Read The Moving Picture Girls; Or, First Appearances in Photo Dramas Page 8


  CHAPTER VIII

  "PAY YOUR RENT, OR----"

  Alice liked the appearance of Mr. Pertell, manager of the Comet FilmCompany, from her first glimpse of him. He seemed so sturdy, kind andwholesome. He was in his shirt sleeves, and his clothing was inalmost as much disorder as his ruffled hair. But there was a kindlygleam in his snapping eyes, and a firm look about his mouth thatshowed his character.

  "Oh, Mr. Pertell, can you spare a moment?" Russ called to him.

  "Oh, hello, Russ; is that you?" was the cordial greeting. "How is thepatent? I could use it if I had it now. Spare a minute? Yes, severalof 'em. They've spoiled that one act and it's got to be done over. Idon't see why they can't do as they're told instead of injecting alot of new business into the thing! I've got to sit still and donothing now for ten minutes while they fix that scene up over again.Go ahead, Russ--what can I do for you?"

  He sat down on an overturned box, and motioned for Russ and Alice tooccupy adjoining ones. Clearly there was not much ceremony about thismanager. He was like others Alice had observed behind the scenes inreal theatres, except that he did not appear so irascible.

  "This is Miss Alice DeVere," began Russ, "and she has come to youabout her father. He has lost his voice, and she and I think he mightfit in some of your productions, where you don't need any talking."

  "Yes, sometimes the less talking in the movies the better," agreedMr. Pertell. "But you do need acting. Can your father act, Miss?"

  "He is Hosmer DeVere," broke in Russ. "He was with the New ColumbiaTheatre Company. They were to open in 'A Matter of Friendship,' butMr. DeVere's throat trouble made him give it up."

  "Hosmer DeVere! Yes, I've heard of him, and I've seen him act. So hewants an engagement here; eh?"

  "Oh, it isn't exactly that!" interrupted Alice, eagerly. "He--hedoesn't know a thing about it yet."

  "He doesn't know about it?" repeated the manager, wonderingly.

  "No. He--I--Oh, perhaps you'd better tell him, Russ," she finished.

  "I will," Russ agreed, with a smile. And, while Alice looked at someof the other dramas being enacted before the clicking eyes of thecameras, her companion told how it had been planned to overcome theprejudice of Mr. DeVere and get him to try his art with the "movies."

  Alice was tremendously interested, and looked on with eager eyes asthe actors and actresses enacted their roles. Some of them spoke, nowand then, as their lines required it, for it has been found thatoften audiences can read the lips of the players on the screen. Butthere was no need for any loud talking--in fact, no need of any atall--whispering would have answered. Indeed some actors find thatthey can do better work without saying a word--merely using gestures.Others, who have long been identified with the legitimate drama, findit hard to break away from the habit of years and speak their linesaloud.

  "Oh, I'm sure father would like this," thought Alice. "And hewouldn't have to use his poor throat at all. I must tell him allabout it."

  She looked at two girls--they did not seem much older than herselfand Ruth, who were playing a scene in a "society" drama. They wereboth pretty, but Alice thought they were rather too flippant inmanner when out of the scene. They laughed and joked with the otheractors, and with the machine men.

  But the latter were too busy focusing their cameras, and getting allthat went on in the scenes, to pay much attention to anything else.The least slip meant the spoiling of many feet of film, and whilethis in itself was not so expensive, it often meant the making of awhole scene over again at a great cost.

  "Well," Mr. Pertell said at length, "I am greatly interested in Mr.DeVere. I know him to be a good actor, and I greatly regret hisaffliction. I think I can use him in some of these plays. Can he ridea horse--does he know anything about cowboy life, or miners?" heasked Alice.

  "Oh, I'm sure daddy wouldn't want to do any outdoor plays," the girlexclaimed. "He is so used to theatrical scenes."

  "Well, I might keep him in "parlor" drama," Mr. Pertell remarked."Please tell him to come and see me," he went on. "I would like totalk to him."

  "Thank you, so much!" returned Alice, gratefully. "I shall tell him,and--well, there's no use saying I'm sure he'll come," she went onwith a shrug of her shoulders. "It's going to be rather difficult tobreak this to him. It--it's so--different from what he has been usedto."

  "I can understand," responded Mr. Pertell. "But I think if heunderstood he would like it. Tell him to come here and see how we dothings."

  "I will!" Alice promised.

  Russ escorted her to the street, and then, as he had to see aboutsome changes in the working of his proposed patent, he bade hergood-bye. She said she would find her way home all right.

  "Well?" asked Ruth, as Alice entered the apartment a little later,"did you do anything rash?"

  "Perhaps!" Alice admitted, as she took off her hat, jabbed the pinsin it and tossed it to one chair, while she sank into another.

  "Oh, Alice! You--aren't going to be one of those--manicures; areyou?"

  "I hope not, though there are lots worse things. A manicure can bejust as much a lady as a typist. But, Ruth, I have such news for you!I have found an engagement for dad!"

  "An engagement for daddy?"

  "Yes. In the movies! Listen. Oh, it was so exciting!"

  Then, with many digressions, and in rather piece-meal manner,interrupting herself often to go back and emphasize some point shehad forgotten, Alice told of her morning trip with Russ. She enlargedon the manner in which the moving pictures were made, until Ruth grewquite excited.

  "Oh, I wish I could see how it is done!" she cried.

  "You may--when dad takes this engagement," said Alice.

  "He never will," declared her sister. "You know what he thinks of themovies."

  "But he thinks wrong!" exclaimed Alice. "It's so different from whatI thought."

  "He'll never consent," repeated Ruth. "Hark! Here he comes now.Perhaps he has found something to do."

  Footsteps were heard coming along the hallway. Alice glanced at thetable before which her sister was sitting.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  "Looking over our bills, and trying to make five dollars do the workof fifteen," answered Ruth, with a wry smile. "Money doesn't stretchwell," she added.

  Mr. DeVere came in. It needed but a look at his face to show that hehad been unsuccessful, but Ruth could not forbear asking:

  "Well, Daddy?"

  "No good news," he answered, hoarsely. "I could hardly make myselfunderstood, and there seem few places where one can labor withoutusing one's voice. I never appreciated that before."

  "But I have found a place!" cried Alice, with girlish enthusiasm. "Ihave a place for you Daddy, where you won't have to speak a word."

  "Where--where is it?" he whispered, and they both noted his pitifuleagerness.

  "In the movies!" Alice went on. "Oh, it's the nicest place! I've beenthere, and the manager----"

  "Not another word!" exclaimed Mr. DeVere. "I never would consent toacting in the moving pictures. I would not so debase my profession--aprofession honored by Shakespeare. I never would consent to it. Themovies! Never!"

  There was a knock at the door.

  "I'll see who it is," offered Ruth, with a sympathetic glance atAlice, who seemed distressed. Then, as Ruth saw who it was, she drewback. "Oh!" she exclaimed, helplessly.

  "Who is it?" asked Mr. DeVere, rising.

  "I've come for the rent!" exclaimed a rasping voice. "This is aboutthe tenth time, I guess. Have you got it?" and a burly man thrusthimself into the room from the hall.

  "The rent--Oh!" murmured Mr. DeVere, helplessly. "Let me see; have wethe rent ready, Ruth?"

  "No," she answered, with a quick glance at the table where she hadbeen going over the accounts, and where a little pile of bills lay."No, we haven't the rent--to-day."

  "And I didn't expect you'd have it," sneered the man. "But I've cometo tell you this. It's either pay your rent or----" He pausedsignificantly and nodded in the directio
n of the street.

  "Three days more--this is the final notice," and thrusting a paperinto the nerveless hand of Mr. DeVere, the collector strode out.