by H. C. Witwer
CHAPTER IV
LEND ME YOUR EARS
I don't mind a four-flusher if his stuff is good, know what I mean? Aguy that makes the world think he's there forty ways when as a matterof fact, he's _shy_ about sixty, deserves credit. Usually, them birdsget it too! They know more about credit than the guy that wrote it,and any butcher, grocer, tailor or the like who figures on 'em settlin'the old account has no right to be in business. The only time afour-flusher pays off is when he hits a new town. Then, if theattendance is good, he'll buy four or five evenin' papers right outloud in front of everybody, carelessly displayin' a couple of yellowbills that might be fifties--if they wasn't tens. After that outburst,all he spends is the week end.
For the benefit of them which live in towns where the total vote forPresident sounds like the score of a world series game, I'll explainwhat a four-flusher is, although they probably got one in their midst,at that. You'll generally find _one_ wherever there's two people--menor women. A four-flusher is a guy who claims he can lick Jack Dempseyin a loud and annoyin' voice, and then runs seven blocks in fiveminutes flat when some hick in the back room arises to remark that he'swillin' to take a beatin' for Jack. A four-flusher is the bird thatbreezes down Main street in a set of scenery that would make John Drewlook like one of the boys in the gas main trenches somewheres inBroadway, and yet couldn't purchase an eraser, if rubber was sellin' atthree cents a ton. A four-flusher is a hick that admits bein' a bettersinger than Caruso, a better ball-player than Ty Cobb, a better realestate judge than Columbus and more of a chance taker than Napoleon.
The first time he starts at any one of them things, he's a odds-onfavorite for last and finishes ten lengths behind the rest of thefield. That's a four-flusher.
A guy can be taught paintin', pinochle, politics and prohibition, but afirst-class four-flusher is _born_ that way!
Takin' 'em as a league, I'm about as fond of them guys as a worm is ofa fisherman. The only one I ever fell for was J. Harold Cuthbert, andthat bird had somethin' that the others didn't--he was different! Ithought I had seen 'em all, but this guy crossed me, his stuff was new!
The way I met Harold was almost romantic. He was reclinin' on theground in a careless manner about ten feet away from the main entranceto Film City, and he looked like the loser in a battle royal where theweapons used had been picked out by a guy who hoped there'd be nosurvivors. He was gazin' up at what the natives insist is a bettergrade of sky than anything we got in the East, and he looked like hewas tryin' to figure whether they was right or not. About two feetaway, lumberman's measure, observin' the wreck and yawning was FrancisXavier Scanlan, known to the trade as Kid Scanlan, welterweightchampion of the world and Shantung. I looked around for a director anda camera man, but they was nobody else in sight, so figurin' thiscouldn't be nothin' more than a dress rehearsal, I stepped over to theKid.
"Who's your friend?" I asks him, noddin' to the sleepin' beauty.
"I seen Genaro lookin' for you," says the Kid. "I'll bet you been overto Frisco tryin' to nail that dame at the Busy Bee, ain't you?"
"A gambler will never get nowheres," I tells him, "but you're startin'off with a win on that bet!" I points at the model for still lifeagain. "When does that guy get up?" I inquires.
The Kid looks down at him for a minute, proddin' him carelessly withhis foot.
"Weather permittin'," he answers, "he ought to be on his feet in fivemore minutes, and I'd never have raised a finger to him, if he hadn'tcome at me first!"
"D'ye mean to say you been wallopin' that guy?" I says.
"Well, what does it look like?" sneers the Kid. "A man's got a rightto protect himself, ain't he?"
"He hit you, eh?" I says.
"No!" answers the Kid. "He didn't get that far with it, but he claimedhe was goin' to, and naturally it was up to me to stop him from gettin'in a brawl. I never seen a gamer guy in my life, either," he goes on,admirin'ly. "He knows he'll catch cold layin' on the ground like that,and yet the minute I stung him he takes a dive and stays down!"
By this time our hero has risen to his feet and, while dustin' off hisclothes, he looks like he's figurin' whether he ought to claim he'dbeen doped and ask for a return bout, or call it a day and let it go atthat. Except for where the Kid had jabbed him, he wasn't a bad lookin'bird, his best bets bein' a crop of dark, wavy hair and a set offeatures which any movie leadin' man could give ten thousand bucks forand make it up on the first picture. The suit of clothes he waswearin' had probably put the tailor over, and he also had two yellowgloves and a little trick cane. He walks over to where me and the Kidwas standin' and takes off his hat. It was one of them dashin',devilish soft things that has names like Pullman cars--you know, "TheBryn Mawr, $2.50. All Harvard Wears One." Then he points at the Kidwith his cane.
"I made a serious error," he remarks, "in engaging in a brawl with athug! I thought you would meet me with a gentleman's weapons and--"
"I ain't got a marshmallow on me," butts in the Kid, grinnin', "or Iwould have done that thing. You come at me without no warnin', didn'tyou?"
"Merciful Heaven, what grammar!" says the other guy. "I didn't come atyou, as you say in that quaint English of yours, I thought you couldtake a joke or--"
"Yeh?" interrupts the Kid. "That's what the formerly Kaiser has beentryin' to tell the world, but it ain't goin' into hysterics over hiscomedy!"
"Well," says the other guy, buttonin' up his coat and glarin' at usboth, "this is not the end of the incident, you can rest assured ofthat! The next time we meet I think the result will be different!"
"Say!" pipes the Kid. "What d'ye think I'm gonna do--fight a worldseries with you? If you wanna scrap, I know where you can get all theaction you can handle."
"And where is that, pray?" asks the other guy.
"Russia!" says the Kid. "You must have seen it in the papers." Hepats him on the shoulder. "And now, good-by and good luck," he goeson. "I'm sorry I had to bounce you, but--"
"Enough of this nonsense!" cuts in the other guy, pullin' out a cardand passin' it over to the Kid. "My seconds will wait upon youto-morrow. I choose rapiers!"
"You which?" says the Kid, examinin' the card. "I don't make you."
"I said that my choice of weapons is rapiers!" explains this guy. "Andas a matter of fairness I must tell you that I have never met my equalwith a sword!"
"Are you tryin' to kid me?" asks Scanlan. "What d'ye mean rapiers?"
"Is it possible you have never handled a blade?" exclaims the otherguy, like he couldn't have heard it right.
"I used to, at that," admits the Kid, "but now I use a fork, except topat down the potatoes!"
"So much the worse for you, then!" frowns the sword-swallower. "Butyou brought it upon yourself. Remember, to-morrow! And--" he stoopsover and hisses, "--rapiers, without buttons!"
"Ha, ha!" yells the Kid. "Raypeers without buttons! How are you gonnahold 'em up?"
"Your ignorance is pathetic--not funny!" answers the other guy.
"I know," says the Kid. "I barely got through Yale!" He lays his armon this guy's shoulder. "Are you on the level with this fight thing?"he asks him.
"I was never more in earnest in my life!" says the knife-thrower.
"Or nearer Heaven!" grins the Kid. "All right!" he goes on. "I'mgame, if you are, only there's just one question I'd like to ask beforethe slaughter begins; don't _I_ get no say about the tools we're gonnause?"
This guy thinks for a minute and then nods his head.
"Very well!" he says. "I'll make the concession--an unheard-of thingin the code. What is your choice?"
"Pinochle!" yells the Kid. "I'll stake you to a hundred aces and beatyou from here to Denver!"
"Ugh!" snorts the other guy--and castin' a sneer at both of us, hepasses in the gate.
We went in after him, and the Kid tells me how he come to flatten thisbaby, which, from the card he give us, was J. Harold Cuthbert. The Kidsays Harold stopped him outside the portals o
f Film City and asked himwhy no auto had met him at the train. Scanlan says he didn't know, buthe had seen the mayor and two brass bands goin' down and hadn't Haroldmet 'em? Harold says he had not and he was gonna file a complaintabout it, because he was the greatest movie actor that ever bawled outa director. With that, says the Kid, he reeled off the names of thepictures he had been featured in, and from the list he give out theonly thing he wasn't featured in was "Microbes at Play," a educationalfilm tore off by the company last year. The Kid asks him if he everheard of Kid Scanlan, the shop girls' delight, who was bein' starred ina five-reeler called "Lay Off, MacDuff." Harold throwed out his chestand says he wrote it and practically made Scanlan by directin' it. Atthat the Kid tells him that he may be a movie star, but he looks like aliar to him. Harold makes a pass at him, and Scanlan hit him to seewould he bounce. He didn't, and he was just comin' around when Iblowed on the scene.
When we got to Genaro's office, Harold was tellin' Eddie Duke thereason he was bunged up was because he had fell off the train comin'out, and Eddie says that was tough and it was time Congress got afterthem railroads, but the thing he'd like to know was why Harold had comeout at all. They had looked up the files and there was nothin' to showwho had ordered this guy shipped on.
Harold looks over the bunch in the office for a minute, registers"I-am-thinking-deeply," and then snaps his fingers.
"Oh!" he says. "I had a letter of introduction from Mr. Potts, but Isuppose it's in my gray morning suit which will arrive with my trunksin a day or so. Mr. Potts and myself are old friends," he winks atGenaro confidentially. "I really think my father owns a slew of thecompany's stock, but then Dad is connected with so many vastenterprises that--"
"Joosta wan minoote!" interrupts Genaro, turnin' a cold eye on Harold."Joosta wan minoote! We're very busy joosta now, sometime nex' weekeverybody she'sa listen about your father. What we wanna know is whatMeester Potts he'sa senda you out here to do?"
"Yeh!" says Duke. "That's the idea--what's your act?"
"Why, I intend to play romantic leads," pipes Harold, "and I have anidea that--"
"Ha, ha!" laughs the Kid. "That's fair enough. All Edison had was aidea, and look at him now!"
Harold frowns at him and walks over to Miss Vincent.
"How do you do, Miss Vincent," he says, takin' off his hat andpresentin' her with a bow. "I knew you at once from your photographs.I have a remarkable memory, inherited from my father. The late J. P.Morgan once said of him, during the course of a gigantic stock deal,that--but enough of personalities. I saw you in the 'Escapades ofEva.'"
"Did you like me?" smiles Miss Vincent.
"Very much!" Harold tells her. "Although the mediocre support andexecrable direction spoiled most of your opportunities. Now if _I_ haddirected that picture, you would have been a great deal--"
"Joosta wan minoote!" butts in Genaro, gettin' red in the face. "I,Genaro, directed that picture!"
Harold looks over at him and lights a cigarette.
"Well," he says, flickin' the ash in Genaro's drinkin' glass, "Idaresay you did your best! But had _I_ been there when the picture wasbeing produced, I would have suggested a great many things that wouldhave greatly improved it. I remember calling Belasco's attention to adetail one time and Dave said to me--"
"Enough!" snaps Genaro, glarin' at him. "You will report to MeesterDuke. He'sa tella you what to do. Or maybe," he snorts, "maybe _you_tella heem!"
And he stamps out of the office.
"What a quaint little man!" says Harold, sittin' down in Genaro's chairand glancin' with interest over some letters that was on his desk."How do those chaps ever get into the movies?"
"Ow!" whispers Duke. "If the quaint little man had only heard that!"He turns, to Harold. "I don't know where I can place you right away,"he says. "How are you on Shakespeare? We're putting on a seven reelerof 'As You Like It' with Betty Vincent as Rosalind. Do you think youcould do Orlando?"
Harold throws out his chest and sneers.
"What a question!" he remarks. "I could eat it up!"
"I don't want you to eat it," says Duke, gettin' sore. "If you canplay it, I'll be satisfied! You had better go over and register at thehotel now, and, when you come back, we'll go over the thing."
Harold gets up, yawns and looks at Miss Vincent.
"I'll show you an entirely new interpretation of Rosalind, MissVincent," he tells her. "Of course, Shakespeare was clever after afashion, but _I_--however," he breaks off and holds out his arm."Would you care to walk about the grounds here a bit, so that I mayillustrate some of the salient points in my version?"
"No!" cuts in the Kid, before she can answer. "On your way!" he says."Miss Vincent's got a date with me to find out is it true you can makeninety miles an hour in a 1921 Automatic!"
"But--but, my dear sir--" splutters Harold. "I--you--"
"Listen, Stupid," says the Kid. "I can't be bouncin' you all day, butif you don't canter along, I'll make you hard to catch!"
Miss Vincent smiles and grabs the Kid by the arm.
"Let us have no violence!" she says. "You can tell me all aboutRosalind when I return, Mr. Cuthbert."
"Yeh," adds the Kid. "I'll be willin' to stand for a earful of itmyself, then."
And they breeze out of the office.
"Heavens, what an uncouth ruffian!" pipes Harold, lookin' after 'em."I wonder Miss Vincent trusts herself in his company."
"She's a whole lot safer with him than you'd be, old top!" I says."And if I was you, I'd lay off that uncouth ruffian stuff around theKid. Don't keep temptin' him, because he's liable to get sore, andwhen Scanlan gets mad you want to be in the next county!"
"Huh!" sneers Harold. "What does he do, pray?"
"Well," I says, "I'll tell you. I don't get that dewpray thing ofyours, but the last time the Kid got peeved he won the welterweighttitle! Is that good enough?"
"He had better look to his laurels," remarks Harold, "for if he insultsme again, he'll lose them! I'm rather a master of boxing, and at homeI won several medals as an amateur heavy--"
"I suppose," I butts in, "I suppose you left them medals in one of themgray mornin' suits of yours, eh? You didn't have 'em on when the Kidflattened you, did you?"
"I am not fond of vulgar display," he says, "or--"
"What are you wearin' that black eye for then?" I asks him.
He didn't have none ready for that, and I blew.
Well, Harold run true to form.
The next afternoon I seen Duke standin' near the African Desert. Hewas callin' upon Heaven in a voice that could be heard plainly in CapeMay, N. J., to ask it if it had ever seen a actor like J. HaroldCuthbert. Not gettin' no answer, he turned his attention to the otherplace, and when he seen me he put it up to me.
"What's the matter with Harold?" I asks him. "I thought he was gonnabe a knockout in this Shakespeare stuff."
"He was!" says Duke. "The camera men are laughin' yet! Alongside ofthat big four-flusher, Kid Scanlan would look like Richard Mansfield!"
"He's rotten, eh?" I says.
"Rotten?" yells Duke. "Why, say--callin' him _rotten_ is givin' him a_boost_! If that big stiff is an actor, I'm mayor of Shantung! Hedon't know if grease paint is to put on your face or to seal letterswith, he's got the same faculty of expression on that soft putty map ofhis as an ox has, he makes love like a wax dummy and he come out toplay 'As You Like It' in a dress suit! It took eight supers to keephim away from in front of the camera, and he played one scene with hisface glued up against the lens!"
Just then Harold himself eases into view with the Kid taggin' along athis side. Scanlan is excited about somethin' and wavin' his arms, butHarold still has that old sneer on his face, and as they come up, Ihear him sayin' this,
"My dear fellow, I know more about auction pinochle than Hoyle. Athome I am recognized as the champion card player of--" He breaks off,when he sees us, and turns to Duke. "Hello!" he calls over. "Are youready to admit now that my
idea of making feature productions is theright one?"
"No!" snarls Duke. "But I'll concede that as an actor you're acrackerjack bartender! D'ye mean to tell me that you got away withthat kind of stuff in the studios back East?"
"I introduced it!" says Harold, proudly. "As a director for some ofthe largest film companies in the world, I have put on hundreds of--"
"The only thing you ever put on was your hat!" interrupts Duke. "And Ibet that give you trouble on account of the size of your head. Isuppose you're gonna tell me that you're also a scenario writer, acamera man and the guy that got Nero's permission to film the burnin'of Rome, eh?"
"The last is something of an exaggeration," pipes Harold, "but as faras the other things you mentioned are concerned, I must confess thatthere are few people in the business who have approached me!"
"Ain't that rich?" whispers the Kid to me. "You got to hand it to thisbird!"
"You'd be a wonder as a press agent!" I says to Harold.
"Now that's odd you should remark that," he smiles. "For, as a matterof fact, I excel in _that_ field! I did all the press work for--"
"Columbus!" yells Duke, wavin' him off. "Good-by!" he goes on. "I gotenough! You got a liar lookin' like George Washington!"
Harold looks after Duke as he went into the office.
"Heavens!" he says. "I can't stand that man with his petty littlejealousies! Now when I--"
I don't know what the rest of it was, because me and the Kid left himto tell it to the African Desert.
Well, Genaro bein' afraid to get in dutch with Potts, which accordin'to Harold was a ex-roommate of his, give this guy a crack at everythingfrom directin' to supin', and Harold hit .000 at 'em all. The onlything he seemed to be any good at was talkin' about himself, and he waschampion of the world at that! He was willin' to concede thatWellington beat Napoleon and it was Fulton who doped out the steamboat,but _he_ was the guy that had put over everything else. His favoriteword only had one letter in it, and that's the one that comes rightafter H. No matter what subject would come up anywheres where Haroldcould get a earful of it, he was the bird that invented it!
We went down to Montana Joe's one afternoon to deal prohibition a blow,and the Kid gets talkin' about drinkin' as a art, carelessly lettin'fall the information that, before he had put the Demon Rum down for thecount, he had been looked on as a champion at goin' through the rye.He winks at Joe and orders a tumbler of private stock. Harold neverbats a eye, but says he's got a roomful of lovin' cups which was givehim for emptyin' bottles. Joe sets down a mixin' glass full of boozebefore the Kid, and Scanlan looks at Harold and asks Joe what was thematter with the shaker. Harold coughs and raps on the bar. "You maylet me have a seidel of gin!" he says, sneerin' at the Kid--and we allfainted!
He got run out the south gate one afternoon by a enraged scene painterfor tellin' the latter that he could shut both eyes, bind one arm, layflat on his side and paint a better exterior than the two hundreddollar a week decorator, and he started a riot in the developin' roomanother time by remarkin' that the bunch in there didn't know how topaste up film--adding of course, that _he_ did. He tried to show VanAylstyne how to write scenarios, and Van Aylstyne threatened to quitcold if Harold wasn't called off, and when he found fault with Genaro'slightin' of a night scene, Genaro chased him all over the place with apractical shotgun.
It wouldn't have been so bad, if Harold had come through on_somethin'_. If he had discovered _anything_, he could actually doeven half way decent, he would have got away with murder. Butno!--That bird was the original No Good Nathan, from Useless, Miss.
The fact that he didn't cause no sensation in our midst, worried Haroldabout as much as the price of electric fans keeps 'em awake in Iceland.There was only one thing Harold was afraid of--and that was lockjaw!
Then Potts blows in unexpected one afternoon, and we all stood aroundto see him and Harold fall on each other's neck. In fact, pretty neareverybody in Film City watched the reunion which took place on the edgeof the Street Scene in Tokio--it was very affectin'.
Potts comes walkin' along with three supers and Eddie Duke carryin' hissuitcases, when Harold bumps into the parade at the corner. Genaro hadsent him over to Frisco for a lot of props that would be needed in apicture he was puttin' on, and naturally, now that Potts was on hand,he was anxious to have everything O.K. He had give Harold a list inthe mornin' that read like a inventory of a machine shop, and here'sfriend Harold comin' back with nothin' in his hands but his fingers.
"The props--where are they?" shrieks Genaro. "Seven hour you have beengone and you come back with nothing! Everything she'sa ready and wemusta wait till you come with the props--where are they--queek?"
"My dear fellow," says Harold, bowin' to Miss Vincent, "there is noexcuse for addressing me before these ladies and gentlemen in thatruffianly manner. I was unable to carry out your--er--orders thismorning, having overlooked a trifling detail in the scurry and bustleof catching that ungodly early train."
"What!" screams Genaro, doin' a few cabaret steps. "You got nothing?_Sapristi_! What you do--make fun of me? Why you no get those props?"
"Calm yourself!" pipes Harold. "I'll tell all. I forgot the list ofarticles you gave me and--"
"Aha--he'sa maka me crazee!" yelps Genaro, pullin' a swell clog step."Take heem away before I keel heem!"
Just then Potts comes by, and we all yell, "Welcome to Film City, Mr.Potts!" Harold hears this and turns pale. He seen we was all watchin'closely for the grand reunion between him and his old college chumPotts. He coughs a couple of times and takes a step forward. That boywas game!
"How do you do, Mr. Potts?" he says. "Did you--er--have a pleasanttrip?"
"Yes," answers Potts, lookin' at him kinda puzzled. "What is your nameagain? I don't seem to recall it!"
And the boss was supposed to be Harold's dear old college chum!
"Why--er--why--ha! ha!" pipes Harold, dyin' game. "That's odd! Surelyyou recall--eh--Cuthbert, my name is, you must remember--eh--why in NewYork we--eh--"
He's about eighty feet up in the air and still soaring with the wholebunch watchin' him and enjoyin' the thing out loud. Potts is lookin'him over like he's a strange fish or somethin'.
"I think you're mistaken!" pipes the boss, cuttin' in on Harold, "Inever saw you before in my life!"
With that he passes on, leavin' Harold flat and with no more friendsthan China had at the Peace Conference.
After that little incident, it was about as pleasant for Harold in FilmCity as it was for a German in Liverpool durin' the war. Genaro, Dukeand everybody else went out of their way to make him sick of themovies, but Harold stuck around and took whatever odd jobs that comehis way with the remark that he could do it better than anybody elseand that was why they give it to him.
I made a mistake when I said everybody rode him--he had three littlepals. They was Miss Vincent, the Kid and yours in the faith. MissVincent claimed that after all he was only a boy which would grow outof lyin', if give enough time, and it was a outrage the way everybodypicked on him. The Kid said we couldn't all be perfect, and MissVincent would give him back his presents if he laid off Harold. _My_excuse for not shootin' Harold was that I liked one thing about him,and that was the way he hung on, no matter how they was breakin' forhim. He was no good all over, but he wouldn't _quit_ and any guy thatcould stand up under punishment like he did is worth a cheer anytime--and sometimes a bet!
I thought I'd brighten his life by tellin' him how he stood with thethree of us. I pictured him goin' down on his knees and thankin' mewith tears in his eyes, when I said that we was with him to the bitterend. He must have had rheumatism or a pair of charley horses, becausehe failed to do any kneelin' where I could see it, and his eyes was asdry as the middle of Maine. Instead of that, he took me for ten bucksand said the news was no surprise to him. He didn't see how MissVincent could miss likin' him, because he had been a assassin with thewomen from birth. As for the Kid, well, it was comm
on talk thatScanlan was afraid of him, and I was nothin' but a sure-thing playerwhich knowed he was a winner and stuck, hopin' I'd cash.
Could you tie Harold?
Van Aylstyne, the guy that committed the scenarios, went out one nightto get some atmosphere for a thriller at Montana Joe's. He got theatmosphere O.K., bringin' most of it back on his breath and the Kidasked him to stick out his tongue so he could see was they any revenuestamps on it. In the mornin' he grabbed a container of ice water and apen and dashed off a atrocity in five reels based on what atmosphere ofMontana Joe's that was still with him. He called the thing "The End ofthe World!" Potts says the title alone sounded good enough to him toremove the bumpers from his bankroll without lookin' further, addin',in a loud aside, that if the plot wasn't a knockout, Van Aylstyne couldchange the title to "The End of My Job!" De Vronde, the popularheart-breaker, is given the lead opposite Miss Vincent, and, of course,Kid Scanlan is to be dragged in as a special feature. Harold hashypnotised Genaro into lettin' him take off a "enter with others" inthe first reel. Everything was ready to have the cameras pointed atit, when somethin' come along that balled it all up.
Her name was Gladys O'Hara.
Gladys was no ravin' beauty and I heard her say "ain't it" twice, butshe was one of them dames that the first flash you get at 'em youwonder are they still enforcin' the law against mashers! She had awonderful complexion and although if you looked close you could see shehad give nature a helpin' hand, she did the retouchin' so well that youwas glad she had. She had one of the latest model, twin-six figuresand she dressed with the idea of givin' the natives a treat, even ifshe was takin' chances on pneumonia. Gladys was the kind of dame thatstarts the arguments in the newspapers on what is our offices comin'to, look how them stenographers dress!
When J. Harold Cuthbert met Gladys, she had got as far as bein' asaleslady in the Busy Bee, Frisco. She could have beat that with hereyes closed, but Gladys kept hers open and, bein' a female wise guy,she knew who to eat lunch with and who to say, "I don't get you!"to--which is a art! As a result, she had never got no further thansellin' shirtwaists and had her first home to break up. She neveradvanced beyond that counter--up or down! Many a necktie salesman hadflashed Gladys and gone right out to buy the tickets, before he evenasked her would she look over a show, windin' up by throwin' 'em awayand tellin' her what a sweet old woman his mother was and how strong hewas for his own gas meter. That was Gladys. She looked like what shewasn't, and she fooled 'em all.
All but Harold!
I found Gladys very easy to look at myself, and I helped the Sante Feover a tough year by runnin' over to Frisco to the Busy Bee whenever Icould get away. It took me a short month to find out that I had thesame chance of winnin' out as I'd have of gettin' elected King ofMontenegro by acclamation, because Harold had been there first and gotin his deadly work.
I was standin' in the next aisle to where Gladys held forth, oneafternoon, waitin' for a couple of fatheads to call it a day and moveaway from the counter, when along comes Harold. As usual, he was alldressed up like a horse, with the even fare back to Film City in themone-way pockets of his. He butts right into the conversation, and Inearly fainted when he passes a box of candy over to Gladys. Then Iseen the label on the package, and I revived, because it was one of adozen that some simp had sent Miss Vincent and in order to please theKid she had give 'em all away. Harold had brought his all the way overto Frisco on a ticket furnished by the Maudlin Movin' Picture Company,which sent him over for props.
Well, Harold gets warmed up and in a minute he's press agentin' himselfat the rate of fifty-five words a minute--I clocked him! He tellsGladys he's bein' _starred_ in "The End of the World" and the amount ofmoney they're payin' him would startle Europe, if it ever got out. Heclaims he made 'em all faint at the rehearsals and offers from othercompanies is comin' in so fast that he's got a charley horse on histhumb from openin' telegrams. From that he works into the fact thatafter the picture is made he's gonna run around Europe--that's just theway he said it, "Run around Europe!" Oh, boy!--that bein' the way heusually spent his vacations. When Gladys staggers over to wait on acustomer, Harold charges himself up again and when she comes back he'soff to a runnin' start. He remarks that his father has just made akillin' in Wall Street that has caused Rockefeller to weep and gnashhis teeth and that the last affair his mother give at Newport got fourcolumns on the front page, although the mayor of the town had been shotthe same afternoon.
Gladys takes this all in with her mouth as open as Kelly pool and hereyes half closed and dreamy like she was dyin' happy.
When Harold put on the brakes and eased up, she throwed him a look thatI would have walloped Dempsey for. Harold says he must go, because thepicture would be ruined if he wasn't there to direct it, and Gladysholds out a tremblin' hand. Then Harold plays his ace--he takes offhis hat, bows, kisses that hand and blows.
When I seen Gladys deliberately walk back of the wrappin' booth, puther hand to her lips and kiss it herself--I pulled my hat down over myears and went back to Film City.
The next mornin' they begin work on the first reel of "The End of theWorld," and Harold had a field day at bein' rotten. He got ineverybody's way, ruined twenty feet of film by firin' off a cannon atthe wrong time and made Genaro hysterical by gettin' caught in a papiermache tower and pullin' it down. Not content with that, he goes backof a interior to try out one of the Kid's cigarettes and by simplyflickin' the thing into a can of kerosene he set the Maudlin Movin'Picture Company back about five hundred bucks.
They run him out of the picture, and he went, yellin' that it would bea farce without him in it.
About four o'clock me and the Kid is trottin' along the road outside ofFilm City like we did every day so's Scanlan could keep in condition,when we all but fell over Harold. He's sittin' on a rock and gazin'off very sad in the general direction of New York. His dashin',smashin', soft hat was yanked down over his home-breakin' face, and hisdimpled chin was buried in his lily white hands. He looked like a guythat has worked twenty-seven years inventin' a new steamboat and thenseen it sink the first time he tried it out.
The Kid runs over and slaps him on the back just hard enough to makehis hat fall off.
"Cheer up, Cutey!" pipes Scanlan. "They can't hang a guy for tryin'!"
Harold retrieves his hat, smoothes it out carefully and lets loose thegloomiest sigh I ever heard in my life.
"Have you a cigarette?" he asks sadly.
The Kid pulls out a deck, and Harold takes two, droppin' one in hispocket.
"Alas!" he remarks, strikin' a match on my shoe. "Alas!"
"When can the body be seen?" asks Scanlan. "And is it a church funeralor will they pull it off at the house?"
"This is no time for levity," mutters Harold. "I'm ruined!"
"I only got ten bucks with me," the Kid tells him, "but I'll partwith--"
"Poof!" sneers Harold, wavin' his hands like a head waiter. "Money! Iam not in need of that. Why, my father--" He breaks off to take thebill from the Kid's hand and shove it in his pocket. "Rather thanoffend you!" he explains. "No," he goes on, "this is a more seriousmatter than money. I--" He flicks away the cigarette, jumps up offthe rock and gives us both the up and down. "I am going to take youtwo into my confidence," he says, "and perhaps you will help me."
"Go on!" encourages the Kid. "I'm all worked up--shoot it!"
"Well, then," says Harold, with the air of a guy pleadin' guilty tosave his old father. "In the first place, my name is not J. HaroldCuthbert!"
There was no answer from us, and Harold seemed peeved because we hadnot collapsed at his confession.
"What is it?" I asks, when the silence begin to hurt the ears.
"Trout!" pipes Harold, bitterly. "Joe Trout!"
"Yeh?" says the Kid. "Well, what's the matter with that? What did youcan it for?"
"Ha, ha!" hisses Harold, with a "curse you!" giggle. "Where could aman get with a name like _that_?"
&
nbsp; "In the aquarium!" yells the Kid. "I knew you'd fall!"
Harold shakes his head and blows himself to another sigh.
"Imagine a moving picture leading man named Trout!" he goes on. "Ichanged my name as a sacrifice to the movies, for--"
"Just a minute!" I butts in. "On the level now, where _did_ you getyour movin' picture experience?"
"As assistant bookkeeper in a grocery store!" he answers. "Now youhave it!"
"But you said your father was a big man in Wall Street!" I busts out.
"He is!" answers Harold, lookin' over at the Santa Fe. "They don'tcome any bigger. He's a traffic policeman at the corner of Broadwayand Wall Street and stands six foot four in his socks!"
"Sweet Cookie!" shouts the Kid, and falls off the rock.
When we recover from that, Harold has smoked the other cigarette, andhe nods for my box. Then he asks us do we want to hear the rest.
"If you don't tell it," says the Kid, "you'll never leave here alive!Hurry up, I'm dyin' to hear it!"
"Well," says the ex-J. Harold Cuthbert, "I am about to be married andat the eleventh hour Nemesis has gripped me. I told my fiancee that Iwas being featured in 'The End of the World' and that it would beexceedingly easy for me to get _her_ a part in the picture--she havingexpressed a desire to that effect at various times. She will be herewithin the hour to watch me being filmed and to hold me to my promiseto place her as leading woman opposite me." He stops and moans."Gentlemen," he goes on, "picture for yourself the contretemps when shefinds I am nothing but a super and that Genaro wouldn't give SarahBernhardt a job on a recommendation from me! My romance will beshattered, and the--the humiliation will kill me!"
There was a heavy silence for a minute, and then the Kid whistles.
"Well, pal," he says, "you have certainly balled things up a few,haven't you?"
Joe Trout just let loose another moan.
"Gimme one of them good cigarettes!" pipes the Kid to me. He lights itand looks over at friend Joe. "The first thing," he says, puffin'away; "the first thing, is this--just how _much_ do you think of thisdame, all jokes aside?"
Joe turns around and straightens up, for once in his life lookin' likethe real thing.
"I love her!" he says. That was all--but the way he pulled it was aplenty!
The Kid grunts and tosses away the pill. Then he walks over to Joe andslaps him on the back.
"Listen!" he says. "You ain't a bad guy at that. I'm gonna give yousomethin' I never took in my life--advice! Why don't you lay off lyin'about yourself, kid? Why don't you can that four-flush thing?"
The effect of them simple words on Joe was remarkable. He swung aroundon us so quick that we both ducked, thinkin' he was comin' back with awallop--but his hands was sunk so deep in his coat pockets they likedto pushed through the linin' and his face was as hard and white as aniceberg.
"Because!" he shoots out through his teeth. "_Because I can't_!"
Y'know the change was so sudden, I remember lettin' out a littlenervous laugh, and then sidesteppin' a vicious left the Kid sent at me.Scanlan had turned as serious as the other guy.
"What d'ye mean, you _can't_?" he says, grabbin' Joe by the arm andholdin' him fast. Joe's face showed how hard he was fightin' to keepfrom fallin' apart.
"You won't understand!" he answers in a hard voice. "But I'll tellyou. The thing has grown upon me until I cannot shake it off! I guessI was born a liar and probably four-flushed my nurse when I was threedays old. When I was a boy, my incessant lying, although it harmed noone but myself, kept me in countless scrapes. As I grew older, thehabit grew stronger and I lost girls, jobs, friends and opportunitieswith breath-taking rapidity. Time after time I have sworn to ridmyself of the thing and speak nothing but the undiluted truth, and thefirst time I open my mouth I find myself unconsciously telling the mostastounding falsehoods about myself with an ease that nauseates me!" Hetore himself loose from the Kid and kicked a innocent tomato can downthe canyon. "I know I'm nothing but a big four-flusher," he winds up,"and I can't help it!"
Right then and there I warmed up to Joe Trout like I never had before.After all, Miss Vincent had the right dope--he was nothin' but a bigkid at that, and any guy that will come right out in public and admithe's a false alarm, deserves credit!
"Well," he says after a minute, "I suppose you're both through with menow, eh?"
"Do I look like a quitter?" demands the Kid.
"I'm still here, ain't I?" I chimes in.
Joe coughs and took hold of our hands.
"Thanks!" he mutters. "And now---"
"Listen!" interrupts the Kid. "I got the whole thing doped out. Whenis this dame of yours due to hit Film City?"
"She'll be here on that one o'clock train," moans Joe.
"Fine!" says the Kid. "Now get this! De Vronde is supposed to do afall from a horse in 'The End of the World' and the big yellow bumwon't do it. They're lookin' for some guy that will take his place,just for that one flash, see? Now suppose I fix it so you get thatchance and when the dame comes on, there you are playin' the lead asfar as she can see, in the best part of the frolic. How's that?"
I thought Joe was gonna kiss him!
"I'll never forget it!" he hollers. "You have saved my life! What canI do to repay you?"
"Stop four-flushing," comes back the Kid, "and be on the level!"
"I'll do it, if it kills me!" promises Joe--and I don't know whether hemeant the fall or the other.
"Can you ride a horse?" the Kid asks him as we start back.
"Can _I_ ride a horse?" repeats Joe, stoppin' short. "What a question!Why at home I was the champion--"
"Now, now!" butts in the Kid. "There you go again!"
"Pardon me!" says Joe, gettin' red--and he quits!
Well, the Kid fixed it all right, so's Joe could double for De Vrondein that one place where he did the fall. I don't know how he did itany more than I know how Edison come to think of the phonograph, but hedid! All my suspicions as to who the dame was come true when Gladyshops off the one o'clock train that afternoon. I seen her talkin' toEddie Duke near the African Desert, and I immediately went scoutin'around for Joe, because Eddie liked him the same way the brewers isinfatuated with the Anti-Saloon League and I knowed if Eddie got achance to harpoon Joe with Gladys, he'd do that thing.
About half a hour later, Genaro asks me to go over and find Potts,because they're ready to start shootin' the picture and when I got nearthe hotel I seen a couple of people blockin' the little narrow passagein back of it. They was Gladys O'Hara and Joe Trout and when I gotclose up I heard Joseph talkin'. He was goin' like a house on fire andhis little old lyin' apparatus was hittin' on all cylinders and runnin'smooth without a break. He explains to Gladys that he went on only inthe important part of the picture which she would see in a minute, andthat De Vronde was only one of the cheap help who played the part while_he_ was restin' for the big scene. As soon as that come up--and hesaid the whole picture was built around it--they give De Vronde thegate and in went the darin' Joe.
He was all dressed up in a Stetson hat, a cute little yellow silkhandkerchief twisted around his manly neck and more chaps than any cowpuncher ever wore on his legs outside of a movie. He looked like whathe'd liked to have been.
"--and not only that," he winds up, "but they are going to feature myname on all the advertising for the picture!"
"Is that all?" asks Gladys in a queer little voice.
Joe looked surprised. I guess it was the first time anybody had askedfor more!
"Well--no!" he starts off again briskly. "Of course, I am--"
"Wait!" says Gladys, grabbin' his arm. "Don't tell me any more lies!They are not featuring you in this or any other picture! You are notthe leading man, you are only a super! Your father is not amillionaire and you cannot get me a job with the Maudlin Moving PictureCompany! You're simply a big four-flusher and that lets you out!"
Say! On the level, I thought Joe was gonna pass away on his feet
! IfI was give to faintin', I'd have been stretched out cold, myself. Hegot white and then he got red, then he got white again and red againfor fully a minute. He tried eighteen times by actual count to saysomething but that well known tongue of his had laid down at last andquit! He couldn't even raise a whisper.
"I knew you were four-flushin' the first time you started to hand methat stuff!" goes on Gladys, sweetly. "I happen to know the folkshere, includin' the leadin' man, De Vronde. He was hangin' around thatshirtwaist counter before you knew whether they made pictures here orsponge cake. Also, some of your friends come over from time to timeand tipped me off about you, so that I was all set when you started!"
Joe whirls around on her at that, and although this bird had beat me tothe wire with Gladys, I felt sorry for him right then. The poor kidwas hangin' on the ropes waitin' for somebody to throw in the sponge.
"If you knew all that," he says, kinda choked, "why--why did you let mecome over and continue to--to mislead you?"
Gladys coughs and places three or four stray hairs exactly back of herlittle white ear, gazin' at her wrist watch like it's the first timeshe ever seen one, and she's wonderin' can it really go. The big boobstands there lookin' at her and the chance of a couple of lifetimes isslippin' away. What? Say, listen! I don't know much aboutwomen--fighters is my line--but there was a look on Gladys's face thatI'd seen Genaro work two hours one time to put on Miss Vincent's whenthey was takin' a big picture. So you can figure she wasn'tregisterin' hate!
"Well, why?" demands Joe again.
"This stuff is all new to me," says Gladys, with a sigh, "but I guessI've got to do it!" She gazes at the ground and gets kinda red. "Itwas not your conversation that made the hit with me!" she winds upsoftly.
"I'm afraid I don't understand," pipes Senseless Joe.
"Heavens!" remarks Gladys. "There's enough concrete between your neckand your hat to build a bridge over the bay! I can safely say you'rethe first man I ever proposed to, but somebody's got to do it and Iguess I'm the goat!"
"What!" screams Joe, comin' to life at last."You--you--forgive--you--" The poor simp gets all excited and onceagain he can't talk and--I don't blame him. You never seen Gladys, andyou don't know how she looked right then!
"Say!" says Gladys. "Am I bein' kidded or--"
Joe might have been a tramp as a movie lover, but take it from me, asthe real thing he was no slouch! I hadda stand there and watch it,because I couldn't get past till they got away and if they'd ever seenme, I guess Joe would have bought a gun. Finally, they break, Gladyspushin' Joe away and holdin' him off.
"You've got to promise me you'll stop lyin' and four-flushin'!" shetells him. "Tell the truth and don't kid yourself that you'd have beenPresident, if you hadn't been jobbed. That stuff is poor and will getyou nowheres. Make good and you won't have to tell anybody aboutit--it'll be in the papers! As far as I can see, the best thing aboutyou right now is ME! If you can't get over with _that_, I'll see thatyou do!"
"We'll get married to-night!" yelps Joe. "There's a minister in FilmCity and--"
"Don't crowd me!" interrupts Gladys, lettin' herself be kissed. "Doyou promise?"
"Anything!" grins Joe.
"Just what _are_ you supposed to do in this picture?" she asks him.
"Fall off a horse!" says Joe.
"Is that all?" asks Gladys.
Joe nods.
"Well," Gladys tells him, "you won't do it! I don't want no crippledbridegroom at my weddin'. Now listen to me! If you could _write_ thatstuff you've been wastin' on the air around here, you ought to make apretty good press agent. Mr. Potts, the man who owns the company andthe fellow you or your father _never_ palled around with, has a man onhis payroll named Struther. He's head of what they call the publicitydepartment, it says so on ten of his cards I have. He once claimedhe'd do anything for me in such a loud voice that the floorwalker hadto speak to him. I'm goin' over to the office now and ask him to giveyou a job back in New York. To be perfectly truthful with you, that'swhat I came over here for to-day in the first place!"
"But--but," stammers Joe. "I can't have you asking favors for me,Gladys, and--and, why New York?"
"Because," she says, "that's where I come from, and I want to look atit again--I'm simply crazy to yell down a dumbwaiter and throw aquarter in my own gas meter!"
Well--that's about all. They had a big weddin' right in the middle ofFilm City and everybody sent in and bought 'em a present. Potts got aflash at Gladys, moans regretfully and has the ceremony filmed, givin'the result to Joe as a special gift. Of course Gladys got Joe thatjob. That dame could have got frankfurters and sourkraut in BuckinghamPalace! Before they left for New York, I tried Joe out.
"It'll be terrible here, when you're gone!" I says, "because you knowmore about makin' movies than Rockefeller does about oil."
Joe shakes his head and grins.
"No!" he says. "I guess I don't know much about anything!"
I pronounced him cured to myself and shook his hand. The Kid went tothe train with him and his bride. I didn't feel up to seein' that guygoin' away with Gladys.
I met the Kid as he was comin' up from the railroad station, and seein'he was laughin', I asked him if the happy pair got off all right.
"Yeh!" he says. "Everything went fine. Me and Miss Vincent waitedtill the train was pullin' out. Gladys was inside and Joe was standin'on the steps of the Pullman, talkin'. Just before the thing pulledout, I shook Joe's hand and said I hoped he got past in New York,because it was a big burg and a tough one for losers." The Kid stopsand laughs some more.
"Well," I says, "what's the joke?"
"Sweet Papa!" says the Kid, wipin' his eyes. "Joe's face lights all upand that old glitter comes back in his eyes!
"'Make good?' he yells to me. 'Well, I ought to make good--my fatherowns half the town, and I was the biggest thing in it when I left!'"