Moving Picture World (Jan-Feb 1927)

February 12, 1927 MOVING PICTURE WORLD 481 ACK BOYLE, of the Rivoli Theatre, and Ben Durgin, of the Strand, were what might be called friendly enemies, with the accent on the enemies rather than the friendly. Outwardly they maintained the semblance of a warm friendship, but neither would have gone down cellar for a good cry had the other been bumped off by an automobile and their joint motto seemed to be that all was fair in love or war, particularly war. Boyle never succeeded in tracing to Durgin the quarter pound of red pepper that was tossed into his furnace the night he was playing “The Covered Wagon,” and Durgin could not legally prove that Boyle planted a chewing gum sample man in front of the Strand on the occasion of a children’s matinee. He could only dig the stuff off the floor and seats with a putty knife and much deep thought, but each had his well-defined suspicions of the other. Honors lay pretty even when Durgin got his big inspiration. He offered a silver loving cup and a bathing suit to the most popular girl in town, the big idea being that the winner would wear the bathing suit when she came on the stage to receive the cup. The rules were very simple. You could have one vote for each nickel value in the tickets, and you could buy as many advance tickets as you wished. The contest was to run six weeks. The first couple of weeks the sale was a little better than usual, but suddenly the contest seemed to acquire momentum. The balloting was slow, but a number of advance books were being sold. Even Jim Bunce, the village cut-up, bought ten dollars worth, and the smirk on his face made Durgin uneasy. There was something in the air, and he watched the ballot box without gaining much enlightenment. The ballots were being bought up, but they were not being voted. When Durgin passed the Rivoli and happened to see Bunce and Boyle laughing at something, suspicion grew. The very fact that they trie3 to look unconscious when they became aware of his presence indicated that Boyle was up to some trick. On the surface the balloting was pretty even, with Jennie Pyfrom getting a shade the best of it. Durgin slipped Jennie an extra hundred votes now and then, to smoke out the dark horse, but without result. The runners-up rallied a bit, but about fifty per cent, of the ballots were not cast. But Horsley was too small a town to keep a secret for long, and it was toward the end of the third week that Durgin got the idea. Someone was putting up a joke on him. Ostensibly it was Bunce, but E'en knew that Jim Bunce could not think of an idea like that, and he decided that Boyle was back of the scheme. Boyle, through Bunce, was urging the candidacy of Miss Natalie Higgs. Natalie was five feet eleven and weighed about 120 pounds. She was what was known as of a “certain age”; which meant over fifty, and she would make a highly successful last in any beauty contest, but with the beginning of the fourth week some four thousand votes were turned in to her credit, and that explained why Boyle on the previous Saturday afternoon had offered free matinee admission for five ballots. He wanted to roll up a total for Natalie that could not be overcome. Jennie was only 2,500 ballots, with no hope of equaling Natalie’s large total, and once her name had been entered, the under cover votes fairly poured in. It was a brutal sort of joke, but the town enjoyed it the more because of the brutality. The same spirit that caused the ancient Romans to delight in the martyrdom of the Christians in the Arena was manifest in this crude humor which forced the quiet and dignified Miss Natalie into the position of the town’s bathing beauty. A few hours after the first ballot were cast, Miss Higgs visited Durgin with a plea that he withdraw her name or refuse to accept the ballots, but Ben pointed out that he was under obligation to accept the votes, and added that her withdrawal would serve only to add fuel to the flames. They were closeted in the theatre office for more than an hour, and Jim Bunce, who had been patroling the sidewalk in front of the Strand for most of the morning, was surprised to see her emerge with a faint smile on her thin, pursed lips. Natalie in tears would have brought a sweet joy to Jim’s corroded heart, but he was unprepared for smiles, and he rushed off to take the news to Boyle, who was even more puzzled. Durgin shoved Jennie Pyfrom’s votes up by the hundreds, but there was no chance to run her up to within even reaching distance of Miss Higgs, for the initial block was added to by practically eighty per cent of the regular sales. The other contestants became discouraged, and most of them dropped out. The contest might have flopped had not Durgin adroitly dropped a hint of still other ballots under cover, and Boyle and Bunce worked with terrific energy to roll up a Higgs’ total that could not possibly be overcome. The contest closed with the vote standing a good five thousand plurality for Miss Higgs, and eyen the ordinarily genial editor of the Horsley Herald was moved to acclaim the triumph of Miss Higgs over “our younger beauties,” a gibe at both her age and looks that hurt the kindly old spinster more than the writer could realize. The contest ended on a Saturday, but the presentation was not to be made the following Friday. The Strand was crowded to suffocation, but the fire marshal did not dare stop the sale of tickets lest he be mobbed. All Horsley wanted to see Miss Higgs in a one-piece bathing suit, and was willing to pay the advanced price of fifty cents for the privilege. Even Jack Boyle was there, for there was not enough business at the Rivoli to call for his presence, and he would have lost both night shows rather than miss his rival’s discomfiture. No one left the house when the second show was over, and a murmur like the roar of the surf ran through the house when the lights went on and E«n Durgin was discovered beside a loving cup. Briefly Ben recited that the cup had been won by Miss Natalie Higgs, who was present to receive the gift and thank her many friends. The spotlight hit the right tormentor and the three-piece orchestra broke into the strains of “Hail to the Chief” as a vision of loveliness advanced toward Durgin. The knit suit displayed every perfect curve of her rounded form and the spotlight gave an ivory whiteness to the gleaming flesh that showed so generously below the abbreviated trunks. Jim Bunce, sitting with Boyle, sprang to his feet. “A cheat!” he cried. “That ain’t Natalie Higgs.” The angular form of the spinster sprang from the wings. “It is so, Jim Bunce,” she shrilled. “She’s my brother’s daughter, named after me, and she’s Natalie Higgs.” A gale of laughter fairly blew Bunce out of the house with Durgin in his wake. Most of the crowd knew of Miss Natalie’s niece and in a quick revulsion of feeling their sympathies were turned. The young Natalie’s railroad fare had cost $9.68, but Durgin figured it was cheap at the price. Boyle had boosted business for him at least $3,000 and he could afford it.