The Motion Picture Director (1925)

The Director THUNDERING SILENCE By H. H. Van Loan V/hat Has Gone Before For two years Howard Chapin, an ex-convict, has been taking the place of John Morgan, Los Angeles banker and clubman, in the business and social world. At midnight, April 8, the strange pact expires. Morgan appears at the appointed hour, in the role of a derelict and informs Chapin that he has no desire to return to his former existence. During his wanderings he has found the woman he loves and he is going to return to her. Chapin learns that Mrs. Morgan, who has been on a world voyage, is returning the next day. He is shown her photograph bv Morgan, and for the first time in his life his admiration is aroused for one of the opposite sex. He now realizes the futility for a continuance of the deception. He cannot go on with it; he will not deceive her. Chapin has paid every debt left by Morgan when the latter went away, and has accumulated $150,000 in cash. Morgan learns where the money is hidden and he takes it. Chapin wants to know what is going to happen to Mrs. Morgan, whereupon Morgan informs him that his life is insured for $200,000 and that Morgan is better off dead than alive. John Morgan is going to die that night. And, Chapin is Morgan ! Thereupon, Morgan compels Chapin to take a revolver and retire to the den, for the purpose of committing the suicide of Morgan. Meantime, “Big Red” McMahon and his gang of crooks are worried over the prolonged absence of “Spider” Kelly, who has gone out to “pull a job.” A little later the police are called to the Morgan residence to investigate the financier's death, and decide it is a clear case of suicide. However, Herbert Spencer, a police reporter on The Examiner, does not agree with the police theory. The Examiner “scoops” the other papers and Spencer goes out to make a more thorough investigation. “Big Red” and his gang are surprised upon learning of the death of Morgan, and they are of the opinion that “Spicier” Kelly double-crossed them and made a get-away with the fortune. CHAPTER VIII eLAUDIA CARLSTEDT didn’t go to the address on West Sixth Street, which Chapin had given her on a small slip of paper which she left him. This much was learned by Chapin when he arrived at the place about an hour later. It was a small family hotel, and Chapin arrived in a taxicab and hurriedly entered and inquired of the clerk if anyone had called to see him. He w^as surprised as the clerk shook his head, and he turned around and leaned against the desk for a moment. This looked like defeat. Perhaps something had happened to her? . . . Maybe she had been followed and kidnapped? These and many other thoughts flashed through his mind, and he wondered what his next move should be. He was right up against a stone wall, and her failure to carry out his instructions seemed to temporarily stump him. He strolled over and dropped disgustedly into a chair. From the moment the shot was fired that killed John Morgan, the night before, he believed he was the one individual who could solve this mysterious crime. Whv shouldn’t he be the logical one to do this? . . . He was the only person who was there when the crime was committed: the only one who knew it was a cold-blooded murder. The police believed it was a suicide. John Morgan was not the Meantime, the Empress of India is approaching San Pedro from the Orient, and among her passengers is Claudia Carlstedt. She is overcome as she reads a wireless bulletin announcing the death of Morgan. When the steamer docks, a derelict boards the ship and goes to her cabin. She opens the door, and as she stares in amazement at the man she exclaims: “John!” With that exclamation she throws herself into the man’s arms. Claudia faints and the man places her on a divan and revives her. She is confused and bewildered, for she believes the man is John Morgan. The stranger informs her that Morgan is really dead and that he was murdered the night before. He warns her that she must not go to the Morgan residence, and when she asks him for an explanation he calmly tells her that he is Howard Chapin. He adds that they must not be seen leaving the steamer together, and gives her an address and instructs her to go there immediately and he will join her there presently. They are impressed with each other and each is wondering what role the other is playing in this baffling mystery. Later, a Japanese gardener finds the body of a slain man along the Ventura highway, which is identified by Detective Aulbert as the crook, “Spider” Kelly. Meanwhile, The Examiner staff is wondering what has happened to Spencer, who has strangely dropped out of sight. At the same time, “Big Red” McMahon’s gang have learned of Kellv's death and they believe their chief has carried out his threat to kill Kelly. But, at that moment, “Big Red” enters, and much to the surprise of all, denies any knowledge of the crime. Just then Detective Aulbert enters and asks “Big Red” the name of the man who killed the crook. “Big Red” professes ignorance, and Aulbert is inclined to believe him and is about to leave, when the door suddenly opens and there, to the great surprise of the gang, stand “Spider” Kelly on the threshold. In the meantime, Spencer is being held a prisoner in a shack on the outskirts of San Pedro. He overpowers the sentry, makes his escape and dashes towards Los Angeles. sort of man who would take his own life. Men like him believed in holding on to the very end. That was more than he could say for himself. He had stood ready to take his own life, and for practically no reason. Yes, there was a reason, and a very good one, too. It was for her he was willing to give his life: a woman he had never seen before in his life. Silly. And yet, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. It would have saved her a great deal of mental anguish. He had never held onto life with the great tenacity that some men do. Some men love life, and are satisfied even to exist. He wasn’t one of them. For years he had merely existed. Life had been one long struggle for him: one tremendous fight to get somewhere. But, as he thought it over now, he realized that he was usually without an objective. He had always been contented just to drift. He was proud of the success he had made of John Morgan for the past two years. Never had he been able to make such a success for himself. Strange. What a novel twist this would make for a play or a motion picture ! An author could make it the basic foundation for a corking good story. That’s the trouble with authors . . . they don’t write enough about life. The majority of them write about the Continued on Page 32 14