Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-01-21
From Yesterdays Starr
INSTALLMENT XIV.

utterly unconscious of the contact. He
glanced across at Staid and gray Miss
Ashcroft at the desk by the window;
he had had the forethought to provide
a safeguard to his experience. He was
in a mood now to wonder why. AS
Diana raised her eyes at his silence he
looked straight into them and she had
the grace to blush, charmingly, and drop
her gaze.
"You may as we'll tell our news
paper friends to come in, Miss Arden"
he told her. I'VE can't hold them of
forever, suppose-and they may as
well know the worst"
He went on into his own Office and
closed the door. He shivered slightly
he was not sure whether the cause
was Mortimers CHASTITY begging, or Miss
Arden's slim shoulder. Then he lighted
a cigarette.
He had kept the newspapers care
fully at arms length, denying himself
to reporters, letting Van Wrinkle talk
for him. Van Wrinkle was Singularly
discreet in what he said; he had a
story of his own he preferred not to
discuss. Now, however, since the great
story was, out, Brainard must see these
men. He fancied he could rid himself
of them quickly.
They came in a troop-more of
them than he had expected, certainly,
long and short, narrow and broad, gray
and brown, glib and terSe. They crowd
ed in about him in the small room
where he sat, and a spokesman named
Lindlay introduced himself and them.
They wanted interviews and photo
graphs and statements from Brainard
for their respective periodicals, and in
side experience of Brainard'S doings for
themselves.
They were the most disturbed group
of news-gatherers Brainard had ever
seen. Knowing their breed for the
most utterly blase brand of human
being eXtant, the object of their at
tentions was duly f1attered. But the
chief reaction he got out of the thing
was feeling of maturity and sophis-
tication as compared with these pant
ing young men-all young, whatever
their ages, from his new standpoint.
But he refused to talk-then. He
waited till they had fired their queS-
tons at him, then he got up from his |
chair
Il have just one answer to all QueS-
stions from any source, boys" he told |
them. Newspaper men were always boys |
to a man on a pinnacle, he reflected; |
it was all part of the joke! you've all
been in the theater down below, sup
pose. I haven't much to add to what
wit as you are reputed to be. Never
theleSS-"
He walked across to his door and
called Miss Arden.
Show these gentlemen down into
the multiple-unit room, on the tenth
floor" he instructed her, as she turned
up to him face of limpid guileless-
= ness.
They fdocked after her, out and down
the stairs-17 of them by count as they
filed past Brainard at the door. He
followed them. Two tried to button
hole him, but they hinched before his
look. He realized with a new sensation
endowing him with quality he had not
foreseen. They were afraid of him
afraid of his very glance! The idea
nearly cost him his grave dignity. A
Caesars glance, Ell! He, Radley Brain
ard, suddenly possessed of the eye OF
maJesty--the all-conquering gaze OF
sovereignty But why not? He had
known a boy pitcher with new curve
to acquire such q glancel
The room into which they went was
lined with white fabric, like all his ex-
hibition rooms. He had told no one
that this was bit of staging-part OF
o somewhat deliberately protective sys-
tenn, to which lenses and curtains and
varying lights also belonged, for clut
tering the road to his secrets with eff
fective but useless paraphernalia and
properties over which intruding feet
might stumble.
Here were two long rows of curtained
booths In which men and women who
chose to witness selections of their
own by private arrangement were being
experimentally accommodated.
Miss Arden left them, with luminous
backward glance at Brainard. He
closed the door behind her; she did not
look like one who would be apt to run
away from him. He turned to his
guests.
The room was filled with soft light,
In which figures were easily distin-
guiShed. Brainard swung the curtain
aside from a booth at hand.
Here" he said, "sitS young man so
intent on what he is seeing and hear
r ing that we shall probably not disturb
him"
A boy, perhaps 16, lay in a swinging
swivel chair, not unlike that luxurious
for comfort during the enjoyment of
Sensations-while you wait.
His face and head were enveloped in
hood from which extended a Sacklike
projection to the wall opening hornwise
to its fastenings. He looked like a
creature with its head enveloped in the
small end Of gigantic white morning
glory! Brainard put hand on the
boyiSh arm; it was rigid.
NO." he said, I'VE shall not disturb
him. Let's see what he is looking at.
If you will turn your attention to the
stage at the end of the room over there
will turn what may call the exhaust
of this scene up there for. you"
He sanpped key on the frame OF the
booth door,
"Ah, yes" he said, "the perennial Ty
Cobb"
A cloud of dust, a leaping man with
a mitted hand upStretched for high
thrown ball. a rushing form plunging
into superb slide, and the Peerless One
of matchless base ball fame sat UP on
some home plate of yesteryear and
grinned--while the roar of a joyous
crowd, barely glimpsed through the
murk, turned the quiet of the great
room into bedlam!
Enough of that!" said Brainard
swapping his key.
A sound burst from the lips of the
man nearest to him, involuntary, mar
ticulate, as an ejaculation forced from
him by blow.
"Oh, yes" said Brainard, as if he had
been asked question, ''the sound
creates vibrations we get out here. II
we kept the scene on you'd probably
smell the peanuts and the cigars and
the dust. I'm not so good at explaining
that sometimes think it's fraud OF
Of