CHAPTER V

  REPLACED

  For a few moments the two girls said nothing. They simply stoodthere, looking at their father, who was bowed with grief. It wassomething new for him--a strange role, for usually he was so jollyand happy--going about reciting odd snatches from the plays in whichhe had taken part.

  "Does--does it hurt you, Daddy?" asked Ruth softly, as she steppedcloser to him, and put her hand on his shoulder.

  He raised himself with an effort, and seemed to shake off the gloomthat held him prisoner.

  "No--no," he answered in queer, croaking tones, so different from hisusual deep and vibrant ones. "That's the odd part of it. I have noreal pain. It isn't sore at all--just a sort of numbness."

  "Did it come on suddenly?" asked Alice.

  "Well, it did yesterday--very suddenly. But this time I was hoarsewhen I started to rehearse and it kept getting worse until I couldn'tbe heard ten feet away. Of course it was no use to go on then, so thestage manager called me off."

  "Then he'll wait until you're better?" asked Alice.

  Her father shrugged his shoulders.

  "He'll wait until to-morrow, at any rate," was the hesitating answer.

  "Didn't going to the doctor's office help any?" asked Ruth.

  "For a few minutes--yes. But as soon as I got to the theater I was asbad as ever. I had some of his spray with me, too, but it did littlegood. I think I must see him again. I'll go to his office now."

  "No, he must come here!" insisted Ruth. "You shouldn't take anychances going out in the air, Father, even though it is a warm springday. Let him come here. I'll go telephone."

  She was out into the hall before he could remonstrate, had he had theenergy to do it. But Mr. DeVere seemed incapable of thinking forhimself, now that this trouble had come upon him.

  Dr. Rathby came a little later. He had a cheery, confident air thatwas good for the mind, if not for the body.

  "Well, how goes it?" he asked.

  "Not--very well," was Mr. DeVere's hoarse reply.

  "I'm afraid you'll have to do as I suggested and take a completerest," went on the doctor. "That's the only thing for these cases.I'll take another look at you."

  The examination of the throat was soon over.

  "Hum!" mused the physician. "Well, Mr. DeVere, I can tell you onething. If you keep on talking and rehearsing, you won't have anyvoice at all by the end of the week."

  "Oh!" cried the girls, together.

  "Now, don't be frightened," went on the doctor quickly, seeing theiralarm. "This may not be at all serious. There is a good chance of Mr.DeVere getting his voice back; but I confess I see little hope of itat the present time. At any rate he must give himself absolute rest,and not use his voice--even to talk to you girls," and he smiled atthem.

  "I know that is going to be hard," the doctor went on; "but it mustbe done sir, it must be done."

  "Impossible!" murmured Mr. DeVere. "It cannot be!"

  "It must be, my dear sir. Your vocal chords are in such shape thatthe least additional strain may permanently injure them. As it isnow--you have a chance."

  "Only a chance did you say?" asked the actor, eagerly.

  "Yes, only a chance. It would be cruel to deceive you, and try totell you that this is only temporary, and will pass off. It may, butit is sure to come back again, unless you give your throat anabsolute rest."

  "For--for how long?"

  "I can't say--six months--maybe a year--maybe----"

  "A year! Why, Doctor, I never could do that."

  "You may have to. You can speak now, but if you keep on you will getto the point where you will be next to absolutely dumb!"

  The girls caught their breaths in sharp gasps. Even Mr. DeVere seemedunnerved.

  "It may seem harsh to say this to you," went on Dr. Rathby, "but itis the kindest in the end. Rest is what you need."

  "Then I can't go to rehearsal in the morning?"

  "Certainly not. I must forbid it as your physician. Can't you get afew days off?"

  Mr. DeVere shook his head.

  "Aren't there such things as understudies? Seems to me I have heardof them," persisted the physician.

  "I--I wouldn't like to have to put one on," said the actor.

  His daughters knew the reason. Times were but little better than theyhad been in the theatrical business. Many good men and women, too,were out of engagements, and every available part was quickly snappedup. Mr. DeVere had waited long enough for this opening, and now tohave to put on an understudy when the play was on the eve of opening,might mean the loss of his chances. Theatrical managers wereuncertain at best, and an actor in an important part, with a voicethat would not carry beyond the first few rows, was out of thequestion.

  Mr. DeVere knew this as well as did his daughters.

  "I'll tell you what I'll do," went on Dr. Rathby. "I'll speak to yourmanager myself. I'll explain how things are, and say it is imperativethat you have one or two days of rest. It may be that your chordswill clear up enough in that time so that I can treat them better andyou can resume your duties."

  "Will you do that?" cried the actor, eagerly. "It will be awfullygood of you. Just say to Mr. Gans Cross--he's the manager of the NewColumbia theater--that I will be back in two days--less, if you willallow me, Doctor."

  The physician shook his head.

  "It must be at least two days," he said, and he went off totelephone, promising to come back as soon as he could.

  He did return, later in the evening, with a new remedy of which hesaid he had heard from a fellow doctor.

  "What did Mr. Cross say?" Mr. DeVere asked eagerly.

  "I have good news for you. He agreed to use an understudy for twodays. He said you were letter-perfect in the part, anyway, and it wasthe others who really needed the rehearsing. So now we have two fulldays in which to do our best. And in that time I want you to talk thedeaf and dumb language," laughed Dr. Rathby.

  Mr. DeVere eagerly promised.

  Then began a two-days' warfare against the throat ailment. Ruth andAlice were untiring in attendance on their father. They saw to itthat he used the medicine faithfully, and they even got pads andpencils that he might write messages to them instead of speaking.

  On his part the actor was faithful. He did not use his voice at all,and on the second day Dr. Rathby said there was some improvement. Hewas not very enthusiastic, however, and when Mr. DeVere asked if hecould attend rehearsals next day the doctor said:

  "Well, it's a risk, but I know how you feel about it. You may try it;but, frankly, I am fearful of the outcome."

  "I--I've got to try," whispered Mr. DeVere.

  He went to the rehearsal, and the worst fears of the physician wererealized. After the first act Mr. DeVere was hoarser than everbefore. The other players could not hear him to get their "cues," orsignals when to reply, and come on the stage. The rehearsal had to bestopped. There was a hasty conference between the manager of thecompany and the treasurer of the same.

  "The play will have to open on time," said the manager.

  "Yes, we've had a big advance sale," replied the treasurer.

  "And DeVere can't do it."

  "No. I'll have to put his understudy in until we can cast someoneelse. I'll tell him."

  The actor must have guessed what was coming, for he was washing offhis make-up in the dressing-room when the manager entered.

  "I'm awfully sorry about this, DeVere," began Mr. Cross. "But I'mafraid you won't be able to go on Monday night."

  "No, Mr. Cross, I myself am of the same opinion. My voice has failedme utterly."

  "And yet--and yet--you understand how it is. We must open on time."

  "Yes, I know. The show must go on--the show must go on."'

  "And the only way----"

  "Is to replace me. I know. You can't help it, Mr. Cross. I know justhow it is. It isn't your fault--it's my misfortune. I thank you foryour patience. You'll have to--to replace me. It's the only thing todo. And yet," he added so softly that the m
anager did not hear "whatam I to do? What are my daughters to do?"