Picture-Play Magazine (Oct-Nov 1915)

The Song of a Wage Slave (METRO) By Burn Patterson Many a man has told the woman he loves when she has refused him for another that if ever she needs him she has but to call and he will come. But how many men live up to that promise? Ned Lane did. How he kept the pledge he made to Milly Hale to make any sacrifice at any time, for her sake, is told in this gripping story, based on the Metro Pictures Corporation's five-part feature picture play of the same title. The cast: Ned Lane Edmund Breese Milly Hale Helen Martin Andy Hale J. Byrnes Frank Dawson Fraunie Fraunholz l_I ELLO, Ned!" * Good evening, Andy !" The two men fell into step, as was their nightly custom, and endeavored to extricate themselves from the homeward-hound Hood of humanity which streamed through the gates of the Dawson paper mill. Men and women were chattering light-heartedly, and merry hantering was being shunted back and forth among the shopmates. As the two men got free of the human tide that surged about them, they linked their arms and continued on their way. • Ned Lane was a big, two-fisted type of man, unlettered, ignorant, and uncultured, yet a man with a purpose in life — to live decently and honestly, ready to make, if necessary, the supreme sacrifice for a brother man. Many were the tales told of his brute strength, and many were the tales told of his tenderness to those in trouble. He was honored and respected by all who knew him. Andrew Hale, on the other hand, was stooped and bent ; his hands were gnarled and twisted, and a stump of finger told the mute story of the unexpected falling of a die. The hand of time had liberally sprinkled his hair with the snow of age. As they plodded along, they discussed bits of shop gossip and other commonplace incidents which made up their daily lives, until Ned suddenly blurted out the question which was uppermost in his mind : "I want to marry Mildred, Andy.'' The eyes of the older man lighted with pleasure, and, a's he looked full into the eyes of the other, he saw the great love that this man bore for his daughter. It was not the fickle love of youth, but the true love of a great-hearted man, which comes but once in a man's life. "Ned, lad, there is no one I'd rather have my little girl marry than you. You're a real man, and the're mighty few like you in this town," replied Hale, his grip on the younger man's arm tightening. "Do you think Milly cares for me?" questioned Lane, ignoring the compliment that had been paid him. "I know she likes you mighty well, but I don't know whether or not she loves you," said Andrew. "She's been actin' kind of queer for the last three or four days, and I have always opined that when a girl acts the way my Milly has been actin' she's either in love or else thinkin' a powerful lot about some man." "Will you speak to her?" queried Ned. "I'll be up to-night to put my love to the test. If Milly accepts me, I'll be the happiest man in the world; if she refuses me — but I won't think of the prospect of a refusal. Good-by, Andy!" he concluded, as they arrived at the parting of their ways. When Andrew Hale arrived home, he found his daughter busily at work preparing the evening meal. She, too, worked in the factory, but. by taking a short cut she generally arrived home several minutes in advance of her father, who paused nightly that he might have the pleasure of a short walk and chat with Ned Lane. Mildred Hale was poor, to be sure, but the Providence that had robbed her of material wealth had endowed her with unusual beauty. There was an air of refinement about her, and the cottage which she kept for her father was the envy of nearly ever] housewife in the little community abor the big mill. Mildred looked up, as her father er tered, but in the depths of her luminoi eyes there still lingered traces of th reverie from which she had been s abruptly awakened. "What's the trouble, lassie girl ; wh; are you thinkin' about?" questione I Hale. "Oh, nothing, father," replied Mill in a voice that was soft and rich. "Milly. child, when a young girl ha the look in her eyes that you had whe I came in she's sure to be thinkin' abou somethin'. And," he finished, with merry twinkle in his eye, "I fear me yd are thinkin' of some man." "No, indeed, daddy, I am not think ing of a man," she replied, but the tell tale flush which mantled her cheeks be lied the words her lips uttered. "Ned Lane is coming up to-night.' said Hale, as he pushed back away fron the table and began to fill his pipe. "I'll be glad to see Ned," rejoinec Mildred, but there was nothing mort than a friendly interest in her words. She had scarcely finished the task ot removing the supper things and setting the room to rights, before a knock was heard at the door, followed immediately by the entrance of Ned Lane. "Good evening, Andy ; good evening Milly!" he greeted, as he entered the' room. "Have a seat. Ned." said the older man, rising, and placing a chair for his guest. "Yes, Ned, do sit down !" urged Mildred. For several minutes the three chatted T