Evening star., 1911-08-11
CHAPTER XXX.
Show Folks,

OxAz3x \ xlxN ZA<ARs
Show Folks.
'Mo-dunk'' shouted a brakeman slam
ming the door of the day coach in which
Loveland had travelled since some vague
ly remembered hour in the night. when
he had changed trains.
He had dozed. sitting on the hard red
seat. his head leaning wearily against the
window frame: ami he started up at the
yell which for ar instant seemed part of
his dream.
But then. everything lately had been a
dream. His weird experiences in New
York: the absence of replies from his
mother and the London bank in answer
to his cabled appeals: the coming Of the
telegram from Jack Jacobus accepting
the very modest terms named at Bills
suggestion: his start from the magnificent
Grand Central station in New York.
where the new Juvenile lead" had found
his ticket awaiting him. And now. as
he bundled half dazed out OF the local
train he had boarded some hours ago, the
dream suddenly grew more bewilder.ng
than ever
What contrast was this little country
depot with the splendors of the Grand
Central In New York. The rough frame
DullQluS was little OetIeT tIldu oil cAd6
gerated shed, and no town was to be
seen, across the desolate waste of brown
fields which billowed round the railway
shelter and its high platform. like
wintry sea round a small, bleak island.
Through an open door of the passen-
gers waiting room Loveland caught a
glimpse of a squat stove. rising like a
,, bodied gray dwarf from a big box OF
sawdust. and man who had been warm
ing his hands came out of the room as
Al, leo thrsn0
Or four other men. lolling on bench out
side, the window. but they were long
bearded, soft-hatted. tobacco-chewing in
. dividuals who had evidently dragged
themselves hither through the mud for
the excitement of seeing train come In.
and took no interest beyond that of
curiosity in the passengers.
The man who came out of the waiting
room was very different order OF being.
and almost extensively conscious of the
tall. with a staggering walk, which
caused the shabby fur-lined coat he wore
to swing like the skirt of woman S
. dress as he moved forward. He had on
patent leather boots, cracked with old
age and caked with new mud. His rather
! long. straight hair. and the heavy double
curve of his mustache clearly owed their
raven tint to artificial means. but his big
chin was blue, and the thick brows over
q pair Of light gray eyes were still black.
The nose and mouth. though ineffectively
cut contrived to express cruelty and an
insolence which was accentuated by the
upward tilt of cigar between the strong
yellowish teeth and the downward tilt OF
his badly kept silk hat
Every line of the face and figure, every
article of clothing. bespoke the fifth rate.
seedy actor, who has parted in his time
with most things. except his self-conceit
The idlers on the bench stared at him.
then at the newcomer and regarded with
lazy curiosity the meeting between the
two-for this gentleman in the tall silk
hat and fur overcoat was Mr.. Jack Jaco-
bus, come to claim Mr.. P. Gordon, the
new member of his company.
II it had been possible for LOveland' s
heart to sink lower-which at the moment
he did not believe-it would have sunk at
sight of Miss de Lisle's manager. But
he asked himself. what else had he q
and Bits assurance that 1t would be use
less to demand a higher weekly screw
than ten dollars, the management paying
board?
One quick glance and the glass-gray
eyes had taken in each detail of Love-
lands appearance. from the smartly made
. travelling cap, which still kept its shape,
down to the neat brown boots. He ap-
proved all. it WAS evident. except the bat
tered gladstone bag which Bill Willing
pawnbrokers sale. as a gift for his friend
Gordon. This Loveland carried in his
hand. and he saw the actor managers s
gaze rest sardonically upon 1t.
In deep. measured voice. as theatrical
as the rest OF his personality. Mr.. Jaco-
bus inquired if he had the pleasure of
seeing Mr.. Perceval Gordon. Then when
answered in the Affirmative, he delivered
himself of few polite words Of greeting.
Glad you got here all right. Don't
know what we should have done II you
hadn't turned up. Our juvenile lead came
down with typhoid at our last week g
stand and we've been fakin our best ever
since-any old play we could. that had
blin' parts till we was ready to drop on
the stage with the curtain. Got the
checks handy for your big baggage"
Loveland had to explain that he had no
big baggage. and under the changing.
freezing eyes of Jacobus felt as insignifi-
cant as crushed worm. Until very late
ly he had not known the meaning of this
sensation: now, he was becoming accus-
toned to 1t as to a daily worn coat; but
never. perhaps. had his pride been more
fatty ironed out than in this brief instant
"What-no wardrobe?' demanded the
manager; his tone of friendly condescen-
sion to a new member of his company
altered to one OF bullying suspicion.
my wardrobe is here" said Loveland,
holding out Bilrs present.
Sorry l forgot to bring magnifying
glass;" sneered Jacobus. But see here
call this false pertenses. How are you
going to play new part every night OF
the week. some Of 'em costoom ones, all
out OF a grip no bigger than your pocket?
You ought to have told me what you
didn't have-if It wouldn't have taken you
too long"
You ought to have told me I had to
play new part every night" said Love-
land. and the young man and the middle
aged one. looking each other straight In
the eyes, conceived for one another an
intense dislike. Il was given to under
stand by person OF experience that 1
could buy something-lf necessary
well, that depends on how soon you
buy" returned Jacobus. less bitterly.
You knew very wei; that you'd have me
on the leg once you got out here at this
God-forsaken place. with your ticket paid
Our show amt made Of money, especial
ly the past two weeks. Heavens! What