Evening star., 1921-08-07
BY ARTHUR STRINGER

his life.
His secretary. who also happened
surrender and tried to forestall it.
Say, Chief. you're not going to try
to sit through two hours of barn
storming like that?" he demanded.
trying to elbow the great manager
back from the steady stream ebbing
in through the narrow foyer.
They're getting the thing over" an
nounced the older and wiser man
and is always worth while seeing
how they do their trick. We're here
till midnight. And I'm going to see
this show"
We'll. you'd better get your ear
muffs on" warned the morose-eyed
young man as he followed in through
the wicket after the chief, who. in
some way, seemed able to make
everything grist for his mill. For
you'll think you're in shooting gal
lery before they get their first cur
tain down"
MY boy. there's lots to learn about
gunplay, in this business" was the
others solemn rejoiner. And I've got
to get fixed about that shooting scene
of ours in Monte Carlo
this outfit" observed young Loeser
as the first crash from the three-plece
jazz band sounded from the obsolete
old orchestra pit.
1t was Hunkie Hoppe, counting up
the house through the curtain peep
hole. who first spotted Budanski. For
one incredulous moment he stuoied
the silvery-h haired man with the in
congruously granite jaw. made sure
it was Budanski. and turned back to
electrify his company with the news.
He encountered Anada kinsella.
made up and waiting. She was seated
on a rickety flight of property steps,
quietly darning a silk stocking.
: "Girlie." cried Hunkie. galvanized
into mysterious excitement, you gotta
play up tonight. You gotta send it
over strong.
why" asked the girl, weaving her
needle in and out through the mesh of
thin silk
Because Budanskrs out front"
She looked up at him for an alb
stracted moment.
who's Budanski?" she inquired.
turning the stocking on her arm.
Hunkie. who came from the banks
of the Hudson. groaned aloud.
who's Budanski? And you adver-
tisin' yourself as an actress! You
or who's Shakespeare! Who's Budan-
ski? Say. just pipe them words to
your mother. grille, and see II they
get to her or not.
But he found it impossible to infect
her with any echo of his own excite
ment.
why should l have to play up be.
cause he happens to be out 'front.'"
asked the quiet-eyed girl as she
! folded up her stocking.
Because Budanskis the biggest
producing manager in America.
averred Hunkie. with the emphasis of
retarded enunciation.
THAT doesn't necessarily interest
| me in him." was the others cool re-
| tort.
| ested in you?" demanded the patiently
impatient Hunkie. IF he's here to
spot new material. it amt me, and il
amt fat old Hornick over there. and
it amt Goldie. and it amt the missus
Can't you see it. girl? You're the only
| conner in this bunch O. has-beens. It's
you who's going to be sized up"
| The girl sat back with a sudden ar
| resting of all movement. Her ques-
tioning eyes sought Hunkie's broad
! face. Then her own face hardened
! even under her makeup.
"Supposing it's Wallie Craswell -
| she said in little more than a whisper
| Hunkie Hopes laugh was a raucous
one.
| Wallie amt no actor" was hi.
! prompt declaration. Hes a sheep.
| herder stalling along on his shape"
| He heard the overture end and
, veered off to his duties. fortified with
the thought of how the older woman
| would respond to his news. She un-
| derstood. Her response to that knowl-
edge would be as automatic and in.
stinctive as the response of an ole
fire horse to the sudden clangor o
an alarm gong.
| But when he told her. in the wings
just before she went on for her first.
act scene with her daughter. Rather
| inc sKinselAJhd not seem to hear him
| She moved with the abstraction of q
sleep-walker, the bloodlessness of hel
| face accentuating the lines of hei
makeup and imposing on her an ex-
! ceptional look of age. Even her voice
| rang back husky and hollow from the
open nav Of light into which she had