A SHORT STORY.

Thames Star, Volume LVII, Issue 14783, 13 October 1921, Page 7

A SHORT STORY.

(By Lloyd Osbourne.)

THE MAN WHO. /

(Continued,.) V Nothing was too much trouble for Horton, who jumped out with alacrity grinning at his brother journalists, whose arriving taxis were lining their, rear. Beddy sank deeper in the luxury of his seat and/lit a cigarette. You had to be' a celebrity to appreciate such lulls as these. But his repose waS only momentary. Two camera-men ran lip begging for a close-up or his feet.. They said they did not wish to trouble him—they were the politest young men imaginable—but would he not oblige them by putting his legs over the side of the car? It would only take a moment, and they would be so much obliged, i Beddy obliged, while the moving-picture people, whose automobile bore a gilt' inscription, “All the news of the World in Pictures,” reeled off photographs of the photographers. The inevitable crowd rose out of . nowhere, and once again Beddy was the centre of. a surging sea. ,\

Horton returned, elbowing his • way through the crowd. “I went a little beyond your order,” he said, taking his place beside Beddy. “You would hardly believe it, but the. fellow up there already knew all about you—that’s how news travels in this burg—and when I planked down the ten bucks he burst out laughing. Then; he said I had better put in an order for ten thousand as, a starter, and it ended by my,promising you would send him a hundred dollars on account. Is it alt right?” • | Beddy answered that it was all right and his face showed his satisfacton. Yesterday not a newspaper would have printed his name unless he got married —or died. Now in only a few hours the press-clipping ll bureau had put him in the ten-thousand class, and All the News of the World in Pictures was running after him like a pet dog. He was a Man Who, and nobody could deny it. As his exhilaration mounted he suddenly realised he was famishing. Let tho hank wait! Lunch—that was what he needed. Hje mentioned the name of an. excellent little grill to Horton. Horton was shocked.

“I was endowing you with, a genius for publicity,”, he cried out, “and -hero you want to take me to a little hole and Corner jqint like that I No; the right place /to go is the WatteauVictoria at the head of your cohorts and unloose as much pandemonium as possible in their gilded halls. You are out to startle New York, aren’t you? Well, let’s hit them in the high spots and hit them hard.” 1

Shivers ran; down Beddy’s spine as Horton gave the order to the chauffeur. “Watteau-Victoria,” he said. “Main entrance on Forty-second Stxpet.” It was an 'admirable choice—from the point of view of unloosing pandemonium. They flooded into the spacious lobby like a Red Army invading the home of all the Czars. Pale clerks, stupefied with horror, gazed at the barefooted intruder who led tho way so jauntily. Then bells began to ring; bell-boys •'scurried; like an invaded, hive the great hotel hummed with an ominous note.

, A foreign lady, very bejewelled and in the shortest skirt ever . beheld, screamed out, “Z& revolution!” Commotion ! Uproar! Guests flattened themselves against walls; camera men leaped on chairs like goats; the Red Army advancing down, the famous Alley toward the dining room. But ha! Devoted Cossacks block the way—two' house detectives, several husky porters in blue-flannel shirts and a stalwart engineer from the dynamo room swinging a monkey wrench. There was no parley- The technic of the Watteau-Victoria* was evidently to throw itself on an undesirable and rush him subterraneanward, with the minimum of noise and the maximum of kicks. At that palpitating instant, as Beddy gave himself up for lost, but with a determination to fight to his last breath, All the News of the World in Pictures bounded on an onyx table while confederates instantaneously unfurled two immense white sheet® by way of reflectors. The defense was paralysed. The sheets were even more daunting than the clicking camera. There was no real command in the chief detective’s voice as he ordered Beddy to “get to hell out of herel” His half-whispered request to one of the porters showed his desperation. “Quick 1 Get Mr. Bratzi!” he exclaimed. His discomforture was Complete when (Hortoin remarked in ibis high, thin, incisive voice: "‘The Morning Clarion, whch I represent, is interested to see how this hotel treats friendless ex-service men.” Mr Bratzi appeared at this juncture ; a sallow, imperious man, with snapping black eyes, who gave the impression of a volcanic nature under iron restraint. As a photographer shouted to him, ‘‘Please hold thait pose, mister,’ he visibly gritted his teeth. Addressing Beddy, after looking him up and down with extreme disdain, he said in accents that would have cut corundum, “Will you kindly inform me what you are doing here?” “Oh, just lunching with my friend Mr. Meiklejohn, of the Morning Clarion,” returned Beddy. ' “And do you consider that a suitable

Mr. Bratzi, indicating Beddy’s feet with a dramatic finger. “There are ladies here, sir, and it cannot be permitted.”

“I don’t see why the ladies should mind,” retorted Beddy. “The fact is I am conducting a campaign to reduce the price of Bhoes by doing without them. Perhaps I might have the privilege of enrolling you as a member cf m.v association?” Mr. Bratzi gasped. “It is nothing to me whether you wear shoes or not,” he said. One tlvng only I know, and that is no shoeless individual may enter my dining room.** “This one is going to enter it!” exclaimed Beddy with battling eyes. As he spoke he took a step forward. “Moreover, every table is engaged” protested Mr. Bratzi, evidently abandoning the front-line trenches to win by strategy. He glanced ‘meaningly at a subordinate, who hurried away. “I am afraid I can’t take your word for that,” said Beddy, pushing past him. “Come along, Horton, let’s get there before they can close the doors.”

Th pair 'almost ran while cameras clicked and reporters ,trotted after. But the doors had not been closed. On the contrary they were wide open, disclosing dozens of empty tables which waiters were frantically dotting with cards marked “Reserved.” Beddy and Horton burst out laughing at these attempts to forestall them. The lunchers, of whom there were at least a hundred laughed too, and uproariously, as they saw the barefooted man racing to secure a table that was as yet unmarked. The general hilarity increased when waiters appeared wth screens and segregated Beddy and Horton in a room of their own.

Here luncheon was served to them without further trouble, except for people who mounted chairs outside the inclosure to stare down at such mysterious and secluded strangers. Beddy, amid much merriment, was kept busy explaining his campaign to these broadly smiling faces, whch were constantly renewed. In all its history that dining room had never been tho scene of such \indccoTum. The scraping of chairs was incessant. Once the wabbly walls fell down and had /to be restored by smiling waiters. was friendly and interested.

But it was not wise to linger in this Capua. Horton, wth his diabolical inventiveness, suggested that they move over to the Metz for coffee and cause a fresh disturbance in that ultra-aristo-cratic hotel. A sensation should never be allowed to slump, said Horton. Once let it get. cold and—poof, it was gone! Beddy acquiesced, though with sinking heart. He was weary of riots; weary of partol wagons and inflamed human countenances; weary of jams and jeers and rough hands on his coat collar. Bu* to endure them ' was the price of a Man Who ; and so up he. got., with a semblance of determination. But as their string of taxis reached the imposing entrance to the Metz, and as the Red army descended and massed behind their barefooted leader, Beddy was astounded at the lack of attention he—and they-toxcited. The door men. and starters never turned a hair, no one gave them a second look, and inside the great lobby, considerably filled at that hour, there was no such commotion as had attended the ; r invasion, of tho Watteau-Victoria. A few languid fashion plates gazed at Beddy’s feet, with supercilious surprise; a few lorgnettes -were raised; a child pointed, and was suppressed—and that was all! .Oh, no, not all! What was that big transparency above the long desk? Horton clutched at Beddy’s arm, and the pair gazed at it transfixed:

GUESTS AND STAFF WILL KINDLY TREAT THE SHOELESS SENSATION MONGER WITH THE SILENT CONTEMPT HE DESERVES. “Bratzi has tipped them off,” whispered the journalist. ‘Everybody has been primed to ignore you. If you let them get away with this you will fizzle!” ■ Poor Beddy felt that he was already fizzling. He knew how silly and ignominious he must appear with no outraged management to sustain him. How could he roar for his rights as a citizen when they were thus freely accorded—with silent contempt? He had flourished on fury and scandal; without them he was merely a hotly flushing young man with dirty hare feet. The Red Army, with obviously shaken confidence, followed him to the vast dining room. Oh, that his way might have been barred—hut it wasn’t! A waiter took his order without the wiggle of an eyelash. It was heart-rending.

Sipping his black coffee, Beddy took counsel 'with Horton. Horton, felt the gravity of the situation, and his confidence, too, was ebbing. The depressed Bed Army yawned in the doorway. All the News of the World in Pictures, sunk in gloom, were eating ices at an adjoining table. > “You can’t sit here like this” whispered Horton. “You’ll have to start something—or die. Why not go the round of. the tables, making a little speech at every one and playing the ex-service man stuff? It’s your only chance in the world. Hop, boy, hop!” (To be Continiied.)