The San Francisco call., 1904-03-13
CHAPTER V.
I know it!
TRIAL FLIGHTS

The music Of the moon
Sleeps in the plain eggs Of the nightin
gale -Tennyson.
A. week had not passed since the
night at the opera when Mariposa re-
ceived a hasty letter from Mrs. Willers.
II was only a few lines scrawled on a
piece Of the yellow paper affected by
the STAFF of The Trumpet, and advising
the recipient of the fact that Mr..
Shackleton requested her presence at
his office al three the following after
noon, yet suggestion of triumph
breathed from it's every word. Mrs
Willers was clearly elated at the mo-
ment of it's production. She hinted in a
closing sentence. that Mariposa's star
was rising rapidly. She, herself would
conduct the girl TO the presence of the
great man. and suggested that Mari
posa meet her in her rooms a half
hour before the time set for the inter-
view.
Mariposa was glad to do this, and in
the few moments walk across town
toward Third street. to hear what Mrs.
Willers thought was the object of the
Interview The girls cheeks were dyed
with excited color as they drew near
;. d
certain It was TO do with her singing
ShackIeton had almost told her as
much. He had been immensely i'm
pressed by her voice, and now with
the Lepine Opera Company in the city,
Mrs. WilleIs fancied he was going to
have Leoine. who was a well-known
impresario in a small but respecta ble
way. pass judgment on it. Mariposa's
foot Jagged when she heard this. 1t
was such a portentous step from the
seclusion of 2 rose -draped cottage in
Santa Barbara, even to this talk of
singing before a real inipresario. She
looked down the vista of f~Third street
where the facade Of The Trumpet office
loomed large from humber neighbors,
and Mrs Willers saw hesitation and
fright in her eyes. Like a sensible
guardian she slipped her hand through
the young girls arm and walked brisk
ly forward. talking of the rare chances
life offers to a handicapped humanity
The Trumpet office. as all old San
Franciscans know, stood on Third
street. and was, in its day, considered
fre building. Jake Shackleton had
not been it's owner six months yet, and
all his reforms were not inaugurated.
From the yawning arch of its doorway
flights Of stairs led up and upward,
from stories where the presses ratified
all night to the editorial story where
the sentiments OF The Trumpet staff
were confided TO paper. This latter and
most important department was four
flights up the dark stairway. which was
lit at its turnings with large kerosene
lamps, backed by tin refiectOrs. There
was little Of the luxury of the modern
newspaper office about the barren, bus
iness-like building, echoing like an
empty shell to the shouts of men and
the pounding of machinery.
At the top of the fourth fight the
ladies paused. The landing broadened
out into sort of ante-room, bare and
windowless, two dejected-looking gas
jets dispensing a tarnished yellow light
into the surrounding gloom. A boy,
with sleek, oiled head, sat at a table
reading that mornings issue of The
Trumpet. He put it down as Mrs. Will
lers rose before his vision and nodded
familiarly to her. She gave. him a
quick word Of greeting and swept Mari
posa forward through doorway, down
a long passage, from which doors
opened into tiny rooms with desks and
droplights. The girl now and then had
slimpses OF men seated at the desks.
the radiance of the droplights hard on
their faces that had been lifted expec-
tantly as their ears caught the interest
ing rustic Of skirts in the corridor.
Suddenly, at the end of the passage,
Mrs. Willers struck with her knuckles
on closed portal. The next moment
Mariposa, with the light of large win
dow shining full ON her face. was shak-
ing hands with Shackleton. Then, in
response TO his motioning hands, she
took the chair beside the desk, where
she sat, facing the white glare of the
window, conscious Of his keen eyes
critically regarding her. Mrs. Willers
took a chair in the background. For a
moment she had fears that the nerv-