William P. McGivern The Chameleon Man 
 
 
 Transcriber's Note Pg 1 
 This etext was produced from Amazing Stories January 1943. Extensive 
    research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this 
    publication was renewed. 
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 2 
 I've got an office in the _Daily Standard_ building and sometimes when 
 things are slow in my line--theatrical bookings--I drift upstairs and 
 talk to the guy who writes the column, The Soldier's Friend, for the 
 _Standard_. 
   
 On this particular morning I walked into his office and found it empty 
 so I sat down and waited, figuring he was downstairs getting a mug of 
 coffee. After I cleaned my nails and glanced through Jake's mail I 
 propped my feet up on the desk and relaxed. 
   
 Things in my line were strictly stinkeroo. With the army taking an 
 option on every available hunk of male flesh, it made it pretty tough 
 to get acts together. Of course, I still had a few dollies to peddle, 
 but the situation don't look too good there, what with the WAVES and 
 the WAACS and the demand from factories for powder-puff riveters. 
   
 I sighed and moodily contemplated my uncreased trouser legs and 
 thought of my non-existent bank balance. Whoever said war was hell, 
 sure hit the nail on the head. 
   
 The door opened and I heard a shuffle of footsteps on the floor. I 
 tipped my derby back and looked up, expecting to see Jake, but the 
 office was empty. 
   
 The door was standing open and I scratched my head. Maybe it had blown 
 open. Then I remembered the sound of footsteps I'd heard and my 
 bewilderment increased. 
   
 "Hello," a voice said. 
   
 My feet came down from the desk with a crash. I sat up straight and 
 stared about the small room. 
   
 "Who said that?" I demanded. 
   
 "I did. I'm right here." It was the same voice and I jerked my head in 
 the direction of the sound. 
   
 For an instant I didn't see a thing. But then, my eyes seemed suddenly 
 to focus, and I saw a tall, lanky young man standing a few feet from 
 He had a shock of straw colored hair and mild blue eyes. He wore a 
 
 light suit. 
   
 "Can you see me now?" he asked, and his voice sounded strained, as if 
 he were exerting himself in some manner. 
   
 "Yes, I can see you," I said. I was a little nettled. "What do you 
 mean coming in and scaring people that way?" 
   
 "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just can't help 
 I'll have to relax now." 
 
   
 "You'll have to what? Are you--" 
   
 I broke off and goggled. The young man had completely disappeared. My 
 forehead was suddenly damp with nervous perspiration. I closed my eyes 
 and forced myself to think calmly. This was some trick of my 
 imagination. I'd been working too hard. My nerves were shot. I'd have 
 to take a rest. 
   
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 3 
 I opened my eyes cautiously. The room was empty. I drew a relieved 
 breath. 
   
 "I'm sorry if I frightened you," a familiar voice said apologetically. 
 "But, you see, I can't help it." 
   
 I stood up warily and peered about the room. 
   
 "Where are you?" I whispered. 
   
 "Right here in front of you." 
   
 "If you're a mahout for pink elephants, I don't want to see you," I 
 said. "Go away." 
   
 "Please," the young man's voice was plaintive, "I need your advice. 
 I'm in trouble." 
   
 "That's too bad," I said, edging toward the door. 
   
 "Please listen to me. There's nothing to be afraid of." 
   
 "From your viewpoint, no," I said. 
   
 "If you'll look carefully you can see me," the voice said. "That's 
 what bothers most people. I mean not being able to see me." 
   
 "How stupid of them to be bothered by a little thing like that," I 
 said, trying not to gibber. But in spite of my common sense I did peer 
 closely at the area the young man had occupied and I saw a very 
 remarkable thing. 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
 I saw the vague, indistinct shape of the straw-haired, blue-eyed young 
 man standing exactly where I had seen him the first time. But the 
 effect was so uncertain and shadowy that I was hardly able to trust my 
 eyes. 
   
 The young man seemed to blend into the background, which happened to 
 be a desk, water cooler and wall, so evenly and completely that it was 
 impossible to see him at all. 
   
 But even so, seeing him, however fuzzily, was a relief. 
   
 "It's a good trick," I said cautiously. 
   
 "It's not a trick," the young man said, aggrieved. "It's something I 
 can't help." 
   
 "Oh yeah? Well how does it happen that I was able to see you when you 
 came in?" 
   
 "I was exerting my will power," the young man said. "But that's 
 awfully tiring. I had to relax a moment or so and when I did you 
 weren't able to see me quite so distinctly."  
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 4 
 I found my curiosity stirring. Maybe the guy was a crackpot or phony, 
 but it wouldn't hurt to hear his story. In my line, with things as 
 lean as they are, you can't afford to miss any bets. 
   
 "What makes you pop on and off like an electric light?" I asked. "Must 
 be a tiring way to go through life." 
   
 "You don't know the half of it," the young man said mournfully. "I've 
 only been this way for a few months, but it seems like it's been 
 years." 
   
 "Well, go on," I said. "Spill your troubles. Why should Mr. Anthony 
 have all the fun?" 
   
 "What?" 
   
 "Never mind. Shoot." 
   
 "I'm not sure what causes me to fade-out like this. I've been to a 
 half dozen doctors and psychiatrists and they aren't sure either. But 
 it has something to do with personality development, they think. The 
 last psychiatrist I visited told me that I had a very colorless 
 personality and abnormal inhibitions and frustrations. He said that my 
 present condition was a physical manifestation of my colorless 
 personality." 
   
 I shook my head disgustedly. 
   
 "That sounds about as asinine as the droolings of the average 
 psychiatrist," I muttered. "He didn't know and spent an hour saying 
 so, I'll bet." 
   
 "It's awful," the young man sighed disconsolately. "I can make myself 
 visible for a little while but it's awfully tiring. The rest of the 
 time I go around like a ghost. I blend into the background so 
 completely that people just don't notice me at all. It's just like not 
 being alive."[1] 
   
 [Footnote 1: The young man's peculiar physical condition is not as 
 fantastic and unprecedented as one might at first believe. Everyone 
 has had the experience of meeting a person who makes almost no 
 impression whatsoever on them. People with such anemia of the 
 personality are constantly being forgotten, overlooked even by friends 
 who know them well. Their presence in a room will be unobserved for 
 several minutes and, frequently, such people will be completely 
 ignored, even when they are sitting or standing in plain view. In 
 nature, the chameleon has similar properties but for a definite 
 reason, namely that of defense against its stronger enemies. The 
 chameleon blends perfectly into the brown and green foliage of its 
 native habitat and even the marvelously keen eyes of its natural 
 enemies are unable to detect its presence. It is not impossible to 
 conceive that the same camouflaging property could develop in a human 
 being. Nature might appreciate the difficulty of a retiring, sensitive 
 person to mingle with his more vivid fellow creatures, and so clothe 
 him with a defensive armor of practical invisibility to insulate him 
 against the attacks of those with stronger personalities.  
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 5 
 Readers of 
 _Fantastic Adventures_ will remember John York Cabot's classic, "The 
 Man the World Forgot," as an exposition of this theme. Unexplained 
 instances of men and women "disappearing" from normal environments 
 might be simply cases of submerged personalities which did not 
 "disappear" but were simply and tragically forgotten.--ED.] 
   
 I studied the vague shape of the young man carefully. I could see him, 
 but only by straining my eyes. The whole thing was amazing. Looking 
 carefully, I realized that the young man was _not_ invisible; he was 
 just easy to miss because he was so inconspicuously blended into the 
 background of the office. 
   
 "You'd probably have a fine time on a patch work quilt," I said. 
   
 The young man shuddered. 
   
 "Please don't joke," he said imploringly. "I'm in real trouble. I need 
 help." 
   
 "I'll say you do," I said. "But I don't see what I can do for you." 
   
 "It's this," the young man said. "My draft board just deferred me with 
 a 4-F classification. They told me I wouldn't be any good in my 
 present shape. So there." 
   
 I looked at the young phantom. 
   
 "Well--go on!" 
   
 "Go on? That's all there is to it. They've rejected me. They won't 
 take me." 
   
 "And that's your problem?" 
   
 "Naturally." 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
 I shook my head. It takes all kinds, I guess. 
   
 "Now listen to me," I said. "If the army doesn't want you, consider 
 yourself lucky." 
   
 "But I want to get in," the young man protested. "I won't feel right 
 until I am in service." 
   
 "You left that psychiatrist too soon," I muttered. "Anyway, what do 
 you expect me to do?" 
   
 "Why, I was sure you could help me," the young man said. "You're the 
 Soldier's Friend, aren't you? You write the column of advice to the 
 Yanks in the _Standard_, don't you?" 
   
 I got it then. This wraith thought I was the Soldier's Friend. That's 
 why he was spilling himself to me. 
   
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 6 
 He continued. "You know all the angles of the various branches of the 
 Service, and I hoped you'd be able to recommend some branch that could 
 use me. I'm willing to do anything or go anywhere. If you'll help me 
 I'll put myself completely in your hands." 
   
 "Now just a minute," I said. "You've got the wrong idea. The guy you 
 want to see--" 
   
 I closed my big mouth with a snap. What was wrong with me? Were my 
 brains on a permanent vacation? Here was opportunity hammering and 
 banging at my door and I was too deaf to hear a sound. 
   
 This hard-to-see young man was a natural for show business. I already 
 had an act lined up that he would fit as neatly as five fingers in a 
 glove. And he was practically begging me to take him under my wing. 
   
 "Young man," I said. "You impress me as being sincere and earnest. And 
 for that reason I am going to try and help you." 
   
 "Oh, gosh, thanks." 
   
 "It's the least I can do," I said. "But," I added sternly, "you've got 
 to put yourself completely in my hands. You mustn't question a thing I 
 tell you to do. You see, this isn't going to be easy. I'll have to go 
 about it in a rather roundabout way. And it may take a little while." 
   
 "Oh, I don't care," the young man said happily. "Anything you say is 
 all right with me." 
   
 "Fine." I glanced at my watch. "We've got to go now. You follow me." 
   
 "Sure, Mr.--" 
   
 "Flannigan," I said automatically. 
   
 "But, Mr. Flannigan, that isn't the name you use on your column." 
   
 "Naturally," I said. "Very sharp of you to catch that. I might get you 
 into Intelligence, even if only as a decoy. The name I use on the 
 column is a pseudonym." 
   
 "Oh!" 
   
 "Now come along with me." 
   
 I hurriedly got my young phantom out of the Soldier's Friend office 
 before anyone could butt in and ruin everything. When we were safely 
 ensconced in my own office, I waved the young man to a chair. 
   
 "What's your name?" I asked. 
   
 "Horatio Heely," he replied. 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
 I was becoming more enthused every minute. Looking at him, or _trying_ 
 to look at him, seated in a chair, convinced me of his enormous 
 potentialities.  
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 7 
 The chair was brown leather and, at first glance, the 
 only thing that indicated that it was occupied, was a slight 
 indentation in the seat and back of the chair. Horatio blended in 
 perfectly with the deep brown of the chair and his face, which stuck 
 up six or eight inches, was invisible against the grayness of the 
 wall. 
   
 "Maybe you could get me into the Coast Guard," he said. 
   
 I frowned. "I hardly think so," I said. "I know the Commander over 
 there but I don't think I could swing it. Now, remember, you're going 
 to leave everything in my hands." 
   
 The door of my office opened then and a slim, stunning blonde walked 
 in, followed by a tall, gaunt, sober individual with a gloomy face and 
 deep black eyes. He wore a turban with an imitation jewel set in the 
 center folds, squarely over his high forehead. 
   
 "Hah!" this character cried. "I suppose again you will tell me there 
 is nothing for Mystiffio The Great, today." 
   
 "Ix-nay," I snapped. "Ut-shay up-yay!" 
   
 The blonde looked at me, eyebrows raising. 
   
 "What gives, mastermind?" 
   
 This was the act I had in mind for Horatio. Mystiffio was a fair 
 magician and his line of patter wasn't bad. The blonde, whose name was 
 Alice, acted as a prop, and with her looks and Mystiffio's line they 
 didn't do badly. But with Horatio in the act it would be tremendous. 
   
 He would blend perfectly into the stage background. Invisible, he 
 could assist Mystiffio with the hocus-pocus and really produce some 
 wonderful effects. 
   
 Alice was still looking at me as if I'd gone batty. 
   
 "Just trust Uncle," I said hastily. "I got a great new angle for your 
 act." 
   
 "You act as if you've been out in the sun too long," Alice murmured. 
 "But don't mind me." 
   
 With a weary sigh she sank into the brown leather chair. And one-tenth 
 of a second later she leaped to her feet with a scream. She wheeled 
 about, hand raised to slap, and then as she stared at the seemingly 
 empty chair, an expression of wonderment stole over her pretty face. 
   
 [Illustration: "Oh!" she screamed, and leaped from the chair] 
   
 "What--I could have sworn I--" She turned to me pleadingly. "What is 
 it? Am I going screwy or is there somebody sitting in that chair?" 
   
 "Horatio," I said. "Exert a little willpower and show yourself." 
   
 "All right, Mr. Flannigan," Horatio's voice from the chair answered. 
   
 Mystiffio moved nervously toward the door. 
   
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 8 
 "I don't believe it," he said. His broad dark face was an unhappy 
 mixture of fear and surprise. 
   
 "Well, I'll be darned!" Alice cried. She was staring at the chair, or 
 rather at Horatio, who had suddenly become visible. 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
 I made the introductions quickly. 
   
 "Now that's enough, Horatio," I said. "You can turn yourself off 
 again. I don't want you to wear out." 
   
 "Thanks," Horatio said gratefully. He smiled faintly at Alice. 
 "Pleased to have met you," he said. Then he vanished into the brown 
 background of the chair. 
   
 "Get me a drink!" Mystiffio said. He grasped the edge of the desk and 
 stared solemnly at the empty brown chair. "Get me two drinks." 
   
 "What is it?" Alice demanded. "How do you do it? Mirrors? Lighting? 
 It's terrific." 
   
 "It's completely on the level. Now here's the angle. I'm going to put 
 this guy into your act. Wait'll the crowds get a load of Mystiffio's 
 magic then. With Horatio in the background pulling the strings he'll 
 make Thurston look like an amateur parlor entertainer." 
   
 Mystiffio turned to me stiffly. 
   
 "What," he said frigidly, "makes you think I need an invisible man to 
 help me in my act? I am perfectly capable of astounding and amazing an 
 audience by myself." 
   
 "You're quoting your own press notices now," I said. "I know; I wrote 
 'em." 
   
 "And what makes you think I'm not as good as Thurston?" Mystiffio 
 asked in an injured voice. 
   
 "Ah, temperament!" I murmured. I turned to Alice. "You work on him. 
 You can see that Horatio will be a good thing, can't you? You don't 
 want your act to die, do you?" 
   
 "Mr. Flannigan." It was Horatio. His voice sounded apologetic. "I 
 don't want to disturb you, but what has all this got to do with 
 getting me into the army? You sound more like a booking agent than the 
 Soldier's Friend." 
   
 Alice looked at me. 
   
 "Heel," she said. "What kind of line are you giving him?" 
   
 "Horatio," I said. "I am disappointed. I expected a little trust from 
 you. Didn't I tell you it might be a little while before I got things 
 set? This angle I'm working now will put you practically into the 
 army." 
   
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 9 
 "Yeah! How?" 
   
 "I'm going to line you up doing an act for the U. S. O. Does that show 
 you my heart's in the right place?" 
   
 "There will be a short pause for cat-calls and boos," Alice murmured. 
   
 "All right," Horatio said with a sigh. "I'll go along with you." 
   
 "Fine," I said. "And just to get you used to army life I'm going to 
 start paying you fifty bucks a month." 
   
 "You great big generous man," Alice said and I think there was a 
 twinge of sarcasm in her voice. 
   
 "Now that's no way to talk," I said. "I'm doing the lad a favor." 
   
 "Yeah," she said. "I'm sure you are. Just like a man picking up a 
 dollar bill is doing the street cleaners a favor." 
   
 "You don't understand my noble motives," I said, "so I will not talk 
 about them anymore. Tomorrow we start rehearsing the new act." 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
 Well, sir, it was absolutely amazing the way Horatio picked that act 
 With his dexterous, invisible help Mystiffio performed like the 
 
 paragon of all prestidigitators. Alice added a jolt of high-voltage 
 eye-appeal to the ensemble, by smiling sweetly and wearing a black 
 satin bathing suit that had been designed by some patriotic person who 
 believed in saving material to the point of cutting down on 
 essentials. 
   
 I was sure, for the first time in my stretch in this loony business, 
 that I had an option on a nice private little gold mine. 
   
 And I wasn't going to let anything upset my cartful of golden apples. 
   
 "Okay," I said. They were rehearsing on the stage of an empty theater 
 which was owned by a guy I'd done some favors for. "You look pretty 
 good, but don't let it go to your head. The act needs a lot of work. 
 Keep at it. I'm going out to get a sandwich." 
   
 Alice put her hands on her hips and looked down at me. 
   
 "Everything is fifty-fifty with you, isn't it?" she said. "We do the 
 work, you get the money. Nice even split." 
   
 "Careful, beautiful," I said. "You'll die of your own poisons, if you 
 don't look out." I waved to her and left. After I'd had a bite to eat, 
 I went to see one of the biggest agents in the business, the guy who 
 books all the acts into the Capitol in New York. 
   
 "Look, Morry," I said, when his secretary had ushered me into his 
 office, which was big enough to hold the World Series in, "I've really 
 got something terrific lined up." 
   
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 10 
 Morry looked up at me and his little eyes were uninterested. He yawned 
 and dusted a fleck of dust from the sleeve of his coat. 
   
 "What is it?" he asked. 
   
 "It's a magician's act that--" 
   
 Morry shook his head. "Magicians are dead. Who wants to see rabbits 
 pulled out of a hat?" 
   
 "This is different. This guy is good." 
   
 "All right, he's good," Morry said. "So what? We can't use him." 
   
 "But you ought to at least see the act," I pleaded. "It's got a honey 
 of a girl, too." 
   
 "Girl?" Morry glanced up and there was a flicker of interest in his 
 little eyes. 
   
 "Yeah, a honey." 
   
 "Well," Morry shrugged. "I can't promise anything, but we do need an 
 act to fill in a spot within a week or so. But whatever I get has to 
 be good. I can't send bums to New York." 
   
 "I know. I know," I said. My heart was hammering with hope. One break 
 on the Stem and I'd be set. "When will you catch the act? Tomorrow be 
 all right?" 
   
 Morry nodded. 
   
 I went back to the theatre walking about three feet from the ground. I 
 felt I was in at last. It was a funny feeling I couldn't analyze, but 
 I knew I was going to be in. 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
 When I walked into the little office back stage I found Alice there 
 talking to Horatio. 
   
 She was saying, "There should be _something_ you could do for the 
 Army, Horatio," as I walked into the office. 
   
 Horatio was standing by the desk, shoulders slumped. I had to look 
 twice to make him out against the background of the desk and wall. 
   
 Alice shut up when she saw me. 
   
 "Horatio and I were just talking," she said. 
   
 "Yeah," I said. "Now Horatio and I are going to do a little talking. 
 Make yourself scarce." 
   
 Alice left and I turned to Horatio. 
   
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 11 
 "What kind of a line was she giving you?" I snapped. 
   
 "Why, gosh, Mr. Flannigan," Horatio stammered. "She was just trying to 
 help me. She's just as interested in getting me into the Army as you 
 are. She's a wonderful girl, Mr. Flannigan." 
   
 There was something in his voice that brought me up with a jolt. The 
 kid had fallen for the girl as sure as I stood there. 
   
 "Now, look," I said gently. "You really want to get set with Uncle 
 Sam, don't you?" 
   
 "Why, sure." 
   
 "Then listen to me. I'm doing everything I can for you. And I've got a 
 deal all lined up. I was just over at the Army recruiting station and 
 I think everything is set. Not right away, but pretty soon." 
   
 "Gosh, that's wonderful." 
   
 "Now you know who your friend is." I came over beside him and put my 
 hand on his shoulder. "I got a little piece of advice for you that I 
 want you to take to heart. Stay away from this kid, Alice. She's no 
 good for you." 
   
 "Now just a minute. You can't--" 
   
 "I'm sorry, kid," I said. I let my hand fall from his shoulder. "Maybe 
 I shouldn't tell you, but--" 
   
 "Tell me what?" 
   
 "It's only for your own good I'm doing this. That pretty little blonde 
 is just going to play you for a sucker. She's already married." 
   
 Horatio gasped. He must have been pretty sold on the girl. 
   
 "I don't believe it," he cried. 
   
 "It's God's truth." 
   
 "Who is the man?" Horatio cried brokenly. 
   
 "Mystiffio." 
   
 "Mystiffio!" 
   
 I nodded slowly. "It's a tough break, kid, but the sooner you forget 
 her the better." I had already decided I'd get rid of her. She 
 wouldn't be hard to replace. Horatio was my gold mine and I didn't 
 want anyone to do a scorched-earth job on him. 
   
 "But she never told me," he muttered. 
   
 "Naturally," I said. "She'll probably even deny she's married to him 
 now, but don't let that fool you." 
   
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 12 
 "No, sir," Horatio said. "She won't make a sucker out of me." His 
 anger must have subconsciously affected his visibility mechanism for 
 he was visible and his lean jaw was hard, but there was a hurt look in 
 his clear blue eyes. 
   
 "That's the boy," I said. "Just remember who your friends are and you 
 won't go wrong." 
   
 "I won't, Mr. Flannigan," he promised solemnly. 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
 The next afternoon Morry arrived to see the act. He was dressed in a 
 natty pin stripe suit and he wore a big yellow carnation in the 
 buttonhole, but his sallow face was impassive. 
   
 I escorted him down the dark empty theatre to the front row. 
   
 "Just hold your breath now," I told him. "I'll have the act on stage 
 in a jiffy." 
   
 He yawned and glanced at his watch. 
   
 "I haven't got long," he said. 
   
 I went backstage and found Alice. 
   
 "Hurry up," I said. "Morry is waiting." 
   
 She looked at me as if I'd just crawled out from the wainscoating. 
 "I've just talked to the kid," she said. "He thinks I'm poison. What 
 kind of a yarn have you been feeding him?" 
   
 "Me? Why, honey, that hurts. Do you think your Uncle Patrick would 
 breathe an unkind word about you?" 
   
 "Well, it's mighty strange," she said. "He won't even tell me what's 
 biting him." 
   
 "I wouldn't pay any attention to him," I said. "Perhaps it's all for 
 the best." 
   
 "Hmmm," she said, eyeing me shrewdly. 
   
 "Come on now, be a good kid and get things rolling. A lot depends on 
 this you know." 
   
 I went back and joined Morry. 
   
 Well the act was terrific. Mystiffio had Morry's eyes sticking out 
 inside of thirty seconds. I hadn't told Morry about Horatio. I figured 
 I'd let that angle ride for a while. 
   
 But Morry was really impressed. 
   
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 13 
 "The guy is good," he said. "The things he does don't seem humanly 
 possible." 
   
 Of course he didn't know that most of the effects were being created 
 by the invisible Horatio but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. 
 And he didn't miss Alice, either. When she came on stage in her cute, 
 abbreviated little costume, he straightened up and opened his eyes. 
   
 "The kid is nice," he murmured. 
   
 "Are we in?" I demanded. 
   
 "Can't say yet. I gotta talk to the act but I'd say your chances were 
 pretty good." 
   
 I almost swooned with happiness. The break I'd been waiting for all my 
 life was here at last. The golden apples were about ready to drop into 
 my lap. 
   
        *       *       *       *       * 
   
 When Mystiffio finished his routine I took Morry backstage. I found 
 Alice. 
   
 "Here she is, Morry," I said. "And she's just as nice as she looks." I 
 shoved Alice toward him. "Be nice, baby," I hissed in her ear. 
   
 Morry took one of her little hands and his eyes were interested. 
   
 "I kinda like the act," he said. "If you could find time to be nice to 
 me I might like it a whole lot." 
   
 Alice takes her hand back as if it had accidentally brushed something 
 slimy. 
   
 "I'm sorry but I don't go with the act," she snapped. "There are some 
 things worth more to me than three meals a day and a paycheck." 
   
 "Okay, sister," Morry said without expression. He turned to me. "Guess 
 I made a mistake coming up here. The act is lousy." 
   
 "Now wait a minute," I yelled. "You said it was good. You can't walk 
 out now." I wheeled to Alice. "Baby, baby, don't do this to me. Tell 
 him you're sorry." 
   
 Mystiffio came up behind us while we were talking. 
   
 "What is the matter?" he asked. I noticed he put an arm around Alice's 
 shoulders. I was too distraught to think about it. 
   
 "Nothing's wrong," I said desperately. "Alice just took offense at 
 something Morry said. Nobody meant any harm." 
   
 Mystiffio drew himself up straight and he grabbed Morry by the lapels. 
 Morry struggled to free himself but he was pinioned helplessly. 
   
 "You cad! You bounder!" Mystiffio roared. "Do you mean you've been 
 making advances to my daughter?" 
   
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 14 
 Daughter! How do you like that! That just goes to show you never to 
 trust people. 
   
 Morry pulled himself loose. 
   
 "You're all crazy," he shouted. "Lemme out of here." 
   
 He wheeled and started away, but before he had taken two strides he 
 collided with a solid, unyielding, invisible substance. 
   
 He backed away a few steps, his mouth working in terror. 
   
 "What is it?" he screamed. 
   
 "I'm sorry," Horatio's voice sounded in the air a few feet from Morry. 
   
 Morry's face went white; he stared wildly about for another instant 
 and then charged madly out of the theatre, screaming in terror. 
   
        *     *       *       *       * 
   
 I chased after him, but it was a hopeless effort. When I got to the 
 sidewalk he was gone. Moodily I slumped back into the theatre and went 
 backstage. My big opportunity was gone, but I still had Horatio. 
   
 I found Alice in the office and she was alone. She smiled sweetly when 
 she saw me. 
   
 "You too, Brutus," I muttered. Then I thought about my meal ticket and 
 looked worriedly around the room. 
   
 "Where's Horatio?" I snapped. 
   
 "Horatio," she smiled, "is gone. Too bad you missed him. He would have 
 liked to say goodbye." 
   
 "Goodbye!" I shrieked. "Where's he going?" 
   
 "Into the Army," Alice said sweetly. "Isn't it wonderful?" 
   
 "You're crazy," I shouted. "The Army won't take him." 
   
 "I arranged a little something for him," Alice said. "I'm sure he'll 
 be very useful in the camouflage department." 
   
 _Camouflage!_ 
   
 I groaned and sank into a chair. 
   
 "Yes," Alice said pleasantly, "when he learned that Mystiffio was my 
 father--not my husband as you so cleverly told him--he was quite angry 
 for a while. But of course he felt better when he thought it over. And 
 he was very happy to take my suggestion to apply for a commission in 
 the camouflage. I think Horatio and I are going to get along nicely." 
   
 I groaned again. 
   
 
 
 
 The Chameleon Man Pg 15 
 Mystiffio stuck his head in the door. 
   
 "Goodbye," he said. "Ready, dear?" 
   
 "Yes," Alice said, moving to the door. "I'm ready." 
   
 "Now wait a minute," I cried. "Where are you two going? You're the 
 last act I've got." 
   
 "I am enlisting!" Mystiffio said proudly. 
   
 "As what?" 
   
 "Signal corps, in charge of messenger pigeons." 
   
 Mystiffio flapped his coat tail and a lone pigeon fluttered into the 
 air. "I've had a lot of experience with the little devils." 
   
 I groaned again and dropped my head in my hands. 
   
 What was left? 
   
 When I looked up, Mystiffio and Alice had gone. 
   
 For a moment I sat there staring about the quiet dusty office. Then I 
 stood up and I knew what I was going to do. 
   
 I put my hat on and walked out of the building. I didn't stop walking 
 until I reached the Marine recruiting office. A big poster said, "The 
 Marines Promise You Action!" 
   
 I walked in. Nothing could be worse than what I'd just been through. I 
 felt contented for the first time in sixteen years. 
   
 
 
 Publication Date: February 10th 2015 https://www.bookrix.com/-mk496e398f1e345