1 [The Arrival] 1 2 [A Serious Complication] 15 3 [A Broadcast] 27 4 [A Favorable Decision] 41 5 [Opening Night] 48 6 [Chance Encounter] 58 7 [Unfair Play] 74 8 [An Explanation] 85 9 [A Lifeline] 96 10 [Friends—New and Old] 108 11 [Quick Thinking] 121 12 [Varied Explosions] 131 13 [Double Trouble] 143 14 [Ups and Downs] 156 15 [Summer Stock] 168
PEGGY GOES STRAW HAT
I
The Arrival
Eight hours after leaving New York City, the rickety old Pathways Bus lurched to a bouncing halt in a small Adirondack mountain town. Peggy Lane rose from her seat and somewhat shakily managed to collect her handbag, a small suitcase, a hatbox, two coats, and her precious tin make-up kit.
“I wonder if I really look like an actress or more like a walking luggage rack?” she thought excitedly as she stepped down from the bus. The scene that greeted her was breath-taking; Peggy gasped aloud with delight. Before her, Lake Kenabeek lay gleaming like a jewel in the afternoon sun. Pine trees rose everywhere and although it was summer there was a delicious nip and tang in the air. Peggy’s heart raced with eagerness and the familiar nervous anticipation she always felt when approaching something new. She had been hired as resident ingénue for eight wonderful weeks with her first summer stock company. Each week she would be playing a different part, gaining invaluable experience, and learning new phases of life backstage.
“And I got the job all on my own!” Peggy thought exultantly. “Just by reading for the producers! That must mean something—at least, it means that I’m really a professional actress now and don’t have to depend on friends and ‘contacts’ for my work!” She smiled happily, taking a deep breath of the fragrant, pine-scented air.
“Miss Lane?” A voice interrupted Peggy’s thoughts. She turned and saw a spectacled, studious-looking boy about seventeen who was wearing dungarees and a paint-smeared shirt. Offering her a slightly stained hand, he grinned shyly. “Scene paint,” he explained, “but it’s clean.”
Peggy could hardly shake his hand, laden down as she was, and the boy stammered with embarrassment. “Oh, I’m so sorry—I was so busy looking at you, I didn’t notice.” He relieved her of some of her bags, giving her a frankly admiring stare. “You sure look like a good ingénue!”
“I do?” Peggy beamed.
“Just what I had in mind.” He smiled, taking in Peggy’s trim little figure, dark chestnut hair and fresh, mobile face. “I’m Michael Miller, and I have the jeep waiting to take you to your hotel.”