by H. C. Witwer
CHAPTER VII
ART IS WRONG
Every time some guy goes over the top to notoriety and money in thismovie called life, they is some 5,678,954 also rans which wags theirheads from side to side and says, "Well--no wonder. He was born thatway and couldn't help himself!" Then, they go back to their dub jobsand wish they was lucky.
That stuff is all wrong! A guy may be born with different color hairfrom the next guy, but he's never born with any secret of success thatthe kid in the adjoinin' crib ain't got. All you need to be born within order to get the world familiar with your last name is the usualnumber of arms, legs and etc. and a mad habitual yearnin' to make goodthat a sudden hypodermic of success don't kill. Anything but failureis possible to a hustler, and by a hustler I don't mean one of thembreezy birds which makes a lotta noise, thinks they is only one letterin the alphabet and that's the one after "H," but the guy which takessetbacks as encouragement and quits tryin' the day the undertaker iscalled in.
They's many a big artist whose ancestors thought paint was used for thesides of barns only, they's many a famous actor whose father figuredShakespeare was the name of a puddin', they's many a big league authorcome from families which confined their readin' matter to the citydirectory, and so it goes all along the line--Columbus's old man was acotton picker. You don't inherit success, you take it by force, usin'your ambition, nerve and ability as the weapons.
The above information was handed on to me by Alex. He says Broadway istoo narrow and Vermont moonlight had it lookin' dark at night and hethen proceeds to wed one of the prettiest girls that ever looked overthe Winter Garden footlights--she makes homemade bread now, too! Thefirst time he went to the Metropolitan Opera House he claims he'd likegrand opera if they wouldn't sing and when does the acrobats come out,yet the next week he's able to take a apartment on Riverside Drive.This here is just a few of the things Alex done to break up the dullmonotony of life in a burg where that and death is mere incidents.
The wife and I is sittin' together in the parlor one night and she'sknittin' a sweater for me that will prob'ly make me off her for life,whilst I'm readin' aloud to her from the only novel in which true loveand the like don't win out in the end. It's called "Simpson'sUniversal Educator" and the subject we are on is how wet is thePacific, or some such hot stuff as that. They is a ring at the belland the wife grabs the book outa my hand and slings about thirtydollars' worth of wool over my arms.
She's knittin' a sweater for me that will prob'ly makeme off her for life.]
"Sit up straight," she says, "and look interested in this! You'rehelpin' me knit--get that? Look as if you like it and the minute thedoor opens call me dear."
"What's the idea?" I says, sittin' there with my arms out straight andstiff before me like a doll or the like. "I don't get--"
"Sssh!" she whispers. "That's probably Ruth Hopper and her husband.She's trying to get him to quit playing pinochle all night and shewants to show him what a ideal husband does."
"A pinochle fiend, hey?" I says. "Well, lead him on! We got a littlegame down at the corner and he'll just make up the set. It's gettin'around time for me to leave anyways. I been in a half hour now and--"
Well, at that moment our charmin' maid leads in no less than Alex andhis wife Eve. Speakin' of good lookers, this dame would make Morganforget about Wall Street, and she's wearin' a dress that must of putsome Fifth Avenue store over. But the wife begins bein' pleasant togaze upon and a delight to the naked eye where Eve leaves off. Why,she's got a movie contract which she holds over my head every time Istay out till ten o'clock and the like. Them two dames in the one roomis more than the average guy can stand and how they ever come to fallfor a coupla guys like me and Alex is a subject for bigger brains thanmine. They say women is peculiar, hey? Well, it's a good thing forthe average guy that they are!
"Well!" remarks Eve, lookin' from me to the wife. "How perfectlysweet! If you two only knew what a pretty picture you make!"
"How perfectly sweet! If you two only knew what prettypicture you make!"]
"Yeh," I says, gettin' up and dumpin' the near sweater on the table."You'd almost think we wasn't married, hey?"
"Speaking of pictures," says the wife, allowin' Alex to kiss her--athing I loathe, "let's all go down and see 'Wronged By Mistake.' Theytell me--"
"Nothin' stirrin'," I butts in. "I wanna see Beryldine Nearer in 'TheWoman Which Lost.' She's some dame, believe me! If I was the leadin'man in her pictures I'd work for nothin'."
"Is that so?" says the wife, her voice as cold as Cape Nome. "Whydidn't you marry her then instead of me?"
"She didn't ask me till it was too late," I says, grinnin' like a wolf.
"Here, here!" says Alex. "How is it you people is always quarrelin'every time I come here for a visit?"
"We figure you'll get sore and beat it," I says.
"Now, boys," says Eve, "let's forget we are all one family and befriends. Why aren't you folks out celebratin' peace to-night?"
"We wasn't invited," I says. "And I have bought my last ticket from aspeculator."
"Invited?" says Eve, which always takes everything except Alex serious."Why, all New York seems to be on Broadway!"
"That's what people from Chicago always thinks," I says. "But they'smore to the town than that."
"Oh, hush that near comedy," says the wife. "C'mon, we're going to see'Wronged By Mistake.'"
"I'll see Beryldine Nearer," I says in a loud and angry voice, "or wedon't go nowhere!"
We went to see "Wronged By Mistake."
The movin' picture company which is responsible for this film claims itcost them $100,000 to make the picture. Maybe it did, I don't know.What I do know is that it cost me $1000 to see it! Why? Lend me yourears, as the dumb guy said.
The hero of this here picture was no less than Carrington De Vire.This guy's name is familiar in burgs where they don't know if Wilson orWashington is still president of the United States. His name is onmore collars than you ever seen and he gets more money a week than youand me makes in six years, even if you cut his advertised salary inhalf. He's prob'ly caused more girls to take their pens in hand thanany massage cream in the world and to say he is a handsome dog is likeremarkin' that the Grand Canyon is pleasant to look at. The onlymagazine which ain't printed his photo at least once with a auto, acountry place and a coupla trick dogs at his side is the _HardwareTrade Review_ and the _Steamfitters' Friend_.
The minute Carrington De Vire appears on the screen and gives thenatives a treat by presentin' one and all with a pleasant smile, thewife and Eve begins to rave about him out loud. He kisses the leadin'woman and they let forth a sigh which would of made me jealous only Igot too much brains. The villain slams him, prob'ly because he gotsick of lookin' at the big fathead, and the women groans. He knocksthe villain kickin' and they applaud their hands off and when he fightshis way through a gang of supes which will lose their jobs if theydon't fall when he hits 'em, I thought most of the female part of theaudience would pass away with joy!
"I think he's simply wonderful, don't you?" murmurs Eve to the wife.
They is no argument about it.
Alex give a snort.
"If they's anything wonderful about that feller," he says, "then I'mmore astonishin' than wireless. Anybody can do that stuff! Why--"
"Why, the idea!" butts in Eve. "I actually believe you're jealous. Ithink Carrington De Vire is simply divine--marvelous!"
"Wait till you see Niagara Falls," I says.
"Both of them are jealous," says the wife. "I'm surprised at Alexsaying that any one could act as well as Carrington De Vire. Why, Ithink he's got Faversham beaten a mile. You have to be born withtalent like that!"
"I think the wife's right in one thing at last," I says. "I like themmale movie heroes and carbolic acid the same way, but you got to handit to this bird--he's _some_ actor! Yep, Alex, you can't learn thatstuff out of no book, you gotta be born with it."
"You'r
e all crazy!" announces Alex, with another snort. "I can go outright now and dig up a dozen fellers which never seen a camera in theirlife and they'll duplicate anything Carrington De Vire ever did on ascreen. Where does he get off to be wonderful? Some feller withbrains writes a play, another feller with money puts it on and thenanother feller with technical knowledge tells De Vire, which ain't gotnone of them things, where to stand and the like while he acts it.Why--"
"Ridiculous!" butts in Eve. "Carrington De Vire has extraordinarytalent. He has thousands of admirers all over the country.Why--why--he's famous!"
"Of course," says the wife. "It's too silly to talk about. Alex hasreached the stage now where he thinks he can do anything!"
"Yeh?" says Alex. "Well, I reached the stage where I thought I coulddo anything about three minutes after I was born! I'll bet right now Ican go down to the docks or some place and get a handsome stevedore andmake him as big a star as Carrington De Vire in six months!"
"Don't be idiotic," laughs Eve. "Imagine a stevedore as a movingpicture star!"
"Why not?" demands Alex, lookin' like the idea had made a hit with him."Ain't a stevedore as good as anybody else? I'll bet a thousanddollars even that I can catch one or somebody like him and make him amovie star. What d'ye say?"
"I'll say this," I says. "We come here to see this picture and not tohear you make a speech. This here's a theatre and not no race trackand forget about that bettin' thing. If you can make a movie star outof a stevedore, I can make a watch outa a hard boiled egg!"
They is some people behind us which can't see the picture on account ofus talkin' and they begin to hiss at us. It bothers Alex the same asrain worries a duck.
"Is they steam escapin' somewheres?" he remarks, turnin' his head."Why, brakemen have became railroad presidents," he goes on,"bootblacks have became bankers, prize fighters have turned evangelistsand the United States has went dry. Why shouldn't a stevedore become amovie star?"
"We'll all become throwed outa here if you don't keep quiet!" I says.
"Ssh, Alex," says the wife. "Don't get so excited about it. There'sno use attempting the impossible and--"
"They ain't nothin impossible!" butts in Alex. "I'm willin' to proveit. Why don't somebody bet me, hey?"
"Why don't you hire Madison Square Garden for that speech?" hisses aguy behind us. "Heavens, what a pest!"
"Call the usher," puts in a dame with him. "Them people has didnothin' but talk since they come in here!"
"What d'ye want us to do--sing?" growls Alex.
"Alex, be still!" whispers Eve. "I've missed the whole picture throughyour talking. Now we'll have to stay and see it all over again."
"Have a nice time," says Alex, gettin' up and grabbin' my arm. "We'llwait outside for you. One dose a day of Carrington De Vire is all Ican take!"
The bunch in back glares at us and says somethin' about what a crime itis to let drunken men come into a theatre.
Outside on the pavement, Alex lets forth a snort and whiffs the freshair like it was wine.
"Think of my wife sittin' in there and worshippin' that big stiff," hesnarls. "And yours, too!"
"We all have our faults," I says. "I knowed a guy once which was crazyover fried parsnips."
"They ain't nothin' to laugh at in this," he says, slappin' his handstogether. "I ain't a jealous man, but no movie hero is gonna be no godto my wife!"
"Why don't you go in the movies yourself, then?" I says. "They mighthire you for a picture with Carrington De Vire in it, and you can knockhim kickin' in five reels or the like."
"Huh!" says Alex, "what do I care about the movies? I got a betterplan than that and it will accomplish the same purpose. I'll show Eveand the rest of you how easy it is to be a movie hero--I'll make moneyout of it, too!" he adds, with the old glitter in his eyes.
"What are you gonna do?" I says. "Speak quick, I can't standexcitement!"
For answer he takes me into the hotel across the street and leads meinto the writin' room. He sits down and writes on a piece of paper fora minute and then he hands it to me.
"Cast your eyes over that," he says, "and if it's satisfactory--signit!"
This is what I read,
"I, Alex Hanley, agree to hire one handsome, tall and perfectly builtstevedore, longshoreman, truck driver or some one engaged in a equallyhonest profession, one who has never appeared before a camera or uponany stage and who has no knowledge of theatricals, and within sixmonths from date to make him a full fledged, acknowledged star of themoving pictures.
"In the event of said undertaking being successful, the undersignedagrees to pay Alex Hanley one thousand dollars. In the event offailure, Alex Hanley agrees to forfeit the same sum."
I handed it back to him.
"Listen!" I says. "Don't be a nut _all_ your life. You got as muchchance of--"
"Did you ever see me fall down on anything?" he butts in, dippin' a penin the ink and handin' it to me.
"Not even a banana peel," I admits. "But they is a limit toeverything--even the war's over. In the first place, even if you coulddo this, it would cost you more than a thousand dollars and--"
"Leave that to me," he says, pushin' over the pen. "And sign here!"
"But--" I says.
"Hurry up, the ink will be dry," he cuts me off.
I give in.
"Alex," I says. "This is a crime! If I ever win one bet in my life,I'll win this one. You'll make a movie star outa a stevedore, hey?Why--"
"Want a thousand more?" he grins pleasantly.
"No!" I hollers. "Let's go over and meet the girls."
The search for the future king of the movies begins merrily the nextday. I went with Alex to see that he didn't put nothin' over on me andat the end of the week he had dug up three promisin' leads. They was aplumber's helper which had a wonderful figure, but a scar on his cheekshowed up in a snapshot Alex took of him and he was laid aside with asigh. Then they was a waiter which was better lookin' than MaryPickford, but a trifle stoop-shouldered. The third guy was hustlin'baggage at Grand Central Station and was a perfect Venus except forsome missin' teeth which queered him when he smiled and what's a moviehero without a smile?
Well, I'm havin' the time of my life kiddin' Alex, when one day as weare walkin' along Third Avenue in search of his prey, he grabs me bythe arm, yells, "I got him!" and starts across the street on the run.They is a big truck standin' there and a husky on the back of it isengaged in coaxin' pig iron off of it on to the street. He stood aboutsix foot three without bein' shaved and weighed accordingly, all boneand muscle not countin' his head. He turns around and--Oh, boy!!!!
Say! I seen some good lookers in my time, male and female, but thisbaby had it on 'em all! His hair is that black, wavy kind that thecabaret hounds wish they had and he's got a skin like a week old baby.He must of painted his teeth with enamel twice a day and he's therewith a pair of eyelashes that would make a chorus girl take carbolic.On the level, he's so handsome he don't look real--and that with allthe signs of honest toil at the truck on him, too! Alex taps him onthe shoulder and he swings around.
"What's yours?" he growls.
"I have come to make your fortune," announces Alex with a grin. Thenhe turns to me. "Ain't he a peach, hey?" he says.
The big guy drops the pig iron and looks from Alex to me.
"What kinda stuff is this?" he growls. "What d'ye mean I'm a peach?"
"You are the luckiest man in New York," says Alex. "I have come tomake you famous and rich!"
The big guy grins.
"Listen!" he says. "They're awful tough on hop fiends in this burg nowand they'll be a copper along in a minute, so you better duck. I knowyou guys is no less than J. P. Morgan and John D. Rockefeller, if notmore, and you'll gimme a million dollars in nickels if I'll tell youwhere to get a layout. But I ain't got the time, I gotta get thisstuff off here and--"
With that he turns around and goes to work again.
"Drop that iron!"
says Alex. "You'll never soil your hands with manuallabor again."
"Hey!" snarls the big guy. "Git away, will you? I always feel sorryfor you dope fiends, but if you guys don't lay off me, I'll bounce thetwo of you. Now, beat it!"
"Well," I says to Alex, "he's ignorant anyways. We got that part allsettled and--"
"Look here!" says Alex, darin'ly grabbin' the big guy by the arm."We're neither dope fiends nor maniacs. I want to ask you a fewquestions and, if your answers suit me, I'll hire you for a hundreddollars a week to do special work for me. To show you I'm not foolin',take this for your trouble whether we do business or not."
With that he hands him a twenty dollar bill.
"Aha!" yells the big guy. "Coupla counterfeiters, hey?" He snatchesthe bill and grabs Alex. "So you guys want me to pass this for you--Igot it!" He starts to drag Alex along the pavement and half ThirdAvenue stops to watch it. "I'll git a reward for this!" I heard himmutter.
Alex throws him off--he's stronger than he looks.
"You better not take that head of yours into no pool room," he snarls,"or somebody'll get two billiard balls and play with it for a set.Take your hands off me and listen. That bill is as good as the insideof a church. C'mon into this store and I'll prove it!"
They's somethin' about Alex that makes this guy hesitate, and Alexpulls him into a cigar store, whilst I shoo away the disappointed crowdwhich looked for manslaughter at least.
In a minute they come out. The big guy has twenty single bills in hishand and a dazed look on his face. Alex is grinnin'.
"Now are you satisfied?" says Alex.
The big guy shoves the dough in his overalls.
"The sugar seems O.K.," he says. "Say! I gotta work a week for thatmuch dough, so I might as well give you five minutes of my time.What's the idea, hey?"
"Now, Delancey Calhoun," says Alex, "how would you--"
"Wait a minute!" grins the other guy. "I knowed they was a ball upsomewheres. Where d'ye get that Calhoun stuff? My name's Tim O'Toole."
"Not no more!" says Alex, returnin' the grin. "From now on it'sDelancey Calhoun--get that?"
"A nut is a funny thing," says O'Toole, pressin' the dough in hispocket. "But--sure, I'm Delancey Calhoun! That's a swell name atthat--it sounds like a Lenox Avenue apartment house. What d'ye want meto do, outside of that?"
"How would you like to be a actor?" says Alex.
"Nothin' doin'!" says Delancey. "I got a steady job and I'm too fondof eatin'."
"Don't be a fool!" says Alex. "That stuff about actors not eatin'regular is a thing of the past. These days a actor makes more moneythan a banker. Did you ever appear on the stage anywheres in yourlife?"
"I did not!" snarls Delancey. "And I can lick the guy which claims Idid!"
"Fine!" says Alex, lookin' at me. "Now of course you've seen movin'pictures, hey?"
"Sure!" says Delancey. "What d'ye think I am--ig'rant?"
"Not at all," says Alex. "Do you think if you had a chance and waswell paid for it, you could do the things them heroes does in themovies?"
Delancey Calhoun, nee Tim O'Toole, throws out his chest from here toSouth Dakota.
"Do I _think_ so?" he says. "Why, say, pal--that stuff would be softfor me! I ain't no second Mary Pickford or the like and Chaplin mightgrab off more laughs to the reel than me, but when it come to this herecowboy and full dress stuff--Oh, lady!!!"
"You're hired!" hollers Alex, slappin' him on the back. "Startin'right now your salary is a hundred a week. Drive that truck back towhere it belongs and throw up your job."
"A hundred a week, hey?" says Delancey, rollin' his eyes. "Oh, lady!!In a month I'll have Carnegie gnashin' his teeth!" He breaks off andswings around on Alex. "Look here!" he says, "I been drivin' thistruck for two years. I got a good steady job from eight in the mornin'till ten at night, and I get twenty berries a week for it. I don'tknow nothin' about this nut job of yours, but if I don't get my hundredevery week--well, they's gonna be a funeral with you bein' featured init, get that?"
"That's all right," says Alex. "I'll deposit your first six months'salary in the bank for you--how's that?"
"What could be sweeter?" says Delancey. "They's just one other thing."
"Speak up!" says Alex.
"As long as I'm gonna be a movie actor," says Delancey, "do I get adress suit to wear?"
"Sure!" says Alex. "Why?"
"Well," grins Delancey, "I never had one of them open faced suits on inme life and in fact I was savin' up to get one now. I'm simply nuttyto put on one of them layouts and knock the innocent onlookers silly.If you hit a tough week, I might take ninety-five bucks and let therest go over a few days, but I gotta have the dress suit and that goes!"
"It's yours," says Alex, diggin' me in the ribs.
"All right," says Delancey, "I'll go down now and make the boss faintby quittin'. I'll meet you anywheres you says to-morrow."
"You will not," says Alex. "I'll ride right down on that truck withyou now!"
About two weeks later, Alex comes up to the flat and tells me to put onmy hat and cane. He says he's gonna take me over to the studio andshow me Delancey Calhoun's first picture.
"So you're really goin' through with it, hey?" I says. "What companydid you get him landed with?"
"The Par-Excellence Feature Film Company," he says.
"I never heard tell of it," I says. "Who's in back of it?"
"A young feller by the name of Alex Hanley!" he comes back, grinnin'.
"What?" I hollers. "D'ye mean to say you started a movie foundry toput this guy over?"
"I'll leave it to you," he tells me, "when we get to the studio. Let'sgo!"
On the way over he shows me a lot of the advertisin' copy with whichhe's gonna introduce Delancy Calhoun to the waitin' world. I must sayit was hot stuff! It claims that Delancey Calhoun is the sole heir tothe $20,000,000 left by the late Artemus Calhoun which died twentyyears ago. The will was given to his lawyers, Sandringham, Bellew andFitch, with instructions not to open it for twenty years. When it wasopened, it was found that them twenty millions was left to his onlynephew, Delancey. Alex has opened a law office downtown under the nameof Sandringham, Bellew and Fitch, so's to take care of the reportersand other guys of a inquisitive nature. Then comes the kick.
Delancey, a handsome and accomplished young giant, is tired of the"sham and deceit" of his own "exalted social set" and it's his ambitionto wed a girl of the common people and let her enjoy some of themillions his hard-fisted uncle wrung from their toil. He also hasanother aim in life and that is to accomplish a sweepin' reform of themovie game. He's always been a great fan himself, but he's sick of theimpossible plays which has been foisted on a innocent and nickelspendin' public. Therefore, he has organized his own movie company,will produce his own pictures from real life stories of the eternalstruggle, and last but not least, he'll appear personally in themhimself, to gratify a whim he's had since he first looked over the sideof a cradle. He thinks the average movie hero is sickenin', and hewants to show the world how a real hero would act. He will appear intwelve pictures only. Each will be a episode in the greatest mysterystory ever written entitled, "What was Hector's Choice?" Every singlefemale in the country is invited to see this picture and send in theirsolution of the mystery. _The one that comes nearest to the correctanswer will become the bride of Delancy Calhoun and his twenty millionbucks_.
Oh, boy!!!
"Alex," I says, "I'll tell the world this is great stuff! It must begonna cost you a bunch of money. Where do you get off?"
"Your head and glue is the two thickest things I ever seen," he says."Where do I get mine, hey? I get it from the sale of the pictures thisbird makes. In a coupla months they'll be riots in theatres all overthe country to see this guy in the movies!"
"Maybe," I says. "But how are you gonna pull 'em in? Right off thebat he's gotta compete with Chaplin, Mary Pickford and the like."
"I didn't wanna spring my a
ce so soon on you," he says, "but I guess Igot to. How am I gonna pull 'em in? This way--_single women will beadmitted free at every theatre where this picture is shown_!"
Wheee!!!!
"You're there, Alex!" I admits. "But suppose the men and married womenstays away?"
"Stays away?" he says. "They'll break their way in! The married womenwill wanna see Delancey and get a idea of what they missed, and the menwill wanna see what this big fathead looks like, if only to kid him."
"What kind of a actor is he?" I says.
"Wait till you see him," says Alex. "He's got the studio standin' onits ear! He thinks he's the greatest actor the world ever seen andeverybody else from the director to the camera men is dubs. He refusesto fake any of the fight scenes and I gotta pay supers ten bucks a dayto take his wallops. The first time he had a love scene with theleadin' lady he thought it was on the level and went out and got amarriage license. He argued two hours in favor of real bullets for theduel he fights with the villain and refused to play a scene supposed tobe in Alaska because the studio's in Jersey. He claims the guy whichwrote the scenario escaped from a lunatic asylum and he plays thesecond two reels his own way. I've had three different casts work withhim because he gets them all sore by his kiddin' them about art. Hetakes everything in dead earnest and tried to beat up the villain onthe street twice because he's supposed to hate him in the picture.But--this first episode is _some_ film!!!"
I seen the picture in the private projectin' room and Alex told thetruth when he called it "_some_ film." In fact that there would ofbeen as good a title for the whole picture as the one they had. Theywas more adventures happened to Delancey Calhoun in them five reelsthan Robinson Crusoe, Columbus, Kit Carson and Davy Crockett had intheir combined lives! He was a heart-breaker one second and ahead-breaker the next. He had insisted to Alex that one villain wasn'tenough for him to foil, so they had about a dozen and he trimmed 'emall. They was also several heroines for him to save and clasp on hismanly bosom, which same he did in evenin' clothes only. It was nothin'for him to save a maiden in distress from a sinkin' ship and the nextsecond appear in a lifeboat with a dress suit on, rowin' for shore. Nomatter if the scene was mornin' or night, Alaska or the Sahara Desert,Delancey was there in his little dress suit. He would of parted withthat and his left eye with the same willingness.
Apart from the film itself, which might of been good or might of beenbad, but certainly was excitin' for your life, Delancey was a riot! Hewas the handsomest thing I ever seen on a screen and I don't blame allthe dames in the studio for fallin' for him. In that treasured dresssuit of his which cost Alex as much as a limousine, they ain't no womanon earth that wouldn't get a thrill when she looked at him, provided hedidn't start no conversation. He looked class--that's all they is toit!
When we come out from seein' the picture, Delancey is walkin' aroundthe studio, still with the dress suit on. He's tellin' one of the bestdirectors in the country how to properly produce a movie and saiddirector is takin' it hard. He breaks off when he sees us.
"Hello!" he says. "Well, what d'ye think of me? I'm a knockout, hey?"
"Easily that," I admits, shakin' his hand. "How d'ye like bein' aactor?"
"Rotten!" he says. "This stuff is the bunk and them actors gimme apain. I think they're all nutty. How they get money for this hop ispast me! All I do all day is pretend I'm this and pretend I'm that andthe foreman of this layout keeps yellin', 'Register fear!' and stufflike that at me. I don't know why this friend of yours is givin' memoney for this, but I bet they's a catch to it somewheres!"
"Isn't he simply delicious?" says the leadin' woman, with a fond glanceat Delancey.
"Delicious, hey?" he snorts. "What d'ye think I am--a pie?"
They is a vampire there and she turns up her nose.
"I think he's impossible!" she says. "He hasn't the slightestconception of art."
"Lemme alone!" growls Delancey. "I'm as good a actor as you guys is,if not better. Where d'ye get that art stuff?"
"Heavens!" says the vampire. "You must have worked all your life toacquire ignorance, for no one was ever _born_ as stupid as you! Allyou have is your looks."
"Heavens!" says the vampire. "You must have worked ayour life to acquire ignorance, for no one was ever _born_ as stupid asyou!"]
"Yeh," snarls Delancey. "And all Rockefeller's got is a billion!"
At this point Alex stepped in and prevented bloodshed.
Well, Delancey is as big a success as a movie star as Boston is as atown, and within a month he's swept the country like a new dance. Thatstuff about him bein' a millionaire and willin' to marry the girl whichguesses the answer to the mystery in "What Was Hector's Choice?" caughton with the ladies like cold cream and his handsome map did the rest.His picture is plastered all over the country and kids which barelyknowed their A, B, C's, is familiar with his name. His mail arrivesdaily in freight cars and Alex had four guys workin' on nothin' butautographin' his photos for "A Admirer" and "Your Unknown Friend."Alex got a quarter the each for said photos to cover the "wrapping andmailing charges" and made a nice little profit on the side.
With all this success, though, Delancey Calhoun kept his head. Henever appeared at no banquets, addressed meetin's on "The Future of theMotion Picture Industry," or as much as glanced at the daily slew ofmail. When the dames around the studio cast languishin' glances at hishandsome form, he glared at 'em like a infuriated turtle. If one of'em remarked that it was a nice day by way of startin' a slightflirtation, Delancey would answer that he couldn't help it, and walkaway. He never spent a nickel foolishly or at all, and when the autoagents swooped down on him, he borrowed cigars from them and beat it.
When the dames cast languishing glances at his handsomeform, he glared at them like an infuriated turtle.]
The most astonishin' thing, though, was the way he acted about themovies durin' his career as a star. He never stopped claimin' that thewhole thing was the bunk and that it was idiotic for a grown person toput on a wig and take off the old banker or the like, when they wasonly a fifty buck a week actor. He insisted that anything as silly asthe movies was could never last and they was more real money in thetruckin' business for a man that knew the game as he did and had plentyof wagons. When Alex argues with him and says that many of the bigstars makes fifty thousand a year, he tells Alex to stop usin' opiumbecause it'll get him in the end.
At the end of three months, Delancey has made Alex pay him a percentageof the receipts and a salary of a thousand a week, but his opinion ofthe movie business is unchanged. He explains the fact that he's makin'plenty of money out of it by sayin' that Alex must be takin' it out ofhis own pocket and is simply makin' pictures to cover up his real game,which is prob'ly safe crackin'. Alex throws up his hands and lets himbe after that one.
Fin'ly the last picture is made and Alex gives out the information to aexpectant world that a girl in Brisbane, Australia, has won theguessin' contest and Delancey Calhoun's hand, and the famous star willsail immediately to wed her. The newspapers all prints pictures of 'emboth, Alex gettin' the lucky dame's by photographin' his stenographer.A couple of papers didn't get neither and runs pictures of Brisbane,Australia, so's to be on the job anyways. Then Alex collects thethousand bucks I bet him that he couldn't make a movie star outa atruck driver and prepares to break the news to his wife and mine thathe has done the same. He figures this will kill forever their wildinfatuation for Carrington De Vire, the idol of the screen.
At that point, Delancey Calhoun walks into the office.
"Ah, Delancey," says Alex, "I was just gonna send for you. Now thatour original contract has expired, let me congratulate you. You donegreat and far better than even I expected. You're famous the worldover and must have a good sized bankroll if you've stayed in at nightsand kept away from race tracks and the like. I only intended this as aexperiment, but it has gone over so big that I want you to sit downhere and sign a contract for five years at the biggest
salary you everheard of. We'll make the greatest pictures the world--"
"Wait a minute!" butts in Delancey. "Don't rave no more. My name isTim O'Toole again and not Delancey, which sounds like a collar. I'msick and tired of movin' pictures and that big salary stuff is as muchbunk as the rest of it. I ain't goin' around rescuin' nutty dames,beatin' up supes which is supposed to be the desperate smugglers anddivin' off bridges no more! I'm goin' to make a honest livin' and I'vebought out the truckin' business I was workin' for when you come alongand made a movie star and a simp outa me. I'll be takin' in moneythere long after the movies is gone and all the pictures I'll ever movefrom now on will be loaded on one of my wagons. Fare-thee-well, and Ihope they's no hard feelings. If they is, I ain't gonna sob out loudover it!"
For a minute Alex was speechless. Then he comes to and works a hourtryin' to get the ex-Delancey Calhoun to change his mind. They wasnothin' doin'. In fact, Delancey walked out and left us flat in themiddle of Alex's wail.
Well, anyways, Alex still had one satisfaction left and that was toprove to Eve and the wife that he had put over a truck driver as amovie star. He done it after dinner that night and if he caused anysensation, I failed to see it with the naked eye.
"Well," says Eve, "that proves my argument."
"Proves _your_ argument?" hollers Alex. "Didn't you claim movie starswas born, and didn't I take a truck driver and make him famous at it?"
"Yes," says Eve. "And then he went back to the trucking business,because he wasn't born an artist and the whole thing seemed silly tohim. He couldn't stand the make-believe any longer, because he had noimagination, no art--nothing but the stupid ability to make money!"
Alex sinks down in a chair and throws up his hands.
"Can you beat a woman?" he asks me.
"Not in this state," I says. "It's against the law."
"Come!" says Eve. "You boys are just in time. Carrington De Vire isdown at the Palace in 'The Arctic Sunflower.' I'm crazy to see it. Ithink he's wonderful!"
THE END