XII.
When Obermuller sent for me I thought he wanted to see me about thatplay he's writing in which I'm to star--when the pigs begin to fly.
Funniest thing in the world about that man, Mag. He knows he can't getbookings for any play on earth; that if he did they'd be canceled andany old excuse thrown at him, as soon as Tausig heard of it and couldput on the screws. He knows that there isn't an unwatched hole intheatrical America through which he can crawl and pull me and the playin after him. And yet he just can't let go working on it. He lovesit, Mag; he loves it as Molly loved that child of hers that kept hernursing it all the years of its life, and left her feeling that theworld had been robbed of everything there was for a woman to do when itdied.
Obermuller has told me all the plot. In fact, he's worked it out onme. I know it as it is, as he wanted it to be, and as it's going tobe. He tells me he's built it up about me; that it will fit me asnever a comedy fitted a player yet, and that we'll make such a hit--theplay and I together--that ...
And then he remembers that there's no chance; not the ghost of one; andhe falls to swearing at the Trust.
"Don't you think, Mr. O.," I said, as he began again when I came intohis office, "that it might be as well to quit cursing the Syndicatetill you've got something new to say or something different to railabout? It seems to me a man's likely to get daffy if he keeps harpingon--"
"Oh, I've got it all right, Nance, be sure of that! I've got somethingdifferent to say of them and something new to swear about. They'vedone me up; that's all. Just as they've fixed Iringer and Gaffney andHowison."
"Tell me."
He threw out his arms and then let them fall to his side.
"Oh, it's easy," he cried, "so easy that I never thought of it.They've just bought the Vaudeville out of hand and served notice on methat when my lease expires next month they'll not be able to renew it,'unfortunately'! That's all. No; not quite. In order to kill allhope of a new plan in me they've just let it get to be understood thatany man or woman that works for Obermuller needn't come round to themat any future time."
"Phew! A blacklist."
"Not anything so tangible. It's just a hint, you know, but it worksall right. It works like--"
"What are you going to do; what can you do?"
"Shoot Tausig or myself, or both of us."
"Nonsense!"
"Yes, of course, it's nonsense, or rather it's only what I'd like todo.... But that's not the question. Never mind about me. It's whatare you going to do?"
He looked straight at me, waiting. But I didn't answer. I wasthinking.
"You don't realize, Nance, what those fellows are capable of. WhenGaffney told me, before he gave up and went West, that there was agenuine signed conspiracy among them to crush out us independents, Ilaughed at him. 'It's a dream, Gaffney,' I said. 'Forget it.' 'It's nodream, as you'll find out when your turn comes in time,' he shouted.'It's a fact, and what's more, Iringer once taxed Tausig to his facewith it; told him he knew there was such a document in existence,signed by the great Tausig himself, by Heffelfinger of the Pacificcircuit; by Dixon of Chicago, and Weinstock of New Orleans, bindingthemselves to force us fellows to the wall, and specifying the percent. of profit each one of 'em should get on any increase ofbusiness; to blacklist every man and woman that worked for us; to buyup our debts and even bring false attachments, when--'"
"Now, weren't there enough real debts to satisfy 'em? They're hard toplease, if you haven't creditors enough to suit 'em!"
He looked grim, but he didn't speak.
"I don't believe it, anyway, Mr. O; and 'tisn't good for you to keepthinking about just one thing. You'll land where Iringer did, if youdon't look out. How did he know about it, anyway?"
"There was a leak in Tausig's office. Iringer used to be in with them,and he had it from a clerk who--but never mind that. It's theblacklisting I'm talking about now. Gray's just been in to see me, tolet me know that she quits at the end of the season. And his Lordship,too, of course. You're not burdened with a contract, Nance. Perhapsyou'd better think it over seriously for a day or two and decide if itwouldn't be best--"
"I don't have to," I interrupted then.
"Nance!" he cried, jumping up, as though he'd been relieved of half histroubles.
"I don't have to think it over," I went on slowly, not looking at thehand he held out to me. "It doesn't take long to know that when you'rebetween the devil and the deep sea, you'd better try--the devil ratherthan be forced out into the wet."
"What?--you don't mean--"
I knew he was looking at me incredulously, but I just wouldn't meet hiseye.
"My staying with you will do you no good--" was hurrying now to get itover with--"and it would do me a lot of harm. I think you're right,Mr. Obermuller; I'd better just go over to where it's warm. They'll beglad to get me and--and, to tell the truth, I'll be glad to get in withthe Syndicate, even if I can't make as good terms as I might have byselling that contract, which--like the famous conspiracy you're halfmad about--never existed."
He sat down on the edge of the desk. I caught one glimpse of his face.It was black; that was enough for me. I turned to go.
"Ah, but it did, Miss Olden, it did!" he sneered.
"I won't believe it on the word of a man that's been in the lunaticasylum ever since he lost his theater."
"Perhaps you'll believe it on mine."
I jumped. "On yours!"
"Didn't that little bully, when he lost his temper that day at the VanTwiller, when we had our last fight--didn't he pull a paper out of hisbox and shake it in my face, and--"
"But--you could have them arrested for conspiracy and--"
"And the proof of it could be destroyed and then--but I can't see howthis interests you."
"No--no," I said thoughtfully. "I only happened to lump it in with thecontract we haven't--you and I. And as there's no contract, whythere's no need of my waiting till the end of the season."
"Do you mean to say you'd--you'd--"
"If 'twere done, 'twere better it'd be done--quickly," I saidMacbethically.
He looked at me. Sitting there on his desk, his clenched fist on hisknee, he looked for a moment as though he was about to fly at me. Thenall of a sudden he slipped into his chair, leaned back and laughed.
It wasn't a pleasant laugh, Mag. No--wait. Let me tell you the rest.
"You are so shrewd, Olden, so awfully shrewd! Your eye is soeverlastingly out for the main chance, and you're still so young that Ipredict a--a great future for you. I might even suggest that bycultivating Tausig personally--"
"You needn't."
"No, you're right; I needn't. You can discount any suggestion I mightmake. You just want to be the first to go over, eh? To get therebefore Gray does--to get all there is in it for the first rebel thatlays down his arms; not to come in late when submission is stale--andcheap. Don't worry about terms, you poor little babe in the woods.Don't--" His own words seemed to choke him.
"Don't you think--" I began a bit unsteadily.
"I think--oh, what a fool I've been!"
That stiffened me.
"Of course, you have," I said cordially. "It's silly to fight thepush, isn't it? It's only the cranks that get cocky and think they canupset the fellows on top. The thing to do is to find out which is thestronger--if you're a better man than the other fellow, down him. Ifhe's the champion, enlist under him. But be in it. What's the use ofbeing a kicker all your life? You only let some one else come in forthe soft things, while you stay outside and gnaw your finger-nails andplot and plan and starve. You spend your life hoping to live to-morrow,while the Tausigs are living high to-day. The thing to do is to behumble if you can't be arrogant. If they've got you in the door, don'tcurse, but placate them. Think of Gaffney herding sheep out in Nevada;of Iringer in the asylum; of Howison--"
"Admirable! admirable!" he interrupted sarcastically. "The only faultI have to find with your harangue is that
you've misconceived mymeaning entirely. But I needn't enlighten you. Good morning, MissOlden--good-by."
He turned to his desk and pulled out some papers. I knew he wasn't sodesperately absorbed in them as he pretended to be.
"Won't you shake hands," I asked, "and wish me luck?"
He put down his pen. His face was white and hard, but as he looked atme it gradually softened.
"I suppose--I suppose, I am a bit unreasonable just this minute," hesaid slowly. "I'm hard hit and--and I don't just know the way out.Still, I haven't any right to--to expect more of you than there is inyou, you poor little thing! It's not your fault, but mine, that I'veexpected--Oh, for God's sake--Nance--go, and leave me alone!"
I had to take that with me to the Van Twiller, and it wasn't pleasant.But Tausig received me with open arms.
"Got tired of staying out in the cold--eh?" he grinned.
"I'm tired of vaudeville," I answered. "Can't you give me a chance ina comedy?"
"Hm! Ambitious, ain't you?"
"Obermuller has a play all ready for me--written for me. He'd star mefast enough if he had the chance."
"But he'll never get the chance."
"Oh, I don't know."
"But I do. He's on the toboggan; that's where they all get, my dear,when they get big-headed enough to fight us."
"But Obermuller's not like the others. He's not so easy. And he is soclever; why, the plot of that comedy is the bulliest thing--"
"You've read it--you remember it?"
"Oh, I know it by heart--my part of it. You see, he wouldn't keep awayfrom me while he was thinking of it. He kept consulting me abouteverything in it. In a way, we worked over it together."
The little man looked at me, slowly closing one eye. It is a habit ofhis when he's going to do something particularly nasty.
"Then, in a way, as you say, it is part yours."
"Hardly! Imagine Nance Olden writing a line of a play!"
"Still you--collaborated; that's the word. I say, my dear, if I couldread that comedy, and it was--half what you say it is, I might--I don'tpromise, mind--but I might let you have the part that was written foryou and put the thing on. Has he drilled you any, eh? He was the beststage-manager we ever had before he got the notion of managing forhimself--and ruining himself."
"Well, he's all that yet. Of course, he has told me, and we agreed howthe thing should be done. As he'd write, you know, he'd read the thingover to me, and I--"
"Fine--fine! A reading from that fool Obermuller would be enough toopen the eyes of a clever woman. I'd like to read that comedy--yes?"
"But Obermuller would never--"
"But Olden might--"
"What?"
"Dictate the plot to my secretary, Mason, in there," he nodded his headback toward the inner room. "She could give him the plot and as muchof her own part in full as she could remember. You know Mason. Used tobe a newspaper man. Smart fellow, that, when he's sober. He couldpiece out the holes--yes?"
I looked at him. The little beast sat there, slowly closing one eyeand opening it again. He looked like an unhealthy little frog, withhis bald head, his thin-lipped mouth that laughed, while the wrinklesrayed away from his cold, sneering eyes that had no smile in them.
"I--I wouldn't like to make an enemy of a man like Obermuller, Mr.Tausig."
"Bah! Ain't I told you he's on the toboggan?"
"But you never can tell with a man like that. Suppose he got into thatcombine with Heffelfinger and Dixon and Weinstock?"
"What're you talking about?"
"Well, it's what I've heard."
"But Heffelfinger and Dixon and Weinstock are all in with us; who toldyou that fairy story?"
"Obermuller himself."
The little fellow laughed. His is a creaky, almost silent littlelaugh; if a spider could laugh he'd laugh that way.
"They're fooling him a bunch or two. Never you mind Obermuller. He's adead one."
"Oh, he said that you thought they were in with you, but that nothingbut a written agreement would hold men like that. And that you hadn'tgot."
"Smart fellow, that Obermuller. He'd have been a good man to have inthe business if it hadn't been for those independent ideas he's got.He's right; it takes--"
"So there is an agreement!" I shouted, in spite of myself, as I leanedforward.
He sat back in his chair, or, rather, he let it swallow him again.
"What business is that of yours? Stick to the business on hand. Get towork on that play with Mason inside. If it's good, and we decide toput it on, we'll pay you five hundred dollars down in addition to yoursalary. If it's rot, you'll have your salary weekly all the timeyou're at it, just the same as if you were working, till I can placeyou. In the meantime, keep your ears and eyes open and watch things,and your mouth shut. I'll speak to Mason and he'll be ready for youto-morrow morning. Come round in the morning; there's nobody aboutthen, and we want to keep this thing dark till it's done. Obermullermustn't get any idea what we're up to.... He don't love you--no--forshaking him?"
"He's furious; wouldn't even say good-by. I'm done for with him,anyway, I guess. But what could I do?"
"Nothing, my dear; nothing. You're a smart little girl," he chuckled."Ta-ta!"