Seemingly he had met the test. Baird had said that morning, "Now we'll just run a little kind of test to find out a few things about you," and had followed with a general description of the scenes. It was to be of no great importance--a minor detail of the picture.
Perhaps this had been why the wealthy actor breakfasted in rather a plainly furnished room on hard-boiled eggs and potato salad. Perhaps this had been why the costume given him had been not too well fitting, not too nice in detail. Perhaps this was why they had allowed the cross-eyed man to appear as his valet. He was quite sure this man would not do as a valet in a high-class picture. Anyway, however unimportant the scene, he felt that he had acquitted himself with credit.
The Montague girl, who had made him up that morning, with close attention to his eyebrows, watched him from back of the cameras, and she seized both his hands when he left the set. "You're going to land," she warmly assured him. "I can tell a trouper when I see one."She was in costume. She was apparently doing the part of a society girl, though slightly overdressed, he thought.
"We're working on another set for this same picture," she explained, "but I simply had to catch you acting. You'll probably be over with us to-morrow. But you're through for the day, so beat it and have a good time.""Couldn't I come over and watch you?"
"No, Baird doesn't like to have his actors watching things they ain't in; he told me specially that you weren't to be around except when you're working. You see, he's using you in kind of a special part in this multiple-reeler, and he's afraid you might get confused if you watched the other parts. I guess he'll start you to-morrow.
You're to be in a good, wholesome heart play. You'll have a great chance in it.""Well, I'll go see if I can find another Parmalee picture for this afternoon. Say, you don't think I was too much like him in that scene, do you? You know it's one thing if I look like him--I can't help that--but I shouldn't try to imitate him too closely, should I?
I got to think about my own individuality, haven't I?""Sure, sure you have! But you were fine--your imitation wasn't a bit too close. You can think about your own individuality this afternoon when you're watching him."Late that day in the projection room Baird and the Montague girl watched the "rush" of that morning's episode.
"The squirrel's done it," whispered the girl after the opening scene. It seemed to her that Merton Gill on the screen might overhear her comment.
Even Baird was low-toned. "Looks so," he agreed.
"If that ain't Parmalee then I'll eat all the hard-boiled eggs on the lot."Baird rubbed his hands. "It's Parmalee plus," he corrected.
"Oh, Mother, Mother!" murmured the girl while the screen revealed the actor studying his photographs.
"He handled all right in that spot," observed Baird.
"He'll handle right--don't worry. Ain't I told you he's a natural born trouper?"The mail was abandoned in humorous despair. The cigarette lighted in a flawless Parmalee manner, the smoke idly brushed aside. "Poor, silly little girls," the actor was seen to say. The girl gripped Baird's arm until he winced. "There, old Pippin! There's your million, picked right up on the lot!""Maybe," assented the cooler Baird, as they left the projection room.
"And say," asked the girl, "did you notice all morning how he didn't even bat an eye when you spoke to him, if the camera was still turning? Not like a beginner that'll nearly always look up and get out of the picture.""What I bet," observed Baird, "I bet he'd 'a' done that album stuff even better than he did if I'd actually put his own pictures in, the way I'm going to for the close-ups. I was afraid he'd see it was kidding if I did, or if I told him what pictures they were going to be. But I'm darned now if I don't think he'd have stood for it. Idon't believe you'll ever be able to peeve that boy by telling him he's good."The girl glanced up defensively as they walked.
"Now don't get the idea he's conceited, because he ain't. Not one bit.""How do you know he ain't?"
She considered this, then explained brightly, "Because I wouldn't like him if he was. No, no--now you listen here" as Baird had grinned. "This lad believes in himself, that's all. That's different from conceit. You can believe a whole lot in yourself, and still be as modest as a new--hatched chicken. That's what he reminds me of, too."The following morning Baird halted him outside the set on which he would work that day. Again he had been made up by the Montague girl, with especial attention to the eyebrows so that they might show the Parmalee lift.
"I just want to give you the general dope of the piece before you go on," said Baird, in the shelter of high canvas backing. "You're the only son of a widowed mother and both you and she are toiling to pay off the mortgage on the little home. You're the cashier of this business establishment, and in love with the proprietor's daughter, only she's a society girl and kind of looks down on you at first.
Then, there's her brother, the proprietor's only son. He's the clerk in this place. He doesn't want to work, but his father has made him learn the business, see? He's kind of a no-good; dissipated; wears flashy clothes and plays the races and shoots craps and drinks. You try to reform him because he's idolized by his sister that you're in love with.
"But you can't do a thing with him. He keeps on and gets in with a rough crowd, and finally he steals a lot of money out of the safe, and just when they are about to discover that he's the thief you see it would break his sister's heart so you take the crime on your own shoulders. After that, just before you're going to be arrested, you make a getaway--because, after all, you're not guilty--and you go out West to start all over again--""Out there in the big open spaces?" suggested Merton, who had listened attentively.
