“It’s a pity to think that all this work may go to waste,” he said bitterly, coming on to their outdoor stage.
There was a stunned silence. Peggy didn’t know what to think—was this Richard’s way of kidding? Chuck got up to give Aunt Hetty a seat, and plunking herself down heavily, she stated matter-of-factly, “You’re all so good—so much better than I expected—I’ll hate to see you go!”
The cast looked blank. Chuck was struck dumb for a moment, and then he suddenly exploded. “What are you talking about? We’re having a rehearsal here and this is not the time for idiotic jokes!” He looked at Aunt Hetty and controlled himself. “Excuse me, but really, Richard knows better than to interrupt us like this.”
“It’s no joke, young man,” Aunt Hetty said bluntly. “Richard, tell them all about it.” She peered closely at Chuck. “And you ought to know better, Mr. Crosby, than to think we’d intrude for anything less than a very good reason!”
“My!” Peggy thought. “It certainly isn’t wise to cross Aunt Hetty. She’s a stubborn old girl. No wonder she got all that backing from the Chamber of Commerce—they could hardly say no.”
“I imagine you haven’t seen this,” Richard said, holding up a newspaper so the cast could see the front page.
The Kenabeek Gazette, Peggy read on the masthead, and right underneath was a headline: Theater In School Illegal.
“I hate to bring you bad news,” Richard said as the cast gathered around, “but the man who was responsible for this may be right.”
Peggy looked at the bottom of the column and saw that it was signed “Ford Birmingham.”
“No, that’s just the man who wrote it,” Richard said, noticing Peggy’s glance. “Ford Birmingham covers art, music, theater, and local features for the paper—he’s supposed to write our reviews, too. But the man behind this article is either Max Slade or his brother William—or both. The Slade brothers run the local movie house and they’ve opposed this theater from the beginning, thinking it will affect their business—”