Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1927)

56 Film Struck "You'll have to tie a can to that label if you expect to make headway on the screen," she advised him. "That is, unless you're going in for knockabout stuff." "I'm not going in for anything in the pictures," he declared emphatically. "No? I suppose you're just doing this to relieve a temporary financial stringency, eh ? You're in a bit of a jam and need money," she intimated. "Well, you've plenty of company. It's one of our popular pastimes." "I don't need money. I've got nearly three hundred dollars," he informed her. It slipped out before he could catch himself. "My God !" the girl exclaimed huskily. " Who are you, anyhow? That roll would look bigger than seven dollars' worth of lettuce. How have you got it, Oscar? In government securities, bank stock, or gilt-edge mortgages ?" "I've got it right here in my pocket," he declared proudly. Since he had, inadvertently, made mention of his wealth, there seemed to be no use in keeping its whereabouts concealed. Penelope gasped and placed a shaky hand upon his arm. "You haven't told any one, have you?" "No one except you." "Then don't ! Don't even look as if a friend of yours had that much. Not around this set. There'd be bloodshed and violence." "I won't. You see, it's all I have to live on until I get a steady job," he confided. Somehow he felt he could be frank with his new-found companion; she invited confidence. "Well, there isn't anything steady about doing atmosphere," she commented. "Not any more. Why, there're ten thousand extras registered at the bureau ; and seems like all the producers are going in for smallcast stuff. It's a tough row to hoe, Oscar." "But I keep telling you all the time I'm not going to do picture acting," Oscar persisted. "That's the last thing in the world I would do. I mean to get something in my line." "Oh, that's right. You did tell me. What's your line ?" "I've been in the delicatessen business," he answered. Penelope made a queer noise in her throat as if to choke back a shriek of amusement. "You — you're joking," she accused. "No, I'm not. I came very near buying an interest in a swell shop. I know the game, from oven to counter." "A cook, too, are you?" The girl's eyes were dancing humorously, but her voice was calm and sympathetic. "Well, that's not so bad. They're not so plentiful as would-be picture sheiks. Cooking means eating, and that's saying a mouthful these days." Oscar nodded, warming toward his companion at once. It was nice to hear some one speak a kind word for his chosen profession, some one who sympathized instead of discouraged. "There's money in it," he declared. "You bet," the girl agreed promptly. "Barrels of it," she added. "It's certainly refreshing to know a chap whose head isn't packed with film dust. How long have you been in California?" "I haven't been there at all." Penelope frowned. "But you got this engagement and " "I didn't get it," Oscar interrupted. "I — I let it get me. I don't suppose I've done right, but I'll explain things to-morrow. I didn't want to be turned out in the night, knowing nothing about the country. You see, I meant to go to Sapphire. Know how far it is from here ?" The girl stared at him a moment, apparently puzzled. "I remember seeing you at the station this afternoon," she began. "Didn't you get off the train with the rest of the crowd?" "I got off the other train; and before I knew it, all your crowd was around me and — and " He stopped, wondering if he had done wrong in confessing. "And you jumped a bus? Let them dump you here?" she cried. "I thought the bus was taking me to Sapphire," Oscar explained. "Nobody told me any different." The truth dawning upon her, Penelope rocked with laughter. "Oh, I say ! This is too good ! And Carter doesn't suspect?" "I guess nobody suspects," he said. "It wasn't exactly my fault, was it ? And by the time I found things out, why, I had a ticket and — and I was so hungry I decided to eat first and explain afterward." Penelope continued to giggle. "I never heard the beat! Honest, Oscar! You stumble into a job without knowing it or wanting it. Pretty soft for you ! Why, I was hoofing Hollywood for three weeks before I landed this engagement; and when I got it I had just a quarter in my near-needlepoint bag, to say nothing of owing room rent. But you — you with almost three hundred in your pocket and not caring about a job, just naturally fall against one. Can you beat it? You sure have to believe in fairies! And on top of everything you tell me you're going to fade out of the picture to-morrow. Turn your back on ten washers a day, with cot and cakes. After Heaven sent you this luck !" "I wasn't cut out to be an actor," Oscar protested. "You're not supposed to be an actor for ten a day. Just be yourself, maybe with whiskers." Oscar shook his head. "I don't think I'd like it." "Suppose you don't? The two weeks here will be so much velvet and will add a couple of layers to your bank roll." "But I'm not entitled to the position," he remonstrated. "It would be cheating." "Poof !" the girl exclaimed airily. "What does one extra more or less mean to the SuperApex office ? You're on the job and registered. Where does the cheating come in? You'll earn all you're paid for, believe me, when you work for DuVal." Oscar wavered. Penelope was smiling up at him. She had made light of his fears, brushed them aside like nothing at all. Perhaps he was foolish not to take advantage of the situation, and two weeks' salary — more than he had earned in a month back home — was an inducement. On the other hand, the very thought of play acting, of being in front of a camera, and with a hundred eyes watching him, swayed his verdict. He would be new and green — blundering. Every one would laugh — ridicule him. Instinctively he shrank from that mental picture. "I guess I better not," he said. The girl regarded him with eyes that bespoke frank disappointment. "I'd like to have you stay, Oscar," she pleaded. "Honest I would. I haven't many friends in this rabble and — and maybe we could be lonesome together. I've been promised a bit in the continuity, and if DuVal happens to fancy me, it'll mean everything. He's the big noise out here, the high and mighty in filmdom. He hates himself like a peacock, but he he can make you with a nod. I never worked for him before, but I've .been frisking around the other lots for a year and I don't screen so worse. Carter's plugging for me. He's one of DuVal's assistants and a good scout. This may be my big chance." "Why, that'll be great," Oscar told her with genuine enthusiasm. "It sure will. I wish you all the luck in the world." [Continued on page 92]