Photoplay (Feb-Sep 1917)

114 Photoplay Magazine angrily. "You wanted to get my wife over in the islands with you — you had to bring me too ! You're both as guilty as — " But Carew springs for him. The two men are locked in a struggle when the wreck of the boat occurs. Ames frees himself, rushes to the deck and swings himself over the side into a life boat loaded with women — never thinking of his wife. Carew rushes to Marjorie's stateroom. He breaks in the door and finds her unconscious from a blow on the head. He struggles up through the flooded saloon with her in his arms. When he reaches the deck, he finds the ship deserted. Next morning, Carew and Marjorie, lashed to a makeshift raft, reach the shore of an island. On another island, Ames, delirious from an injury amongst the rocks of the shore, is dragged from the water by monks — members of an order devoted to the care of the colony of lepers which the island harbors. Almost a year passes. Ames is a half demented lay brother in the monastry — a man of changed personality, laboring with the others amongst the lepers. Carew and Marjorie are living primitively on the other island, gradually losing hope of rescue. Finally, Marjorie comes to the realization that it is Carew whom she loves. It is the last month of the year, when Carew sights a ship. His first impulse is to light the brush beacon which he has built ; then he realizes that rescue will mean their return to civilization — the probable reunion of Marjorie and Ames. He struggles with himself until the ship is hulldown on the horizon ; then he lights the fire. When Carew and Marjorie return to the United States, they learn that Ames was supposedly lost in the wreck of the transport, and they plan to marry as soon as Carew returns from his original mission — the inspection of the leper colonies. Of course, in one of the colonies, Carew finds Ames, but Ames, still suffering frpm the injury to his head, does not recognize him. Now comes Carew's supreme struggle. He can return, leaving Ames on the island ; he can marry Marjorie and no one ever will be the wiser. Will he be strong enough to resist? Of course, Carew takes Ames back with him. He operates in an. effort to restore the husband's reason, but without immediate success. Both he and Marjorie understand that her duty is to her husband ; and Carew plans to go away. He is leaving — saying goodbye to Marjorie, when Ames enters the room. The sight of his wife weeping in Carew's arms brings back Ames' real personality — and he picks up life just where he dropped it — in the midst of the struggle with Carew over his wife. ; Mad with anger, Ames tries to kill Carew with a heavy statuette from the table, but Marjorie catches his arm. He tries to free himself, and in wrenching away from her, his sleeve is ripped from wrist to shoulder. On his arm, he sees a dull white spot — the first mark of leprosy ! Ames stares at the mark for a moment in terror. He rushes from the room out onto the balcony of the house. Carew finds him on the pavement below the broken railing of the porch — dead. So that is how the original idea of "twisting the triangle" worked out for me. CAPTAIN PEACOCKE RETURNS NEXT MONTH! There is an increasing demand for new authors, since new authors bring new ideas. Yet authors experienced as well as inexperienced are constantly facing new problems, unanswerable by previous instruction in the writing of photoplays, however thorough. There is a puzzle a minute in this business. Yesterday's guide-book can't trace the paths of 1917. There is no man in the business of photoplaymaking who has kept as aggressively in touch with every side of screen drama as Captain Leslie T. Peacocke, who is not only writing successes, but is directing them. Though the living original of "nothing to do till tomorrow," Capt. Peacocke at Photoplay's earnest solicitation has prepared a new series of articles of immeasurable importance to every ambitious photodramatist. The first of these will be printed in the March issue, on sale February i. It deals with the growing need for the free-lance zvritcr. We know — have known, for a long time — that this business needs your literary ingenuity, but Capt. Peacocke will tell why you are needed, 'who needs you, and where and 7vhen you are needed. His ensuing chapters will describe grave technical lapses and omissions in the prevailing scenario writer's equipment, according to the new demands, and will tell just how these lapses and omissions may be remedied.