Screenland (May-Oct 1931)

108 SCREENL AND Buddy is a Big Boy Now Continued from page 53 just where I stand. But I'm trying. And we'll see what happens." That's the way Buddy tells his comeback story. He's as utterly sincere as he always has been. He's the soul of honesty. And he's frankness personified. After all, why not? He has nothing to hide. He's a clean kid, doing clean things. The biggest scandal in his life occurred several years ago — and I hope you'll pardon me if I spill it now, Buddy. I've kept your dark, dark secret confidence for years. I'm sure now that the sins of your youth won't follow you. And let's both be gentlemen and not mention her name ! Well, anyhow, here it is ! There's a star in Hollywood who rolls her own and picks her own. If she sees a lad she likes, she'll 'phone a self-introduction. She's only a kid, and it's all okay the way she figures. But anyway, she has the reputation of being — say — flighty. One evening Buddy's phone rang, and the lissome blonde in question asked our Mr. Rogers if he'd escort her to a party. And — shhh — any one listening ? — Buddy did so ! No, nothing happened — so maybe you're fooled. But the kid just got to thinking it over afterwards and decided it wasn't the thing to do. He was a little ashamed of it — like he is about cigarettes and cocktails. He hasn't done it again ! Now that's the worst I know about Buddy. Why should a kid like that be penalized? Just because he's on the square? Just because the scent of newmown hay still clings a little to him? Would you have him travel the road of Wally Reid? Or drink himself out of opportunity like that likeable chump Jimmy Murray? Must he be a philanderer? A stay-out-all-night? Well, then! "Who're you going with now ?" I asked Rogers. "Well, sir, just about the same bunch. No rest! Charlie Ruggles was loafing about his country home when he was called to the Coast for another picture. Oh, well.' Half a loaf, etc. I haven't seen Charlie Farrell much since he got married to Virginia — but then, we've been passing one another on the sea. I see Richard Arlen, and then I have that same crowd of friends — -fraternity brothers — that I've always had." "What about the gals, Buddy?" "Just June and Mary — that's about all," he replied, meaning June Collyer and Mary Brian — and now June has gone and got married on him. "What about the future?" That seemed the next query. "Well, sir, I don't know. I really don't. If I don't make out in the movies, I think I'll lead an orchestra. You know I like that work. That's what I would have done if I hadn't turned actor. That's what I intended to do when I left school. Maybe I will yet. I've had offers. But there are some months of picture contract left yet. And then — well — we'll see." I asked the new, grown-up Buddy what he'd like to say to Screenland Magazine readers. "Will you please thank them all for me," he said. "I certainly appreciate the way the girls and boys have stood by me. I certainly appreciate their loyalty." He picked up a sheaf of fan letters from a near-by table, and riffled them over. "I take these to heart," he continued, "lots of 'em contain good advice. I credit my fan friends with having helped me to find myself — to snap out of the Fool's Paradise in which I'd been living. They told me where I was wrong — and I followed their advice. "Just tell your readers that I thank them — and all the young folk — for their support. Tell them, too, that I'm trying hard to merit it — and to give them the kind of pictures they want from me." And so I said good-bye to Buddy Rogers, feeling more than ever that he's a chap sisters would like their brothers to pal with — a fellow whom brothers would approve as their sisters' escort. Things being what they are, it seems to me that the movies — and the nation — could stand a lot more like Buddy. But, then, maybe I'm wrong! Boilgllt — Continued from page 33 a child. Stephany could not help overhearing their talk. "Just stopped off to yell congratulations!" It was Miss Ransome's voice. "Just wait till you see her." Charles really seemed proud. "I've been hearing about that girl's good looks ever since she was old enough to have them." Charles was puzzled. "How's that ?" "A former nurse of mine lived in the same house. Whenever she came to see us, she'd rave about Stephany Dale." "Same house? That's funny." "I suppose they were wretchedly poor," Natalie continued. "I know the mother sewed." When Natalie had driven off, Charles stood a while looking after her, and then walked into the house thoughtfully. Stephany was waiting for him in the breakfast room. "I've been talking to Natalie," he began. "Oh, yes ? I almost feel as though I know her. Her old nurse roomed at our house." "Stephany — I didn't know you had to work." "Father's pension was about one hundred dollars in American money. And, dear — my father and mother weren't married— since you're interested in the family." "What?" "Does it matter?" "Of course it matters," he said firmly. "My dear girl, what are the papers to say in connection with our marriage — the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Whom — " "The daughter of the late Mrs. Stephen Dale," Stephany answered calmly. "Probably a made-up name." "Probably." "Stephany — I couldn't — I can't marry — " "Of course you couldn't, Charles.'" She slipped the ring into the palm of his hand. "What difference does it make if a man no better than you or I— good-bye, Charles." "Listen, Stephany !" He sprang from his chair and took her hand. It occurred to him suddenly that perhaps he did not need to lose her after all. "You'd be crazy to ditch me. Think of all I can do for you. Anyway, I want you, darling." "Really?" "Let's go to Paris. We can avoid all the complications. What's the difference if we aren't married? I'll give you everything— " Stephany stepped back and smiled. Then she slapped him sharply across the face. "That's the first vulgar thing I've ever allowed myself to do." TlTHAT happened was just what SteVV phany needed to make her realize that the few friends she had before she met Carter were now terribly important to her. She tried to reach Meyer by telephone, but he was in Europe. She succeeded in seeing Nicky after a few days, however. She had to tell him what happened between her and Charles. She had hoped Nicky would understand. All he could say was : "You said you didn't love him. Love would at least have been an excuse. You sold yourself for money — position!" He was bitter about it. And it hurt her more because what he said had some truth in it. "I think you'd better go, then, Nicky," she told him. Stephany moved to cheaper quarters and found a job in a book store. It did not pay as much money, but she had lost all interest in clothes, somehow. And she wanted more than anything else to be quiet. She only wished she could see Meyer. He had been a real friend. Months dragged by. In a way she was happy. She had put that other life definitely behind her. There were a few friends she could still see — and there were always books to read. When she had given up all hope of ever seeing Meyer again, she received a package of books from him. She called his house at once and