_Chapter XIII_ JANET STEPS IN
Ed Rickey was the first to reach Margie. With desperate hands he toreaway the pile of canvas, splintered wood and snarl of rope. Jim Barron,who had rushed from the dressing room with his makeup only half on,helped Ed lift Margie to a nearby bench.
Then Miss Williams took charge. Margie was breathing regularly, but hereyes were closed. There was a nasty bump over her forehead and her dresslooked like it might have been run over by a ten-ton truck, for a mass ofdust and grime had come down with the drop.
The boy who had been in the scene loft scrambled down.
"The pulleys let go!" he cried. "Honestly, Miss Williams, I couldn't helpit."
"Of course not, and I don't think Margie is badly hurt. She'll comearound in a minute or two."
Someone brought a glass of water and Miss Williams raised Margie's headand forced some water between her lips.
After a time Margie opened her eyes.
"Where was the storm?" she mumbled. Then, recognizing the anxious facesof the members of the cast about her, struggled to sit up.
"What hit me?" she demanded thickly.
"The pulleys gave way and a drop came down," explained Ed.
Margie tried to stand up, but sat down abruptly.
"My head," she moaned. "It feels ten sizes too large."
"Carry her downstairs," Miss Williams said to Ed and Jim. While the boyswere obeying instructions, Miss Williams went to a telephone and summoneda doctor.
It was 7:15 o'clock then and the curtain was set for eight. In justforty-five minutes the show must go on and Margie had a splittingheadache and her costume was ruined at least for the night.
When Doctor Bates, the school physician arrived, it was 7:30 o'clock andMargie, stretched out on a couch in the girls' dressing room, was holdingcold cloths on her head.
Doctor Bates' examination was quick but thorough.
"Mild concussion, I'd say. She must go to bed at once and remain there,perfectly quiet, for at least twenty-four hours."
Margie struggled to her feet and was as promptly returned to the couch bythe doctor, who forced her to choke back her words.
"Sure, I understand," he said. "You've got a part in the play and you'vegot to go on. That's the tradition of the theater. But this isn't atheater. This is a high school play and young lady you're not going torisk serious injury to yourself by doing any such thing as attempting toappear in this play. I'm going to take you home right now."
Doctor Bates, who usually had his way, helped Margie out to his car. Itwas a tearful and protesting Margie, but Miss Williams joined ininsisting that she go home and there was nothing else for her to do.
By the time Margie was on her way home the first rows of the gym werefilling with spectators and Miss Williams, a look of desperate intentupon her face, called the cast together on the stage.
"We've got to go on for this means so much to me and to you. Try andforget, if you can, what has happened to Margie. Do everything you can tohelp the girl I'm going to push into Margie's role. If she stumbles onher lines or forgets them, fake until you can pick it up again."
Then she swung toward Janet.
"Can you get anything from home you can wear for the first act--somethingvery light and pretty. You'll be able to wear the costumes intended forMargie in the other two acts."
"You mean you want me to step in and take Margie's role?" asked Janet.
"That's exactly what I mean. You've got to do it. You're the only one whoknows the lines."
"But I'm afraid I'll make a terrible mess of things; I'll spoil the wholeshow."
"You can't, Janet, you can't." There was desperate entreaty in MissWilliams' words. "I've heard you repeating Margie's lines to yourself atrehearsal. You know them all and you know the action. Just imagine thatyou were originally picked for the role. You can handle it, I know."
"Come on, Janet. This is our chance. We'll be playing together tonight. Ineed you to steady me." It was Helen speaking, saying she needed Janet tosteady her.
Janet smiled to herself. She would be the one who would need bolstering.
Miss Williams came up.
"I've found one of the boys with a car. He'll take you home and bring youback with a costume for the first act. I don't want to hold the curtainunless absolutely necessary."
"I'll make it," promised Janet.
There was no one at home and she rushed upstairs and dove into the largewardrobe in her room. She had been wondering all the way home what toselect. Probably that pale green silk print. She'd only worn it once ortwice, and never to anything at school.
Janet seized the dress, slipped out of the smock and everyday dress shehad worn under that, and wiggled into the cool, crisp silk. Stockings andshoes were changed in a flash. Pausing just a moment before her mirror,she brushed her hair vigorously until the light caught all of its naturalgolden glints. Then she ran down stairs, breathless from the rush.
It was two minutes to eight, just two minutes before the curtain wasscheduled to go up, when Janet reached the stage. Miss Williams waspacing nervously when she hurried on, but she stopped instantly and eyedJanet approvingly.
"Splendid, dear, splendid. We'll start on time. If you forget some of thelines, just make up a few sentences until you can recall them. The restof the cast will help you carry along."
Helen, dark and radiant, came out of the wings.
"You need a little more color on your cheeks. You look as pale as aghost."
"I feel pretty much like a ghost," confessed Janet as they slipped into adressing room where Helen adeptly applied a touch of rouge, used aneyebrow pencil sparingly, and then finished the makeup with just enoughlipstick to accentuate the charm of Janet's lips.
"Everybody ready?" It was Miss Williams, calling the cast together for afinal checkup.
Fortunately Janet would not go on until the middle of the first act. Itwould give her an opportunity to regain her full composure, to get intothe swing of the play, and to brush up on any lines she was afraid shemight forget.
The music of the high school orchestra, which was playing in the pit outfront, reached a crescendo and died away. Janet faintly heard a wave ofapplause for the efforts of the orchestra. Then the girl who had takenher place at the switchboard dimmed the house lights, shoved the switchthat sent the electricity surging into the footlights, and the curtainstarted up.
There was that little breathless pause before the action of the playbegan. Then Helen, the first character on the stage, started her lines.Clearly, confidently, she spoke, and Janet's fears for the play, fearsfor any mistakes of her own, melted away. Helen was going magnificently,perfectly at ease and seemingly living the very role of Gale Naughton.
Janet slipped into the mood of the play. It wasn't hard for she hadattended every rehearsal and knew the lines of almost every character.
On the other side of the stage Miss Williams, the prompt book in herhands, was obviously pleased.
Then came a cue that awoke Janet from the pleasant glow. She was on next.With hands that fluttered just a little she picked up a mirror on thetiny dressing table in the wings and made sure that her hair was right.
It was time for her to go on, a rollicking, bouncing sort of entrancethat one would expect from gay, light-hearted Abbie Naughton, and Janetdid it perfectly.
The blaze of light from the footlights shielded her from the audience.She didn't need to care what they were thinking. All she needed to do wasto go through her part, playing it to the utmost. Later she would knowwhat the audience thought, but then it would be too late to matter.
Janet and Helen had a fast exchange of lines, Helen reproving Janet forher gayety when the family funds were so low. They carried that hard bitof repartee off successfully and when the conversation swung to anothercharacter, Helen whispered under her breath.
"You're grand, simply grand. Keep it up."
"Double the compliment for yourself," replied Janet, her l
ips barelymoving yet the words were audible to Helen.
The first act was over suddenly. The curtain came down, smoothly,silently, and as it bumped the floor a gathering wave of applause echoedthroughout the gym. Miss Williams nodded and the curtain went up again,the members of the cast smiling and bowing.
Then came the rush for the second act. The stage must be reset and thegirls, especially, had to put on new costumes. Miss Williams stoppedJanet in the wings.
"Margie's costumes for the last two acts are laid out in the dressingroom. I'm sure they'll fit." Then she laughed. "They'll have to, Janet.We can't stop for a costume, can we?"
"Not after the first act," replied Janet.
But Margie's costumes did fit. It was as though they had been made forJanet.
The action of the play moved more rapidly, swirling closer and closeraround the Chinese image on its pedestal in the garden.
Finally came the third act with Janet, clumsy, jubilant Janet,accidentally knocking over the image, which burst open when it struck thestage floor and there, inside the figure of clay, was the secret of theimage and the continued comfort of the Naughtons--a ruby, so perfect, sobeautiful, that it was worth an exceedingly large fortune.
Before Janet knew it the curtain came down for the final time and on itsecho came a sustained wave of applause. First the cast, then MissWilliams, and then the cast, answered the steady calls for theirappearance. When Janet and Helen, coming out hand in hand, took a bow,the applause reached a new peak and then died away as the audience,satisfied as having paid tribute to the two stars of the show, preparedto leave the spacious gymnasium.
There was the usual crowd on the stage, parents and friends rushing up tocongratulate members of the cast and over in one corner Janet saw MissWilliams signing her name to a paper that looked very much like acontract. Without doubt the dramatics instructor had earned her contractwith the producing company.
"I'm tired," announced Helen, in a very matter-of-fact manner.
"I suppose I am, too, but I'm still far too excited to realize it,"replied Janet. "Here come the folks."
Her father and mother, closely followed by Helen's parents, were pushingtheir way through the crowd.
"I'm mighty proud of you two," said John Hardy as he gave each of them ahug.
"I'm more than that," chuckled Helen's father. "I'm tempted to sign themto contracts and take them back to Hollywood with me."