CHAPTER XVII
A PROMISE
"Now then, are we all ready?" asked Mr. Pertell. He looked about thestudio, at the groups of actors and actresses, at the cameramen--particularly at Russ. "Everybody here?" he went on.
"All here," replied Pop Snooks, checking off a list he held.
"How about your props?"
"Nothing missing, not even the firecracker Miss Alice sets off underthe chair of the false count," replied the property man.
"Good! I don't want any failure at the last minute. Now, Russ, how isthe camera working?"
"Fine, sir."
"Good fresh film?"
"Fresh to-day, Mr. Pertell--just like new-laid eggs."
"All right. You may have a chance to snap some newly laid eggs if myfuture plans work out all right. Well, I guess we'll begin. Take yourplaces for the first scene."
"Oh, I'm so nervous!" confided Ruth to Alice.
"Silly! You needn't be!" was the response. "You're just perfect inyour part. I only wish I was as sure of myself."
"Why, you're great, Alice!" said her sister. "Only you do such funnythings--it makes me laugh, and I'm afraid I'll smile in the wrongplace--when I'm being made love to, for instance."
"Well, it's a funny part, and I have to act funny," insisted theyounger girl. "But I wish it was all over, and on the films. It'sbeen a little harder than I thought it would be."
"Indeed it has. But papa was so good to rehearse us. Now we must be acredit to him."
"Oh, of course. Come on, the others are ready."
It was not without a feeling of nervousness that Ruth and Aliceprepared to take their places in the actual depiction of the newplay. The rehearsals had not been so trying; but now, when thephotographs were to be made, there was a strain on all.
For in making moving pictures mistakes are worse than on the realstage. There, when one is speaking, one can correct a false line, orturn it so that the audience does not notice the "break."
But in the movies a false move, a wrong gesture, is at once indeliblyregistered on the film, to reappear greatly magnified. And thoughsometimes the incorrect part of the film can be cut out, mistakes aregenerally costly.
"Are you all ready?" asked Mr. Pertell again, as he stood with watchin hand beside Russ at the camera, while the actors and actressestook their places in the first scene.
"All ready," answered Mr. Harrison, who was one of the principalcharacters.
"Then--go!" cried the manager, and Russ was about to turn theoperating handle.
"Vait! Vait a minute. Holt on!" cried the voice of Mr. Switzer."Don't shoot yet alretty!" and he held up a restraining hand.
"Oh, what's the matter now?" demanded Mr. Pertell, with a gesture ofannoyance.
"Vun of mine shoes--he iss unloose, und der lacing isdingle-dangling. It might trip me!" explained the good-natured Germanactor, in all seriousness.
"Well, fix it, and hurry up!" cried the manager, unable to repress asmile.
"Yah! I tie her goot und strong," he said, and soon this was done.
"Now then--all ready?" asked Mr. Pertell once more.
This time there was no delay, and the clicking of the camera washeard as Russ turned the handle. Mr. DeVere and his two daughterswere not in this first scene, so it gave the girls a chance to losesome of their nervousness--or "stage fright." As for Mr. DeVere, hewas too much of a veteran actor to mind this. Besides, he had playedmany parts before the camera now.
Mr. Pertell stood with watch in hand, timing the performance. For theplay must be gotten on a certain length of film, and if one scene ranover its allotted time it might spoil the next one by curtailing theaction.
"Hurry a little with that," ordered the manager sharply, at a certainpoint. "Don't 'screen' the letter too long, and skip part of thatleave-taking. That eats up far too much celluloid."
Accordingly some parts, not essential to the play, were "cut" toshorten the time. Russ went on turning the crank, getting hundreds ofthe tiny pictures that afterward would be magnified, and thrown onthe screen in dozens of moving picture playhouses, for the CometCompany supplied a large "circuit."
"Now then, Mr. DeVere, it's time for you to come on," the managersaid. "And then your daughters."
"Oh, I know I'm going to be nervous!" murmured Ruth.
"No you won't," spoke Russ, encouragingly. She stood near him, andflashed him a grateful look. "I'll be watching you," he said, "and ifI see anything wrong I'll stop in an instant, so we won't spoil anyfilm."
"That's good of you," she replied. "Come on, Alice."
"All right! Oh, I just know it's going to be splendid!" her sisterexclaimed. There was the flush of excitement on her cheeks, andthough she would not admit, Alice, too, was nervous. So much, shefelt, depended on this first real play--so much for herself and hersister. It was thrilling to feel that they might be able to make acomfortable living through the medium of the movies.
"All ready now, Russ, for this scene," called the manager, indicatingthe one where Ruth and Alice were to appear. "Watch your registerclosely."
"Yes, sir."
The play went on. Ruth took her part first, and the little drama wasenacted. Her father, who was in the scene with her, smiledencouragement, and Russ nodded gaily as he continued to turn theclicking camera.
"Now, Miss Alice!" called the manager. "Here's where you come in.Come smiling!"
It was hardly necessary to tell Alice this, for she generally had asmile on her face. Nor was it lacking this time.
She began her part, but in an instant the manager called:
"Wait. Hold on a minute!"
The clicking of the camera ceased instantly.
"Oh, have I done something wrong?" thought Alice, her heart beatingviolently.
"Cut out what's been done so far," ordered the manager to Russ. "Itwill have to be done over."
"Yes, sir," answered the operator, as he noted from the automaticregister at the side of the camera how many feet of film had been runon the new scene. Then, when it came to be developed, it could beeliminated. The figures also showed how much of the thousand-footreel was left for succeeding scenes.
Everyone was a little nervous, fearing he or she had made thetrouble, but all were reassured a moment later, when the managersaid:
"I think it will be a little more effective if Miss Alice makes herentrance from the other side. It brings her out better. Try it thatway once, and then, if it goes, film it, Russ."
The benefit of the change was at once apparent, and after a moment ofrehearsal it was decided on. Again the camera began its clicking andeveryone breathed freely once more, Alice most of all, for failurewould have meant so much to her.
"Very good--very good," spoke the manager encouragingly, as the playdeveloped.
Alice and Ruth had rather difficult parts, and in one scene they heldthe stage alone, "plotting" to disclose the false count. It was inthis scene that Alice had some effective work along comedy lines.
It seemed to go off very well--at least, as far as the girls couldtell. Alice, as a rather hoydenish school girl, home for the summer,played havoc with the admirers of the romantic Ruth, who seemed tofill the role to perfection.
"You're doing well, little girl," whispered Paul to Alice, when shestepped out of the scene for a moment, while another part of the playwent on.
"Do you really mean it?" she asked him.
"I certainly do. Say, you've got the other two guessing, all right."
"What other two?"
"Miss Pennington and Miss Dixon."
"Oh, I'm so sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"I mean, I don't want them to dislike me," returned Alice.
"Oh, don't worry about that, little girl. They don't like anyone whocan do better than themselves. But they're the only ones. The rest ofus like you!"
"Really?"
"Well I should say!" and there was more energy in the words than wasactually necessary. Alice blushed, but looked pleased.
"Very good!" ob
served the manager, after an effective scene in whichAlice and Ruth took part. "You are doing excellent work. If this playis a hit I'll star you two in something more elaborate next week."
"Will you, really?" asked Ruth, as she came out of the scene.
"I really will," answered Mr. Pertell. "That's a promise!"