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CHAPTER XVIII BUFORD’S GOOD LUCK
 In his “Klondike Monologue1” at the Orpheum, Buford, the actor, made a sudden and unexpected hit. The morning after his first appearance, both Dominick and Berny read in the paper eulogistic2 notices of the new star. Dominick was particularly interested. He remembered Buford’s state of worry while at Antelope3 and was glad to see that the unlucky player was, in the parlance4 of his own world, “making good.”  
The evening papers contained more laudatory5 paragraphs. Buford’s act was spoken of with an enthusiasm which taxed the vocabulary of the writers who found that the phrases they had been using to describe the regular vaudeville7 performances were not adequate for so sparkling an occasion.
 
It was a rambling8 monologue of mining-camp anecdotes9, recollections, and experiences, delivered with confidential10, simple seriousness. Buford’s appearance in an immense, fur-lined overcoat with buttons made of gold nuggets and a voluminous[325] fur cap on his head, was given the last touch of grotesqueness11 by a tiny tinsel spangle fastened on the end of his nose. This adornment12, on his entrance hardly noticeable, was soon the focusing point of every eye. It looked as if it grew on its prominent perch13, and as he spoke6, a slight, vibrating movement, which he imparted to that portion of his visage, made the tinsel send out continuous, uneasy gleams. The more serious his discourse14 was and the more portentously15 solemn his face, the more glimmeringly16 active was the spangle, and the more hysterically17 unrestrained became the laughter of the audience. Altogether, Buford had made a success. Three days after his first appearance, people were talking about “The Klondike Monologue” as a few weeks before they had been talking about the last play of Pinero’s as presented by a New York company.
 
From what Buford had told him, Dominick knew that the actor’s luck had been bad, and that the period of imprisonment18 at Antelope was a last, crowning misfortune. Through it he feared that he had forfeited19 his Sacramento engagement, and the young man had a painful memory of the long jeremiad20 that Buford, in his anxiety and affliction, had poured out to himself and Rose Cannon21. That the actor was evidently emerging from his ill fortune was gratifying to Dominick, who, in the close propinquity forced[326] upon them by the restricted quarters of Perley’s Hotel, had grown to like and pity the kindly22, foolish and impractical23 man.
 
Now, from what he heard, Buford’s hard times should be at an end. Such a hit as he had made should give him the required upward impetus24. Men Dominick knew, who had theatrical25 affiliations26, told him that Buford was “made.” The actor could now command a good salary on any of the vaudeville circuits in the country, and if “he had it in him” he might ascend27 the ladder toward the heights of legitimate28 comedy. His humorous talent was unique and brilliant. It was odd, considering his age, that it had not been discovered sooner.
 
Berny was very anxious to see him. Hazel and Josh had seen him on one of the first evenings and pronounced him “simply great.” She extorted29 a promise from Dominick that, at the earliest opportunity, he would buy tickets for her, and, if he could not accompany her himself, she could go with one of her sisters. Dominick did not want to go. He had no desire to see Buford and be reminded of the three weeks’ dream which had interrupted the waking miseries30 of his life, and more than that he hated, secretly and intensely, sitting beside Berny, talking to her and listening to her talk, during the three hours of the performance. The horrible falseness of it, the appearance of intimacy31 with a woman[327] toward whom he only felt a cold aversion, the close proximity32 of her body which he disliked, even accidentally, to brush against, made him shrink from the thought as from the perpetration of some mean and repulsive33 deception34.
 
He stopped to buy the tickets one midday on his way to lunch. He made up his mind to buy three, then Berny could either take her two sisters, or Hazel and Josh, whose craving35 for the theater was an unassuageable passion. The good seats were sold out for days ahead and he had to be content with three orchestra chairs for an evening at the end of the following week. He was turning from the ticket office window when a sonorous36 voice at his elbow arrested him:
 
“Mr. Ryan,” it boomed out, “do I see you at last? Ever since my arrival in the city I have hoped for the opportunity of renewing our acquaintance.”
 
It was Buford, but a rejuvenated37 and prosperous Buford, the reflection of his good fortune shining from his beaming face and fashionable figure. The red rasped look had left his features and the hollows beneath his high cheek-bones were filled out. He was dressed in gray with an almost foppish38 nicety, a fedora hat of a paler tint39 on his head, and a cravat40 of a dull red rising in a rich puffed41 effect below his collar. His shoes shone with the glassy polish of new patent leather; the red-brown kid gloves that he carried exhaled[328] an attractive odor of russia-leather. He held out his hand to Dominick, and the young man grasped it with real heartiness42.
 
“Glad to see you, Buford,” he said, “and glad to hear you’ve made such a success of it. I haven’t seen it myself, but I hear it’s a great show.”
 
Bufo............
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