Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1927)

64 Film Struck "V-very slightly," Oscar stammered, confused. "It's just — just temporary, I mean." "The dickens!" Hortle stared admiringly at his old friend. "Well, I might have figured something like that," he resumed. "You got the looks and everything. You had too much get-up and gumption to stay buried in Iowa. How you makin' out?" Oscar made some feeble response. Face to face with a former home-towner, he was gripped with panic. Amos was calling him by name, shouting about La Belle, attracting the attention of the bystanders. This would never do. Somehow, in selecting Sapphire as his destination, it had not occurred to him that he would actually meet Hortle. That emergency had not moment, a knowing grin curved his lips. "Oh, I get you. You want to hand 'em all a big wallop, eh ? You'll keep your whereabouts dark until the folks see you cavortin' in a picture?" "Yes — that's it," Oscar agreed, thankful for the alibi. "All right, then. I won't give you away," Amos assured him. "I'm sure tickled to find )-ou, though, Oscar. How long you expect to be around these parts ? You must come over and see Sapphire. Greatest little town in the West, and I've looked 'em all over. Hotel, picture show, parks, electric lights, and runnin' water. Yes, sir — an up-and-coming place. "I'm considerable noise in the town myself," Hortle admitted, after his Rotarian ramble. "I'm councilman, chief of police, and High Supreme King of our local order of Yawhoos. I'm runnin' a store, too — best in the county. Makin' money. Of course, I don't suppose you'd be interested, now that the movies have got you, but just the same, if you ever get tired picture actin', I'd like to see you set up in business next door to me. I know your abilities, Oscar, and believe me, a place like the o 1 d Rosebud, with you dishin' up the grub, is just about what Sapphire could use. You The outraged animal squealed, rose up on all four feet, and descended stiff-legged with a jolt that snapped Oscar's neck and threatened to shake loose every tooth in his head. dawned upon him at all, and now that the emergency had unexpectedly arisen, Oscar sensed his peril. Probably, he figured, Amos had not yet heard the news from La Belle — the report of the trouble there and his own significant disappearance — but he no doubt soon would hear. Letters would soon be exchanged, and the whole miserable truth exposed. He saw readily enough that Sapphire, as a possible haven of refuge, must be abandoned. Moreover, he must at once get the loquacious Amos off to one side, and prevent him from clarioning too much information. He managed, without making his purpose too obvious, to lead Hortle gently away, to a spot where their conversation would not fall upon listening ears. Amos was full of questions. They deluged Oscar, but he succeeded in answering most of them without appearing too evasive. It was ticklish business, however, and once or twice he thought his companion eyed him rather suspiciously. When Amos learned that no one in La Belle knew where Oscar was, he chuckled. "It'll sure give the home-town bunch a kick when I write 'em the news," he declared. "I — I wish you wouldn't do that," Oscar protested quickly. "I don't want them to know I'm out here." "You don't?" Hortle repeated, surprised. But in a could clean up a fortune in no time. Say, it makes my mouth water to think of the stuff you used to cook and serve us. Gosh, man! The real eats! I'd part with a lot to sink my teeth into one of your pies again, and tickle my tonsils with a mug of your special brand of Java !" Oscar's heart shriveled, and sank to rock bottom. Hortle's pseans of praise and his boundless enthusiasm over the business possibilities of his adopted town, were as dirges to the former Rosebud chef — sackcloth and ashes upon his head. What a glorious opportunity to have to pass up ! The very thing he had longed for and planned to do. Happiness and prosperity within reach, yet he dared not stretch forth his hand to accept them. He knew Amos only too well. The man was quick to promise, but as sure as sunrise he would be writing back home of having seen him. And worse yet, the La Belle folks would be writing to Amos, their letters brimming over with reports of the Lester Lavender calamity. Perhaps, even now, letters were on the way. And Amos was chief of police! "I had thought some of my old business," Oscar confessed miserably, endeavoring to keep his voice normal, to assume a casual tone. "But of course — er — circumstances have come up and " "Sure, I understand," Hortle broke in. "Gettin' in