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THE SIGN OF THE BOSS 139 He had been away from the DeMille party two days when DeMille inquired as to his whereabouts. "You remember, Mr. DeMille, his father just died/' The boss glared at his informant, "His is not the only father who ever died. We'll all pray for the good man but there's nothing he can do for him now, and there is something he can do for ten million dollars' worth of motion picture. Please con- vey that message to him." The message was so conveyed, and the assistant caught the next train for Philadelphia, with the dedication of a martyr serv- ing a secular cause. The cluster of DeMille aides widened—a field secretary, a script girl and one or two first-assistant directors who shuttled between him and numerous "field" assistants. They added to the difficulty of reaching the ear of the producer at a critical moment. The microphone boy probably suffered most from this press. No signals were given; he had to be not only alert but intuitive, poising the microphone in front of the producer s face at just the precise moment of utterance. A long microphone cord trailed this harassed functionary. At times it tangled with chairs or stools, often when the producer was bellowing like a wounded lion for the mike. But it was the chair boy who caught the popular eye. Some wagers were made on the expectancy of his failure to place the chair under DeMille when the latter took an unannounced notion to sit down. It was the late DeWolf Hopper who ex- pressed a longing in the breasts of many a friend and adversary: In five years this gentleman has sat whenever the spirit moved him and never looked behind nor hesitated, secure in the knowledge that the menial was there with a chair in position. I have lived these five years in the impious hope that this shadow might some day be visited with a momen- tary lapse and the famous director sit unexpectedly and violently upon the floor.