Janet Hardy in Hollywood

by John Henry Goldfrap

  _Chapter XVIII_ HELLO, HOLLYWOOD!

  Janet and Helen found that by leaning close together they could conversebut with the steady beat of the engines in their ears, a sense ofdrowsiness soon overtook the girls and they relaxed in their chairs.Janet dropped into a deep sleep that was not broken until their planedropped down at Cheyenne well after midnight to change pilots and refuel.

  Here the stewardess offered them a selection of fruit and Janet ateseveral oranges with relish. Then they were off again, meeting thesunrise east of Salt Lake City with the most glorious panorama Janet hadever seen unfolding beneath her eyes.

  After that they swung southwest in an almost direct line for Los Angeles,climbing dizzily over the Sierras and then dropping down into lowerCalifornia.

  Helen glanced at her watch and Janet, still unused to her own, followedsuit. They would be at the Grand Central airport in less than half anhour.

  Helen, leaning back, cried, "We're almost there," and Janet noddedhappily.

  It seemed almost on the echo of Helen's words, although it was actuallyminutes later, when the plane wheeled and settled gently down on therunway of a huge airport.

  Janet, looking eagerly from the window, saw a group of cameramen standingat the gate which led to the field. There must be some celebrity on theirown plane or on a ship due in soon. She scanned the passengers in theirown cabin. None of them appeared unusually famous and she decided thecameramen were there to meet some other plane.

  A landing stage was rolled up the moment the plane stopped and thestewardess opened the door.

  "Take your time," said Helen's father. "We'll all be a bit stiff afterthis long ride. You girls want to look your best."

  Janet stood up and smoothed out her skirt. It had remained remarkablyfresh and the heavy silk shirtwaist showed only a few wrinkles. Herjacket would cover that up and she got that garment down from the rackover her head. Helen, who had worn a brown silk suit, had fared almost aswell, and after a hurried glance into the mirrors in their handbags, bothgirls pronounced themselves ready to see what Hollywood looked like.

  Helen's father and mother were out of the plane first with the girlsclose behind them.

  A uniformed airport employee nodded to Mr. Thorne.

  "I've had your bags put in your car," he said, and Janet saw the famousdirector hand over a bill.

  The cameramen were still clustered at the gate and instead of looking forthe arrival of another plane, seemed to be watching them as theyadvanced.

  "Hi, Mr. Thorne," greeted one of them, a chunky little fellow half hiddenbehind a huge camera. "Have a nice trip?"

  "Fine, Joey. Couldn't have been better."

  "Get any fish?" another one called.

  "You guess," smiled Helen's father.

  "That's far enough," said the photographer called Joey. "Just line upwith the girls in the middle. What's the idea trying to sneak in on uslike this?"

  "What do you mean?" parried Mr. Thorne.

  "The Ace publicity office just tipped us off that you were coming in thisnoon with a couple of girls from the midwest and that you think they're acouple of great film possibilities. I don't call that playing very fairwith us."

  "So the office phoned and said I was bringing in a couple of new stars?"

  "That's right. Now girls, smile a little. We won't bite even if thecameras do look big."

  Janet and Helen, more than a little perplexed by the sudden turn ofevents, couldn't help smiling while the photographers clicked theirmachines.

  Then several reporters, who had remained in the background until thephotographers were through, pushed ahead.

  "Give us the dope, Mr. Thorne--who they are, where you found them, whatyou have in mind for them? Do you really think they're good?"

  "Good?" asked Henry Thorne slowly. "Good? They're two of the finestpossibilities that ever struck Hollywood. Boys, you don't know howenthusiastic I am."

  "Think they'll be big box office?" one reporter asked.

  "As far as I'm concerned, they're box office attractions right now andthey are going to be under my personal management and supervision."

  Janet chuckled quietly for she could see the trend of Henry Thorne'sconversation.

  "Sure, sure, we'll admit they're good," said another reporter, "but whoare they and where did you find them?"

  Henry Thorne paused a moment as though deciding a question of tremendousimportance.

  "Well, gentlemen, of course I hadn't expected the office would tip youoff on my arrival. I'd rather planned on slipping in quietly and givingthese girls a chance to get used to Hollywood, but I suppose I might aswell tell you now. I want you to meet my daughter, Helen, and her friend,Janet Hardy."

  Reporters and photographers stared.

  "You're kidding us!" one of them protested.

  "I'm very serious," replied Henry Thorne. "You boys let yourselves in forthis. I've always played fair with you and you thought I was pulling afast one on you so I let your imaginations run along for a while."

  "Then they're not new stars?" asked one photographer, who had takenunusual care to get some excellent shots.

  "I didn't say they weren't. Now here's actually the story. The girlsgraduated from high school last week and this trip west is a present tothem. Both of them have brains, better than average looks, and both ofthem can ride. Billy Fenstow is going to put them into his next western,but whether they'll be any good is another question. I'm willing to betthat they will."

  The photographer called Joey looked at Janet and Helen critically.

  "I'll string along with you," he decided. "Those girls look like winnersto me."

  "Thanks Joey. I'll remember that."

  "Any time you have a picture scoop," Joey retorted.

  The Thornes and Janet went on to a waiting sedan where a driver was readyto whirl them to the home Henry Thorne maintained in Hollywood.

  "That was quite an experience," grinned Helen. "We almost becamecelebrities."

  "Just another fool stunt of the publicity office, but I guess it didn'tdo any harm," admitted Helen's father.

  Half an hour's ride took them to a comfortable, sprawling bungalow setwell back on a side street.

  "I've been living in an apartment, but when I got the idea of bringingyou back with me I leased this place," Henry Thorne told his wife anddaughter. "I've installed George, my negro cook, and there ought to besomething in the way of lunch ready for us."

  The bungalow was delightful with a tremendous living room clear acrossthe front and two long wings to the rear, one housing the dining room,kitchen and servants' quarters while the other contained a series ofbedrooms with baths between. At the rear, flanked by a high hedge, was amedium sized swimming pool with a diving tower.

  "Dad, this is wonderful," exclaimed Helen. "I don't care now whether Iever get before a camera. I'll be happy right here, spending my days inthat pool."

  Mrs. Thorne took charge, made instant friends of George, the smilingcook, and assigned the bedrooms, Janet and Helen sharing one large roomwith twin beds. It was at the very rear of the house with a door thatalmost opened onto the pool, which pleased the girls.

  "Clean up and we'll have lunch. George informs me that it will be readyin fifteen minutes," said Helen's mother.

  "How about a swim?" asked Helen.

  "What in?" asked Janet.

  "The pool, silly."

  "But I hear it's even against California laws to go in a pool in yourbirthday suit."

  "I forgot. Of course we'd put our suits in the trunk and I suppose itwill be a couple of days before they arrive."

  After a more prosaic shower, they felt tremendously refreshed and theluncheon which George had prepared was delicious.

  "See about a maid at once to do the housework, mother," said HenryThorne, "and with George to do the cooking you can have a little fun,too."

  "But I want something to do," protested Mrs. Thorne.

  "There'll be plenty just keepin
g track of Janet and Helen."

  "How would you like to attend a premiere of a new picture at the Queen'sCourt tonight?" he asked.

  "Fine," replied Helen, "but what's the Queen Court?"

  "It's the newest of the deluxe motion picture theaters here. You'll see alot of stars. What do you say now?"

  "Count us in," declared Janet.

  "What'll we wear? Our trunks aren't here?"

  "Mother'll take you shopping this afternoon," promised Henry Thorne. "Orbetter, I'll take you around to Roddy at the studio."

  "I'm not a mind reader. Who's Roddy?" Helen asked.

  Her father looked at her in astonishment. Then grinned. "Sure, youwouldn't know Roddy. Well, he's a thin little fellow, almost bald, but hecreates the most sensational clothes worn by the stars at our studio. Hiscredit line on the screen is always signed Adoree, but that's just forpublicity. Roddy wouldn't be a good name for a creator of ultrafashions."

  "You mean you'll have Adoree do dresses for us for tonight?" asked Helen.

  "You'd better not call him Adoree or he'll stick you full of pins. He'sjust plain Roddy around the studio."

  Janet's throat suddenly felt dry. Here, on her first day in Hollywood,she was to have a gown created by a famous designer and attend a premiereat the Queen's Court.