," he said, splitting his freckles with a double row of
white teeth a yard wide. "They said I'd have to go to college, and then
I'd have to write a million words before I'd produce anything
worthwhile."

If he hadn't owned such an honest, open face I'd have thrown him out as
an imposter right then. The ream of neatly typed pages on my desk would
have fooled any agent, editor or producer like myself, on Broadway. The
format was professional, the plot carefully constructed, the dialogue
breezy as a May afternoon in Chicago and the motivation solidly adult.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Nineteen."

"And you'll sign an affidavit that you wrote this play, and it's an
original work?"

"Certainly!" The smile faded a little. "Look, Mr. Crocker, you're not
just kidding about this contract, are you? Is the play really okay?"

"That," I said trying to restrain my own enthusiasm, "is only determined
on the boards. But I'm willing to risk a thousand-dollar advance on your
signature to this." I shoved the papers at him with my fountain pen on
top.

He didn't uncap the pen until he had read the whole thing, and while he
pored over the fine print I had time to catch my breath.

His play competed rather well with the high average output of most
professionals I knew--not exactly terrific, but a relatively safe
gamble, as gambles go on the street of bright lights. Well, I made a
mental note to pass the script around a bit before I signed the contract
myself. After all, he might have cribbed the whole thing somewhere.

He finished reading, signed the contract and handed it back to me with
an air of expectancy. I stalled, "I, uh, will have the check for you in
a few days. Meanwhile, you'd better get yourself an agent and an
attorney and fix up that affidavit of authorship. Normally, I don't deal
with free-lance playwrights, you see."

"But I don't need any agent," he protested. "You be my agent, Mr.
Crocker--" He was studying my reaction, and after a moment he said, "You
still don't quite believe that I wrote _Updraft_, do you, sir? Now that
you've met me you want more time to check up, don't you?"

I said, "Frankly, yes, Hardy. _Updraft_ is a mature piece of writing,
and unless you are a genius--well, it's just business son."

"I don't blame you," he said smiling that fresh-air smile. "And I'll
admit I'm no genius, but I can explain everything. You see, I've read 38
books on how to write plays--"

"Tut!" I said. "Format te