubbard. Do you know Marcy? She's about your age, -I guess. A little older." - -Peggy shook her head. "No, but I've heard of her." - -"She's nice. You'll like her." - -"What about the grandfather?" - -"Now that," Peter said, "is a ticklish question." He pushed a paper -across the table to Peggy. "You'd better hang on to that. It's the first -of many to come. Before we start on tour, you'll have mimeographed -sheets telling everything you'll want to know--times of departures and -arrivals, accommodations assigned to you, absolutely everything. That's -my headache." - -"And mine," Pam said. - -"Right," Peter acknowledged with a grin. "But to get back to your -question about the grandfather. You heard our conversation in the -office?" - -"You mean when you suggested Tom Agate?" - -"That's right." - -"Exactly who is Tom Agate? I think I know the name, and I remember your -saying he was a famous performer back in the days of vaudeville. But I'm -afraid I'm still not clear about--" - -"That's not surprising," Peter interrupted. "Tom Agate retired from the -stage fifteen years ago." - -"Why did he retire?" - -"Nobody knows." - -"Maybe he couldn't get a job any more." - -"Tom Agate!" Peter said incredulously. "Don't you believe it! Don't -forget, that was just when television was starting. They were using a -lot of old-time vaudeville performers then, and Tom could have had any -number of jobs. I've spoken to several producers who wanted him, but -they couldn't find him." - -"What do you mean--couldn't find him?" - -"Exactly that. He'd disappeared. Vanished." - -"Do you know where he is now?" - -Peter paused and sat back in his chair. "No," he said slowly. "I don't. -But I think there's a chance of tracing him." - -"How?" - -"I ran into somebody the other day who says he's positive that Tom is -still in New York. If he is, we're going to find him." - -"Remember," Pam pointed out, "you've only got two days." - -"I know, and that's the trouble." - -"Where are you going to look first?" Peggy asked. - -"I know a man, a friend of my father's," Peter said, "who's been with -the drama department of the _Chronicle_ for the last forty years. He -knows more about the history of the American theater than anyone I've -ever met." He looked straight at Peggy. "I thought we'd go down tomorrow -and talk to him." - -"We?" Peggy said in surprise. - -Peter nodded. "I was hoping you'd be willing to help." - -"Well, sure," Peggy said, "but how--" - -"You see," Peter went on excitedly, "I can't get away during the day, -and neither can Pam. There's just not enough time before the tour. We -both have to stick pretty close to the office. But I thought that maybe -you--" He trailed off and looked at Peggy hopefully. - -"Could act as the bloodhound?" Peggy finished. - -"That's it. Will you?" - -"I don't even know what he looks like." - -Peter brushed this aside. "That's no problem. We can go down to the -newspaper office first thing tomorrow morning and talk to my friend. His -name, by the way, is Johnny Dwyer. Johnny has a room full of old -clippings and photographs, and I bet he can give us a lead on Tom. Then -you can follow it up and let me know tomorrow evening. How about it?" - -Peggy smiled. "Well, I once discovered a hidden theater. Maybe I'll be -lucky enough to find a hidden actor." - -Peter bounced to his feet with a broad smile. "Good girl!" he said. "Can -you meet me on the fourth floor of the _Chronicle_ building at nine -o'clock tomorrow morning?" - -"I'll be there," Peggy said. - -"Good." Peter gathered his papers and stuffed them in his pocket. "We'll -have your contract prepared tomorrow, and when I meet you I'll give you -a copy, and you can look it over. Then, if everything's satisfactory, -you can sign it and deliver it back to us. Okay?" - -Peggy sighed. "Sounds wonderful to me." - -"Sounds pretty good to us, too," Peter replied. "I think we're signing -on a first-class actress." - - - - - VIII - The Search - - -"Tom Agate? Sure, what can I tell you?" - -Johnny Dwyer settled back in his chair and waved a hand invitingly at a -pair of battered office chairs. Peggy sat down in one of them and looked -at the figure in front of her with interest. Johnny Dwyer was a small, -birdlike man with a cheerful, pink face, snow-white hair and the -bushiest eyebrows Peggy had ever seen. At the moment, he was perched in -front of an old-fashioned rolltop desk in a musty corner of the big -metropolitan newspaper office, his coat off and the sleeves of his shirt -held up by a pair of elastic armbands. Outside of actors in costume and -old photographs, Peggy had never seen anyone wear armbands. But Johnny -Dwyer did, and it gave him the appearance of someone out of a -turn-of-the-century tintype. Despite his age--and Peggy guessed that he -was over seventy--Johnny Dwyer moved with a quick, catlike grace. But -when he walked, it was with the help of a cane. - -On the way in to his office that morning, Peter had told Peggy a little -about Johnny Dwyer. Johnny had been a gay blade in his younger days, a -rising popular star in the New York music halls. But a tragic horseback -accident had broken his leg in three places and cut short his career as -a song-and-dance man. - -The publisher of the _Chronicle_, then a new and struggling newspaper in -New York, liked Johnny, felt sorry for him, and offered him a job -keeping records for the drama department. It turned out to be a -satisfactory arrangement for both sides. Johnny moved in and stayed. - -For nearly half a century he watched the American theater parade through -his bulging scrapbook and file cabinets. His memory was phenomenal and -his list of acquaintances was as wide as the theater itself. In his own -time, Johnny Dwyer had become sort of a legend, a living museum whose -memory was a storehouse of theatrical lore. If anyone needed any -information on the theater, they usually tried the public library first -and then, if they couldn't find it there, they came to Johnny. -Sometimes, if they knew Johnny well, they didn't even bother with the -library. According to Peter, if anybody in New York knew where Tom Agate -was, it would be Johnny Dwyer. - -"Tom used to be a good friend of mine," Johnny said, leaning back -comfortably. "Many's the night we've sat around and swapped stories." - -"Used to?" Peter asked in a troubled voice. "Is he dead?" - -Johnny looked at Peter shrewdly. "Some people think so." - -"Do you?" Peter obviously didn't know what to make of this strange -reply. - -Johnny stared up at the ceiling for a moment before answering. "Look -here, young fellow," he said at last. "Tom Agate retired a long time -ago." - -"I know that," Peter said. "But we want to find him." - -Johnny Dwyer pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Has it occurred to you that -he doesn't want to be found?" - -"Oh, come on now, Johnny," Peter said in a pleading voice. "You know a -lot more than you're telling us. How about a break? We don't want to -bite the man. We just want to offer him a job." - -Johnny seemed startled. "A job? But he's retired!" - -"He'll come out of retirement for this part," Peter said confidently. - -"Oh, it's a play?" - -Peter nodded. "A wonderful chance." - -Johnny shook his head and smiled. "Tom Agate's heard that so many times. -Believe me, he won't listen. He's finished with the theater." - -"Do you know why?" Peggy asked. - -"I don't have the slightest notion," Johnny replied blandly. Despite his -innocent expression, Peggy was almost certain the old man was lying to -Peter. "All I know," he went on smoothly, "is that fifteen years ago, -Tom Agate told me he was quitting the stage. He didn't give any reason -and I didn't ask. After all, you don't stick your nose into someone -else's affairs." - -"Have you seen Tom lately?" Peter persisted. - -"The last time I saw Tom was"--the old man cocked his head to one -side--"oh, it must have been four years ago." - -"And he'd been retired then for eleven years?" - -Johnny smiled briefly. "If my arithmetic isn't off, I guess you're -right." - -"How was he?" - -"Fine." Johnny folded his hands and waited patiently for the next -question. Peggy suddenly felt herself caught up in a mystery she didn't -understand. It was clear to her that Johnny Dwyer was not going to -co-operate even though he had the information Peter wanted so -desperately. She waited for the next move anxiously. - -Peter leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. -"Johnny," he said with quiet sincerity, "let me explain why we want to -get in touch with Tom Agate." He proceeded to tell Johnny about -_Innocent Laughter_ and the part reserved for Tom. "It's a wonderful -opportunity for him," he concluded. "And, of course, I'm convinced that -Tom would be ideal in the part." - -Johnny Dwyer sat perfectly still for several seconds after Peter had -finished talking. At last he lifted himself to his feet, picked up his -cane, and walked over to the window. Peggy noticed again how tiny and -fragile he looked. "Peter, my boy," he said finally, "I'm glad you feel -that way about Tom. It's nice to know that somebody still remembers -him." - -"I'm sure that thousands of people all over the country remember him!" -Peter interrupted excitedly. - -Johnny smiled and nodded. "Perhaps. But Tom had his reasons for leaving -when he did, and I don't think anybody has the right to force him back. -It's a decision he's got to make." - -Peter got up and walked over to Johnny. "I agree with you," he said. -"But we're not going to force him. All I want is a chance to talk to -him. He can make up his own mind." - -The two men--one old, the other young--stood staring at each other. -Johnny Dwyer looked into Peter's eyes as though he were trying to read -his mind, then turned away. "No," he said. "Get somebody else." - -Peter sighed and returned to his chair. "You say you saw Tom four years -ago?" - -"Mm-hm." Johnny gave a little birdlike bob with his head. - -Peter looked up abruptly. "Tell me something, Johnny. Was he happy?" The -question was sharp and unexpected. For the first time Johnny seemed -uncertain of his answer. "Or did he miss the theater?" - -Johnny groped his way over to his chair and sank down. There was a -troubled expression on his face. "Yes," he said in a very quiet voice. -"He missed the stage." He looked over at Peggy and Peter. "You two," he -said, "you've been working in the theater for how long? Two years? Four -years? Five years? Well, Tom Agate spent thirty years of his life on -stage. It was everything he knew--and almost everything he loved." - -"_Almost_ everything?" The question came almost automatically, before -Peggy had a chance to think about it. Johnny looked at her oddly. It was -the first time she had spoken during the interview. - -"Don't ask me any more," he said. "Just leave Tom alone." - -Peter shook his head stubbornly. "Why don't you help us give Tom a -chance to find happiness again?" - -"By coming back to the theater?" - -"Yes." - -"He'd never do it. I told you that." - -"Maybe he's changed his mind." - -Johnny smiled and shook his head regretfully. Suddenly Peggy was on her -feet, talking quickly and earnestly. - -"Mr. Dwyer," she said, "we don't want to pry into Mr. Agate's personal -life. You said yourself no one should poke his nose into someone else's -business. Well, I agree. But at the same time you just admitted that he -was unhappy and missed the theater. You said it was his whole life. -Sometimes, Mr. Dwyer, people need help. They need to have their eyes -opened so they can see the life they're missing. The life that belongs -to them if only they reach out and take it. Doesn't Mr. Agate deserve a -second chance? I--I don't know what happened fifteen years ago. I don't -know why he left the stage and I wouldn't dream of asking him." - -"Then what _do_ you want to ask him?" - -"I want to ask him to come back to the life he loves," Peggy said -simply. - -"I tried that myself," Johnny said. "It didn't work." - -Peggy pulled a chair over beside Johnny and looked into his face. -"Sometimes," she said gently, "the wrong person does the asking." - -Johnny stared at her in surprise. "What do you mean?" - -Peggy was flushed and embarrassed at what she was about to say, but she -held her ground. "We're young," she said as kindly as she could. "We're -still part of the theater he misses so much. If _we_ want him back, -that's different from...." Her voice trailed off in confusion as she -anxiously watched Johnny's reaction. - -Johnny nodded in comprehension. "Different from an old fellow like me -doing the asking. Somebody who's through, himself. Is that what you -mean?" - -"Yes," Peggy said almost in a whisper. "Except for one thing. You're not -through. You've still got your work. People need you--the newspaper -needs you. Nobody needs Tom Agate, and he probably thinks nobody wants -him." She stood up and looked down at him. "But we want him." - -Johnny passed a hand over his face and rested his chin on the head of -his cane. Slowly his head began to nod. "You're right," he said at last. -"By gollies, I think you are." He turned to Peter with an appreciative -chuckle. "You should have let her do the talking right from the start." - -"Then you'll help us?" Peggy cried eagerly. - -Johnny got up and hobbled energetically over to a pile of scrapbooks. -"I'll do all I can," he said. "But I'm afraid it's not going to be -much." - -"Johnny!" Peter was over beside the old man, clapping him -enthusiastically on the back. - -"Take it easy, now," Johnny protested. "Frankly, I'd give a lot to see -Tom Agate back on the stage. Remember that old song of his, 'Kathleen -Aroon'?" - -Johnny was chuckling happily now, as if he had been relieved of a great -burden of responsibility. - -"Hold on." Peter laughed. "He won't be doing any songs in _Innocent -Laughter_. It's a straight play." - -"What a pity," Johnny sighed. "Did you ever hear him sing?" he asked -Peggy. "I guess not," he said before she could answer. "You'd be too -young. But that was his theme song. He used to sing it everywhere. I -think he included it in every show he ever played." - -"How does it go?" Peggy asked. - -"Like this." Johnny turned and faced them. - - _"Why should we parted be, Kathleen Aroon, - When thy fond heart's with me, Kathleen Aroon? - Come to these golden skies, - Bright days for us may rise, - Oh! dry those tearful eyes, Kathleen Aroon."_ - -Even though Johnny sang with the thin voice of an old man, Peggy found -herself listening to every phrase. When he finished, she held out her -hands to him. - -"That was beautiful," she breathed. "I never knew that such a simple -song could be so lovely." - -Johnny smiled modestly. "You should have heard Tom do it," he said. "It -always seemed to have a special meaning for him." - -Beside her, Peggy could feel Peter fidgeting restlessly. "Say, I'm sorry -to break this up," he said, "but I've got to get back to the office. Can -we have Tom Agate's address?" - -Johnny shook his head regretfully. "That's just the trouble. I'm afraid -he may have moved. All I've got is the place where he lived four years -ago." - -"But mightn't he still be there?" Peter asked anxiously. - -Johnny shrugged. "I don't know. You can try." - -"Well, where is it?" - -Johnny wrote out an address that Peggy recognized as a place out in the -suburbs beyond the city. - -"That's the best I can do," Johnny said. "You can inquire there." - -"Great." Peter took the paper and handed it over to Peggy. "That's your -job, Sherlock Holmes. Let's hope you find him." - -"Wait a minute," Peggy said, grabbing Peter by the arm. "I don't even -know what he looks like." - -"That's easy," Johnny said. "I've got a million photographs. Let me get -you one. I'll try to get the best likeness for you." He disappeared down -a narrow aisle of file cases. A moment later he was back, blowing the -dust from a large glossy photo. "Here," he said, holding it out. "That's -just about the way he looks today. It was taken during the war." - -The picture showed a rather ordinary-appearing man. At first glance -there was nothing particularly unusual about Tom Agate. But a closer -look revealed a quality of gentle, almost melancholy, humor that seemed -to dominate his face. Peggy held it out at arm's length. "He looks so -sad," she said. "Somehow I expected him to be gay." - -"What did you think he'd be like?" Johnny asked quietly. "A circus -clown?" - -"No," Peggy said. She shook her head. "I don't know." - -"Don't be embarrassed," Johnny said hastily. "All great clowns are sad. -Or didn't you know that?" He took the photograph from her, slipped it -into a plain Manila envelope and returned it. "Here you are," he said. -"And good luck to you. I hope you find him." - -Peggy tucked the envelope under her arm and extended her hand. "Thanks a -lot," she said warmly. "We'll let you know how we make out." - -Johnny walked them to the door of his office. "You do that," he said. -"And when you find Tom Agate, give him my regards." He held the door -Open. "Tell him for me that he was a fool ever to have listened to -Johnny Dwyer. Tell him--tell him that his friends are waiting for him. -It's been too long." He smiled and gripped their hands in farewell. - - -Paradise Avenue, just beyond New York City, in Astoria, stretched out in -a straight, treeless line of two-family brick houses, each set back -about thirty feet from the sidewalk. In general appearance, all the -buildings were pretty much alike, although here and there a gaily -painted front porch and cottage shutters hinted at the presence of a -more imaginative homeowner. - -The street was almost deserted. But then it was nearly one-thirty. The -men were away at their jobs and the children at school. Peggy looked at -the envelope in her hand. The address read 3612 Paradise Avenue. The bus -driver had given her precise directions. This should be the 3600 block. -Peggy moved slowly down the street, searching for the first house -number. There it was--3601. That meant the house she wanted must be -diagonally across the street. Peggy trotted over, ticked off the -numbers, and stopped in front of a reddish-brown brick house. She turned -up the walk, mounted the stairs, and reached out for the bell. As she -touched it, she felt a strange sense of excitement build up inside her. -The bell echoed hollowly. Peggy pressed it a second time. - -"Just a minute!" came a woman's voice. - -Peggy stepped back and waited. Then she saw that the brick wasn't brick -at all, but some sort of imitation material. All the houses on the block -must have been built the same way. It told of a lower middle-class -neighborhood that prided itself on neatness and hoped for better times -to come. - -Suddenly, without warning, the door swung open and Peggy was face to -face with a middle-aged woman who peered at her suspiciously. When she -saw her caller was a young girl, the woman opened the door a little -wider. - -"Yes?" she asked. - -Peggy put on her most pleasant smile and moved forward. "Good -afternoon," she said. "I'm looking for someone. A Mr. Tom Agate. Does he -live here?" - -"Agate?" The woman said. She shook her head slowly. "Nobody by that name -here." - -"I know he lived here four years ago," Peggy said hopefully. "He was an -elderly gentleman." - -"Retired?" - -Peggy's heart leaped. "Yes. He was retired." - -The woman opened the door all the way and motioned Peggy inside. "There -_was_ a retired gentleman living with us. He rented the rear bedroom. -But his name was Anderson." - -Peggy reached for the photograph. "I wonder if you'd recognize him if -you saw his picture?" - -The lady of the house nodded unhesitatingly. "Oh, yes, I'd know him." -She squinted at the photograph, took a closer look and blinked. "Let me -get my glasses," she said, turning away to go into the living room. "And -shut the front door. It's getting chilly." - -Peggy did as she was told and waited for the woman's return. The tiny -front hall was spotlessly clean and cheerily decorated with flowered -prints and a single gold-framed mirror over a mahogany console table. -Both furniture and floors were polished to a high gloss. Peggy sensed -that this was a home where everything was dusted twice a day and where -nothing was allowed to disturb a well-established routine. - -"Are you a relative of Mr. Anderson's?" The woman was back with a pair -of plain glasses perched on her nose. Peggy saw that she was wearing -soft bedroom slippers which accounted for her silent tread. - -"Not exactly," Peggy admitted. She wondered how to explain her interest. -The real story would be too complicated to tell. "I'm just a friend. -Actually," she added hastily, "a friend of a friend. You see," she said -with sudden inspiration, "Mr. Agate--the man I'm looking for--has had a -stroke of good fortune, and I've been assigned the job of finding him." - -The woman stared at Peggy with new respect. "I see," she said solemnly. -"Then you're a private investigator?" - -"Well, sort of," Peggy answered. - -The woman leaned forward. "Did he fall into an inheritance?" she asked -in a hushed voice. - -Peggy gulped and spoke in an equally quiet voice. "I'm afraid I can't -talk about it," she whispered. - -The woman nodded conspiratorially. "I quite understand, my dear. Forgive -me for asking." - -Peggy reassured her with a smile and held out the photograph. The woman -studied it for a moment and slowly began to nod her head. "That's the -man," she said at last. "That's Mr. Anderson. I always said he was a -real gentleman. Even though he did play the banjo." She said the last -with just a trace of exasperation as though playing the banjo was far -too frivolous an occupation for a reliable person. - -"Yes," Peggy said excitedly. "That would be Mr. Agate." - -The woman shook her head sadly. "I wonder why he changed his name?" Her -expression hardened into a severe frown of disapproval. "It doesn't -sound like the proper thing to do. I mean, it sounds as if he wanted to -hide something. I never would have let him stay here if I'd known about -that." - -"I'm sure you're very careful," Peggy broke in. "But--" - -"This is a respectable house," the woman said primly. - -"Oh, I can see that," Peggy assured her. "But when did Mr. Agate leave -you? And do you know where he went?" - -Tom Agate's erstwhile landlady pressed her lips together in a thin line. -"I don't know anything about him," she said shortly. "You just can't -trust people these days. Why, I was saying to Maude Benson the other -day...." - -Peggy realized that she was going to have to think and talk quickly in -order to get information out of the woman. "I know how you must feel," -Peggy soothed. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "But Mr. -Agate's had a very sad life." - -The woman stopped and stared at Peggy with fresh interest. "Really!" - -"Oh, yes," Peggy said gravely. "He was orphaned at an early age. The -only person to take care of him was a distant cousin who tried to -disinherit him." - -The woman was clearly shocked. "No!" - -"Yes. You see, Mr. Agate is the rightful heir to the Agate fortune." -Peggy held her fingers up to her lips. "Now you mustn't breathe this to -a soul." The woman nodded breathlessly. "But Mr. Agate is the only son -of Henry Agate. You know," she prompted, "_the_ Agate family. One of the -wealthiest in America." - -The woman looked at Peggy in round-eyed wonder. "Oh, yes," she said. -"The Agates." - -"Of course, everybody's heard of them," Peggy said in an offhanded -manner. "And that's why Mr. Agate didn't like to use the name." - -The woman brightened considerably. "Isn't that the most romantic thing -you ever heard of!" she practically crooned. "And to think that he was -living right in our house! Just wait until I tell Maude!" - -"Oh, you mustn't!" Peggy cautioned. "You promised!" - -"That's right, I did." She patted Peggy on the shoulder. "Don't worry, -my dear, you can trust me." - -"Well, now," Peggy went on in a more businesslike voice, "have you any -idea where we can find Mr. Agate?" She put a slight emphasis on the "we" -in order to give the woman a feeling that she was part of the search. - -The woman suddenly clapped her hands together. "I just remembered -something. When Mr. Agate left here two years ago he told me where he -was going. It was a place way over in Baywater on the other side of Long -Island. I remember thinking it was rather strange to go so far off, but -then he said he wanted to live near the ocean." - -"Did he give an address?" - -The woman shook her head regretfully. "No, he refused to leave any. He -said there wouldn't be any mail. And there wasn't." - -"Can't you remember anything more than that?" - -The woman closed her eyes. "Yes," she said slowly. "He let the address -slip once. It was Tidewater Road, I'm sure of that." - -"And the number?" - -There was a sigh. "I can't--wait a minute. I think it was twenty-nine -hundred something Tidewater Road." She opened her eyes eagerly. "Yes, I -know it was. It was the twenty-nine-hundred block." - -Peggy hurriedly slipped the photograph back in its envelope. "Well, -thank you very much," she said. "You've been most helpful." - -"I wish I could have done more for poor Mr. Agate. He really was such a -nice gentleman." - -"If I locate him, I'll give him your regards," Peggy promised. - -The woman danced nervously around Peggy, obviously reluctant to see her -go. "Won't you stay for a cup of tea, my dear?" - -Peggy declined as gracefully as she could. "I'm afraid I can't. I'm -going to have to get to Baywater this afternoon." - -The woman was now eager to help. "If you take the number fourteen bus -down at the end of the block, it will get you to the Long Island -Railroad Station. I'm sorry I don't have a timetable." - -"That's perfectly all right," Peggy said, edging toward the door. "I'll -be able to manage. Thank you again." Peggy turned the handle of the -front door and stepped out on the porch. - -As Peggy fled down the steps, she heard a muffled "good-by" as the door -slammed shut. That would be the woman on her way to the telephone to -tell Maude Whatever-her-name-was all about the famous Mr. Agate. Well, -let her, Peggy thought to herself with a smile. No harm in that. - -She directed her footsteps to the bus stop at the corner. "Tidewater -Road," she murmured to herself. "Not much to go on, but I'm not going to -give up now." - - - - - IX - The One-Eyed Giant - - -Paradise Avenue, with its imitation brick houses and neat garden plots, -might have had some pretensions, but Tidewater Road had none. Here the -houses were built of frame, most of them in need of a new coat of paint, -many of them badly wanting repairs. Even the streets seemed uncared for. -Scraps of old newspapers rustled in the gutters, and the pavement itself -was cracked and worn. Looking at its bleak row of buildings, Peggy felt -like catching the next train back to the city. Tom Agate couldn't be -living here. - -She had to remind herself that she had made a promise as she crossed the -street and approached the first house on the block. A child's tricycle, -one wheel twisted awkwardly out of shape, lay on its side across the -steps. Peggy picked her way gingerly around it, crossed the porch, and -put her finger on the bell. No sound came from the house so she tried -knocking. - -"Yeah?" came a thin, querulous voice, but inside the house nothing -moved. - -Peggy stepped back, wondering what to do next. "Excuse me," she called -at last. "I wonder if you could give me some information." - -"We don't want none," answered the same voice. - -"I'm not selling anything," Peggy replied. "I just want some help." - -There was a moment's silence and then the shuffling of feet. A -suspicious face appeared at the door and examined Peggy narrowly. It was -an older woman, dressed in a worn housecoat with her hair up in pin -curls. - -"Yeah? Whatcha want?" - -Peggy fumbled at her envelope and drew out the photograph. "I'm trying -to locate somebody," she said. "I understand that he lives in this -neighborhood, and I wonder if you know him?" She held out the picture -for inspection. - -The door opened a little wider as the woman leaned down to examine the -photograph. The pin curls gave a decisive shake. - -"Naw. Never saw him." - -The next instant the door was slammed shut and Peggy found herself alone -on the porch. She made her way carefully back down the steps and out to -the sidewalk. Finding Tom Agate was going to be much harder than she had -anticipated. - -There was no answer at the next house. In the one following lived a -woman who spoke no English. The trail became warmer at the third house -where a woman said she thought the face looked familiar, but couldn't -place it. The next five houses were blanks. - -By now it was well after four o'clock in the afternoon. Peggy knew she -had time for only two or three more calls before taking the train back -to New York. Peter Grey had arranged to meet her at the Broadway -Drugstore on Forty-eighth Street at eight-thirty, giving her barely -enough time to get back to the city, bolt down some supper, and keep her -appointment. But the next three houses could give her no fresh -information and Peggy decided that she had had enough for one day. She -would return in the morning and finish the rest of the houses on the -block. - -As she turned to retrace her footsteps to the bus stop on the corner, -her eye was caught by a bright flash of color. Four doors down from -where she stood was a house decorated with two window boxes full of fall -flowers. Peggy wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. The house -itself was weatherworn, and like all the other houses on the block, in -need of a fresh coat of paint. But somehow it gave the impression of a -home that had been carefully tended. The porch was neat, the lawn had -been recently raked of leaves, and someone had even tried to trim the -hedges. Standing in the midst of such careless neglect, the house seemed -to sparkle with life and friendly invitation. - -Before she realized it, Peggy was standing at the front door, listening -to a set of chimes peal softly at her touch. The door was opened by a -pleasant-looking woman who was drying her hands on a towel. When she saw -Peggy, her face broke into a smile of welcome. - -"Come in," she said. "You caught me washing some things in the kitchen." - -Peggy stepped into a clean, simply furnished front hall. "I'm sorry to -interrupt you," she said. "But I'm trying to locate someone, and I -thought maybe you could help me." Peggy displayed her photograph again -and waited for the reaction. But this time, instead of a blank stare and -a quick shake of the head, she was met with an exclamation of surprise. - -"But that's Mr. Armour!" the woman cried in a delighted voice. - -"Mr. Armour?" - -"Yes. He lived with us for over a year and a half." - -"You mean he's moved?" Peggy heard the disappointment in her own voice. -Tom Agate had chosen another name. - -"I'm afraid he has," the woman said. She beckoned Peggy into the living -room. "Here, won't you come in for a few moments? You look tired." - -"Well, yes, I am," Peggy admitted. "I've been going since early this -morning." - -"Trying to find Mr. Armour?" the woman asked, sitting down in an easy -chair. - -Peggy nodded as she took a chair near the door. "Yes. It's a terribly -complicated story, but believe me, it's important that I locate him." - -"I'll be happy to tell you all I know," the woman said. "A little less -than two years ago, Mr. Armour rang my front doorbell and asked if he -could rent a room. Well, I had never rented a room before, but it just -so happened that my son had recently left home." The woman smiled shyly. -"He had just gotten married, you see." - -Peggy smiled back and nodded. - -"He has a little baby girl now. Lives in upstate New York. We'll be -going to see them for Thanksgiving." The woman paused and laughed. "But -you don't want to hear about that. Anyway," she said, returning to her -story, "I told him all right and about a week later he moved in. Well, -we couldn't have had a nicer man in our house--not even if we had picked -him ourselves. Always cheerful he was, and very quiet." - -"You say he was quiet?" Peggy interrupted. "Didn't he ever play the -banjo?" - -The woman beamed. "He certainly did. He used to play it for us in the -evenings. He was very good, you know." - -Peggy nodded. "Yes, I know. Do you remember any of the tunes he used to -play?" - -"Let's see now. Well, he played all the old favorites--Stephen Foster -and ... oh, I can't remember what-all." - -"Did he ever play 'Kathleen Aroon'?" - -"How did you know that?" the woman cried. "That was one he did all the -time. Beautiful too. Simply lovely." - -Peggy sighed. It must have been Tom Agate. She wondered if he was still -calling himself Armour. He seemed to change his name each time he moved. - -"What happened to him?" she asked. - -"He left us. About three months ago." - -Three months! Peggy almost groaned aloud. "Have you any idea where he -went?" - -The woman shook her head slowly. "No. He didn't leave a forwarding -address. He said there wouldn't be any mail." - -This matched the story Peggy had heard earlier that afternoon. "He -didn't give you any hint about where he was going?" - -"No. None at all." The woman looked at Peggy sympathetically. "I'm -sorry. I wish I could help you, but I'm afraid...." - -"Do you know why he left?" - -The woman paused and stared down at the floor. "I think so," she said in -a troubled voice. "It was because he couldn't afford to pay the rent any -more. I was perfectly willing to let him stay, but he insisted on going. -He said that he couldn't allow himself to accept charity. I tried to -explain that his presence gave us real pleasure and that was payment -enough, but he wouldn't listen. One day he went out and just never came -back...." Her voice trailed off and she shrugged helplessly. - -"Didn't he take his banjo with him?" - -"Yes, he took that. But not very far." - -"What do you mean?" - -"There's a little boy in the house next door. Tommy Stanton, his name -is. Mr. Armour was very fond of Tommy. They used to spend hours -together. He even taught Tommy how to play the banjo a little, and -before he left, he gave it to him." - -Peggy passed a hand across her forehead. Every trail seemed to lead to a -dead end. Tom Agate had disappeared without a trace. Peggy finally -gathered herself together and stood up. "Thank you very much," she said. -"I guess that just about finishes any chance of finding my friend." - -"I guess so," the woman agreed sadly. "Unless"--she got up and put her -finger against her lips--"you want ... listen," she whispered. "There's -Tommy playing now." - -Peggy listened carefully and heard the sound of a banjo being plucked. -It seemed to be coming from the back yard. "Maybe Tommy knows something -about him. Would you like to ask?" the woman inquired. - -"I certainly would," Peggy said, moving toward the front door. - -"Here," cried the woman, taking her by the arm. "Come around the back -way. It's quicker." - -Moving quietly, the woman led the way through the kitchen and out the -back door into the yard. The sound of the banjo was now loud and clear. -"Tommy!" cried the woman. "Oh, Tommy! Can you come here a minute?" - -The music stopped and in a moment a small tousled head appeared over a -back fence. "Hello, Tommy," the woman said in a friendly voice. "This -nice young lady said she wanted to meet you." - -[Illustration: _A small tousled head appeared over a back fence._] - -The face above the fence gave a scowl of annoyance but held its -position. Peggy walked over and smiled. "How do you do, Tommy?" she -said. "I like the way you play the banjo." - -There was no answer to this. A pair of eyes gazed at her steadily, and -Peggy could hear the sound of a foot impatiently kicking the other side -of the fence. She decided that flattery was going to get her nowhere -with Tommy, and abandoned it for a more direct approach. - -"I bet I know who taught you how to play," she said. "It was Mr. Armour, -wasn't it?" - -The scuffing stopped and Peggy thought she detected a flash of interest. -She held out the picture to the little boy. "That's Mr. Armour, isn't -it?" - -The boy's eyes grew round and he nodded his head briefly. "You know Mr. -Armour?" he said in a matter-of-fact voice. - -"No," Peggy admitted. "I don't. But I want to." - -"Why?" Tommy demanded. "You want to learn how to play?" - -"I wouldn't mind." - -Tommy nodded. "He can teach you. He can teach anybody." He eyed her -moodily. "Even girls." - -"I bet he can," Peggy said, wondering why all little boys seemed to have -such vast scorn where girls were concerned. "The only trouble is," she -went on, "I don't know where to find him. Do you know?" - -The kicking on the other side of the fence started in again. Tommy -lowered his eyes and stared at Peggy's feet. "It's a secret," he -muttered. - -"What is?" - -"Where Mr. Armour went." - -Peggy's heart almost missed a beat. She tried to keep her voice calm. -"Can't you tell me?" - -The kicking increased to a thunderous volley. "Nope," Tommy said -abruptly. - -"Oh, please," Peggy begged. "I want to see him so badly." - -Tommy's lower lip stuck out as he considered Peggy's request. "I want to -see him too," he announced. - -"Well, if you tell me where he is," Peggy said, "maybe I can get him to -come back." - -The kicking stopped a second time as Tommy paused to appraise this new -idea. Then quite suddenly, he disappeared. For a moment Peggy thought he -had gone back into his house, but the next instant, a gate swung open -and Tommy marched into the yard, holding a banjo in one hand. He stopped -in front of Peggy and looked at her earnestly. "Honest?" he said. "You -really think you can get him to come see me?" - -"I'll try," Peggy promised. "I'll try as hard as I can." - -Indecision was stamped all over Tommy's face, but in the end the desire -to see his old friend won out. - -"He's gone far away from here," he said in a clear voice that left no -room for doubt. - -"How far?" - -"To a place where there are kings and queens and all sorts of magic -things. There's a one-eyed giant there who looks after everybody and -sees to it that everybody is happy. Mr. Armour told me. He said he'd -always be happy 'cause he'd be with friends. It's a place where -everybody lives in trunks." - -"In trunks!" Peggy exclaimed. - -Tommy nodded solemnly. "That's what he said. He told me I mustn't miss -him too much on account of he was going to be very, very happy and -safe." - -"Did he say where this place was?" - -Tommy shook his head. "Just that it's far away." - -Peggy and the woman looked at each other blankly. Kings and queens who -lived in trunks with a one-eyed giant to guard them! It didn't make -_any_ sense. - -"When you find him," Tommy was saying, "tell him I can play lots better -now, and I want him to come and hear me." - -"I will," Peggy said automatically. "I'll tell him." - -"Okay," Tommy said with a satisfied nod. "I gotta go now." - -"All right." Peggy held out her hand, but Tommy backed resolutely away -from it. He turned and ran for the gate. "G'by," he called. - -"Good-by," Peggy said. The gate swung open and Tommy disappeared. - -A one-eyed giant! Where on earth could Tom Agate be living? Peggy turned -thoughtfully back to the house. - - - - - X - Tom Agate - - -"Honestly, Peter, that's what he said." - -Peter Grey lowered his cup into his saucer. "Kings and queens," he -muttered incredulously. - -"And don't forget the one-eyed giant," Peggy reminded him. - -"Don't worry, I'm not," Peter assured her, "but I'd rather think about -one thing at a time." - -Peggy and Peter were sitting in a back booth of the Broadway Drugstore. -Outside, the streets were comparatively empty. Half an hour earlier they -had been jammed curb to curb with honking taxicabs threading through -thousands of hurrying people on their way to an evening at the theater, -a first-run movie, or a late dinner. But by now everyone had reached his -destination. The streets off Broadway would be quiet for another two -hours. Then, as if some unseen force had released a floodgate, the big -doors to the theaters and movie palaces would swing open, and the rush -would begin all over again. - -"Do you think it was all his imagination?" Peter was asking. - -Peggy shook her head. "I'm sure he didn't make it up," she said. - -"I don't mean the boy," Peter said. "I mean Tom." - -"Why would he do that?" - -"To cheer up the little boy. To keep him from being sad about his -leaving." - -Peggy toyed with her cup of tea. "I don't know," she said at last. -"Maybe it all means something. Maybe Johnny Dwyer could help us." - -"Yes, but not until tomorrow morning," Peter pointed out. "And we don't -have that much time left." He drummed his fingers impatiently on the -table. "We've got to figure it out tonight." He pushed his coffee cup to -one side. "Let's start at the beginning and try to put ourselves in Tom -Agate's position. First of all, how much do we know?" - -"Well," Peggy said thoughtfully, "we know that three months ago he ran -out of money and left the house on Tidewater Road. It seems to me that -there are four possibilities." - -"All right. Let's have them." - -"He found a job." - -Peter shook his head. "That's not likely. All he knew was the theater. -And if he had gotten a job in show business people would have heard -about it." - -"What about some other kind of job?" - -"What could he do? He was too old to be hired for a regular position." - -"Let's not throw out that possibility yet," Peggy cautioned. "He might -have found something like a night watchman or a caretaker." - -"Yes," Peter admitted, "that's true. But why did he wait so long? Why -didn't he do it years ago before he was completely broke?" - -"I don't know. Let's put it aside for the moment and go on to the second -possibility. He went to some member of his family." - -"Absolutely not," Peter declared. "He didn't have any." - -"None at all?" - -"Oh, yes, he once had a wife," Peter said. "But it didn't work out." - -"Do you know where she is?" - -"I don't even know _who_ she is. I don't know whether they were divorced -or not. But they parted years ago. As a matter of fact, I once heard -that there was some bitterness there, so I doubt if he'd find a warm -reception if he went back." - -"So returning to his family is out?" - -"I'm afraid so. What's your third possibility?" - -"He might have gone to a friend." - -Peter considered this carefully. "Maybe," he said at last. "But Tom -seems to be a pretty proud old codger, the kind who wouldn't accept -charity. Besides, Johnny Dwyer was one of his closest friends, and even -he doesn't know where he is. What's next?" - -Peggy lowered her eyes. "I--I don't like even to think of it," she -murmured. "But maybe...." - -"Suicide?" Peter said incredulously. "Never! I'd bet anything on that. -Tom wouldn't go out that way. He's got too much courage." - -"Well then, where does that leave us?" - -Peter leaned back in the booth and signaled the counterman for another -order. "I'd rule out two of your possibilities," he said slowly, -"leaving us with two alternatives. Either he's found a job or he's gone -to live with an old friend." Peter reached out and made room for the two -fresh cups as they were brought to the table. The counterman collected -the empties and retreated behind the rows of soda stools. - -"Which one do you think it is?" Peggy asked as she stirred her tea. - -Peter shrugged helplessly. "That's the trouble," he said moodily. "I -can't believe that Tom has a job. My original objection still stands. -Why didn't he get one earlier? On the other hand, he just isn't the type -to sponge off an old friend, no matter how close they once were." - -"But, Peter," Peggy said with a trace of a smile, "you can't eliminate -everything. It's got to be something." - -"I know, I know," Peter said impatiently. "That's the whole trouble. And -where does it all fit in with this story of kings and queens and people -living inside trunks?" He rested his elbows on the table and cupped his -chin in his hands. "I feel like a dog that's trying to chase his tail. -I'm going round and round, but can't quite catch it." - -"I've got an idea," Peggy said suddenly. "How about combining the two -possibilities?" - -"What do you mean?" - -"Suppose he _is_ living with an old friend and has a job at the same -time--like taking care of the friend's place of business at night?" - -Peter looked interested. "Say," he said admiringly, "that sounds good. -But what kind of business?" - -"Something to do with--" - -"Oh, no," Peter groaned. "Not one-eyed giants, please." - -"It's the only thing that makes any sense," Peggy insisted. - -"But what sort of business is that?" Peter complained. "A freak show -someplace?" - -Before Peggy had a chance to reply, she heard her name being called out -and looked up to see a young girl on her way to their table. Peter -turned around in his seat with ill-concealed annoyance. The girl seemed -to be bubbling over with good news and was likely to stay awhile. - -"Peggy!" cried the girl. "I'm so happy for you. I just heard about your -getting the part today. When do you start on tour?" - -"Not for another five weeks," Peggy replied, sliding over. "Won't you -sit down?" - -The girl shook her head. "I can't. I've had such an exhausting day. But -I saw you from the street and simply had to come in and tell you how -wonderful I think it is." She reached out and put a hand on Peter's -shoulder as he struggled to his feet. "No, please don't get up." She -smiled. "I'm on my way home." - -"At least let me introduce you two," Peggy said. "Anna, this is Peter -Grey. Peter, Anna Warwick, a friend from drama school." - -"How do you do," Anna said. "You're with Mr. Stalkey's office, aren't -you?" Without giving Peter a chance to answer, she turned back to Peggy. -"I don't think I've ever had such a day," she confided. "You know I'm in -an off-Broadway company. We open in less than two weeks." - -"No, I didn't know that," Peggy said. "Congratulations. What's the -play?" - -Anna shrugged her shoulders. "Heavens, I don't know. It's a new play all -in verse. They keep changing the name every other day. Anyway, it's in -costume and has a perfectly _huge_ cast. And that's where the trouble -comes in. They're trying to save money, so they brought us all down to -this horrid little junk shop to rummage around for costumes. I've been -there all day, and I'm simply dead on my feet." - -"What's the name of the place?" Peggy asked without much interest. - -"I'm sure you know it," Anna said breezily. "You must have passed it a -hundred times. It's just down the street here. Syd Walsh's Theatrical -Costumes. It's way up on the top floor of the building. I can't tell you -how stuffy and smelly, but, my dear, they _do_ have the most fabulous -costumes. He pried open some trunks that hadn't been looked into for -years, I suppose, and came out with--well, with exquisite materials. I -can't think where he got them all. They must have been--" - -"Syd Walsh!" Peter almost shouted the name. "On West Forty-ninth -Street?" - -Anna looked at him in surprise. "Yes," she said. "That's the place." - -Peter threw some money down on the table and slid out of the booth. -"Come on," he said with mounting excitement. "Come on, Peggy. Let's go." - -Anna blinked at him and moved aside to give Peggy room. "He's closed -now," she said in a mystified voice. - -"I know, I know," Peter said impatiently, grabbing Peggy by the arm. -"That's just the right time to go." He leaned forward and shook Anna's -hand warmly. "Thank you. Thank you very much. I can't tell you how much -help you've been. Nice meeting you. G'by." - -"Yes, but"--Anna faltered, "I haven't done a thing." - -Peter patted her on the hand. "You just don't know." Taking Peggy by the -arm, he rushed her down the aisle and into the revolving doors at the -drugstore entrance. As she spun out into the street, Peggy caught a last -glimpse of Anna's face as she sat bolt upright in the deserted booth. -Her look was one of complete bafflement. - -Peter guided Peggy deftly through the traffic and started up the block -with long, loping strides. - -"Peter," Peggy cried. "What's going on?" - -"It's Syd Walsh," Peter explained. An expression of absolute certainty -was on his face. "Syd Walsh is another old-timer like Tom Agate and -Johnny Dwyer. But instead of being a song-and-dance man, he was a -vaudeville magician. Sydney the Great, he called himself. He retired -years ago and started a theatrical costume and prop shop." - -"But what makes you think--?" Peggy asked as she ran to keep up. - -"Syd Walsh," Peter said, "was known as the tallest man in vaudeville. He -was six foot five at least. And," Peter added significantly, "he had -only one eye. He wore a black patch for all his performances." - -"The one-eyed giant!" Peggy breathed. - -"That's it," Peter said. "It all fits together now. The kings and -queens--Tom was talking about Syd's costumes." - -"And the trunks, too," Peggy cried. "Memories in trunks! Old theatrical -costumes!" - -"Right," Peter said, as they turned the corner of Forty-ninth Street. -"Tom Agate's got a job looking after Syd Walsh's costume shop at night. -I'm convinced of it." - -Peter pulled to a stop in the middle of the block and scanned the -darkened buildings. "It's right around here," he muttered. "I remember -coming here years ago." - -"There it is!" cred Peggy, pointing to a plate-glass window on the fifth -floor of a dingy brownstone building. Across the front of the glass was -lettered: Syd Walsh's Theatrical Costumes. The light of a street lamp -barely caught the faded sign. - -Peter took her by the arm. "Come on," he said. "In we go." - -The next instant they were standing in a cramped lobby in front of the -iron grillwork of an old-fashioned elevator. Peter reached out and -pushed the button. A bell jangled down in the elevator shaft. The old -building seemed deserted. - -"How about the stairs?" For some reason, Peggy was whispering. Peter -nodded wordlessly and turned into a corridor behind the elevator. -Through the gloom of a single night light, Peggy could see stairs -leading upward. - -"Take a deep breath," Peter advised over his shoulder. "It's on the -fifth floor." - -"I'm right behind you," Peggy assured him. - -Slowly, they made their ascent. On the second floor they passed the -bolted front door of a sporting goods manufacturer. The third floor was -occupied by a firm that specialized in trimmings for ladies' hats. The -night light on the fourth floor was out and Peggy couldn't read the name -on the door. - -"Peter," she whispered through the darkness, "Where are you?" - -There was a shuffling step in front of her and a hand reached out for -hers. "Here," came the answering whisper. "Just one flight more." - -About halfway up the last flight, Peggy felt Peter freeze. His hand -tightened over hers. Catching her breath, Peggy tried to peer through -the inky gloom. Then she heard the sound of a banjo being played. It -seemed to come from a great distance. - -Peter advanced a few more steps, made a sharp right turn, and stopped on -a landing. In front of them a thin slit of pale yellow light illuminated -the floor. They were now standing directly in front of the door that led -to Syd Walsh's shop. From the other side Peggy heard a soft voice -singing the tune that had recently become so familiar to her. - -Moving very slowly, Peter turned the handle of the door and opened it a -crack. By crowding behind him, Peggy could see the interior of the shop. -It was a jumble of old boxes, trunks, musty figures clothed in period -costumes. Masks of all descriptions leered down from the walls, and in -one cabinet there was a shadowy row of wigs. The singing was clearer now -and Peter pushed in a little farther. - -In one corner of the room, half hidden by what Peggy assumed was a -worktable, stood a white-haired old man. One leg was planted easily on a -low stool, and cradled lovingly in his arms was a banjo. The words of -his song floated quietly through the absolute stillness of the shop and -Peggy suddenly realized that she was in the presence of a true artist--a -man who could take a simple instrument and a familiar folk melody and -weave a magic spell capable of moving an entire audience. - -The song whispered to its husky, haunting conclusion, and the old man -stood bowed over his instrument. - -Perhaps it was Peter or maybe it was some sudden movement of hers, but -the door moved forward another inch and, through the quiet, there -suddenly rang a sharp tinkle of a bell. The old man with the banjo -straightened up and whirled around to face the intruders. - -Shielding his eyes with one hand, he advanced toward the door. "Who's -there?" he challenged. "Who is it?" - - - - - XI - A Star Comes Back - - -Directly in front of her, Peggy felt Peter grow tense, then suddenly -relax as he shouldered his way into the shop. "Mr. Agate," he called in -a reassuring voice. "It's all right. We don't mean any harm." - -Tom Agate stared at them in amazement. Peggy noticed that his eyes were -a bright china-blue that contrasted strongly with his fair complexion -and white hair. "How--" he began. "How did you manage...?" - -"To find you?" Peter said. "Well, it wasn't easy, but this is the young -lady who did the tracking down." He reached around and brought Peggy up -into the light. - -Tom Agate looked at both of them in turn and then slowly chuckled. -"Excuse my manners," he said, sweeping some material from a bench. "But -I'm not used to visitors up here. I'd be interested to know how you -located me, Miss--" - -"Peggy Lane," Peggy said, holding out her hand. "And this is Peter -Grey." - -Tom Agate acknowledged the introductions and sat down on a three-legged -stool. "All right now," he said. "I didn't think anyone in the world -knew where I was. Except Syd, of course." - -"We didn't know either," Peggy said, "until a few minutes ago. You see, -this morning I went out to Paradise Avenue and talked to your old -landlady." - -"Oh, yes." Tom nodded vigorously. "But how did you know about that?" - -"Johnny Dwyer," Peter said simply. - -Tom Agate shook his head. "I thought he'd be one man with enough sense -to keep his mouth shut." - -"Don't blame Johnny," Peggy said. "He didn't want to say a word." - -"Well, what made him?" - -"Peggy convinced him," Peter said with a smile. - -Tom turned his blue eyes on Peggy and nodded slowly. "I imagine you can -be pretty persuasive if you want to be. But it's still a long way from -Paradise Avenue to this place." - -"Don't I know it," Peggy said. "Your landlady told me you had moved." - -"She didn't know where," Tom said. - -"No, she didn't," Peggy agreed. "But she seemed to remember something -about a place called Tidewater Road." - -Tom Agate shook his head ruefully. "That woman," he said. "I never could -keep a thing from her. She had a nose built for prying into other -people's business. So you went out to Tidewater, eh?" - -Peggy nodded. "I didn't know the address so I tried all the houses." - -"You were a brave girl," Tom said with concern. "That's not the best -part of town." - -"I didn't run into any trouble," Peggy assured him. "Anyway, finally I -came to this nice-looking house where the woman remembered you." - -"Yes, that would be Mrs. Mullins," Tom said. He looked at Peggy sharply. -"But I was using a different name then." - -"I know," Peggy replied. "Mr. Armour. That was how she knew you." - -Tom Agate looked puzzled. "But how did _you_ know that name?" - -"I didn't," Peggy told him. "But I had a picture of you. Johnny Dwyer -gave it to me." - -"And you tracked me down with that?" Tom sounded incredulous. - -"That's all I had to go on." - -Tom Agate stared at the two young people in front of him and slowly -shook his head. "Well, you certainly have gone to a lot of trouble," he -said at last. "I hope it's been worth it to you, but I can't imagine -what you want." - -"We want to talk to you, Mr. Agate," Peter said. - -Tom Agate crossed his legs and leaned back. "All right," he said -amiably. "Go right ahead." - -Peggy reached forward and touched Peter on the arm. "Let me say it," she -said. When Peter nodded briefly, Peggy stood up and shifted over to a -chair beside Tom. "Mr. Agate," she said in a low, earnest voice, "we -want you back." - -Tom Agate looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Back where?" he -asked sharply. - -"In the theater." - -For a long moment Tom Agate sat perfectly still, his face -expressionless. Then he slowly got up and moved away. When he turned to -face them, Peggy saw he was smiling. "Thank you, Miss Lane," he said -gently. "Thanks for the compliment. But I've learned that in this life -you can't go back." - -"That's not so," Peggy declared hotly. "You can if you want to." - -The old man looked at her tolerantly. "You may be wise for your years, -my dear. But I think I know better." - -Peggy held her ground. "No," she said. "The point is, you've got to -_want_ to come back. There's got to be some reason." - -Tom Agate shrugged. "Maybe. But you see, I don't think I want to." - -"Why not?" demanded Peggy. - -Tom frowned slightly. "You ask too many questions." - -"Oh, Mr. Agate," Peggy said, "I don't want to pry into your personal -life. That's what I told Johnny Dwyer this morning. I'm sure you had a -good reason to leave the stage. But don't you think it's time to -reconsider?" - -Tom returned to his stool. "All right, Miss Lane," he said. "It's my -turn to do some asking. Why do you think it's time? Why _should_ I come -back?" - -Peggy accepted the challenge. "There are two reasons," she declared. -"First of all, you're not happy here." She stopped him as he started to -protest. "It won't do you any good to deny it. You're living in a -self-imposed exile--not because you want to, but because you think you -should. As I said before, I don't know the reasons, but I do know that -running away is no answer." - -"Running away--" said Tom. - -Peggy nodded her head firmly. "That's what I said. Let me finish before -you start." Tom settled back and nodded. "The second reason," Peggy went -on, "is that you're needed." - -"Who needs me?" Tom asked in a contemptuous voice. - -"I do for one," Peggy said. "I'm just starting out in the theater, Mr. -Agate. You know so much and I know so little. When I think of the things -you could tell me--the things you could teach me!" Peggy paused and -lowered her voice. "Let me try to explain this way. Today--this -afternoon--I met a little boy. His name is Tommy Stanton. Actually, he -was the one who led me here." - -The old man started. "Tommy!" he cried delightedly. "How is he?" - -"He's lonely," Peggy said. "He misses you. You taught him how to play -the banjo and he loved you for it. He's been practicing every day, Mr. -Agate, and he's much better than he was before. He told me to tell you -that." - -"Tommy said that?" - -"Yes. And he said another thing. He said that he wanted you to come back -because he wanted to play for you. He's proud of what he's learned, but -he needs more help. Your help." Peggy reached out and took one of Tom -Agate's hands in hers. "In a way, we're like Tommy Stanton. We need you -and we want you." - -The old man sat silently, making no effort to remove his hand. "I can't -come back with the same old routines," he said. "People are tired of -them. They've heard them all a thousand times. There's no point in -returning with the old familiar bag of tricks." - -"But you don't have to," Peggy cried. "There are all sorts of new things -for you to do." - -"What, for instance?" - -"A play. You've never acted in a straight play before. Think of it! Tom -Agate in a play!" - -Tom smiled wanly. "You're very good to say all this, but I haven't -noticed anybody beating down the doors to ask me." - -"That's because no one has had the imagination before. But Peter has." - -"Peter?" - -"Yes, Peter Grey here. He works in Oscar Stalkey's office." - -A light seemed to flicker in the old man's eyes. - -"Oscar Stalkey," he said with a smile. "How is the old boy? Still as -enthusiastic as ever?" - -"Just the same, Mr. Agate," Peter answered. "And he's got a play for -you." - -Tom sat up. "Did _he_ say that?" - -Peggy nodded. "Peter suggested you, and Mr. Stalkey was wild over the -idea." - -"What's the play?" - -"_Innocent Laughter._" - -"_Innocent Laughter!_" Tom Agate looked at Peggy and Peter in amazement. -"But that's a hit! I understand it's the biggest thing this season." - -"It is," Peggy said. "Oscar Stalkey's forming a road company of it. I'm -to be general understudy and Peter is company manager." - -"But what sort of a part could I play?" - -"Let me tell you about _Innocent Laughter_," Peggy said, settling -herself in her chair. Tom Agate nodded agreement and for the next few -minutes, Peggy outlined the plot and the possibilities in the play. - -"... so you see," she finished at last, "the part of the grandfather is -simply made to order for you." - -"Who's playing it now?" Tom asked. Peggy saw he was beginning to become -interested. - -"Hiram Baker," Peter said. - -Tom Agate made a disgusted face. "But he's no actor! I remember Hiram as -a youngster!" - -Peter laughed. "Then prove you can do better." - -"That wouldn't be hard," Tom said with a chuckle. He turned to Peggy -with a smile of delight. "And you're the understudy, eh?" Peggy nodded. -"Well, well." He smiled. "Your first real break?" - -"With a professional company--yes." - -"I'd like to hear you read sometime." - -Peggy jumped to her feet and began rummaging through her handbag. "Why -not right now!" she cried. "We can do the scene between the young girl -and her grandfather." - -"We?" Tom exclaimed. - -"Well, I can't do the scene all by myself, can I?" said Peggy, with a -quick look at Peter. "Somebody's got to read the other lines." - -Tom laughed. "All right," he said. "I'll humor you. Give me the script." - -"Here," Peter said, stepping forward. "I've got an extra copy. You keep -yours, Peggy." Peter paced over to one side of the room. "Let me explain -what the set looks like. We'll pretend that this is a door. And you're -sitting over there by the fire...." - -In a few quick words Peter sketched in the scene for Tom Agate. The old -man followed every word, nodding intermittently. - -"I see," he said at last. "Let's try it." He looked over at Peggy. "Are -you all set?" - -Peggy nodded and said, "Start reading your lines when you hear me sigh." -She found her place in the script and took a deep breath. The tiny -darkened shop with its strange shapes and musty odor was very quiet and, -in an odd way, relaxing. With street noises mute and far away, the room -seemed somehow warm and cozy, and Peggy approached the scene ahead with -anticipation and confidence. Quietly, she made her way through the -imaginary door, walked over to the imaginary window, and looked out. She -sighed softly. - -From the other side of the room, she could hear Tom Agate turn slowly in -his chair. "'Why did you come in so quietly?'" he read. His voice was -rich and warm. "'You're as furtive as a lady burglar tonight.'" Here Tom -added a note of gentle humor. "'What's wrong?'" The last phrase was said -perfectly, with just the right amount of concern, but not too -inquisitive. - -"'Oh,'" Peggy heard herself saying, "'I didn't know anybody was here.'" -That was the way! That was the way she had wanted to say it at the -audition! - -"'I'll go if you like.'" - -Suddenly the play had real meaning for Peggy. It became important for -her "grandfather" to stay. "'Oh no!'" she cried in a voice of alarm. -Then more quietly. "'Please don't. There's--there's something I want to -talk to you about.'" - -The scene continued and this time there was no one to stop them. The end -came when Peggy, as the young granddaughter, threw herself down on the -floor beside her grandfather and began to cry. To her surprise, real -tears came to her eyes. - -"'I'm sorry,'" she gulped. "'I didn't mean to cry.'" - -Above her, Tom Agate, still in the role of the grandfather, reached down -and touched her hair. "'There, there,'" he read. "'A person should -always have somebody to cry with. It does the heart good. I may not be -that perfect person, but maybe I'll do for tonight.'" Tom Agate put his -hand gently on her shoulder. "'There, there,'" he repeated. - -And that was the end of the scene. - - -In the breathless hush that followed, Peggy couldn't trust herself to -speak. Even Peter, who never seemed at a loss for words, was silent. But -eventually, he put into words what they all knew. - -"That was beautiful," he said in an oddly choked voice. "Simply -beautiful. It's the way the scene was meant to be played all the time." -He reached down, helped Peggy to her feet, and shook Tom Agate's hand. -"Sir," he said earnestly, "you were magnificent." - -Tom Agate passed a hand over his face. His eyes were lighted with a shy -smile of delight. "Nothing to it," he said. "After all, look at the help -I had." He cocked a quizzical glance at Peter. "Do you mean to say that -this girl here"--he waved a hand at Peggy--"isn't playing the part of -the daughter?" - -"I'm afraid not," Peter admitted. "Just the understudy." - -Tom shook his head. "What a waste!" - -"It certainly is," Peter replied. "But Oscar Stalkey thinks she needs -some more experience. And the right people to work with," he added -significantly. - -"Has he heard her read?" - -"He hired her," Peter pointed out. "He must think she's pretty fair." - -Peggy felt it was time to interrupt. "Look here, you two," she broke in. -"If you're quite finished talking about me as if I weren't here, maybe -we can get back to business." - -The two men looked at her. "What business?" Tom demanded. - -"Will you try out for the part of the grandfather?" - -Tom Agate smiled and walked to one corner of the room. "It's a marvelous -part," he said indecisively. - -"And you're marvelous in it," Peggy insisted. "Say you'll do it." - -Tom looked at Peter seriously. "Did Oscar say he wanted me?" - -"Yes, he did," Peter assured him. - -Tom moved back across the room, walking with the easy step of someone -half his years. Peggy saw that his face was flushed and his eyes were -sparkling with an inner excitement she could only guess at. - -He stopped abruptly and held out his hands to them. "All right," he said -with unexpected forcefulness. "I'll give it a try." - -Peggy ran over to him. "You promise?" she said. "You won't change your -mind?" - -Tom shook his head firmly. "No, Peggy. When I give my word, you can bank -on it." - -Peggy whirled and grabbed Peter by the arm. "Oh, Peter!" she cried. -"Isn't it wonderful!" The three of them stood grinning foolishly at one -another like three mischievous children who have just invented an -especially wonderful game. - -Tom Agate was the first to break away. "Well, now," he said, picking up -the script, "might as well get to work. I'll want to read this before -morning. When does Stalkey expect us?" - -"Auditions are scheduled for ten o'clock at the Elgin Theater." - -Tom nodded with satisfaction. "Good. I'll be there." He looked at Peggy -anxiously. "You'll read the part with me, won't you? Just like tonight?" - -Peggy appealed to Peter. "What do you think?" she asked. - -"No problem there," he assured them. - -"Good." Tom flipped open the script and ran his thumb down the edges of -the paper. "Incidentally," he said, "who else is in it?" - -"Emily Burckhardt is playing the grandmother," Peter told him. - -Tom beamed with pleasure. "That's nice," he said. "I haven't seen Emily -for years. What about the daughter?" - -"Marcy Hubbard." - -Tom shook his head. "Don't know her." - -"She's a newcomer. I'm afraid we're going to lose her to Hollywood." - -"All the better," Tom cried gaily. "Then Peggy can play the part. How -about the mother? I see she's got a big part." - -"It _is_ a big part," Peter admitted. "We're centering the play around -her." - -Tom frowned. "Is that a good idea? Just from the little I've read, I -would have thought that the play belonged to the old woman." - -"Well, we've got a big name, you see," Peter explained. - -Tom nodded understandingly. "Who is it?" - -"Katherine Nelson." - -The transformation in Tom came without warning. All color left him and -his face suddenly became drawn and old. "Who did you say?" he whispered -in a small, shocked voice. - -"Katherine Nelson," Peter repeated. "Why?" - -It seemed an effort for Tom to breathe. The script fell from his hand as -he slowly rose to his feet. He shook his head like a drunken man. "No," -he murmured thickly. "I--I can't." - -Peggy stepped forward. "Can't what?" she asked in a concerned voice. -"Are you all right?" - -Tom waved her away. "I can't be in the play," he intoned dully. "I won't -be there tomorrow." - -Peggy looked at him incredulously. "But you promised!" she said -accusingly. - -"I don't care," Tom said. "Please--go away now." - -Peggy reached out and took him by the shoulder. "No," she said urgently. -"You can't do this. I don't know what's upset you, but you've just _got_ -to be there tomorrow morning. Try and face it, whatever it is." She gave -him a gentle shake. "For your sake as well as ours." - -The old man looked at her sadly. "My dear," he said wistfully, "you -don't know what you're asking." - -"I know I don't," Peggy said. "But we're depending on you." - -Tom Agate seemed to stand a little straighter even though the hurt look -still lingered in his eyes. He gazed at Peggy steadfastly and sighed. -"You remind me of someone," he said at last. "Someone--I knew a long -time ago. Will you be there tomorrow?" - -"Yes," Peggy said quietly. - -"Do you promise?" - -Peggy nodded. "I promise." - -Torn seemed satisfied. "All right then," he said. "I'll be there. But, -please, don't let me down." - -Peggy took her hand away. "I won't," she said gently. "You can trust -me." - - - - - XII - Tom's Tryout - - -The theater the next morning seemed full of old men, all of them there -to try out for the part of the grandfather. Peggy arrived shortly before -ten o'clock, and after scanning the rows of seats for Tom Agate, sank -down in an aisle seat toward the back. Promptly at ten, Craig Claiborne -began the auditions. The same bored assistant stage manager who had read -with Peggy two days earlier took his place behind the plain table on -stage and began to read with each candidate. Fortunately, it was the -same scene Peggy had read with Tom the night before. - -One after another, the old men trudged up to the stage and went through -the lines that had now become so familiar to Peggy. Some were better -than others, but all lacked the authority, the fire the part demanded. - -At ten-thirty, just as Peggy was beginning to grow anxious, a tall -figure dropped into the empty seat beside her. "Has he come yet?" It was -Peter Grey and he seemed equally worried. - -"No," Peggy whispered. "Will they wait for him?" - -Peter shook his head briefly. "I haven't even told Mr. Stalkey he's -coming. I was afraid he wouldn't show up." - -"How much longer do we have?" - -"If he's not here in the next half hour, we'll have to give it up." - -Peggy was suddenly struck by an idea. "Peter!" she said. "Did you give -his name to the doorman? They won't let him in if he's not on the list." - -Peter grinned down at her. "Don't worry," he said. "All taken care of." - -Peggy sat back and tried to concentrate on the auditions. When she saw -that the last of the actors was approaching the stage, she turned -uneasily in her seat to look toward the rear of the theater. That was -when she saw Tom standing quietly behind the curtains that separated the -inner lobby from the orchestra. Without taking her eyes off Tom, she -reached out and touched Peter on the sleeve of his jacket. - -"Look," she said in a triumphant whisper. "Look behind you, Peter. He's -come." - -Peter swiveled in his seat, saw Tom, and leaped to his feet. "You talk -to him," he ordered, "While I go tell Mr. Stalkey." - -Peggy slid out into the aisle and walked slowly back to Tom Agate. He -saw her coming and nodded a shy greeting. "Hello," he said quietly. - -Peggy held out her hand. "I'm glad you came." - -Tom nodded briefly. "I almost didn't make it," he said with a nervous -laugh. "If it hadn't been for that promise...." He trailed off and shook -his head. - -"Well, you're here now," Peggy said, slipping her arm through his. "Come -on and sit down. I think they're almost ready for us." She could feel -Tom shiver as they walked down the aisle. - -"How were the auditions?" he asked, almost hopefully, it seemed to -Peggy. "Did Oscar find anyone?" - -"Mr. Stalkey doesn't take me into his confidence," Peggy replied with a -smile, "but I don't think so." - -Tom didn't say a word, but hunched into a seat beside Peggy. In his lap -he held a copy of the script of _Innocent Laughter_. Down in front Peggy -saw Peter Grey leaning over Oscar Stalkey and Craig Claiborne. The three -of them seemed deep in conversation. Suddenly Oscar Stalkey gave a -little jerk of his head and came up the aisle with the quick steps Peggy -remembered so well from her interview in his office. Tom Agate -straightened in his seat, uncertain of what to do. - -Oscar Stalkey settled the problem by gripping the old man's hand warmly. -"Hello, Tom," he said, and Peggy heard genuine affection and respect in -his tone. "How have you been keeping yourself?" - -Tom struggled to his feet, a flush of pleasure creeping over his face. -"Fine, Oscar," he answered. "Just fine. Congratulations on a fine play." - -"Thanks," Oscar Stalkey said. "What about the part of the grandfather? -Think you'd like to play it?" - -"Don't know if I can, Oscar." - -The producer laughed. "That's not what I heard. Peter Grey said you were -great." - -"It's nice of him to say so," Tom murmured. - -"How about going over a scene or two for us now?" Oscar Stalkey took him -by the arm and led him toward the stage. "But first I'd like you to meet -Craig Claiborne, our director." - -Tom seemed reluctant to follow Oscar Stalkey. "There's one favor...." he -said tentatively. - -"Anything at all," the producer declared expansively. "You name it." - -"I'd like to read the scene with Miss Lane." - -Oscar Stalkey shot a quick glance at Peggy and turned back to Tom. "Sure -thing, Tom," he said, putting his hand on the old actor's shoulder. -"When do you want to start?" - -Tom smiled. "Might as well get it over with," he declared. "Peggy?" he -said questioningly. "Are you ready?" - -Peggy nodded and stood up. The three of them walked slowly down to the -edge of the stage where Oscar Stalkey made hurried introductions. A few -moments later, Peggy found herself back behind the door waiting for -Craig Claiborne's cue. Two days ago she had been so frightened that she -could hardly move. But now all that had vanished. It was a calm and -confident Peggy who pushed open the door when Craig Claiborne gave the -word. - -Peggy moved effortlessly through the lines, feeling every pause and -groping for exactly the right intonation on every phrase, every word. -The big theater was hushed as the white-haired veteran and the newcomer -built slowly but surely to the moving climax. But Peggy didn't notice -any of that. Except for the small circle of light that was the playing -area, the world ceased to exist, She didn't even stop to think that she -was playing a scene from Broadway's biggest hit play on the stage of one -of New York's most famous theaters. For the past few years she had -dreamed of doing this, but now that the day had arrived, she was so -caught up in the powerful emotions of acting that it never once occurred -to her that her dreams had suddenly turned into reality. - -The scene slowly drew to a close as Peggy knelt beside Tom. Just as on -the night before, she could feel his hand gently stroking her hair. The -two of them held their positions for maybe half a minute and then Peggy -scrambled to her feet, wondering how things had gone. The first hint -came when she glanced over at the wings to see three or four stagehands -grouped silently beyond the ropes that operated the front curtain. Mr. -Fox, the assistant stage manager, was still sitting behind his table, -looking like a man hypnotized. No one moved. - -Then from the seats out front Peggy heard someone blow his nose. The -next instant Mr. Stalkey came leaping up the steps, his eyes -suspiciously bright. - -"Tom," he said, coming directly to the point, "will you take the part?" - -Tom blinked and stood up. "Are you really sure?" he asked. "Sure you -want me?" - -Mr. Stalkey opened his eyes. "Want you!" he exclaimed. "Let me tell you -something. I must have seen this play a hundred times, but this morning -for the first time you've shown me how this scene should be played. -Let's go up to the office and talk business." He threw an arm around the -old man's shoulder and started to walk him off stage. - -Watching Tom Agate's face was an experience Peggy never forgot. When she -had first seen him the night before he was a lost soul without the will -or the ability to venture far from the airless confines of Syd Walsh's -shop. But now he looked alive and alert, like a man who had rediscovered -himself and was proud of it. - -Then, suddenly, Peggy saw his body tremble and sway. For a moment she -thought he had been taken ill and made a move forward to help him. It -was then that she saw what the trouble was. - -Standing in the doorway leading to the backstage area, her hands -clenched tightly together, was Katherine Nelson. - -Stamped across her face was a look of such unutterable shock, mingled -with pain and fear, that for a brief moment Peggy felt sorry for her. -Then slowly the color crept back into her cheeks and she took a step -forward. - -Oscar Stalkey, who seemed blissfully unaware of what was happening, -welcomed her eagerly. "You've just missed the greatest audition of all -time," he said jovially. "But don't worry, it's a performance you'll see -a lot of over the next few months. Katherine, I'd like you to meet Tom -Agate." - -Katherine Nelson ignored Tom completely. "What do you mean?" she said in -a voice that she was obviously controlling at great effort. "What kind -of audition?" - -"Why, Tom Agate has just read for the grandfather in _Innocent -Laughter_," explained Stalkey. "And, I might add, has got the part." -Katherine Nelson stepped back as though she had been struck in the face. -"By the way," he continued blandly, "do you two know each other?" - -"Know each other!" Katherine Nelson breathed. She turned on Stalkey in -sudden fury. "What are you trying to do to me?" she grated. "Ruin my -career? Make a laughingstock of me?" - -Oscar Stalkey looked bewildered. "Why, my dear," he temporized, "I don't -know what you're talking about. And I don't think you do either!" - -"A vaudeville song-and-dance man!" Katherine Nelson said and her voice -was heavy with scorn. "A broken-down old has-been who probably can't -even remember his lines! This is what you want to put into one of my -plays? Never!" She advanced toward Oscar Stalkey, her eyes flashing. -"Either he goes or I go! I will not play in the same company with that -man!" - -Oscar Stalkey held his ground firmly, but Tom Agate cringed away. "Look, -Oscar," he said dully, "she's probably right. Let's just forget about -the whole--" - -"Be quiet, both of you!" the producer thundered. Peggy noticed that his -face was as flushed as Katherine Nelson's. "Now you listen to me, -Katherine. I'm still the producer of _Innocent Laughter_ and _I_ make -the decisions about who goes into the cast and who doesn't. Tom Agate is -perfect for the part of the grandfather. Furthermore, he's got a name -that still has drawing power. Maybe it's not as big a name as yours, but -it'll do, and I'm willing to gamble on him. As for you, you've got a -contract. Now, if you want to break it, I'll give you permission to go -right ahead. You can come up to the office right now and we can tear it -up together. But if you do"--Oscar Stalkey lowered his voice in -warning--"you'll never be in another one of my shows. You know perfectly -well what _Innocent Laughter_ can do for you. You'll have a success -again--for the first time in quite a while. And believe me, Katherine, -you _need_ a success." - -For a long moment Katherine Nelson was speechless. Finally, in a voice -that was noticeably shaking, she asked, "Is that your final word?" - -"It is," Stalkey replied firmly. - -The actress swayed, caught herself, then turned to Tom Agate. "All -right," she said in a low voice, keeping her eyes on Tom. "I'll agree to -what you want. But only on one condition." - -"What's that?" - -Katherine Nelson spoke slowly but with withering effect. "That I have -nothing to do with Tom Agate--except during rehearsals and performance. -That I won't speak to him--look at him--or touch him. Is that -understood?" - -Oscar Stalkey frowned, started to say something, then changed his mind. -"Suit yourself," he said at last. "Of course, I don't know how Tom -feels--" - -Tom, who had lowered his eyes under Katherine Nelson's scathing attack, -straightened visibly. His face was grave and serious, but he was no -longer cowering. He seemed to have come to some sort of inner decision. -He returned Katherine Nelson's contemptuous stare squarely. - -"Very well, Katherine," he said firmly. "You can live like that if you -like. I won't stop you. But listen to me. Whatever you do, don't cut -yourself off. I've been through it. I know what it's like." He lowered -his voice to a gentle whisper. "Besides, it doesn't help." - -Katherine Nelson turned without a word and walked slowly away. Her face -was a wooden mask that hid--what? Peggy wondered. - - - - - XIII - The Ordeal - - -Katherine Nelson was as good as her word. In the hectic days that -followed, she never spoke to Tom Agate unless it was absolutely -necessary. Her manner was cold, aloof, and imperious. She listened to -Craig Claiborne whenever he directed her, but seldom followed his -advice. With the older members of the cast she was icily polite, a pose -that was frequently shattered by violent outbursts of temper. As for -Peggy, Katherine Nelson studiously ignored her. Peter Grey explained it -by saying that the actress had discovered it was Peggy who was largely -responsible for Tom's presence in the cast. - -Actually, Peggy didn't see much of Peter. Both he and Pam were too busy -with the thousands of chores that go with sending a theatrical company -on the road. The only other person in the company, aside from Pam, who -was close to Peggy's age was Marcy Hubbard, the girl playing the part of -the young daughter. Marcy was a breath-takingly beautiful girl with a -clever sense of timing and a pleasant, friendly, off stage manner, but -Peggy never got to know her well. Marcy, very much in love and recently -engaged, spent every available spare moment with her fiance, a quiet -young man who picked her up at the theater immediately after rehearsals. - -This left only Amy, May Berriman, and Randy Brewster to talk to. Not -that they weren't eager listeners. But because they never had a chance -to see any of the rehearsals, Peggy was forced to go into great detail -in order to answer their many questions. - -"You mean to say that she _never_ speaks to him?" Amy asked one evening, -during the second week of rehearsals. They were sitting in May -Berriman's private sitting room on the ground floor of the Gramercy -Arms. Amy, Peggy, and Randy had all been to dinner together, and when -they came back May had seen them and invited them in for coffee. - -"She hardly ever speaks to anyone," Peggy said. "I've never seen -anything like it." - -"Goodness," Amy said wonderingly. "That must put a strain on things." - -"You don't know," Peggy answered. "It's as if we were rehearsing a play -about the end of the world or something--not a romantic comedy that -should be full of laughs." - -"How do you get along with her?" - -"Me? Like everybody else. I've got one tiny scene in the first act. I -come in with Marcy, who's supposed to introduce me to her mother--that's -Katherine Nelson. We say a few words to each other and then I go out -again." - -"How does that go?" Randy asked, balancing his cup and saucer in one -hand. "If I remember rightly you have one or two nice lines." - -"I did have, you mean," Peggy said moodily. "Katherine Nelson insisted -on cutting them." - -May Berriman arched her eyebrows. "How did she manage that?" - -"She said I wasn't doing them right." - -"Were you?" - -Peggy looked at them helplessly. "No," she said, "I guess I wasn't. But -I don't think anybody could," she added stoutly. "You see, when I come -on to meet the mother, Katherine Nelson doesn't even look at me." - -"Where _does_ she look?" Amy demanded. - -Peggy touched her right ear. "She keeps staring at a spot just about -here. Her face never changes expression, and her eyes look positively -glassy. Now, how can you react to someone like that?" - -"It sounds as though she were some sort of mechanical doll," Randy said. - -"That's exactly it!" Peggy cried. "We're all mechanical people. We go -through the right motions and say the right words, but it's all so -stiff--without any life or warmth." - -"Even Tom Agate?" May asked. - -Peggy's face softened. "No," she said quietly. "He's wonderful. I don't -know how he does it. He's the only one with any spark to his -performance. It's a joy to see him come out on stage." She shook her -head wonderingly. "I think that man could act with a stone statue." - - -In Oscar Stalkey's office, two men were pacing back and forth -restlessly. One of them was Stalkey himself, but then he always paced. -The other was Craig Claiborne, who was usually relaxed and easygoing. -The director threw out an impatient hand. "It just won't work, Oscar!" -he said. "I've tried everything, but that woman stiffens them all up -like blocks of ice. She won't do a thing I tell her, and as a result, -this so-called comedy we're about to take out on the road sounds like a -dramatized version of an obituary column." - -"Now, now," Oscar Stalkey soothed. "It can't be as bad as all that." But -his face looked drawn, worried. - -"Come on, Oscar," Claiborne said. "You know it is." - -Oscar Stalkey sighed heavily. "Maybe it'll get better," he said -hopefully. "You know, with opening night and all, there's bound to be -some excitement." - -The director shook his head with stark finality. "Opening night is just -around the corner," he said, "and they're getting worse. Every last one -of them. Except," he added hastily, "Tom Agate. What a remarkable old -man!" - - -"Three weeks in Baltimore!" Peter looked up from the pile of papers on -his desk and laughed bitterly. "We'll be lucky to last three nights!" - -At the other end of the office Pam Mundy's fingers kept up a steady -tattoo over the keys of her typewriter. She didn't bother to answer. She -knew he was right. - - -Oscar Stalkey didn't quite know how to begin. He prowled uncertainly -along the bookcases lining one side of his office, trying to keep his -temper in check and his voice low. Sitting in the most comfortable chair -in the room, Katherine Nelson watched him steadily and waited for him to -speak. - -At last he asked the question that had been preying on his mind for the -past two weeks. "Why?" he said simply. "Why are you doing this?" - -"Doing what?" Katherine Nelson inquired innocently. - -Stalkey gave an exasperated shake of his head. "You know perfectly well. -The play's going to pieces." - -She crossed her legs and returned his pleading stare with a bland smile. -"Are you suggesting it's my fault?" she asked. - -"Of course I am!" the producer exploded. "Whose fault d'you think it -is?" - -"Now that's very interesting," the actress said coolly. "Supposing we go -over my so-called shortcomings. First of all, have I ever missed a -rehearsal--or even been late for one?" - -"No," Stalkey admitted uncomfortably. "But--" - -"Let me finish," Katherine Nelson insisted. "There's been no trouble -with my lines. I know them perfectly. Now, I admit I've had some -disagreements with Craig Claiborne. He's wanted me to do some things I -don't like." - -"And so you didn't," Stalkey concluded gloomily. - -"No, I didn't," Katherine Nelson said cheerfully. "But why should I -follow his orders like a robot? After all, I've had thirty years of -experience in the theater. I'm an established star. Surely I've got some -right to express myself in my own way. Be reasonable, Oscar." - -"Well, what about the other people in the cast? You treat them like -dirt." - -Katherine Nelson looked shocked. "I do not," she declared. "I haven't -said a word to them." - -"That's the whole trouble. You completely ignore them." - -The actress looked pained. She leaned forward in her chair and spoke -intensely. "I'm a professional, Oscar. The theater is my business. I -don't go to rehearsals to socialize or have a good time. I'm there to -work. And I expect others to do the same." - -Oscar Stalkey threw up his hands. "Have it your own way, Katherine, but -something's all wrong. I know it and so do you. You're not the only -professional in the cast. Emily Burckhardt's been in the theater as long -as you have and she's upset." - -"Poor Emily," Katherine Nelson said sweetly. "Her trouble is that she's -got to play so many scenes with that horrible man." - -Stalkey glanced at her shrewdly. "Tom Agate?" - -Katherine Nelson didn't answer. She smiled instead. - - -"... Oh, it all _sounds_ reasonable enough," Stalkey said later that -day. He and Craig Claiborne were having a conference after rehearsal. -"She claims she has her own way of working, and that she's building up -to a performance. She's terribly, terribly sorry that the others are -having such a hard time, but it's not her fault." The producer's voice -was heavy with sarcasm. - -Craig Claiborne was more direct. He only said one word. - -"Nuts." - - -"I've seen it happen before," May said thoughtfully. They were entering -the third week of rehearsals, and Peggy had made it a habit to report to -May every night. The older woman's advice was usually sympathetic and -helpful. "I can see her little game just as clearly as if it were -written on the wall." - -"But what is it?" Peggy asked. "I've never known anything like this -before. Honestly, it's gotten so I _hate_ to go to rehearsals in the -morning. The atmosphere in that theater is simply loaded with -bitterness. Everybody's on edge." - -"Except Katherine Nelson. I bet she's all sweetness and light." - -Peggy looked at her in astonishment. "How did you know that?" - -May smiled. "I told you. I know what she's up to. Look, Peggy, she wants -to get rid of Tom Agate, and she doesn't care whom she hurts in the -process. She's deliberately throwing everybody off balance by giving a -technically perfect but cold performance. You just wait until opening -night, though. Because of the way she's been acting, everyone in the -cast will have a terrible case of first-night jitters. But not our girl. -Not Katherine Nelson. That night, she'll open up and play the part with -everything she's got. The result?" May smiled bitterly. "She'll be the -heroine of the hour. Then she can go up to Oscar Stalkey and say, 'See, -I told you so. I was fine. It's the others that are bad.' And he'll have -to listen to her because she'll be speaking from a position of -strength." - -"But what good will that do?" Peggy asked. - -"She'll put on pressure to fire Tom Agate. And Oscar Stalkey will have -to do it, too. Reluctantly, he'll ask for Tom's resignation." - -"But Tom's so good," Peggy protested. "He's the only one in the cast who -isn't being affected by her." - -May shook her doubtfully. "He's only human," she said. "I'm afraid the -strain is going to show." - - -May was right. Tom began to fall to pieces during the next rehearsal. -Where he had once been alive and vital, he now read his lines unevenly, -in a lackluster mumble. In the second act, he completely forgot one of -his lines, and in the third act he forgot to come in on his entrance. -That was when Craig Claiborne lost his temper and bawled him out in -front of the other members of the cast. During the tirade, Peggy stole a -glance at Katherine Nelson. The actress was standing perfectly still, an -unholy gleam in her eyes. - - - - - XIV - The Secret - - -Craig Claiborne was slumped deep in the easy chair in Oscar Stalkey's -office. A look of troubled guilt was stamped across his face. "I -apologized later," he was saying to the producer, who for once was not -pacing. He was sitting across from his director, chewing nervously on -the stump of a cold cigar, looking haggard and careworn. - -"What did he say?" Stalkey asked. - -"He mumbled something about its all being his fault and shuffled out." - -"Where did he go?" - -"How the devil should I know? I'm not his nurse." Claiborne passed a -weary hand over his forehead. "I'm sorry, Oscar. I didn't mean to snap -at you. But this thing's got us all to the breaking point." He paused -and looked at the producer steadily. "Have you thought of asking for -Katherine Nelson's resignation?" - -Stalkey removed the cigar from his mouth. "On what grounds?" he shot -back. "Yes, I've hinted at it," he added morosely. "But she laughed at -me. She said she'd never resign." - -"Did you threaten to fire her?" - -"I didn't have to. She told me that if I tried to get rid of her she'd -raise such a fuss the show would never open." - -"But that's all bluff." - -Stalkey sighed. "Maybe. But she threatened to sue me and drag the whole -thing into court." - -"But--I don't understand her attitude." - -"Neither do I!" Stalkey said. "I don't know what she hopes to -accomplish. It won't do her any good to have the play flop." The -producer changed the subject abruptly. "What about Tom? Do you think -he'll be back?" - -Claiborne shook his head. "We'll see." - - -It was nearly a quarter of three and Tom Agate still hadn't appeared. -Their nerves frayed and their tempers short, the rest of the cast went -through some scenes where Tom wasn't needed. Finally, just a few minutes -before the hour, the back doors of the theater opened and Tom came -striding purposefully down the aisle. On stage, the cast members greeted -his arrival with smiles of relief. All except Katherine Nelson. She drew -in her breath sharply, marched over to a chair, and sat down -forbiddingly. - -"Sorry I'm late," Tom apologized. "But the train broke down." - -"That's no excuse," came a cold, hard voice. "You've kept us waiting for -nearly an hour. If you don't have more of a sense of responsibility than -that, you should get out!" - -In the silence that followed, Tom went up to Katherine Nelson and looked -down at her. An expression of sorrow, mingled with pity, crossed his -face. "It won't work, Katherine," he said softly. "I'm in this to the -finish." He turned away abruptly and signaled Craig Claiborne. "I'm -ready whenever you are." - -"All right," Craig announced. "We'll do the scene between the -grandfather and the daughter. Marcy! Let's go!" - -Peggy, who had come to look upon this scene almost as her private -property, stood in the wings and watched it unfold. She had seen it so -many times before, knew every line of dialogue and every movement, but -she still loved it. - -As soon as Tom came on stage, it was evident that he had regained the -confidence that he had lost yesterday. His rich, deep voice colored the -empty theater, making it glow with warmth and life. Peggy smiled to -herself and settled down to watch. It soon became clear that this was -the finest performance Tom had given yet. It was almost as if he wanted -to make up for the day before. Everyone in the theater stood engrossed -as the two actors went through their scene. - -Halfway through the scene, Peggy suddenly realized she wasn't alone. -Standing a few feet away from her, half hidden by the backstage gloom, -was Katherine Nelson. Her eyes never left Tom Agate, and as Peggy -watched, the older actress's face softened in an infinitely sad and -tender half-smile. Peggy had never seen her look like that before. She -was almost in tears. Then, abruptly, Katherine Nelson turned and moved -quickly out of sight to her dressing room. Peggy thought she heard a -stifled sob. - -The young girl stared after her with a puzzled frown. "Now what," she -murmured to herself, "do you suppose that means?" - - -"I went to see Tommy today," Tom was saying to Peggy later that -afternoon. They were standing in the little alley behind the theater, -taking a quick breath of fresh air before going back to rehearsal. - -"Tommy?" Peggy asked, trying to place the name. - -"You remember," Tom said. "Tommy Stanton. Out on Tidewater Road. You -were the one who told me that he wanted to see me again." - -Peggy brightened. "Oh, Tommy! Of course. Was he glad you came?" - -Tom Agate smiled, obviously pleased by what had happened. "Yes, I think -he was. He played me some of our old songs on the banjo, and I gave him -another lesson." - -"He must have been surprised." - -"That's a funny thing. He wasn't. He was certain I'd be out soon, -because you had promised it. He said he never gave up knowing that I'd -be back." Tom shook his head in wonder. "That little boy taught me an -important lesson. You know, I was ready to give up yesterday. I wanted -to quit the company." When Peggy didn't say anything, Tom went on. "Yes, -I thought there wasn't any use in going on. What was the point? But -Tommy gave me back the faith I'd lost. I don't know where he gets so -much courage. He doesn't have a very happy life." - -"I didn't know that," Peggy said. "What's wrong?" - -"He's alone so much of the time," Tom explained. "The family's terribly -poor, and both his mother and father go out to work all day. They don't -want him out on the street and there isn't much to do alone in the -house. That's why he loves the banjo so much. It gives him an interest." -Tom laughed. "You know, he wanted to come away with me. He said he was -going to visit me sometime and see all the kings and queens. He was -especially eager to meet the one-eyed giant." - -"I'm sure he was." Peggy laughed. "What did you say?" - -"I told him it was a long way off and not to try. But he said he didn't -care. He knew where it was." - -"I wonder what he meant by that?" - -"I don't know. When we said good-by, he told me not to be lonely. -Imagine! Him telling that to me. He said he'd see me soon--after he -learned the new song I'd taught him." - -The two of them stood quietly in the dingy alleyway, wrapped in their -private thoughts. Peggy drew her coat up around her neck. Fall had -turned to winter, and there was just a hint of snow in the air. - - -Emily Burckhardt resigned the next afternoon. Surprisingly, Oscar -Stalkey accepted her decision without protest. "I can't blame you, -Emily," he told her. - -"That woman is just impossible," Emily said. She stated it as a fact, -simply and without rancor. "If you don't get her out of the play, you -might as well not bother sending it out on tour." - -Oscar Stalkey nodded. "I know. But I'm going to give her another two -days. Things might work themselves out by that time." - -Emily Burckhardt looked doubtful but kept silent. "Have you any thoughts -about my replacement?" she asked. - -"Yes, I am considering Enid Partridge. She's free and I think she'd do a -nice job." - -Emily nodded in agreement. "Good choice." She extended her hand. "Again, -let me tell you how sorry I am about leaving, but you know how it is." - -"Just a minute, Emily. Do you like the part of the grandmother? I mean -if it wasn't for the other thing...." - -"I love it," Emily said with a shrug. "I would have enjoyed playing it." - -Stalkey smiled. "Well then, it's not all bad news, anyway." - -"I don't know what you mean." - -"The present company--the one that's in New York now--has been booked to -open in London. Paula Howard doesn't want to leave the country. She's -doing a fine job as the grandmother here, but doesn't think she's up to -making the trip. She wants to resign the part." - -Emily brightened considerably. "And you want me to take her place?" she -asked. - -Stalkey nodded. "What about it?" - -Emily nodded her head emphatically. "When do we leave?" - -"Not for another six months. Although Paula wants out right away. Do you -think you could take over in two weeks, say?" - -"I could take over right now," Emily declared. - -Oscar Stalkey sighed. "Good. At least that's one thing off my mind." - -"Tell me something, Oscar," Emily asked curiously. "The New York company -is scheduled to go to London in six months. How are you planning to -replace them here?" - -"I had thought of bringing in the Chicago road company. But now"--Oscar -Stalkey shook his head darkly--"I don't know. We'll cross that bridge -later." - -"There's one more thing you ought to know," Emily said. "Marcy Hubbard -is thinking of quitting." - -Oscar Stalkey drew a deep breath. "Did she tell you that?" - -Emily nodded. "She thinks it would be bad for her career to open in a -play that's as bad as this." - -"Oh, she does, does she?" the producer said grimly. - -"Don't blame her, Oscar," Emily urged. "Besides, she's had a very -attractive offer from Hollywood." - -Oscar Stalkey sighed. "Let her go, if she wants to. That's one problem -I'm not worried about. I know who'll take her part." - -"Who?" - -"Peggy Lane." - - -Stalkey made the announcement of Emily Burckhardt's resignation late -that afternoon. The cast was shocked by the news and sat in numbed -surprise. After that, Craig Claiborne excused them and posted a notice -for ten o'clock the following morning. Slowly, everyone left the -theater, struggling into heavy coats as they prepared to face a swirling -snowstorm that had struck New York about noon that day. - -Peggy didn't leave the theater at once. She hunched in one of the seats -of the auditorium, thinking about the past three and a half weeks. It -seemed impossible that they would be opening in ten days. Half her life -she had been looking forward to the day when she would be rehearsing a -play with a professional company. She had imagined the fun of working -together, the excitement of the big night approaching. But instead of -what her imagination had led her to expect, she was left with an empty -feeling of hopeless frustration. She realized with sudden clarity that -she didn't care _when_ the play opened. It all seemed so pointless. - -She sighed, struggled wearily to her feet, and walked aimlessly down the -aisle and on up to the stage. There was no sense in staying here. She'd -go home and talk to May. She turned the corner to go backstage, then -stopped abruptly. - -There was a light on in Katherine Nelson's dressing room. The door was -ajar, and from where Peggy stood she could see the star sitting in front -of her make-up table, her head buried in her hands. As Peggy watched, -Katherine Nelson drew her hands from her face and stared at her -reflection in the mirror. Peggy saw that she had been crying. - -It was an embarrassing moment. Peggy didn't know whether to make her -presence known or remain hidden in the shadows of the darkened stage. As -she hesitated in momentary indecision, the heavy iron stage door leading -to the street banged open, and for a second or two winter roared into -the theater. The door clanged shut and footsteps shuffled up the -passageway. In her dressing room, Katherine Nelson jumped to her feet -and came out into the backstage area. "Who's there?" she cried sharply. - -"It's all right, miss," came a voice. - -The next instant Peggy saw a large, craggy policeman step into the -circle of light. With one hand he brushed away the snow clinging to his -uniform. His other hand clutched a small boy, who seemed to be staring -around in expectant wonder. Peggy recognized the little boy at once. It -was Tommy Stanton. - -"Excuse me, ma'am," the policeman said, touching his hat. "But where -would I find a Mr. Armour?" - -[Illustration: _With one hand, the policeman clutched a small boy._] - -"Mr. Armour?" Katherine Nelson answered vacantly. "Nobody by that name -here." - -The policeman bent down and addressed his charge. "You see, son?" he -asked kindly. "You must have made a mistake." - -"No, sir," the boy said in a clear, emphatic voice, "I know him." He -looked at Katherine Nelson curiously. "Are you one of the queens?" he -asked. - -Katherine Nelson frowned. "Queens? What's this all about?" - -The policeman shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Well, it's this way, -ma'am. I found this little fellow wandering around Times Square all -alone. He told me he lives all the way out on Long Island, and I can't -imagine how he got here by himself. Anyway, he did, and I was going to -take him over to the stationhouse, but he won't tell me his name until -he sees this friend of his." The policeman fished in his pocket and came -up with a ragged newspaper clipping. "Do you know who this is?" He -showed her the scrap of paper. "The boy seems to know him as Mr. Armour, -even though the name under the picture is Tom Agate." - -Peggy saw Katherine Nelson start. She looked down at Tommy Stanton and -then back at the photograph. "What made you come here?" she asked the -officer. - -"The piece in the paper here," he said, pointing it out with a stubby -finger. "It said that Mr. Agate--or Mr. Armour or whatever his name -is--is rehearsing at the Elgin Theater. The boy is full of some kind of -story about a secret place with one-eyed giants. I couldn't make any -sense out of that, so I decided to give the theater a try since it -wasn't much out of our way." - -Katherine Nelson took the newspaper clipping from the policeman and -leaned down beside Tommy. "Will you tell me your name?" she asked. - -"Tommy," came the prompt reply. - -"Well, Tommy, you see this picture here?" She showed him the picture. -"Where did you get it?" - -"I tore it out of the paper. Can I see him, please?" - -"What do you want to see him about?" - -"I learned the piece he taught me the other day," Tommy said simply. -Then, for the first time, Peggy realized he was carrying the banjo that -Tom had given him. The little boy held it out proudly. "Would you like -me to play it for you?" - -When Katherine Nelson saw the instrument, she gasped and stepped back a -pace. The policeman threw out a hand to support her. "Are you all right, -ma'am?" he asked anxiously. - -"Yes," the actress assured him. "I'm all right." She returned to Tommy. -"Do you like Mr. Armour?" she asked. - -The look on the boy's face was all the answer she needed. - -"He's--" Tommy struggled to express himself. "He's my very best friend -in the world." Unexpectedly, his face began to cloud. "Couldn't I please -see him now?" he begged. "Please?" - -"He's had a hard day, ma'am," the policeman murmured. "I expect he's -pretty cold and hungry. If this Mr. Armour isn't here, I think I'd -better get the boy to the station house and start checking with Missing -Persons." - -"No, don't!" Katherine Nelson cried sharply. "I know where he is. I'll -take the boy to him." - -"I'm afraid I can't just leave him with you, ma'am," the policeman -explained apologetically. "I don't even know who you are." - -The actress stepped closer to the policeman. "Don't you recognize me?" -she said. "I'm Katherine Nelson." - -The policeman's eyes widened. "Oh, beggin' your pardon, ma'am." - -Katherine Nelson reached out gently for Tommy's hand. "He's come to the -right place," she said, a soft smile stealing over her face. "I'll take -him to Mr. Armour, and I'll assume responsibility." - -The policeman seemed relieved. "Then you know Mr. Armour?" - -"Oh, yes--" Katherine Nelson paused, and then said, in a voice that was -barely audible to Peggy, "You see, Mr.--Armour is--is my husband." - - - - - XV - "Curtain Going Up!" - - -"... It isn't a very pretty story," Katherine Nelson was saying. It was -a little after ten the following morning. Members of the cast, Oscar -Stalkey, Craig Claiborne, Peter Grey, and Pam Mundy were all sitting on -stage. They had reported, expecting a rehearsal, but had been met -instead by the producer who told them that Katherine Nelson had an -announcement to make. Peggy, who had slipped out of the theater the -night before without being seen, was curled up in a chair on the side of -the stage, waiting breathlessly for what she knew was coming. - -"You see," Katherine Nelson went on with a curious half-smile, "Tom -Agate and I were married." She waited patiently for the buzz of -excitement to die down. "As a matter of fact," she added, "we still are. -But we've been separated for many years now. And I'm afraid it's been my -fault." - -"Now wait a minute," Tom interrupted, reaching out for her hand. He was -sitting beside her, looking younger and fresher than Peggy had ever seen -him. "It's no good your taking all the blame." He turned to his fellow -cast members and began speaking in a low tone. - -"When Katherine and I were married," he said, "we were very -young--Katherine was only sixteen--very much in love and very happy. The -whole world seemed to be made especially for us. I was doing well as a -star in vaudeville and the future looked good. - -"Eventually," he went on, "we had a little girl. She went wherever we -did. You've all read stories about how, in the days of vaudeville, -people used to play one-night stands across the country. Well, it's -perfectly true. That's exactly what we did. And we took our little -girl--Kathy, we called her--everywhere we went." - -He paused, cleared his throat and went on: - -"I guess Kathy wasn't too strong, and that kind of life was bad for her. -In any event, she died when she was two years old." He said this last -quickly, as if he didn't want to dwell on it. "We were both pretty -upset," he said, staring fixedly at the row of darkened footlights in -front of him, "and I suppose we both lost our heads." - -"That's not quite true." Katherine Nelson took up the story. "What -really happened was that I blamed Tom for Kathy's death. Oh, I know it -was foolish of me. But I felt there _had_ to be some reason for her -going like that. I couldn't bear to think that it just happened. And so -I talked myself into believing that it was all Tom's fault." The actress -took a deep breath. "We parted. Tom kept on in vaudeville and I--well, I -went home to my father. But when he died, the theater was the only thing -I knew, so I started to act. It had been ten years. I hadn't kept in -touch with anyone. No one remembered me. Vaudeville was dying, so I -tried serious acting. You know the rest." - -"I went ahead doing the same things I'd always done," Tom explained. "I -kept thinking Katherine would come back to me and I wanted to be in a -position to take care of her. Vaudeville was on the way out, so I tried -the movies and radio. As long as I had the hope that Katherine might -need me, I kept working. - -"Then fifteen years after she left me, she suddenly was a star herself. -I left the theater then--but not for long. The servicemen needed me -during World War II. After the war, nobody needed me--until Peggy said -she did. And I saw that Katherine did too." - -Katherine Nelson shook her head. "I'd lost track of Tom completely. I -never expected to see him again. Then, when he showed up in this cast, -all the old memories--the old hatred and pain--came back. At first, I -couldn't face even seeing him. I still blamed him, you see, and I -refused to forget." - -She straightened her shoulders and looked for a long minute at all of -them. "I'm afraid I was pretty unpleasant. I thought to myself, I must -get rid of that man! And so I tried every way I knew how to force Oscar -Stalkey to fire him. When that didn't work, I tried to shame Tom into -going away of his own accord." She turned to him with a questioning -glance. "I still don't know how you found the courage to stick it out. I -was so cruel." - -Tom smiled gently. "I knew you were miserable," he told her. "Wrapped up -in the same kind of misery that I had created for myself. I wanted to -show you a way out. I thought that if I stayed you'd see that all this -unhappiness was of your own making." - -"And I _did_ see it," Katherine Nelson said. "I saw it a hundred times -every day, but each time I shut my eyes deliberately. It wasn't until I -met a little boy who had come to see Tom--a little boy who told me what -Tom meant to him--that I finally realized what I had done to myself--and -all of you. I want to say to every one of you, I'm sorry. And if it's -not too late, I'd like to start rehearsals today, really working -together." - -There was a silence. Finally, Oscar Stalkey stood up. "Last night," he -said, "Tom Agate and Katherine Nelson came to see me. We had quite a -talk. Among other things, we discussed what's wrong with the way we're -doing _Innocent Laughter_. The main point we agreed upon is this. We've -been putting too much emphasis on the part of the mother. Actually, the -center of action lies with the older woman, the grandmother." He paused -and clasped his hands behind his back. "I asked Katherine if she would -play that part and her answer was yes. That means we'll have to get a -replacement for the mother, but that shouldn't be too difficult. - -"Meanwhile, there's another thing. Marcy Hubbard has left the cast." He -grinned at them cheerfully. "All in all, I think you'll admit it was -quite a night. She asked to be relieved of her contract because she said -she had a very attractive offer from Hollywood. I was more than happy to -do what she asked because filling in for Marcy was no trouble at all." -He turned to Peggy with a smile. "Peggy," he announced, "you'll be -playing the part of the young daughter in _Innocent Laughter_." - - -There were telegrams from her family, from May and Amy and Randy. There -were flowers from Oscar Stalkey and Peter, and a large bottle of perfume -from Craig Claiborne. And then, there was the audience. Standing in the -wings amid the bustling confusion of stagehands and electricians, Peggy -could hear them file into the theater. Muffled sounds of conversation -and an occasional laugh filtered through the heavy curtain. - -"Five minutes," came Mr. Fox's insistent voice. "Curtain in five -minutes." He hurried away on some mysterious errand. - -Peggy leaned her head against the backstage wall. She was tired but -exhilarated. The past ten days had been the most wonderful of her life. -Even the confusion and the discomfort of the trip to Baltimore had been -fun. This was the theater as she had always dreamed it, and she was -about to step on stage in the most important role of her life. - -"Places everyone, please. Clear the stage." Mr. Fox's voice was quiet, -but it carried a ring of authority. "Places for the first act." He -paused briefly beside Peggy. "You okay?" he asked. "Everything all -right?" Peggy nodded. "Good." Mr. Fox grunted. "I hope you break a leg," -he said and disappeared. - -Peggy smiled to herself. She hadn't heard that for quite a while. In the -theater it was considered a bad omen to wish an actor good luck, and so, -instead, you told him you hoped something awful would happen to him. Out -in front there was an excited buzz as the house lights flickered their -warning. - -Then, suddenly, out of the darkness beside her, a voice spoke softly. -"Hello, Peggy." It was Katherine Nelson. - -Peggy turned and smiled. "Hello, Miss Nelson." She saw Tom standing -beside his wife. - -"We don't have much time," the actress said to Peggy. "But before we go -on, I want to tell you how much we appreciate everything you did. Tom -and I know that you were the one who really brought us back together." - -"I'm sure you didn't know what you were doing," Tom said. "But that's -the way it turned out." - -"I'm glad," Peggy said simply. "I'm glad for you both." - -"There's another thing I have to thank you for," Katherine Nelson said. -"Somehow tonight--with Tom--I feel that I'm about to start my career all -over again." She paused and shook her head. "No, that's not quite it. -It's that I'm about to begin a new phase--a new life for myself...." - -"And for me," Tom said softly. - -Before Peggy could answer, Mr. Fox was back. "Curtain going up," he -whispered urgently. "Quiet, _please_!" - -Katherine Nelson detached herself from the shadows, straightened her -skirt, and stepped up for her entrance. She turned and looked at Peggy -and Tom, gave them a quick wink, and pushed open the door. The applause -in the theater thundered out when the audience recognized her. - -Peggy hardly remembered the first act. Her lines came automatically and -she was too excited to know whether it was going well or badly. By the -second act, that feeling had passed and she was beginning to wonder. Her -big scene--the one with Tom--was coming up, and as she took her position -behind the familiar door, she had the same sensation of nervous fear she -had had the day she first tried out for Craig Claiborne. - -The lights dimmed and Peggy knew it was time. With a trembling hand she -pushed open the door and looked out over the semi-darkened stage. A lone -figure was slumped in the chair by the fireplace. Peggy tip-toed into -the room, went over to the window, looked out and sighed. - -"'Why did you come in so quietly?'" Tom said. "'You're as furtive as a -lady burglar tonight. What's wrong?'" - -"'Oh!'" Peggy gasped. "'I didn't know anybody was here.'" - -"'I'll go if you like,'" came Tom's reply. - -Peggy moved over to him. "'Oh, no! Please don't! There's--there's -something I want to talk to you about....'" - -Suddenly all the nervousness, the worry, vanished. It was all right. -Peggy could feel it and, even more important, she knew the audience -could feel it too. - -Completely poised, she sat down on the little footstool beside Tom and -stared into his face. He was smiling at her. It was a good -smile--strong, yet gentle. - -Peggy met his gaze and smiled back. This was the moment she had always -known would come. She was glad it had come with Tom Agate. - - [Illustration: Endpapers] - - - [Illustration: Back cover] - - - - - PEGGY ON THE ROAD - - -Professional temperament and backstage jealousy confront young Peggy -Lane when she lands a bit part in the road company of the hit comedy, -_Innocent Laughter_. Elated over winning the role, the aspiring actress -quickly learns that a good play does not necessarily spell success. It -takes good people too! - -She aids in the search for a character actor to play the male lead, -feeling triumphant when she locates Tom Agate, beloved but retired -vaudeville trouper, who reluctantly consents to audition. But Katherine -Nelson, the _prima donna_ who is to star in the show, throws a temper -tantrum, claiming it beneath her dignity to play with a "has-been" -comedian, and demanding both Peggy and Tom Agate be thrown out of the -show! - -The young girl, who all her life has dreamed of her professional debut, -is demoralized as she realizes that theatrical rivalry can stifle the -joy of creativity. - -But she believes in Tom Agate, and her faith is vindicated when she -unravels a theatrical mystery which explains the conduct of the arrogant -star! - - - _Peggy Lane Theater Stories_ - - Peggy Finds the Theater - Peggy Plays Off-Broadway - Peggy Goes Straw Hat - Peggy on the Road - - - - - Transcriber's Notes - - ---Copyright notice provided as in the original--this e-text is public - domain in the country of publication. - ---In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the - HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.) - ---Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and - dialect unchanged. - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Peggy on the Road, by Virginia Hughes - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEGGY ON THE ROAD *** - -***** This file should be named 55830.txt or 55830.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/8/3/55830/ - -Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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