Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1927)

92 Film Struck Continued from page 62 course, he told himseli hurriedly, this situation was merely temporary — an unforeseen emergency, a condition to which he had surrendered only because of his destitute circumstances. He would get some salary shortly; then DuVal and all the misery-makers would find him missing. "You're keeping something back," Penny ventured, breaking in upon his thoughts. "It's that terrible, dark secret again, I'll bet. Oh, don't tell me — I don't want to hear. But I know it's a girl. That's what drives broken-hearted men to the wide, open spaces. Something drove you here, Oscar — and you'll tell me one of these days." "It isn't worth telling," he said, lying gracefully. What if she did find out ? About Lester Lavender ! The very thought made him panicky. Then he forced a laugh and endeavored to close the unpleasant subject. •"I wonder who stole my money?" he ventured. "I haven't seen that slinky-eyed fellow around, have you ?" "I saw him," Penny replied. "He's dressed something like Mr. Metford — and he certainly looks the part ! A slicker ! He'd steal a fly from a blind spider. If he didn't lift your roll, I'm a second guesser. We want to watch him." "If I really thought so," Oscar stated belligerently, "I'd mighty soon choke it out of him. Maybe I can't use my head so well, but I can use my fists !" "Go to it," the girl urged, measuring the breadth of her companion's shoulders. "I'll back you with all I have." They rose from the table and walked from the tent. "Better touch up your complexion before the afternoon shooting," Penny advised. "It's a bit streaky. By the way," she added, "how did you ever do so good a paint job? You told me you'd never " "A man that Carter called did it," Oscar interrupted, and he revealed what had befallen him that morning when the assistant director had taken him in charge. Penny shook her head. "God's certainly good to you," she murmured. "I never saw the like. You're the original lucky lad." "I'm lucky when it don't mean much," he returned, his thoughts concerned with the loss of his wallet. "Poof ! What's a trifling three hundred to a chap with your prospects?" she reproved, quick to divine his thoughts. "Here, stand still !" Sheltered from curious eyes, Penny opened her make-up kit and began to repair Oscar's damaged grease-paint veneer. "There! That'll do," she observed, surveying her" handiwork critically. "As good as new. You're certainly a handsome brute, Oscar ! Say, Lester Lavender and the rest of those dashing screen Apollos had better watch out. You'll be crabbing their act." Oscar's heart skipped a beat at the mention of that name. "Do — did you know Lester Lavender?" he asked faintly. "Well, I can't exactly say I'm chummy with him," Penny remarked, "but I've worked in a number of pictures on his lot. A real fellow, too. He doesn't give you a severe pain in the neck like some of his competitors — treats every one of us like human beings. 'No highhat stuff with Lester. That's why he's the most popular star in the business." An unmistakable chill played up and down Oscar's spine. The girl's splendid tribute filled him with dread misgivings. Certainly Mr. Lavender had not displayed his true character that night back home. Oscar, troubled, didn't quite understand things. And he thought it strange that Penny had not, by this time, heard of the La Belle affair. Surely the news must have gone out, and those of the picture world would have been among the first to hear. There was, he decided, just one possible solution — that Mr. Lavender bad not been fatally injured, and had, for some purpose unknown, preferred to keep the mishap a secret. "Mr. Lavender's been in the East," Penny went on blithely, unaware of the turmoil going on in Oscar's breast. "Making personal appearances to help along his last release. Have you seen 'Wandering Wives ?' " Oscar nodded. As though he ever could forget that picture and all the misery that had come out of it ! "Not so much, did you think? I did a slavey in one flash. I hear the picture's a flop at the box-office. Guess fans are getting fed up on society gush. Wouldn't surprise me none if Lester did some red-blood, he-man tripe, like this piece DuVal's shooting. That's always surefire. I understand he's had a falling-out with the Hi-Class people and is considering other offers." A dozen pertinent questions trembled on Oscar's lips, but none of them escaped. Then some one shouted his name and he started away toward the cameras. Penny, following at a more leisurely pace, ran into Carter. "Is that your protege?" he inquired, nodding toward Oscar's broad back. "He seems to be DuVal's just at present," Penny responded. Carter shrugged. "You said it ! How the boss loves to pull his stuff ! The DuVal temperament ! What price idiosyncrasy. He's making a colossal idiot of himself, and of that dumb-bell besides. Clay to mold and shape ! His fine master hand that is to bring forth a genius from a clod !" "Strange things have happened in filmdom," the girl remarked. "I'll tell you this much," she added. "Oscar himself isn't a bit thrilled over his dazzling prospects." "Oscar ? Is that the bird's name ?" Carter laughed. "Oscar Watt ! I might have expected it. He doesn't know what it's all about — never will." "Why not tell DuVal that ?" "I did." Carter made a grimace. "You see the result. If 'Ossified Oscar' ever achieves fame, he can thank me. Now if I had taken it upon myself to murmur into my liege's ear that Mr. Watt looked like excellent film material, DuVal would have kicked him into the middle of the desert. In other words, that's DuVal ! So you see by what a slender thread hangs screen renown." "Then whisper to DuVal, please, that as prospective screen timber, you think I'd make a fair dishwasher," Penny urged, her eyes twinkling. "Do that, Carter, and I'm made." The assistant director grinned. "It doesn't akvays work," he confessed. "Well, I see the boss in action again," he added, with a glance down the street. "I hope we shoot more footage this afternoon than we did this morning. Otherwise we'll be marooned out here for the next three months." CHAPTER XII. FISTS FLY AND THE OUTLOOK BRIGHTENS. It was a treat to see DuVal in action, provided one was on the side lines, and enjoyed a rare display of pyrotechnics. Unmistakably he knew what he wanted, and attained it at whatever cost, financially, physically, or mentally. His pictures had that elusive something variously called charm, atmosphere, personality — a smoothness, completeness, an interest-holding quality that placed them in a class of their own. Box-office patronage attested to that, and his enemies had to give him credit. Continued on page 94