"Don't be nervous, old Kid; he likes 'em all right." He reassured her lightly: "Oh, I'm not a bit nervous about him. It ain't as if he was doing something worth while, instead of mere comedies."The girl's colour seemed to heighten. "You be sure to tell him that;talk right up to him. Be sure to say 'mere comedies.' It'll show him you know what's what. And as a matter of fact, Kid, he's trying to do something worth while, right this minute, something serious.
That's why he's so interested in you."
"Well, of course, that's different." He was glad to learn this of Baird. He would take the man seriously if he tried to be serious, to do something fine and distinctive.
Baird here returned, looking grave. The Montague girl seemed more strangely intense. She beckoned the manager to her side.
"Now, here, Jeff, here was something I just naturally had to laugh at."Baird had not wholly conquered those facial spasms, but he controlled himself to say, "Show me!""Now, Merton," directed the girl, "take that same pose again, like you did for me, the way you are in this picture."As Merton adjusted himself to the Parmalee pose she handed the picture to Baird. "Now, Jeff, I ask you--ain't that Harold to the life--ain't it so near him that you just have to laugh your head off?"It was even so. Baird and the girl both laughed convulsively, the former with rumbling chuckles that shook his frame. When he had again composed himself he said, "Well, Mr. Gill, I think you and Ican do a little business. I don't know what your idea about a contract is, but--"Merton Gill quickly interrupted. "Well, you see I'd hardly like to sign a contract with you, not for those mere comedies you do. I'll do anything to earn a little money right now so I can pay back this young lady, but I wouldn't like to go on playing in such things, with cross-eyed people and waiters on roller skates, and all that.
What I really would like to do is something fine and worth while, but not clowning in mere Buckeye comedies."Mr. Baird, who had devoted the best part of an active career to the production of Buckeye comedies, and who regarded them as at least one expression of the very highest art, did not even flinch at these cool words. He had once been an actor himself. Taking the blow like a man, he beamed upon his critic. "Exactly, my boy; don't you think I'll ever ask you to come down to clowning. You might work with me for years and I'd never ask you to do a thing that wasn't serious.
In fact, that's why I'm hoping to engage you now. I want to do a serious picture, I want to get out of all that slap-stick stuff, see? Something fine and worth while, like you say. And you're the very actor I need in this new piece.""Well, of course, in that case--" This was different; he made it plain that in the case of a manager striving for higher things he was not one to withhold a helping hand. He was beginning to feel a great sympathy for Baird in his efforts for the worth while. He thawed somewhat from the reserve that Buckeye comedies had put upon him. He chatted amiably. Under promptings from the girl he spoke freely of his career, both in Simsbury and in Hollywood. It was twelve o'clock before they seemed willing to let him go, and from time to time they would pause to gloat over the stills.
At last Baird said cheerily, "Well, my lad, I need you in my new piece. How'll it be if I put you on my payroll, beginning to-day, at forty a week? How about it, hey?""Well, I'd like that first rate, only I haven't worked any to-day;you shouldn't pay me for just coming here."The manager waved a hand airily. "That's all right, my boy; you've earned a day's salary just coming here to cheer me up. These mere comedies get me so down in the dumps sometimes. And besides, you're not through yet. I'm going to use you some more. Listen, now--" The manager had become coldly businesslike. "You go up to a little theatre on Hollywood Boulevard--you can't miss it--where they're running a Harold Parmalee picture. I saw it last night and I want you to see it to-day, Better see it afternoon and evening both.""Yes, sir," said Merton.
"And watch Parmalee. Study him in this picture. You look like him already, but see if you can pick up some of his tricks, see what Imean? Because it's a regular Parmalee part I'm going to have you do, see? Kind of a society part to start with, and then we work in some of your Western stuff at the finish. But get Parmalee as much as you can. That's all now. Oh, yes, and can you leave these stills with me? Our publicity man may want to use them later.""All right, Mr. Baird, I'll do just what you say, and of course you can keep the stills as long as I got an engagement with you, and I'm very glad you're trying to do something really worth while.""Thanks," said Baird, averting his face.
The girl followed him into the hall. "Great work, boy, and take it from me, you'll go over. Say, honest now, I'm glad clear down into my boots." She had both his hands again, and he could see that her eyes were moist. She seemed to be an impressionable little thing, hysterical one minute while looking at a bunch of good stills, and sort of weepy the next. But he was beginning to like her, in spite of her funny talk and free ways.
"And say," she called after him when he had reached the top of the stairs, "you know you haven't had much experience yet with a bunch of hard-boiled troupers; many a one will be jealous of you the minute you begin to climb, and maybe they'll get fresh and try to kid you, see? But don't you mind it--give it right back to them. Or tell me if they get too raw. Just remember I got a mean right when Iswing free."
"All right, thank you," he replied, but his bewilderment was plain.
She stared a moment, danced up to him, and seized a hand in both of hers. "What I mean son, if you feel bothered any time--by anything--just come to me with it, see? I'm in this piece, and I'll look out for you. Don't forget that." She dropped his hand, and was back in the office while he mumbled his thanks for what he knew she had meant as a kindness.
