“Well, for heaven’s sake!” Alison protested. “He can’t write a review unless he comes to see a play!”
“Sure he can,” Chris Hill returned. “Easy. He’ll write about two lines to the effect that Dear Ruth opened at the high school last Thursday, and in the cast were..., et cetera and et cetera. By saying nothing he’ll create the impression we were terrible!”
Peggy looked uneasily at Chris. He was terribly angry. She had a momentary vision of him storming into the offices of the Kenabeek Gazette and demanding to have it out with Mr. Birmingham. She wasn’t far wrong.
“Why don’t I go to see him?” Chris fumed. “I’d love to see that guy and—”
“—tell him just exactly what you think of him!” Chuck finished. “Yes, I know. So would I, but that’s probably what they expect us to do, so we’d better not. Better sit tight.”
“Just what is the connection between Max Slade and Birmingham?” Peggy persisted. “It seems very mysterious to me. I can’t imagine why a newspaperman would be working hand in glove with a theater manager—it doesn’t make sense. Newsmen usually just want news! Period!”
“Who knows?” Chuck shrugged. “All I know is that we’ll be able to judge from the house tonight how it’s going to go from now on without a review. It’s too early to tell—maybe people will come anyway. But if they don’t, I can tell you this theater isn’t going to last long!”
Watching Chuck, Peggy felt worried. She noticed that Chris was looking at their director too, and catching his eye, she knew that he felt as she did. This meant so much to Chuck, and he had worked so hard. If there were only something she could do....
“Peggy,” Chuck said, as if in answer to her thought, “would you mind going with Danny and Mike Miller this afternoon to hunt for furniture?” He was going to work on the second act of Angel Street, in which Peggy didn’t appear. “You don’t have to—I know you need a rest—but if you feel like it, it would be a great help.”
“I’d love to!” Peggy beamed cheerfully. “Really, I would. It’ll give me a chance to see the town.”