The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1917-07-06
CHAPTER Xxx.
AnticIimax.


or less at a loose end. A belated
sense of this struck Rodney at the end
of their last consultation.
I'm sorry 1 haven't been able to do
MORE" Rodney said-"do anything
really, in the way of showing you a
good time. AS q matter Of fact, I've
spent every evening this week here in
the Office"
"Oh, l haven't lacked for entertain
ment." the man said. 'We hayseeds
find the city a pretty lively place. I
went to see a show just last night
called The Girl Upstairs I sup
pose you've seen it,"
NO" said Rodney, ST haven't"
"Well, it was downright funny. l
haven't laughed so hard in year. If
you want a real good time, you go to
see it,
The last part of this conversation
took place in the outer Office. Rodney
saw the man off with q final hand
shake, closed the door after him. and
strolled irresolutely back toward Miss
Beachs desk.
1t was true, he'd been taking 1t on
rather recklessly during the past two
months. But they'd been pretty
sterile, those long, solitary evening
hours. He'd worked fitfully, grinding
away by brute strength for a while,
and then, in a frenzy Of impatience,
thrusting the legal rubbish out Of the
way and letting the enigma of his
great failure usurp his mind and his
memories.
Telephone over to the University
club" he said suddenly to Miss Beach,
"and see If you can get me q seat for
The Girl Upstairs
The office boy was out on an errand
and in his absence the switchboard
was in Miss Beach's care. She arose
obediently and moved over to the
switchboard, then began fumbling
with the directory.
"Why, Miss Beach," said Rodney.
You know the number of the Univer-
sity club ~
He was looking at her now with un-
disguised curiosity. She was acting,
for perfectly infallible machine like
Miss Beach, almost queer. Without
looking around at him, she said: "Mr.
Aldrich, you won't like that show. If
you go, you'll be sorry
While he was still staring at her,
young Craig came bursting blithely
out of his office. "Oh, Miss Beach !"
he said, and then stopped short. see
ing that something had happened.
Rodney tried an experiment.
Craig" he said, Miss Beach doesn't
want me to see The Girl Upstairs
She says I won't like it. Do you agree
with herr"
A flare of red came into the boys
face, and his jaw dropped. Then, as
we'll as he could, he pulled himself
together. "Yes, sir" he said, swung
around, and marched back into his
own cubbyhole.
"You needn't telephone, Miss
Beach," said Rodney curtly. And,
without another word he put on his
hat and overcoat, walked straight over
to the club and told the man at the
cigar counter to get him a ticket for
tonights performance of "The Girl
Upstairs"
1t was after five, and he decided he
might as we'll dine here. So he went
up to the lounge, armed himself with
an evening paper, and dropped into
big leather chair.
But all his carefully contrived en-
vironment hadn't the power, 1t seemed,
to shift the current of his thoughts.
They went on dwelling on the be-
havior of Miss Beach and young
Craig, which really got queerer the
more one thought about 1t.
He flung down his paper and went
into the adjoining room. The large
round table nearest the door was pre-
empted by a group Of men he knew,
and he came up with the intention of
dropping into the one vacant chair,
But just before the first of them caught
a glimpse of him his ear picked up the
phrase "The Girl Upstairs" And
then a lawyer in the group looked up
and recognized him. Hello, Aid
rich" he said, and the flash of
silence that followed had a galvanic
quality. The others began urging him
to sit down, but he said he was look
ing for somebody, and walked away
down the room and out the farther
door.
He knew now that he was afraid.
Yet the thing he was afraid Of refused
to come out into the open where he
could see it and know what it was.
He still believed that he didn't know
what it was when he walked past the
framed photographs in the lobby Of
the theater without looking at them
and stopped at the box office to ex
change his seat, we'll down in front
for one near the back of the theater.
But when the sextette made their
first entrance upon the stage, he knew
that he had known for a good many
hours.
He never stirred from his seat dur
ing either OF the tntermissions. But
along in the third act he got up and
went out.
The knout that fiOgged his soul had
a score of lashcs, each with the sting
of its own peculiar venom. Everybody
who knew him, his closer friends and
his casual acquaintanCes as well, must
have known, for weeks, of this dis