Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1916)

The Glory Road 29 "Yes, hut first I'm going to play a new pan that's ready for me. It portrays the Lowest depth of degradation to which a human being may descend. 1 play a publicity man." "Zing!" said Mr. MacDonnell, rolling up his eyes in token of this death thrust. Then, attracted by a stir among the company, he looked towards the scene of action. "Hullo," he said, "I guess Briscoe's about ready to shoot." CHAPTER II TH II E director, having lined in his scene, *■ and being satisfied with the light, was bustling towards the crowd clapping his hands. A red megaphone dangled from one wrist by a rawhide loop. "Ready for action, people I" he shouted, and instantly the desultory talk which, for continuous flow put Tennyson's brook in a class with a desert dry wash, ceased. "We'll continue the attack of the pirates from a point about a hundred yards this side of the village." he went on. "Pirates! Go down hill to where Nagle is standing, and spread out in a thin attacking line. Everybody got guns and ammunition?" There was a chorus of assent as some fifty of the men started down' the slope towards the assistant director. "Californians, you proud remnants of a race of loafers ! Line up across the canyon about where you are. and retreat slowly into the hills driving your women and children before you. And you. Stark, command the center of the retreating line." At the sound of his name a young man dressed in the blue United States Army uniform of 1840 detached himself from the group of principals and came forward. Tall and with a handsome face whose salient features lent themselves perfectly to photography, he was a perfect type of romantic hero. To see him walk and note the proud carriage of his head, to hear his gay, ringing laugh, was to catch the first impression of his buoyant, self-unconscious zest for life, an enthusiastic relish of the things that are, that seemed almost pagan. He was Romualdo Stark, a product of the two races which have made California history. His grandfather, a Yankee, coming with Fremont's first expedition, had married a girl of excellent Spanish family. Their son. Romualdo's lather, hail taken an American wife, so that in the young man's veins fiowed three quarters pure New England blood. Bui the austerities of that strain had been warmed and softened l>\ his Latin heritage, and he revealed the influence in the delicate shape of his strong hands, his grace of movement, and his passion for gaming. The line of defenders spread out. the women behind it laden with bundles and herding children. June, who had taken her place beside the heroine of the story (whom she served) heard both their names called and went with her companion to Briscoe for instructions. This leading lady, a favorite Broadway legitimate star, was taking a flyer in pictures during an interval of "rest." Briscoe handled her as if she were some lovely bomb, and when he had finished with her, turned to June. "During the flight you become separated from your mistress," he explained. "In front of the last camera up the hill you are hit by a bullet, do a fall, and die. The incriminating letter drops out of your hand and the heroine's father finds it. See?" June nodded eagerly. She liked the little bits she had to do, and this being her first picture, the romance and glamour of the work still fascinated her. She was particularly anxious to do well, both for Briscoe's sake and her own. Three weeks in the studio had taught her that stupidity before the camera was the one unforgivable sin. A T last all was ready. Briscoe bellowed ^"^ an order through his megaphone, and assistants ran along in front of both firing lines waving torches which gave off a thick yellow smoke — the smoke of battle which the discharge of the guns would not produce satisfactorily on the screen. "All set !" screamed the director, watching the effect. And then a moment later. "Action! . . . Camera! Go!" The guns blazed with pale stabs of fire ; the hills reverberated ; the pirates advanced ; the Californians gave way stubbornly, while the women and children fled terror-stricken up the hill. In the center of the line Stark waved his sword, issued orders, and played the hero generally. The three cameras caught the battle