Writing for Vaudeville Part 64

FALLON: And, you told Tom?

MRS. HOWARD: (Lowering her face.)

FALLON: Helen!

MRS. HOWARP: I know, but I was afraid. I loved him so, and I was afraid.

FALLON: But Tom would have understood. Why, you thought you were married.

MRS. HOWARD: I was afraid. I loved him too much. I was too happy, and I was afraid I'd lose him. (FALLON shakes his head.) But, we were leaving San Francisco forever--to live in the East--where I thought no one knew me.

FALLON: Well?

MRS. HOWARD: Well, one man knew me. Mohun, the man who played the magistrate. He came East, too. Three years ago he saw me one night with Tom in a theatre. He followed us and found out where I lived. The next morning he came to see me, and threatened to tell! And, I was terrified, I lost my head and gave him money.

(Slowly.) And I have been giving him money ever since.

FALLON: Helen! You! Fall for blackmail? Why, that isn't you.

You're no coward! You should have told the swine to go to h.e.l.l, and as soon as Tom came home, you should have told him the whole story.

MRS. HOWARD: (Fiercely.) My story, yes! But not a story Mohun threatens to tell! In a week he had it all backed up with letters, telegrams, G.o.d knows what he didn't make me out to be--a vile, degraded creature.

FALLON: And who'd have believed it?

MRS. HOWARD: Everybody! He proved it! And my children. He threatened to stop my children on the way to school and explain to them what kind of a woman their mother was. So, I paid and paid and paid.

I robbed Tom, I robbed the children. I cheated them of food, and clothes, I've seen Tom look almost ashamed of us. And when I'd taken all I'd dared from Tom, I pretended I wanted to be more independent, and I learned typewriting, and needlework and decorating, and I worked at night, and when Tom was at the office--to earn money--to give to Mohun. And each time he said it was the last, and each time he came back demanding more. G.o.d knows what he does with it, he throws it away--on drink, on women, opium.

FALLON: Dope fiend, too, hey?

MRS. HOWARD: He's that, too; he's everything that's vile; inhuman, pitiless, degenerate. Sometimes, I wonder why G.o.d lets him live.

(Her voice drops to a whisper.) Sometimes, I almost pray to G.o.d to let him die. (FALLON who already has determined to kill MOHUN, receives this speech with indifference, and continues grimly to puff on his cigar.) He's killed my happiness, he's killing me.

In keeping him alive, I've grown ill and old. I see the children growing away from me, I see Tom drawing away from me. And now, after all my struggles, after all my torture, Tom must be told.

Mohun is in some _new_ trouble. He must have a thousand dollars!

I can no more give him a thousand dollars than I can give him New York City. But, if I don't, he'll _tell!_ _What_ am I to do?

FALLON: (Unmoved.) When did you see this--this _thing_ last?

MRS. HOWARD: This morning. He'd read about you in the papers.

He knows I knew you in San Francisco. He said you'd "struck it rich," and that you'd give me the money. (Rises, and comes to him.) But, get this straight, d.i.c.k. I didn't come here for money. I don't want money. I won't take money. I came to you because you are my best friend, and Tom's best friend, and because I need a _man's brain_, a man's advice.

FALLON: (Contemptuously.) Advice! h.e.l.l! Am I the sort of man that gives girls--_advice?_ (With rough tenderness.) Now, you go home to Tom, and tell him I'm coming to dinner. (Impressively.) And leave this _leech_ to me. And, _don't_ worry. This thing never happened, it's just a bad dream, a nightmare. Just throw it from your shoulders like a miner drops his pack. It's never coming back into your life again.

MRS. HOWARD: (Earnestly.) No! I won't _let_ you pay that man! He'd hound you, as he's hounded me!

FALLON: (Indignantly.) Pay him? Me? I haven't got enough _money_ to pay him!

MRS. HOWARD: What!

FALLON: _No man_ on earth has money enough to pay blackmail.

Helen, this is what I think of a blackmailer: The _lowest_ thing that crawls, is a man that sends a woman into the streets to earn money for him. Here, in New York, you call them "cadets." Now, there's only one thing on earth lower than a cadet, and that's the blackmailer, the man who gets money from a woman--by threatening her good name--who uses her past as a _club_--who drags out some unhappy act of hers for which she's repented, in tears, on her knees, which the world has forgotten, which G.o.d has forgiven.

And, for that _past_ sin, that's forgotten and forgiven, this blackguard crucifies her. And the woman--to protect her husband and her children, as you have done--to protect her own good name, that she's worked for and won, starves herself to feed that _leech_.

And, you ask me, if _I'm_ going to feed him, too! Not me! Helen, down in lower California, there are black bats, the Mexican calls "Vampire" bats. They come at night and fasten on the sides of the horses and drink their blood. And, in the morning when you come to saddle up, you'll find the horses too weak to walk, and hanging to their flanks these vampires, swollen and bloated and drunk with blood. Now, I've just as much sympathy for Mr. Mohun, as I have for those vampires, and, I'm going to treat him just as I treat them! Where is he?

MRS. HOWARD: Downstairs. In the cafe.

FALLON: Here, in this hotel?

MRS. HOWARD: Yes.

FALLON: (Half to himself.) Good!

MRS. HOWARD: He said he'd wait until I telephoned him that you would pay. If you won't, he's going straight to Tom.

FALLON: He is, is he? Helen, I hate to have you speak to him again, but, unless he hears your voice, he won't come upstairs.

(Motions towards telephone.) Tell him I'll see him in ten minutes.

Tell him I've agreed to make it all right.

MRS. HOWARD: But, _how_, d.i.c.k, _how_?

FALLON: Don't you worry about that. I'm going to send him away.

Out of the country. He won't trouble you any more.

MRS. HOWARD: But he won't _go_. He's promised _me_ to go many times--

FALLON: Yes, but he's not dealing with a woman, now, he's dealing with a man, with boots on. Do as I tell you.

(MRS. HOWARD sits at writing desk and takes receiver off telephone.

FALLON leans against table right, puffing quickly on his cigar, and glancing impatiently at the valise that holds his revolver.)

MRS. HOWARD: Give me the cafe, please. Is this the cafe? I want to speak to a Mr. Mohun, he is waiting to be called up--oh, thank you. (To FALLON.) He's coming. (To 'phone.) I have seen that man and he says he'll take up that debt, and pay it. Yes, now, at _once_. You're to wait for ten minutes, until he can get the money, and then, he'll telephone you to come up. I don't know, I'll ask. (To Fallon.) He says it must be in _cash_.

FALLON: (Sarcastically.) Why, certainly! That'll be all right.

(MRS. HOWARD Places her hand over the mouth piece.)

MRS. HOWARD: I'll not _let_ you pay him!

FALLON: I'm not going to! I'm going to _give_ him just what's coming to him. Tell him, it'll be all right.

MRS. HOWARD: (To 'phone.) He says to tell you, it'll be all right.

The room is 210 on the third floor. In ten minutes, yes. (She rises.)

FALLON: Now, then, you go back to Tom and get dinner ready. Don't forget I'm coming to _dinner_. And the children must come to dinner, _too_. We'll have a happy, good old-time reunion.

MRS. HOWARD: (With hand on door k.n.o.b of door left.) d.i.c.k, how can I thank you?

FALLON: Don't let me catch you trying.

MRS. HOWARD: G.o.d bless you, d.i.c.k. (With a sudden hope.) And you really believe you can make him _go_?