Came the dawn : memories of a film pioneer (1951)

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his money and loudly accused Stanley of having robbed him. The guard was called and eventually the train was stopped at a subsequent station to take a detective on board. Then it was that the old man, sobered a little, found the missing money in his waistcoat pocket. His abject and slobbery repentance was more difficult to bear than his false accusations. So the Scotch Express was stopped to vindicate Stan's honour. I am in fact a most law-abiding person, and do not willingly break the smallest rules. But I hate the law and loathe actions at law. I would do almost anything rather than embark upon one. It was in the law-courts that I first met Will Barker. Whether it was the atmosphere of the place I do not know but I took an instant dislike to him. It cannot have been instinctive because I found out that I was utterly wrong. In fact, he became a very good companion and latterly one of my dearest friends. He came to my rescue once and took shares — which I now believe he guessed were worthless, though / didn't know it — in a little company I had started and was trying to keep alive. We were competitors almost from the beginning, friends from when we found each other out, volunteers together in the war of 14-18, and competitors again when we had finished with films. He may have been a rough diamond but he is diamond all right, through and through. The law case I am alluding to was one brought by, or against, Charles Urban concerning his exclusive use of the word 'Bioscope' to describe a film projector he was marketing. I think he would have succeeded if he had not been, ill-advisedly, calling his machine the 'Urban-Bioscope.' It was held that he had been, in effect, declaring that there were other Bioscopes and he could not now turn round and claim that his was the only one. One law case proverbially leads to another so I may be excused, perhaps, for jumping ahead to one in which my own company was involved. Phillips Oppenheim had written, among many others, a novel called The Amazing Quest of Mr. Ernest Bliss, from which Henry Edwards produced a film for us. In the book and film, there was described a rascally theatrical agent of the name of Montague. Certainly there was no thought of pointing to any existing individual. But there was one individual of that name who chose to think that the cap was intended to fit him and he took action against us for libel or slander or defamation — I forget how it was worded. The great Marshall Hall was briefed 80