Part 16 (1/2)

”Mornin', Mr. Smith, mornin', Mrs. Jones. Ha, ladies and gentlemen, all here?”

He shot every word out of his mouth as if the after-taste of it were unpleasant to him. He walked among the chorus like an angry king among his va.s.sals, and his glance was a flash of insolent fire. From his head to his feet he was the very epitome of self-sufficient, brutal conceit.

Kitty trembled as she noted the hush that fell on the people at his entrance. She felt like rus.h.i.+ng out of the room. She could never face this terrible man. She trembled more as she found his eyes fixed upon her.

”Who 's that?” he asked, disregarding her, as if she had been a stick or a stone.

”Well, don't snap her head off. It 's a girl friend of mine that wants a place,” said Hattie. She was the only one who would brave Martin.

”Humph. Let her wait. I ain't got no time to hear any one now. Get yourselves in line, you all who are on to that first chorus, while I 'm getting into my sweat-s.h.i.+rt.”

He disappeared behind a screen, whence he emerged arrayed, or only half arrayed, in a thick absorbing s.h.i.+rt and a thin pair of woollen trousers.

Then the work began. The man was indefatigable. He was like the spirit of energy. He was in every place about the stage at once, leading the chorus, showing them steps, twisting some awkward girl into shape, shouting, gesticulating, abusing the pianist.

”Now, now,” he would shout, ”the left foot on that beat. Bah, bah, stop!

You walk like a lot of tin soldiers. Are your joints rusty? Do you want oil? Look here, Taylor, if I did n't know you, I 'd take you for a truck. Pick up your feet, open your mouths, and move, move, move! Oh!”

and he would drop his head in despair. ”And to think that I 've got to do something with these things in two weeks--two weeks!” Then he would turn to them again with a sudden reaccession of eagerness. ”Now, at it again, at it again! Hold that note, hold it! Now whirl, and on the left foot. Stop that music, stop it! Miss Coster, you 'll learn that step in about a thousand years, and I 've got nine hundred and ninety-nine years and fifty weeks less time than that to spare. Come here and try that step with me. Don't be afraid to move. Step like a chicken on a hot griddle!” And some blus.h.i.+ng girl would come forward and go through the step alone before all the rest.

Kitty contemplated the scene with a mind equally divided between fear and anger. What should she do if he should so speak to her? Like the others, no doubt, smile sheepishly and obey him. But she did not like to believe it. She felt that the independence which she had known from babyhood would a.s.sert itself, and that she would talk back to him, even as Hattie Sterling did. She felt scared and discouraged, but every now and then her friend smiled encouragingly upon her across the ranks of moving singers.

Finally, however, her thoughts were broken in upon by hearing Mr. Martin cry: ”Oh, quit, quit, and go rest yourselves, you ancient pieces of hickory, and let me forget you for a minute before I go crazy. Where 's that new girl now?”

Kitty rose and went toward him, trembling so that she could hardly walk.

”What can you do?”

”I can sing,” very faintly.

”Well, if that 's the voice you 're going to sing in, there won't be many that 'll know whether it 's good or bad. Well, let 's hear something. Do you know any of these?”

And he ran over the t.i.tles of several songs. She knew some of them, and he selected one. ”Try this. Here, Tom, play it for her.”

It was an ordeal for the girl to go through. She had never sung before at anything more formidable than a church concert, where only her immediate acquaintances and townspeople were present. Now to sing before all these strange people, themselves singers, made her feel faint and awkward. But the courage of desperation came to her, and she struck into the song. At the first her voice wavered and threatened to fail her. It must not. She choked back her fright and forced the music from her lips.

When she was done, she was startled to hear Martin burst into a raucous laugh. Such humiliation! She had failed, and instead of telling her, he was bringing her to shame before the whole company. The tears came into her eyes, and she was about giving way when she caught a rea.s.suring nod and smile from Hattie Sterling, and seized on this as a last hope.

”Haw, haw, haw!” laughed Martin, ”haw, haw, haw! The little one was scared, see? She was scared, d' you understand? But did you see the grit she went at it with? Just took the bit in her teeth and got away. Haw, haw, haw! Now, that 's what I like. If all you girls had that spirit, we could do something in two weeks. Try another one, girl.”

Kitty's heart had suddenly grown light. She sang the second one better because something within her was singing.

”Good!” said Martin, but he immediately returned to his cold manner.

”You watch these girls close and see what they do, and to-morrow be prepared to go into line and move as well as sing.”

He immediately turned his attention from her to the chorus, but no slight that he could inflict upon her now could take away the sweet truth that she was engaged and to-morrow would begin work. She wished she could go over and embrace Hattie Sterling. She thought kindly of Joe, and promised herself to give him a present out of her first month's earnings.

On the first night of the show pretty little Kitty Hamilton was pointed out as a girl who would n't be in the chorus long. The mother, who was soon to be Mrs. Gibson, sat in the balcony, a grieved, pained look on her face. Joe was in a front row with some of the rest of the gang. He took many drinks between the acts, because he was proud.

Mr. Thomas was there. He also was proud, and after the performance he waited for Kitty at the stage door and went forward to meet her as she came out. The look she gave him stopped him, and he let her pa.s.s without a word.