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BY FEARLESS
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was lucky enough — or unlucky enough — to bag a part in a picture featuring a beauty contest. Hers wasn't a big role, but it was plenty to make the girl decide she'd cash in her return ticket and try for a career.
All too soon the picture was over. Weeks dragged into months, but still no more parts. Of course, she didn't know how to play the Hollywood game and had no one to advise her, no one even to talk to her. The beauty-contest affiliates made no bones about their boredom at her plight. This was an old and dull story to them. Desperately she walked up and down Sunset Boulevard, fighting with her pride which wouldn't let her go home a failure. But it was no use. From the sharp-eyed man with the three balls on his calling card she obtained enough money on her wrist watch to buy her return ticket.
Headed for the station, she ran into a boy with whom she had worked in her one and only picture. He was an attractive lad, clean and fresh-looking. They'd had a lot of laughs together
FEBRUARY, 1941
at the studio. It was so good to have someone to talk to that she found herself pouring her heart out to him; how the flight to glory was over — she couldn't even pay her room rent any longer.
He hesitated a moment, then said casually, "Well, if that's all that's worrying you, why don't you cash in your ticket again and come up and
They danced — on her money!
stay at my place for a while?"
"Oh, that's awfully ni— " Mildred began and stopped suddenly. "You mean spend the night there?"
"Sure. Spend a lot of nights there. That's what you're looking for, isn't it? A roof over your head and something to eat?"
"Oh, but I couldn't!" she gasped, adding hastily, "I mean, I don't want you to think I'm a prude. It's just that I'd be such a millstone around your neck."
"A very pretty millstone," he laughed easily, his eyes remaining for a fraction of a second on the curve of her neck. "But don't worry about that. I'll carry you while you're out of a job and probably a month from now you'll be carrying me. A lot of the girls and boys around here pool their expenses like that. You might call it — economics!"
We'll draw the curtain there with just this comment: I think we're all agreed it's a mighty dangerous theory of economics.
Another (Continued on vage 94)
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