"Oh, I knew it; didn"t I tell you so?"
"But, listen--does he know he"s funny?"
"Not in a thousand years! He doesn"t know anything"s funny, near as I can make him."
They were out in the light again, walking slowly back to the Buckeye offices.
"Get this," said Baird seriously. "You may think I"m kidding, but only yesterday I was trying to think if I couldn"t dig up some guy that looked more like Parmalee than Parmalee himself does--just enough more to get the laugh, see? And you spring this lad on me. All he needs is the eyebrows worked up a little bit. But how about him--will he handle?
Because if he will I"ll use him in the new five-reeler."
"Will he handle?" Miss Montague echoed the words with deep emphasis.
"Leave him to me. He"s got to handle. I already got twenty-five bucks invested in his screen career. And, Jeff, he"ll be easy to work, except he don"t know he"s funny. If he found out he was, it might queer him--see what I mean? He"s one of that kind--you can tell it. How will you use him? He could never do Buckeye stuff."
"Sure not. But ain"t I told you? In this new piece Jack is stage struck and gets a job as valet to a ham that"s just about Parmalee"s type, and we show Parmalee acting in the screen, but all straight stuff, you understand. Unless he"s a wise guy he"ll go all through the piece and never get on that it"s funny. See, his part"s dead straight and serious in a regular drama, and the less he thinks he"s funny the bigger scream he"ll be. He"s got to be Harold Parmalee acting right out, all over the set, as serious as the lumbago--get what I mean?"
"I got you," said the girl, "and you"ll get him to-morrow morning. I told him to be over with his stills. And he"ll be serious all the time, make no mistake there. He"s no wise guy. And one thing, Jeff, he"s as innocent as a cup--custard, so you"ll have to keep that bunch of Buckeye roughnecks from riding him. I can tell you that much. Once they started kidding him, it would be all off."
"And, besides--" She hesitated briefly. "Somehow I don"t want him kidded. I"m pretty hard-boiled, but he sort of made me feel like a fifty-year-old mother watching her only boy go out into the rough world.
See?"
"I"ll watch out for that," said Baird.
CHAPTER XII. ALIAS HAROLD PARMALEE
Merton Gill awoke to the comforting realization that he was between sheets instead of blankets, and that this morning he need not obscurely leave his room by means of a window. As he dressed, however, certain misgivings, to which he had been immune the day before, gnawed into his optimism. He was sober now. The sheer intoxication of food after fasting, of friendly concern after so long a period when no one had spoken him kindly or otherwise, had evaporated. He felt the depression following success.
He had been rescued from death by starvation, but had anything more than this come about? Had he not fed upon the charity of a strange girl, taking her money without seeing ways to discharge the debt? How could he ever discharge it? Probably before this she had begun to think of him as a cheat. She had asked him to come to the lot, but had been vague as to the purpose. Probably his ordeal of struggle and sacrifice was not yet over. At any rate, he must find a job that would let him pay back the borrowed twenty-five dollars.
He would meet her as she had requested, a.s.sure her of his honest intentions, and then seek for work. He would try all the emporiums in Hollywood. They were numerous and some one of them would need the services of an experienced a.s.sistant. This plan of endeavour crystallized as he made his way to the Holden lot. He had brought his package of stills, but only because the girl had insisted on seeing them.
The Countess made nothing of letting him in. She had missed him, she said, for what seemed like months, and was glad to hear that he now had something definite in view, because the picture game was mighty uncertain and it was only the lucky few nowadays that could see something definite. He did not confide to her that the definite something now within his view would demand his presence at some distance from her friendly self.
He approached the entrance to Stage Five with head bent in calculation, and not until he heard her voice did he glance up to observe that the Montague girl was dancing from pleasure, it would seem, at merely beholding him. She seized both his hands in her strong grasp and revolved him at the centre of a circle she danced. Then she held him off while her eyes took in the details of his restoration.
"Well, well, well! That shows what a few ham and eggs and sleep will do. Kid, you gross a million at this minute. New suit, new shoes, snappy cravat right from the Men"s Quality Shop, and all shaved and combed slick and everything! Say--and I was afraid maybe you wouldn"t show."
He regarded her earnestly. "Oh, I would have come back, all right; I"d never forget that twenty-five dollars I owe you; and you"ll get it all back, only it may take a little time. I thought I"d see you for a minute, then go out and find a job--you know, a regular job in a store."
"Nothing of the sort, old Trouper!" She danced again about him, both his hands in hers, which annoyed him because it was rather loud public behaviour, though he forgave her in the light of youth and kindliness.
"No regular job for you, old Pippin--nothing but acting all over the place--real acting that people come miles to see."
"Do you think I can really get a part?" Perhaps the creature had something definite in view for him.
"Sure you can get a part! Yesterday morning I simply walked into a part for you. Come along over to the office with me. Goody--I see you brought the stills. I"ll take a peek at "em myself before Baird gets here."
"Baird? Not the Buckeye comedy man?" He was chilled by a sudden fear.
"Yes, Jeff Baird. You see he is going to do some five--reelers and this first one has a part that might do for you. At least, I told him some things about you, and he thinks you can get away with it."
He went moodily at her side, thinking swift thoughts. It seemed ungracious to tell her of his loathing for the Buckeye comedies, those blasphemous caricatures of worth-while screen art. It would not be fair.
And perhaps here was a quick way to discharge his debt and be free of obligation to the girl. Of course he would always feel a warm grat.i.tude for her trusting kindness, but when he no longer owed her money he could choose his own line of work. Rather bondage to some Hollywood Gashwiler than clowning in Baird"s infamies!
"Well, I"ll try anything he gives me," he said at last, striving for the enthusiasm he could not feel.
"You"ll go big, too," said the girl. "Believe, me Kid, you"ll go grand."
In Baird"s offices he sat at the desk and excitedly undid the package of stills. "We"ll give "em the once-over before he comes," she said, and was presently exclaiming with delight at the art study of Clifford Armytage in evening dress, two straight fingers pressing the left temple, the face in three-quarter view.
"Well, now, if that ain"t Harold Parmalee to the life! If it wasn"t for that Clifford Armytage signed under it, you"d had me guessing. I knew yesterday you looked like him, but I didn"t dream it would be as much like him as this picture is. Say, we won"t show Baird this at first.
We"ll let him size you up and see if your face don"t remind him of Parmalee right away. Then we"ll show him this and it"ll be a cinch. And my, look at these others--here you"re a soldier, and here you"re a-a-a polo player--that is polo, ain"t it, or is it tennis? And will you look at these stunning Westerns! These are simply the best of all--on horseback, and throwing a rope, and the fighting face with the gun drawn, and rolling a cigarette--and, as I live, saying good-by to the horse. Wouldn"t that get you--Buck Benson to the life!"
Again and again she shuffled over the stills, dwelling on each with excited admiration. Her excitement was p.r.o.nounced. It seemed to be a sort of nervous excitement. It had caused her face to flush deeply, and her manner, especially over the Western pictures, at moments oddly approached hysteria. Merton was deeply gratified. He had expected the art studies to produce no such impression as this. The Countess in the casting office had certainly manifested nothing like hysteria at beholding them. It must be that the Montague girl was a better judge of art studies.
"I always liked this one, after the Westerns," he observed, indicating the Harold Parmalee pose.
"It"s stunning," agreed the girl, still with her nervous manner. "I tell you, sit over there in Jeff"s chair and take the same pose, so I can compare you with the photo."
Merton obliged. He leaned an elbow on the chair-arm and a temple on the two straightened fingers. "Is the light right?" he asked, as he turned his face to the pictured angle.
"Fine," applauded the girl. "Hold it." He held it until shocked by shrill laughter from the observer. Peal followed peal. She had seemed oddly threatened with hysteria; perhaps now it had come. She rocked on her heels and held her hands to her sides. Merton arose in some alarm, and was rea.s.sured when the victim betrayed signs of mastering her infirmity. She wiped her eyes presently and explained her outbreak.
"You looked so much like Parmalee I just couldn"t help thinking how funny it was--it just seemed to go over me like anything, like a spasm or something, when I got to thinking what Parmalee would say if he saw someone looking so much like him. See? That was why I laughed."
He was sympathetic and delighted in equal parts. The girl had really seemed to suffer from her paroxysm, yet it was a splendid tribute to his screen worth.
It was at this moment that Baird entered. He tossed his hat on a chair and turned to the couple.
"Mr. Baird, shake hands with my friend Merton Gill. His stage name is Clifford Armytage."
"Very pleased to meet you," said Merton, grasping the extended hand.
He hoped he had not been too dignified, too condescending. Baird would sometime doubtless know that he did not approve of those so-called comedies, but for the present he must demean himself to pay back some money borrowed from a working girl.
"Delighted," said Baird; then he bent a suddenly troubled gaze upon the Gill lineaments. He held this a long moment, breaking it only with a sudden dramatic turning to Miss Montague.
"What"s this, my child? You"re playing tricks on the old man." Again he incredulously scanned the face of Merton. "Who is this man?" he demanded.
"I told you, he"s Merton Gill from Gushwomp, Ohio," said the girl, looking pleased and expectant.
"Simsbury, Illinois," put in Merton quickly, wishing the girl could be better at remembering names.
Baird at last seemed to be convinced. He heavily smote an open palm with a clenched fist. "Well, I"ll be swoshed! I thought you must be kidding.
If I"d seen him out on the lot I"d "a" said he was the twin brother of Harold Parmalee."
"There!" exclaimed the girl triumphantly. "Didn"t I say he"d see it right quick? You can"t keep a thing from this old bey. Now you just came over here to this desk and look at this fine batch of stills he had taken by a regular artist back in Cranberry."
"Ah!" exclaimed Baird unctuously, "I bet they"re good. Show me." He went to the desk. "Be seated, Mr. Gill, while I have a look at these."