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RADIO MIRROR
The Beautiful Stooge
{Continued frovt page 20)
hand was up-raised.
"We got it" he said, meaning the network was now linked with that particular studio.
Then, quietly, he turned to his microphone.
"Consolidated presents Toby Malone, himself, with Gene Lottman's orchestra."
The conductor's baton swept down and music filled the studio. The. program was on the air.
In three minutes Toby knew he'd be on the air! This was even worse than an audition. All his friends would be listening. All the critics would be listening. .\ million people would be listening—and he hadn't even got a smile out of a single musician, when he'd rehearsed his jokes. Then he lost his fear. He'd show them. The music began to do things to him. He grinned at Lottman and Lottman, over his waving arms, grinned back.
Suddenly there was dead silence. Toby felt a gentle push. Margy was beside him, shoving him toward the microphone and Merriman in the control room was making frantic signals.
M
fASON finished a brief announcement and swung around to look anxiously at Toby. Mason knew the comedian was terribly nervous and he'd seen some strange things happen when stage folks made their radio debuts.
Toby thought for a moment he wouldn't be able to speak. Margy's arm went around his waist. She almost cuddled up to him and then she spoke. After that it was easy.
Toby heard a subdued snicker from a musician. Then there was an unexpected roar of laughter from the orchestra. This hadn't been rehearsed! It was the real stuff! Toby hadn't seen Merriman, the production man, signal the musicians to laugh at the right time.
His six minutes at the mike ended before he realized it and when he came back for his second comedy spot, Toby had become a radio performer. It happens like that!
The newspaper critics weren't unkind to Toby. Some of them liked him, though two referred to him as 'just another comedian'. Broadway friends told him he was terrific and let it go at that.
The day after his broadcast, Toby
went by the studios and tried to be
casual when he asked if there were any
' letters for him. He wasn't a bit casual
when he was told there were not.
"But fan mail" he said. "I was on the air last night."
"Oh" the hostess said. "You won't get your audience mail for a couple of days."
Toby came back Monday.
"Mail for you," said the hostess. She smiled pleasantly and handed Toby a small pack of letters. He counted them before he realized what he was doing. There were fourteen.
The hostess noticed he was disappointed.
"Not bad for a first broadcast," she said.
"But," Toby said. "I thought radio artists got thousands of letters after every broadcast."
The girl at the desk laughed.
"They'd like you to believe that," she said. "Matter of fact, unless there is some free premium offer or something to attract mail, there aren't so many letters. You'll get more after you've been on the air awhile — but don't expect thousands until you have a sponsor who wants to give away an automobile."
Toby took the fourteen letters into a quiet corner and read them. Five of them requested either a photograph or an autograph or both. Two were from almost forgotten friends who had heard him on the air and wanted him to get them auditions. The rest, with one exception, said they liked his program. The one exception declared in no uncertain terms that he was awful and should be barred from the air.
Four weeks later Toby was receiving more than a hundred letters after each broadcast.
"You're picking up an audience," David Mason said during a rehearsal.
"Just give me time," said Toby, who had been just a little more sure of himself since the arrival of a hundred letters all at once. I've got the stuff and it's just a matter of time before we get a big sponsor.
Professor Gus had been looking over the letters.
"They think well of Margy, don't they?" he commented.
Toby glanced at him.
"Huh?"
"More than half these letters are raves about Mrs. Toots," Gus continued.
Margy wasn't in the studio at the moment.
"#^H, the kid is good," Toby said ^"^ wisely. "Of course, I got her when she didn't have any training at all, so I was able to teach her things the right way. She's a pretty good stooge.
"She's good all right," David Mason said, nodding thoughtfully. "So good that Ray Greet wants to use her."
Toby looked at him sharply.
"Who is this guy, Greet? What does he want with her?"
"He directs the Studio Guild. They do the good plays every Thursday night," Mason explained. "He thinks Margy is a natural actress and he plans to use her in the very near future."
"He'd better talk to me about it," Toby said seriously. He frowned. It hadn't occurred to him that Margy might find other jobs.
"Have you got Margy under contract?"
"Oh sure," said Toby. Then he remembered he hadn't.
Margy appeared suddenly. She was smiling, flushed and excited.
"Toby," she called as she ran across
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