Part 10 (2/2)

And, off to one side, stood several men in their s.h.i.+rt sleeves superintending the performances. They gave many directions.

”No, not that way! When you faint, fall good and hard, Miss Pennington!”

”Hurry now, Mr. Switzer; get in some of that funny business! Look funny; don't act as though this was your funeral!”

”Come on there Mr. Bunn; this isn't 'Hamlet.' You needn't stalk about that way. There's no grave in this!”

”Hold on, there! Cut that part out. Stop the camera; that will have to be done over. There's no life in it!”

And so it went on, in the glaring light that filtered in through the roof, composed wholly of skylights, while a battery of arc lamps, in addition, on some of the scenes, poured out their hissing glare to make the taking of the negatives more certain.

Alice was enthralled by it all. She stood close to Russ's side, clasping his arm. Many of the men engaged in taking the pictures knew the young operator, and nodded to him in friendly fas.h.i.+on, as they hurried about. Some of the actors and actresses, too, bowed to the young fellow and smiled. He seemed a general favorite.

”Isn't it wonderful?” whispered Alice. ”I had no idea the making of a moving picture was anything like this!”

”I thought you'd change your mind,” replied Russ, with a laugh. ”But you haven't seen half of it yet. Here comes Mr. Pertell now. I'll speak to him about your father.”

CHAPTER VIII

”PAY YOUR RENT, OR----”

Alice liked the appearance of Mr. Pertell, manager of the Comet Film Company, from her first glimpse of him. He seemed so st.u.r.dy, kind and wholesome. He was in his s.h.i.+rt sleeves, and his clothing was in almost as much disorder as his ruffled hair. But there was a kindly gleam in his snapping eyes, and a firm look about his mouth that showed his character.

”Oh, Mr. Pertell, can you spare a moment?” Russ called to him.

”Oh, h.e.l.lo, Russ; is that you?” was the cordial greeting. ”How is the patent? I could use it if I had it now. Spare a minute? Yes, several of 'em. They've spoiled that one act and it's got to be done over. I don't see why they can't do as they're told instead of injecting a lot of new business into the thing! I've got to sit still and do nothing now for ten minutes while they fix that scene up over again.

Go ahead, Russ--what can I do for you?”

He sat down on an overturned box, and motioned for Russ and Alice to occupy adjoining ones. Clearly there was not much ceremony about this manager. He was like others Alice had observed behind the scenes in real theatres, except that he did not appear so irascible.

”This is Miss Alice DeVere,” began Russ, ”and she has come to you about her father. He has lost his voice, and she and I think he might fit in some of your productions, where you don't need any talking.”

”Yes, sometimes the less talking in the movies the better,” agreed Mr. Pertell. ”But you do need acting. Can your father act, Miss?”

”He is Hosmer DeVere,” broke in Russ. ”He was with the New Columbia Theatre Company. They were to open in 'A Matter of Friends.h.i.+p,' but Mr. DeVere's throat trouble made him give it up.”

”Hosmer DeVere! Yes, I've heard of him, and I've seen him act. So he wants an engagement here; eh?”

”Oh, it isn't exactly that!” interrupted Alice, eagerly. ”He--he doesn't know a thing about it yet.”

”He doesn't know about it?” repeated the manager, wonderingly.

”No. He--I--Oh, perhaps you'd better tell him, Russ,” she finished.

”I will,” Russ agreed, with a smile. And, while Alice looked at some of the other dramas being enacted before the clicking eyes of the cameras, her companion told how it had been planned to overcome the prejudice of Mr. DeVere and get him to try his art with the ”movies.”

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