The Argosy, March 1907 — page 161: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

4 A CALL FOR THE AUTHORS. 733 around in a couple of days, I may be able to help you; but just now my head is too full of the new play to permit of my giving a thought to anything else. You see how it is?” He pointed eloquently to the heap of papers on his desk. “Yes. I see,” said the detective rising. “Tl drop in to-morrow, when you're less busy. Sorry to have disturbed you, old man. Hope the new play will be a huge success. Hello! What’s this?” His small, ferret-like eyes were fas- tened intently on a typewritten manu- script which lay on the manager’s desk. “That? Why, that’s the manuscript of the new play. Why do you ask?” in- quired the manager, in some surprise. Without answering, the detective took a fine magnifying-glass from his vest- pocket and held it over the top page. _ “Who wrote this play?” he inquired eagerly. ‘A young man named Tom Grey and a girl named Cecilia Vivian. They’re unknown in the theatrical world now, but, mark my word, after to-night, they’ll be famous. Why do you ask?” “What I mean is—who typewrote the play?” inquired the detective. ‘They did. I remember their men- tioning that they typewrote it themselves instead of giving it .out. What are you trying to get at, Butts?”’ Never mind! I’m awfully glad I dropped in here to-day to see you. ‘This looks like a pretty good clue. Did either of these two authors know the dead man —Bates?’’ ifiquired the detective. ‘IT don’t know. They might have. If so, they didn’t mention the fact to me, although, come to think of it, Miss Viv- ian went off into a faint when I told her that poor Bates had been murdered. But what on earth are you driving at, Butts? ”’ | “So the girl went off into a faint, did she? And the fellow—what, did he do? Was he present at the time?”’ “Yes, he was there. If I remember rightly, he turned rather pale. I guess ~ news like that would be enough to upset anybody. Why do you ask?” . “You'll learn why later. By the way, you don’t need this manuscript, do you? You can spare a couple of pages of it for a few days.” “Yes, I guess so. I’ve got copies of it. Won’t you please tell me what you’re trying to get at?” “ Never mind. You'll learn more later on. I won't bother you any longer to-day, Smiley. «By the way, do you know the home addresses of this young man and the girl?” “The girl lives at the Abigail Hotel. I don’t remember where Grey lives. Why do you want their home addresses ?” For reply, the detective smiled enig- matically, and tearing the two top sheets from the manuscript, he folded the type- written pages and put them in his pocket. Then he glided out of the manager’s office. “ Queer cuss,” mused Smiley, as his visitor disappeared. ‘“‘I wonder what he’s got in that bullet head of his now?” Detective-Sergeant Butts went straight to the Abigail Hotel and inquired for Miss Cecilia Vivian. The clerk informed him that Miss Vivian was not in her room. She had gone out early that morning. “ Alone? ”’ inquired the sleuth. “No. She was accompanied by a gen- tleman who called for her.” ..' A young man named Tom Grey?” “Yes, sir. That is who it was.” ‘Where have they gone? ”’ ‘“T don’t know, but if you want to see them very badly, you’ll find them at the Gaiety Theater to-night. They’ve writ- ten a play which is to be produced there, you know. Do you wish to leave any card or message for Miss Vivian??? ‘No, thanks. I guess I'll see them at the theater,’ answered the _ detective dryly. III. THE curtain at the Gaiety went uP at eight-thirty sharp that night. The house was crowded with a typical first-night audience. Behind the scenes, everybody was more or less nervous and excited. Even Man- ager Smiley, usually calmness _personi- fied, appeared to be in a very anxious state of mind. As for the authors of the new play, they were delirious with joy one minute and trembling with apprehension and doubt the next. ‘ "GCOMIEDOOKS. CoM ~