Moving Picture News (Jul-Oct 1913)

THE MOVING PICTURE NEWS GAFFNEY'S GLADIATOR By VIRGINIA WEST (Adapted from Majestic Release) P^OR heaven's sake, Jack, what's the matter? You look as hfeless and woebegone as a last year's bird's nest. *■ What's troubling your little heart this morning?" Billy Brown swung himself to a table and lighted a cigarette. "Nothing at all." Jack heaved a sigh that greatly belied his words. "Go ahead with it. Get it out of your system," insisted Billy, paying no attention whatever to Jack's denial. Jack wheeled on his chum. "Well, if you've got to know I'll tell you. I'm in a mess — a big mess." "Rather indefinite, my boy, considering I've never known you to be in anything else." "Oh, go to the devil ! Lots of good you are to a fellow in trouble." "Beg your pardon, old chap," said Billy seriously; "what's the matter? You're not in love again, are you?" "No !" thundered Jack. "I'm in real trouble." "Well?" questioned Billy. Jack threw himself on a couch with a sigh that was almost a groan. "I'm an awful liar, Billy,'' he announced. Billy roared with merriment. "Why is that beginning to trouble you? Been to a revival or something? You must have got religion in the good old way." "All right, go ahead and call me a liar if you want to," Jack answered with exaggerated dignity. "I'm not calling you one. You called yourself one. Of course I'd never have known you were guilty of such crimes if you hadn't confessed." Jack turned his face to the wall, and silence reigned in the room for several minutes. When he turned toward his friend again he said : "Say, Billy, old boy, I've got to tell you about it sometime so I might as well do it now." Billy smoked on. "You have known all along that my uncle was sending me allowances haven't you?" "Yep." "And you knew that I was intending to study sculpture." "Sure, I've known that for over a year."' Jack sat up on the couch. "Well," he said, as though making a confession, "my uncle has been sending me money because I was supposed to be studying. If I had not been he would not have sent one-tenth as much." "Well?" asked Billy calmly. "Well, you idiot, I've been getting in deeper and deeper. A few weeks ago he asked me what I was working on. I wrote him I was doing a life-sized statue. Then he wanted to know what the statue was and I told him Apollo." "Well, that sound all right to me. Where's the trouble?" asked Billy. Jack groaned. "The trouble is coming. This morning I had a night letter that froze my blood. Listen, 'Will be in New York Wednesday P. M. Will bring friend, art connoisseur, to see your statue. Uncle.' Now. will you be serious?" At last Billy was entirely serious. His voice sank almost to a whisper. "Say, old man, what you going to do?" "Lunatic ! That's what I want you to tell me." "How do I know?" 'Well, you've got to think. My brain's worn out." Billy lighted another cigarette and sat thoughtfully swinging his legs, while Jack paced nervously room. "Great Scott, Jack, be still. How can a fellow you pacing around here like a caged lion?" "Well, liave you thought of any way out?'' "No ! I almost had a way, but you make so much noise." "What was it?" "I don't know, I didn't get it." Again Billy set to work to think, and Jack stood by the window nervously watching him, afraid to move for fear of disturbing the precious plan that might be forming in his friend's sleek head. "I've got it!" cried Billy, springing into the air. "Get somebody to pose for you as the statue. Impersonate it, I mean." Jack looked at his friend with mingled i)ity and scorn. ''Billy, you're an ass." "All right. It's the best I can do." "Is that all you can think of?" "Yes. How could you expect anything more to come from an ass's head?"' up and down the think with "I beg your pardon, Billy, old friend," apologized Jack. "Please forgive me. My head is in a whirl. Do you suppose I could get anybody to do such a thing?" "You bet you could if you paid well." "But he'd have to be nearly perfect." "Yes, that's so," agreed Billy. "Billy !'' cried Jack in ecstasy. "For heaven's sake, what's the matter?" "You're the very man." "Now who's crazy?" "Billy," continued Jack, "you're the man destined by Fate for that job. You have a fine figure in the altogether, and you understand the seriousnesss of the situation as no hired model could. Won't you do it, Billy? You suggested it, you know." "Who's crazy now, I'd like to know?" "Ah, Billy, dear old chum, you won't desert me, will you?" "That's right; work on my feelings. What would I look like standing up there, stitch, stark naked?" "Oh, you would be beautiful," Jack assured him. "Why, all my neglected artistic instinct comes back at the very thought." "Artistic instinct ! You're a little late with it. You had better have stood me up and looked at me long ago, and then you wouldn't be in all this trouble." Jack had relaxed into mournful silence. When Billy saw him pathetically giving up his last hope he relented a little. "Couldn't I have anything at all on?" he asked. Jack brightened a little. "Yes, you could have a — a bow and arrow or — or — oh, what was the thing he carried ? Well, something, anyway. And then you wouldn't really be uncovered, for of course you would have to have some whiting all over 3-ou to make you look plastery." "Some what?" almost screamed Billy. "That whitewash}^ stufl: like the girls put on their arms and necks at night?" "Well, something like that, only I'd put it on with a brush, so it would stick better." "Say, do you take me for the back fence? This business must have turned your head. Jack." "Ah, now, Billy, don't back out," pleaded Jack. 'T haven't backed in yet." "But you will, Billy. I know you will. You wouldn't leave me in the lurch. You helped me to spend most of uncle's money, you know, and it's only fair to help me out." "Oh, all right, I'll do it, but I expect to die. I've heard of people dying from having themselves all plastered over with something. Maybe my own skin would do." "No, it wouldn't. But the stuff won't hurt you. Don't the girls plaster themselves up with things?" "Yes, but not all over. Anyway, they can stand anything." "And so can you, Billy, dear, in a good cause. I'll promise to scrub you after they have gone." "Well, if I'm going to do the Greek god act. I'd like to know what kind of position I've got to take. Don't give me that one flying on the one toe ; my toe's sore." "That's not Apollo, idiot, that's Mercury. I wish we could find an obscure Apollo, then the bloomin' corner sewer wouldn't me so familiar with the position. Say, Billy, don't you remember some of those Apollos we learned' about in that History of Art course?'' "Don't remember I studied it." "Well, you did, and I believe if I dig around a while I can find my book." "All right, dig. I'm going to rest. Goodness knows I'll need a little reserve strength before the night's over.'' Billy threw himself on the couch, while Jack searched the obscure corners for the book. Before long Jack emerged, covered with dust. In his hand was the coveted book. He searched through the leaves until he came to the Apollos. Billy rolled over and looked over his chum's shoulder. "There!" he exclaimed, pointing to a picture of Apollo Belvedere, "why not take him ? You could take that drapery he's i^oi utiing to waste there and put it over me to make me look nuire nuulest." "Don't he a worse idiot than you can help, Billy.'" Jack >aid disgustedly. "Don't you know the old man would know 1 "d tampered w itii it ?"