Bonners Ferry herald. [volume] (Bonners Ferry, Idaho) 1904-current, 1918-04-09


sixth street, shouldered by a denser
rabble whose faces, all turned In one
direction, shone livid with the glare Of
a gigantic electric sign, midway down
the block:
THEATER MAX
SARA LAWS FAREWELL.
1t was nearly half-past eight; the
house had been open since seven; and
still queue ran from the gallery doors
TO Broadway. The lobby itself was
crowded to suffocatlon with an occi-
dental durbar of barbaric magnihcence,
the city's supreme manifestation of
its religion, the ultimate rite in the
worship of the pomps of the flesh.
'Look at that" Max grumbled
through his cigar. "Ain't it shame?"
"What7" Whitaker had to lift his
voice to make 1t carry above the buzz
zing of the throng.
'The money I'm losing" returned
the manager, wildly disguised. az
could've filed the Metropolitan opera
house three times overi"
He swung on his heel and began to
push his way out of the lobby. "Come
along-no use trying to get In this
way"
Whitaker followed, to be led down a
blind alley between the theater and
the adjoining hotel. An Illuminated
sign advertised the stage door, through
which, via a brief hallway, they en-
tered the postscenium and-Max drag
cling him by the arm-passed through
a small door into the gangway behind
the boxes.
Curtains just up" Max told him I;
SARA doesn't come on till near the
middle Of the act. Make yourself com
Portable; I'll be back before long"
He drew aside a curtain and ushered
his guest into the right-hand stage-box,
then vanished. The few empty stalls
were rapidly filing up. There was a
fluent movement through the aisles. A
subdued hum and rustic rose from that
portion of the audience which was al
ready seated. The business going on
upon the stage was receiving little at
tention-from Whitaker as little as
from anyone. The opening scene in
the development of the drama inter
ested the gathering little or not at all I;
1t was hanging in suspense upon the
unfolding of some extraordinary devel-
opment, something unprecedented and
extraneous. foreign to the play.
Max slipped quietly into the box and
handed his guest program. Better
get over here" he suggested In a
hoarse whisper, indicating chair near
the rail. you may never have an
other chance to see the greatest living
actress. Wonderful house." he whis-
pered, sitting down behind Whitaker.
''Drummond hasn't shown up yet,
though"
"That so?" Whitaker returned over
his shoulder.
''Yes; it's funny; never knew him to
be so late. He always has the aisle
seat fourth row, center. But he'll be
along presently"
He glanced idly at his program, in
differently absorbing the information
that "Jules Max has the honor to pre-
sent Miss Sara Law In her first and
greatest success entitled Joan Thurs
day-a play in three acts"
The audience stirred expectantly; a
movement ran through it like the
movement of waters. murmurous, up
on a shore. Whitaker's gaze was
drawn TO the stage as If by an i'm
placable force. Max shifted on the
chair behind him and said something
indistinguishable, in an unnatural tone.
A woman had come upon the stage,
suddenly and tempestuously. banging
a door behind her. The audience got
the barest glimpse of her profile as,
pausing momentarily. she eyed the
other actors. Then, without speaking,
she turned and walked up-stage, her
back to the footlights.
Applause broke out like a thunder
clap. pealing heavily through the big
auditorium, but the actress showed no
consciousness of it. She was standing
before a cheap mirror, removing her
hat, arranging her hair with the
typical, unconscious gestures of a
weary shopgirl; she was acting-living
the scene, with no time TO waste In