Reel Life (1915-1916)

“ The Seventh Noon” — Masterpicture A Drama of Today in Five Acts, Replete with Action. Adapted from the Work of the Same Name by Frederick Orin Bartlett. Featuring Ernest Glendinning. Released November 4, 1915 A HANDSOME young man entered the Cafe Rose Noire and seated himself at just the right distance from the music. He was faultlessly dressed, and his glance, far from being blase, roamed pleasurably over the brilliant company. No one looking at Peter Donaldson, would have guessed his secret nor divined the tragedy there. For Donaldson had just seven days, minus seven hours, left to live — and he knew it. For six years, the young barrister had been struggling to maintain himself in the law and use his talents on the side of justice. The big fees had all gone to his opponents. At last, his savings nearly exhausted, he had determined to end it all. A visit that morning to the laboratory of Barstow, the chemist, unexpectedly had furnished him with the means. He found his old friend just completing an experiment with a slowworking but painless poison of his own invention. The dog, which Barstow had victimized, dropped dead before Donaldson s eyes exactly at the end of the seventh day to the minute from the time the chemist had administered the poison. Secretly helping himself to a phial of the fluid, Donaldson hurried back to his room. At precisely twelve, noon, pledging his own ghostly reflection in the mirror, the young lawyer had drained the toast of death. Then there rushed over him a feverish desire to live those remaining seven days to the full. He had hastened to the bank and drawn out his small capital. And that evening found him at Cafe Rose Noire, every sense quickened, and all his faculties on the alert for possible adventure. A rustle of silk, the caress of a feather scarf fluttering back against Donaldson’s arm, and his attention was called to a young woman who, with her companion, was taking her place at the table next his. The girl’s face was anxious. Soon Donaldson could not help noticing the strange, nervous actions of the young man opposite her. His agitation increased, and presently at his insistence, the couple rose and hurried from the cafe. Donaldson followed. He was just in time to see the strange young man dismiss the chauffeur, force the young woman into the car, and leaping into the driver’s place, let out the high-powered machine at full speed. Donaldson jumped onto the running board. At last he succeeded in overmastering the madman at the wheel, who limply collapsed. Then Ellen Arsdale told her deliverer the truth — Ben, her brother, was suffering from the curse of several generations of Arsdales, opium. That night, Ben Arsdale disappeared. The home of Ruth Chester, a neighbor of Ellen’s, was robbed and a handkerchief marked “B. A.” threw suspicion on young Arsdale. The following day, Ellen and Donaldson— who had now pledged himself to the cause of the helpless girl— drove out to the Arsdale country house, hoping that there they might find the fugitive. Two days after this fruitless expedition, a note from Ellen informed Donaldson that Ren had been home, helped himself to all the money in the house, and had again disappeared. He had muttered something, however, about “Wum’s place.” This was enough. Donaldson lost no time in hurrying down to a famous den in Chinatown, where his intimacy with Police Inspector Saule was the young lawyer’s open sesame. There he found Ben stupefied with drug. Donaldson dragged him bodily out of the hole and carried him to his hotel. Then he dressed and went to see Ben’s sister. Alone that evening with Ellen, it suddenly came over Donaldson how much he loved her. In the very act of telling her so, the recollection that death awaited him at the seventh noon, caused him to rush out of the house. At a loss to explain his strange conduct, Ellen heard' with a confusion of emotions next morning the news that officers, bent on arresting Ben Arsdale, had been intercepted the night before by Donaldson, who confessed to the Chester robbery and gave himself over to the police. Some days later, Inspector Saule waited upon Ellen with a note from the prisoner. Ellen’s housekeeper, Marie, overhearing the inspector givehis name to the maid, fled to the attic where her son, Jacques, was in hiding. Confident that Saule had come to arrest him, the young crook attempted to flee the house, but, in the lower hall, ran straight into the arms of his enemies. Saule, searching Jacques, drew forth part of the Chester jewels. That same hour Donaldson found himself a free man. Almost crazed with remorse at his suicidal act, he rushed to Barstozn/s laboratory. As a last, .possible hope, his chemist friend might know some antidote. Then, from under a settle in the anteroom crawled a familiar little black dog. Donaldson stared wildly at the animal as Barstow entered. “No, the poison was ineffective,” he said. “I doubt whether it would even put a man to sleep.” “Give me that dog !” cried Ellen’s lover. “It has taught me the value of life.” Peter Donaldson Ernest Glendinning Ellen Arsdale Winifred Kingston Ben, her brother George Le Goure Marie, the housekeeper Julia Blanc Jacques, her son Everett Butterfield Professor Barstow A. J. Robinson Ruth Chester Glida Leary Police Inspector Saule W. T. Clark The Officers, Bent on Arresting Ben, Had Been Intercepted by Donaldson, Who Confessed to the Chester Robbery REEL LIFE — Page Five