The curtain went up, and the whole company appeared. It rose and rose again, at last to display only the principals, down to the final two who had closed the play. But that was not enough.
They could hear Dr. Agnew’s heavy voice growling somewhere out in the darkness of the auditorium:
“Author! Author! Bring her out!”
The boys took up the demand. They even called on Jess Morse by name, and hitched that name to the battle cry of their athletic field.
“You’ve got to go!” cried Laura, giving her chum a push. “You’ve got to, Jess!”
And so Jess Morse stepped forward, modestly, bashfully, and faced the great audience. Tears half blinded her, but she bowed as she had been taught. And all the time she tasted the first intoxicating draught of Fame!
But that was not quite the end of it all. Mr. Monterey, of the Centerport Opera House, was in a seat down in front that evening. He never was seen to applaud once; but on Saturday evening, when the play was repeated for the general public to attend, he came again and this time brought a stranger who paid quite as close attention to Jess’s play as did Mr. Monterey himself.
After the performance and before Jess and Laura started for home with their escorts, they heard that the stranger with the local manager was a very famous New York producer. He had come especially to see “The Spring Road.”
And when Jess arrived home she found the gentleman, with Mr. Monterey, conferring with her mother in their little sitting room.
“I assure you,” said Mrs. Morse, proudly, “the play is practically Josephine’s own work. It is her idea, clothed in her own language. I am pleased that you find it so admirable for a child to have written——”