Free The Plot by Evelyn Piper

was. Jamey is always talking about greedy, well, I made Manny’s letter just a little too obviously greedy for ten per cent. I simply omitted all genuine interest in reading another Vaughn, in giving the world another Vaughn, and made it more—wanting to live off another Vaughn, wanting another taste of Vaughn gravy.
    â€œJamey said to write Manny that he wasn’t going to produce another Vaughn. I wrote Manny that Jamey wasn’t going to sell another Vaughn through Manny. They had a gentlemen’s agreement, not a contract. I just told Manny that since Jamey no longer considered Manny a gentleman, the agreement was off. That will burn Manny up, the little snob; when he sees this story in print, he’ll be so sore at the ungrateful old devil, he won’t be able to read!”
    â€œBut if he does?”
    â€œIf he does, Jamey won’t. What do we care if he does? If he does, it will simply confirm Jamey’s letter. Listen to me, Louis, if a jury of the most literate people in the world read your story, they would think Jamey wrote it.”
    â€œJamey won’t think so.”
    â€œJamey won’t read it.” Her genuine belief in his talent could not help but be beguiling; the ring of truth here reached Louis and put him off guard. Ethel, watching his face soften, began to talk of Jamey. “Jamey won’t read modern literature. He thinks he is the last of the great ones; why bother with modern literature? Jamey won’t read letters. Jamey won’t see anyone. Jamey is stuck here in his own private desert island. All right. So be it. On his own head be it!”
    Head on a platter, Louis thought, head in a hatbox.
    â€œAre you angry with me, Louis? Don’t be angry with me, be angry with a world where you have to sign Jamey’s name to your fine story to get it printed! Don’t be angry with me.”
    Louis nodded toward the letter. “I’m angry with one thing, Ethel—I’m angry about the weeks I have to wait when I send a story to a magazine, and look at that! Four days to receive this story, to read it, to buy it, to wire you!”
    â€œThat’s because of Jamey’s reputation.”
    â€œHe worked for his reputation, Ethel. He earned it.”
    â€œBut this won’t hurt Jamey’s reputation, Louis! This story will help Jamey’s reputation, although your concern with it seems rather quixotic to me. He isn’t concerned with your troubles. He won’t help your mother.”
    Louis shrugged. “Well, this won’t help her, either.” He flicked the telegram with his finger. “I’m as big a sucker for a kind word as the next one, but in case you didn’t notice, this won’t help my mother, either.”
    â€œIt won’t?” She read the wire again. “Oh, dear, they pay on publication, don’t they? Isn’t that a shame,” she said, “isn’t that a shame?” She drew her eyebrows together. “I could write and ask them to send the five thousand now. They would do it, but they would think it so strange that Jamey should ask for it. He never has, before. Now, should we take the chance of arousing suspicion, Louis?” She saw the corner of his mouth lift in a sad smile. “Louis, they won’t keep a Vaughn story hanging around their safe. They’ll publish it immediately, you’ll see. The check may come any day, Louis. You must wait for it. It would be cruel to go back to your mother empty-handed when, if you just wait a little while, you could take five thousand dollars back with you.”
    He was still smiling. He didn’t say, “You could send it to me, Ethel. I could go to New York and you could send me the check.” He knew damned well that she wouldn’t, but he didn’t ask himself why she wouldn’t, why it was important for her that he stay here. He was satisfied with lonely, pathetic, badly treated, humiliated, as