Screenland (Nov 1939–Apr 1940)

Ann Sheridan, who finds crocheting the ideal form of relaxation, discards her "Oomph" for a crochet hook and some yarn. crawling towards a water hole. And so well did she play her part that it was Jim who suggested they land so she could get some better pictures. There were so many shots she wanted to take and Jim followed her indulgently as she walked farther and farther away from the plane until at last she sank exhausted on the ledge of a high plateau. Still she kept up the pretence, rewinding her camera as she lay beside him in the tall grass. Suddenly Jim leaned over and took it away from her, his eyes hardening as he looked at the dial on one side of it. "How long since you ran out of film?" he asked. She had to tell the truth. There was something about Jim that commanded honesty. "About an hour ago," and then in quick apology, "you'd have made us start back if I didn't have an excuse to stay." "It isn't my fascinating company?" Jim asked grimly, and then as she didn't answer, "that's what I thought." Linda's fury rose to meet his. "All right," she challenged him, "I've been using you! You don't mind., do you?" "So that's the idea ! To make the Baron jealous. I don't like it, Linda. We don't use traps in my business." "Look here," Linda rose to her feet in quick fury. "There's no reason to be insufferable just because — " "Because you played me for a sucker?" Jim interrupted. "I don't deny it." Linda flung the words at him. "You do a lot of fancy talking, fine big words about liberty and freedom. Well, I'm after my freedom too !" "Freedom in chinchilla?" he asked, his sarcasm cutting his voice. "It's as warm as flannel and much more comfortable !" Linda tried to laugh. "Charles is what I want and I'm what he wants, too, and I'm going to make him realize it !" "All you want is a soft bed and thick carpets on the floor." "I've had bare floors and worn-out beds," she followed as he started walking furiously in the direction of the plane. "Not that it's any of your business." "You've done pretty well for yourself," he said bitterly. "I have !" Linda gasped in her efforts to keep up with his long strides. "And I've done it by myself. Alone. Listen, my lofty friend, you know what you want clear enough. So go find yourself a place to crack up. Find yourself a splash of blood on somebody's else's battlefield. No one's stopping you." She stood shocked into silence as the sudden thunder sounded through the wilderness. Even thunder was more primitive, more fearful in the jungle. Jim took her hand and ran towards the plane pulling her with him. It was only after he had helped her in that he spoke again. "There's one question I'd like to ask. Suppose I were in love with you myself?" Linda was amazed at the excitement that swept through her. Then she saw his eyes, hard as they looked at her, his mouth bitter as he waited for her answer. "But that's absurd," she said. "Don't get panicky, I'm not!" he answered her. "But suppose I were. You'd be playing two dirty tricks instead of one. One on the Baron and one on me. How tough are you? Would you have gone ahead?" "Is that what you think?" she asked levelly. "All right, then. That's it." She quailed before the rain striking Dorothy Lamour has taken up crocheting because it rests her nerves. No, that's not a sarong she's making — it's a blouse. from the sky, rain that crashed like a giant waterfall, and with it came the quick dark of the African night. Jim turned to her. "You wanted to make him jealous, didn't you? Well, he'll be twice as jealous when we don't show up until morning." "But we said we'd be back for dinner," Linda faltered. "Charles will — " "I'm not thinking about Charles. I'm thinking about my plane. She's all the chinchilla I've got." "Jim," Linda was trembling now, her voice husky. "I got us into this, I'm terribly sorry." "It's all right." The man's voice was strained. "If you love the guy, I don't blame you." Linda's tears came then, smarting behind her eyelids and tangling in her voice as she spoke. "That's what makes me feel so dreadful," she said. "If I loved him, I wouldn't be here, would I ?" They waited tensely through the night and then with the dawn the rain stopped and they soared to the skies again. De Courland was waiting for them as they swooped over the compound but Jim ignored him as he turned to Wemba who was running towards him, his face distorted in agony. It was about Happy, the boy explained, his eyes lifted to Jim as if he expected he could perform a miracle. The Baron had taken him hunting the day before and sent him into the brush after a wounded leopard. And the boy had not returned. Jim left and when he came back he carried the small black body in his arms and behind him came two natives with the leopard. "Happy finished your job, Baron," he said. "There's your leopard. I hope it's worth it to you." Linda ran after him as he stalked away. "He's dead !" Her voice came appalled. "I can't tell you how bitterly sorry I am." "It wouldn't have happened if I'd been here." Jim said roughly. "I wouldn't have allowed the Baron to send one of my boys to certain death." And he looked at her as if he hated her as the death drums began and the chants for the peace of the boy's soul swelled with the torn toms. Louder and louder they came, the drums and the harsh mourning voices, accusing her, tearing at her so that when the Baron suddenly decided to leave on a lion hunt she begged him to allow her to go too. Jim checked her gun and gave it to her without a word. Only the drums sounded as they started off, closing in on them, even drowning out the shot from de Courland's gun as he aimed at the lion Jim had sighted. He missed, and the wounded animal turned a fantastic somersault before he vanished in the brush. "What are your orders?" De Courland turned mockingly to Jim. "Shall I go in after him?" "That's my job," Jim said bitterly. Linda called to him but he did not heed her. He plunged into the brush and as Linda waited the world stopped and began again only when he came back, his arm bleeding from the gash in his shoulder. "The boys will bring in the lion," he said shortly as he stalked away. Linda couldn't help hearing the furious argument in the Baron's cabin. "You wanted me to come out like Happy did!" Jim was saying. "Wouldn't it have been easier to take a shot at me when my back was turned? We're not hunting any more, Baron de Courland and we will be leaving this place in the morning." Carmen Miranda, the Brazilian Bombshell who'll appear in "The South American Way," is proud of the afghan she has crocheted. 78