Evening star., 1921-08-07
Gun Gu Play
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go colorless. Il as the barrel OF her
weapon was brought slowly about until
it was pointed directly at the heart OF
her victim. 40
CHE waited. and breathless house
~ waited with her. as she took one
shuddering breath. her finger hesitat-
ing on the trigger. Her face. with Its
horror-widened eyes. was now averted
from the debonair youth into whose
body her bullet was supposed to crash.
That face Btared, as bloodless as
skull, toward the audience 1t did not
see, and even Budanski himself felt
the scampering mouse feet OF emo
tional reaction up and down his spine
held b: lie sepuichral blank face Of
the wou..a SO terribly afraid OF death.
There's greatness in that, whis-
pered the master Of stagecraft, for the
second time. ..-
Then he leaned forward. with a
for the thread of the thing seemed to
snap. The forward-thrust body of the
woman with the revolver suddenly
stinened. She fell back few steps.
with the wading motion of bather
half immersed in water, hung the re-
volver away from her. and as she
stood facing the audience sobbed out
brokenly, Il can't do 1t! can't do it,"
She raised her hands. as though to
cover her face. But before that move
ment could be completed she went
down on the dusty boards of the stage
front. She did not fall. for it was not
the faint that most of the audience
inferred it to be. 1t was more a slow
crumbling down of the inert body, a
subsidence without sound or shock.
The only preceptible. sound, indeed.
in the momentary hush of that mo-
tionless and slightly mystified house
was the small noise of sobs from the
woman lying with her head toward
the stage apron, inhaling floor dust
and clawing foolishlyr at the board
cracks. ,..- "a
1t was the company behind that
stage-apron. more than the audience
in front of it. which stood startled by
this unlooked-for ending to the ia
miliar old story: Wallie Craswell
sharply called out to Anada Kinsella:
was lost In the tumult Of a dozen
supers. made UP as poems. providing
noisily out on the stage for the finale,
as they had been duly schooled to do.
, The old woman's gone blooey!"
gasped Hunkie Hoppe, trying to herd
Get your curtain down" called
.Grimshaw. signaling to the one-eyed
orchestra leader to start his recess
sional music. Half the audience was
on its feet by this time. and the
strained laughter of woman in
gallery seat was sharpening into the
uncontrolled screams Of hysteria.
Help me here" Wallie Craswell
cried out to Hoppe. as.he stopped to
iift the passive woman from the floor
boards. Are you all right?" he
gasped as he backed away with his
there! This side. Anada, ana wen
get her to a dressing room"
Hunkie Hoppe, once his curtain
was down. gaped after the white
faced woman being supported by the
girl and the young man on either
And she gummed her best scene
with Budanski out 'front.'" he NUT
tered as he picked up the fallen re-
volver. Then he turned irritably to
the staring supers. Get off the
stage. you muckers! Can't you see
Mother. are you all right?" the
girl was still demanding of the older
woman beside her. For that older
woman had suddenly stopped and
stared at her with the abstra ction of
somnambulist. Then she had turned
into the face of the youth in the RI
d1culous Mexican Jacket braided with
brass seQuins. Slowly she took the
brown-stained hand which had been
ciasping her arm and lifted it toward
the hite-powdered hand of the girl
two hands toward each other until
they met and clasped She did so
with 2 solemnty which tended to
translate the movement into a rite.
She was even able to smile wfntrily
at those hesitatingly clasped Angers
wnicn tiehtened at her surrendering
Yes. I'm all right" she said az she
w,aiksd va unsteadlly toward her dress-
Loeser. sitting beside Budanski as
the theater noisily emptied, drew a
'Tn be darned il that old she.
trouper didn't give me a shiver 'up the
backbone" he said with an achieved
air Of fiippancy. 4 y
She'll give you quite-a few before
I'm through with her. '"retorted the
older man. .'..
Loeser. who knew his chief, did not
let the significance of that declaration
escape him.
But can she do it again?, he asked
with his eyes on the curtain stippled
with its competitive trade announce
She did it once didn't she7"
We've just seen it, admitted the
younger man. -.
Then it's up to me to make her
do it again." was Budanski's un-
troubled retort.
Mother, called Anada at Kath-
later. there's a Mr.. Moor BudansKi .da Rlnpers bers
to see you.'
There was a ponderable lapse of
time before any answer came from
the woman behind the closed door.
VIII you ask him what for?" the
mufied voice finally said. Eut Bu-
girl aside There was fmpatience in
his gesture.
ITO get you back to Broadway be-
fore the end of the month";" announced
the old manager, swinging back the
door. ITO sign you up for three years,
lady: before !! leave this room"
"Wait-wait till Finish dressing" :"
faltered the lady in question. with
one hand on the greasy back of a
chair with broken leg and the other
holding a clustered soiled kimono
against her shoulders.
"Fiddlesticks." retorted the great
man Of Broadway. with his Napo-
leoMc prerogatives. 'T've only forty
minutes to get this business settled.
And I've only five weeks to get you
back into real stage work. So let's
get down to brass tacks. Does fve
hundred week seem q fair figure
for the first year,"
Slowly the woman turned over the
crumpled kfmono and slowly she
thrust her arms through the faded
volumfnous sleeves. All the while her
eyes were on Budanski's face. They
were opaque and expressionless. but
the machinery of thought behind them
MI (Hyin
of conjecture. She knew what it
meant, in q way. from the moment she