The Argosy for May — page 156: what you’re looking at

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

AT THE. END ‘Yes, he is,” Walker insisted. ‘‘ He sent for me—in fact, he called upon me yesterday, and not finding me in, left word for me to come here as ‘soon as possible.” “Well, I don’t know .nothing about that,” the boy said slowly. ‘“‘ But I do know he ain't in now. He was here yesterday, but he left for Paris last night.” The dramatist’s face fell. ‘““He has gone to Paris, you say?” he repeated blankly. “Yes; and he told me himself that he would not be back fill Thursday morning. If he wants to see you, you had better come around then.” Without a word, Walker faced about, and shambled out of the ‘office. “Tt’s no use!” he fairly moaned. Then suddenly his eyes blazed fire; and he ground his teeth together. “It’s that American’s fault! Of course, Myers has decided to take the play—that’s certain. But the suspense of it would have been ended if I had not changed my hotel. And that man forced me to it—curse him!” Then he calmed down, as he again found himself upon the street. ‘Oh, well, it will be all right Thurs- day, I am certain,” he told himself. IV, Tur remainder of the day dragged slowly by, Walker feeling too impatient to busy himself with any work. Suddenly the thoughts of his engage- ment for the next evening occurred to him; but he quickly decided he would not avail himself of the good time Miss Bailey had promised. He knew every one there would be successful people of the day; while he—well, he had just simply failed. He felt he could not endure the stories of their attainments— these would only accentuate his own con- dition. When he had accepted the invitation the day before, this had not occurred to him; but now he saw the folly of at- tending. He knew he could not be him- self; and his depressed spirits would certainly be noticed.. It would certainly be in strong contrast with the jovial, happy people around him. OF HIS ROPE. 343 Yet Walker could not nerve himself to send his regrets. He pondered over the subject for some time, and at length reached a plan of action—he would call Miss Bailey on the phone Thursday, and plead a business engagement which came up at the last moment, and did not give him an opportunity to write. His dinner was scarcely touched ; and he hurried to his room again, where he flung himself into an easy chair. Here he sat far into the night, smoking and thinking. The next morning he awoke to the realization that his head throbbed and ached. He felt ill—sick mentally and physically. He endeavored to eat a light breakfast, but gave it up in disgust —his stomach rebelled at the very sight of food. It was late in the afternoon when Walker strolled out into the street, thinking the air might benefit him. In- stinctively, his footsteps turned toward the building in which were located the Myers offices, and, without heeding his direction, he kept on, and was presently standing before the place. ‘‘ Myers may have returned,” he told himself. “ I'll just drop in, anyway, and find out.” But the manager: was still in Paris. “He went over there to see some play that was to go on last night,” the boy informed him. ‘Mr. Myers heard it was a good one, so he went over to see if he could get it. He was going to see the final dress-rehearsal.”’ Walker’s face blanched, and he stag- gered at this piece of news. Could it be Myers would take it in preference to his own? He felt com- pletely crushed now. He made his. way slowly back to his hotel. He was glad now that he had made no preparations to accept Miss Bailey’s invitation—he surely could not go now. He retired early to his room, to be alone with his discouragement. The next morning found him in the same gloomy state of mind, although, shining through it .all, there was a ray of hope. But it was so small that often it was lost completely for moments at a time; then would appear, only to be quickly swallowed once more in the darkness of despair through which he was groping. 1OOOL< (CO)