Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1927)

20 Film Struck "Me?" he echoed. "Whatever put that notion in your head?" "I'd be perfectly wild about you if you were in the movies. And the other girls would, too. You're an ideal type, only you lack polish. We've been talking it over for a long time." Oscar laughed, although his cheeks suddenly were touched with high color. The knowledge that he had been the subject of a discussion of that nature and had been nominated as a possible candidate for screen honors both flustered and flattered him. "Acting isn't much of a business," he announced. "Not to my way of thinking." "It's a career," she told him loftily, "not a business. There's a whole lot of difference." "A career's just a swell name for a job that isn't steady," declared Oscar. "You know, Glad," he went on quickly, "I — I haven't told you this before, but Mr. Glotz wants me to buy an interest in The Rosebud. Really. And I'm planning to do it. I've saved up more than three hundred dollars and I'll own the business before long." "You ought to be thinking of something — something bigger, Oscar,"the girl answered, almost reproachfully. "Running a store is so commonplace and unromantic." "But I'll be owning it," he said, a little hurt by her attitude. "I'll be boss. It's a good, regular business all year round and it'll make me money." "You could make ten times as much in pictures." "Yes — and I suppose I could make a lot more if I happened to find a gold mine !" he retorted. "Oh, be reasonable!" she exclaimed. "I always thought you were ambitious. You could do big, wonderful things if you tried, Oscar. Things worth while." "You call painting my face and wearing trick clothes something big and wonderful?" he scoffed. "I'd prefer it to making sandwiches." "Folks have to eat — they don't have to go to the movies." "But they do go. You know it." "But there's all kinds of men, Glad," he protested. "We all have to find our places. I don't suppose Lester Lavender could run a swell store like The Rosebud, so " "As if he'd want to ! The very idea ! A smelly old store !" "Well, / like it." Oscar was defiant now. What had come over the girl, he wondered. "I like it and I'm going to stick." - "You — you're a clod!" she flung at him. A customer bustled into the store at that crisis and Oscar had to go to wait on her. When she had gone, her arms loaded with purchases, he turned. Gladys was standing at the window, absently poking her finger into a cream puff. "Better eat it," he advised, breaking the silence between them. "I can't sell damaged goods." She sulked and did not respond, but she did pick up the puff; and when she bit into it, the cream spurted, trickling over her chin. Oscar laughed; and presently she joined him, the ugly words between them apparently forgotten. "That's better," he cried. "Let's don't quarrel — ever. Promise? Run along now and don't bother a busy man. I'll call for you at seven." He watched her out of sight, his eyes rather wistful and his mind disturbed. This had been the first unpleasantness between them. But it was all her fault, of course. Such foolishness! Picture actor! Girls certainly thought of silly things. A battery of whistles began to blow. Twelve o'clock ! Oscar came back to his workaday world again with a guilty start. The regular noon customers would soon come piling in, shouting their orders, in a great hurry as usual. He mustn't keep them waiting. CHAPTER II. THINGS REACH A CRISIS. Herman Glotz, much against his will, was persuaded to keep shop that evening. Oscar, promising to be back by ten o'clock, whisked off his apron, slid into his coat, and departed for the Padgett home. He found Gladys all aflutter. It seemed she had, along with a bevy of other worshiping girls, caught a glimpse of Lester Lavender that afternoon at the railway station when he had arrived, accompanied by his manager. The police had been called upon to keep back the crowd. Then the girls had hovered outside the hotel later, eager for another glimpse of their hero, but they had been disappointed. It was reported that Lester felt indisposed and would remain in his room until time for him to appear at the theater. His manager had broadcast that bit of devastating news on his way to the Palace. Oscar tried to appear very much interested and impressed as the particulars were told to him, but did not make a great success of it. Remembering the stormy scene of the morning, and not wishing to have it repeated, he kept his opinions to himself and agreed with almost everything his companion had to say. They made their way to the theater and pushed through the crowd that thronged the lobby and sidewalk. The lobby had been decorated, hurriedly, with bunting and flowers and many pictures of" the star. But the excited box-office patrons did not tarry to gaze upon all this ; they rushed through the doors and pounced upon the empty seats. Oscar and Gladys found admirable ones, quite close to the stage. The film itself, six reels of it, was of the usual Lavender variety. It abounded in close-ups and permitted Lester to achieve the expected, rubber-stamp heroics, together with a change of wardrobe for each of his many entrances. None but the star had much to do. The story wandered through English drawingrooms and came to its destination aboard a palatial yacht anchored somewhere in a Hollywood lot. Oscar failed to get much of a kick out of the continuity, and it doubtless bored the others as well ; but it didn't matter. On this occasion the picture wasn't the thing. The audience waited politely but impatiently for the big treat. And when the film had flickered to an end, with Lester clutching to his immaculate shirt front the palpitating misunderstood miss who had spilled glycerine tears through five reels, and the house lights came up, the spectators stirred expectantly. To Oscar, somehow, Lester Lavender, stepping before the plush curtain after having been introduced by his manager, bowing and smiling in response to the applause that rocked the theater, did not look quite so handsome in the flesh. He was not so tall nor so slender ; neither did his clothes fit so well. And his complexion was splotchy. Of course lights and paint and all the other mysterious studio subterfuges must account for his more favorable appearance on the screen, Oscar found himself thinking. ■ He wasn't disappointed, however, that the flesh-andblood hero failed to measure up to his film likeness — far from it ! He grinned to himself and stole a glance at his companion, but Gladys was apparently too enraptured to notice. When the ovation had quieted down. T ester spoke. . . Continued on page 94