Talking Screen (Sep-Oct 1930)

the sedan behind them and settled down in comfort. "What in hell . . .?" exploded Denis. "Drive on!" commanded the man in the front seat. "Damned if I will!" snapped Denis, who was as brave as he was surly. "What do you think this is, a public bus?" The green light had flashed on, and Denis' car was holding up traffic. The noise of many impatient horns came from behind him. "Drive on!" commanded the man in the front seat in icy tones. Denis drove on to the next block and pulled up to the curb right opposite the Roosevelt Hotel. "Now you men get out of here," he said, "or I'll call an officer!" |NE of the men in the back seat laughed harshly. Denis felt the smooth round edge of a cold instrument pressed into his side by the man next to him. "Drive us where we tell you," said the man in a low tone, "or I'll pepper you with this automatic!" Denis looked down and saw a blue-black rod stuck into his side. After a second's gaze into the eyes of the man who held it, Denis decided that they meant business and that he had better humor them. "All right," he said, "I'll play chauffeur. Where do you want to be taken "Now you're talking sense," the big man in the rear seat said. "Turn back and drive us up to Hollywoodland." Denis drove one more block to the end of Hollywood Boulevard, made a horseshoe turn and came back past die Roosevelt and Grauman's Egyptian where, as the huge advertisement read, THE STARS SEE THE PLAYS. He continued down to Vine Street, made a left turn to the north and headed for the hills. At Franklin he sped east, and after a few blocks, took When Fishbein explained why they had called hint, Kenny exclaimed angrily: "I'm going to become Hollywood's best little director on my ability, not just on some cheap trick." the main winding road to Hollywoodland, where magnificent homes dot the hilltops. "How far up these hills do you want to go?" demanded Denis. "Keep going!" said the man in the front seat. "We want to look at the scenery." IT WAS really too bad they weren't interested in scenery, for as Denis' car took the slowly curving road upward, a magnificent panorama spread out before them. Los Angeles was at their feet, stretching out sixteen miles to the clearly visible Pacific. Holly\v'Ood was on their right, ending in the picniresque Hollywood mountains, and on their left was the fertile and heavily populated San Fernando Valley with its numerous airports. The men in the back seat were not mterested in panoramas. Each had taken his rod from the holster strap under his arm, and was toying with the trigger. At length Denis came to the top of Hollywoodland, and the end of the road. An artificial plateau had been leveled off at enormous expense by one of Hollywood's greatest movie magnates, with the purpose of building an estate that would overlook entire Southern California. But the magnate had gone the way of all movie flesh — broke — and now the mountain top was lonely and abandoned. Denis stopped his car near the edge of the cliff and asked, "Well, what do you want me to do now?" The man in the front seat got out and closed the door behind him. "All right, boys," he said, "get it over with." THE following morning the actors, actresses and electricians assembled on the Cosmic Studios lot, eager to continue work. But Harlin Denis did not show up. Everyone sat around and waited. At eleven o'clock Fishbein became impatient and telephoned Denis' house. He was informed by the Japanese servant that Denis had not come home the night before, and that he had probably been on a part)-. Fishbein cursed Denis and everyone sat down again to smoke some more cigarettes. By two in the afternoon they were all quarrelling among themselves and Fishbein was ready to fire Denis. Joyce Joy suddenly had an inspiration. "Kenny, darling," she exclaimed, "why don't you make Fishbein give you the director's job? I just heard him say that he was ready to fire Denis !" "A grand idea," said Kenny, "if I can catch Fishbein while he's hot, maybe he'll hand me the megaphone. Come on, baby!" They sought out Fishbein, who was walking up and down muttering something about ". . . waste my money, will he? Eleven hundred a day expenses and he thinks he can stay away! I'll show him!" "Mr. Fishbein," said Kenny excitedly, "why don't you give me my big chance on this picture? You know I'm one of Hollywood's coming directors. Why don't you take the credit of discovering mc?" "That's right, Mr. Fishbein," chimed in Joyce, "Kenny is the boy who can make a real show out of this job. Why, if you let him direct it we'll have a talkie that'll run six months at the Grand Theatre in New York!" Fishbein sneered. "You, a director! Why, you're only a kid. I've got grandchildren at home as direct?" "Well, old you ! What did you ever made that talkie ccrcdy for tin. 26