The Moving Picture Girls; Or, First Appearances in Photo Dramas Read online

  CHAPTER III

  THE OLD TROUBLE

  For a moment the girls faced each other with wide-opened eyes, thebrown ones of Alice gazing into the deep blue ones of Ruth. Ruth'seyes were not the ordinary blue--like those of a china doll. Theywere more like wood-violets, and in their depths could be read aliking for the unusual and romantic that was, in a measure, the keyto her character. Not for nothing had Alice laughed at her sister'slonging for a prince, on a milk-white steed, to come riding by. Ruthwas tall, and of that desirable willowy type, so much in demand oflate.

  Alice was just saved from being a "bread-and-butter" girl. That is,she had wholesomeness, with a round face, and ruddy cheeks--moredamask than red in color--but she also had a rollicking, good-natureddisposition, without being in the least bit tomboyish. She remindedone of a girl just out of school, eager for a game of tennis or golf.

  "Are you busy?" asked the voice on the other side of the door. "I cancall again!"

  "No, wait--Russ!" replied Ruth, with an obvious effort. "We had thechain on. We'll let you in!"

  The DeVeres had only known their neighbors across the hall sincecoming to the Fenmore Apartment. Yet one could not live near motherlyMrs. Sarah Dalwood and not get to know her rather intimately, in acomparatively short time. She was what would have been called, in thecountry, "a good neighbor." In New York, with its hurry and scurry,where people live for years in adjoining rooms and never speak, shewas an unusual type. She knew nearly every one in the bigapartment--which was almost more than the janitor and his wife couldboast.

  A widow with two sons, Mrs. Dalwood was in fairly goodcircumstances--compared with her neighbors. Her husband had left hera little sum in life insurance that was well invested, and Russ helda place as moving picture machine operator in one of the largest ofthose theaters. He earned a good salary which made it unnecessary forhis mother to go out to work, or to take any in, and his brotherBilly was kept at school. Billy was twelve, a rather nervous,delicate lad, liked by everyone.

  There was a rattle as the chain fell from the slotted slide on thedoor, and Alice opened the portal, to disclose the smiling and yetrather worried face of Russ. The girls had come to know him wellenough to call him by his first name, and he did the same to them. Itmight not be out of place to say that Russ admired Ruth very much.

  "I'm awfully sorry about what happened," began Russ. "You see Ididn't mean to shove that fellow so hard. But he was awfullypersistent, and I just lost my temper. I was afraid I'd shoved himdownstairs."

  "So were we," admitted Ruth, with a smile.

  "Did he try to come in here, to escape from you?" asked Alice, with afrank laugh.

  "Indeed he did not," replied Russ. "He caught at your door to savehimself from falling. I guess he thought I was going to hit him; butI wasn't. I just shoved him away to keep him from coming back intoour rooms again. Mother was a little afraid of him."

  "Was he--was he a----" Alice balked at the word "collector."

  "He was a fellow who's trying to steal a patent I'm working on!"exclaimed Russ, rather fiercely. "He's as unscrupulous as they come,and I didn't want him to get a foothold. So I just sent him abouthis business in a way I think he won't forget."

  "Oh, are you working on a patent?" cried Ruth. "How nice! What's itabout? Oh, I forgot! Perhaps you can't tell. It's a secret, Isuppose. All patents are."

  "Well, it isn't a secret from you folks," returned Russ. "I don'tmind telling you, even though I haven't perfected it yet."

  "Especially as you can be sure we girls wouldn't understand the leastthing about it--if it has anything to do with machinery," put inAlice, laughing.

  "Well, it is something about machinery," admitted Russ. "It issomething new to go on moving picture machines, to steady the film asit moves behind the lens. You've often noticed how jerky the picturesare at times?" he asked.

  "Yes; though we don't go very often," responded Ruth.

  "Well, I've made a simple little device that fits on the machine. Ineedn't go into all details--to tell you the truth I haven't got 'emall worked out yet; but I think it will be a good thing, and bring mein some money.

  "I've spoken to Mr. Frank Pertell, manager of the Comet Film Company,about it. I have done some work for him, you know. He says it willbe a good thing, and, while it may not make me a millionaire, it willhelp a lot. So I'm working hard on it."

  "But who was this man--what did he have to do with it?" asked Alice.

  "He didn't have anything to do with it--but he wanted to. His name isSimpson Wolley--Simp, he's called for short, though he is not assimple as his name sounds. He heard about my invention--how, I don'tknow--and he's trying to get it away from me."

  "Get it away from you?" echoed Alice.

  "Yes. He came to me and wanted me to sell him the rights, just as itwas, for a certain sum. I refused. Then to-day I came homeunexpectedly. I found him in the room where I work, looking over mydrawings and models. Mother had let him in to wait for me. She puthim in the parlor, but he sneaked into my room. That's why I sent himflying."

  "I don't blame you!" exclaimed Alice, with flashing eyes.

  "Only I'm sorry he disturbed you," went on Russ. "I didn't mean to bequite so hasty; but he got on my nerves, I expect."

  "Oh, that's all right," said Ruth, graciously.

  "Mother said you might be frightened," went on the young man, "soshe sent me here to tell you what it was."

  "Don't mention it," laughed Alice. "We were a bit frightened atfirst, and we put the chain on the door. But are you sure you're allright--that he won't come back again?"

  "Oh, you need not worry," Russ assured her. "He won't come hereagain; though I don't fancy I'm through with him. Simp Wolley hasn'tmuch principle, and I know a lot of fellows who have done businesswith him to their sorrow. But he'll have to work hard to fool me. Somy apology is accepted; is it?"

  "Of course," laughed Ruth, blushing more than before.

  Another step was heard in the hall.

  "There's dad!" cried Alice. "Oh, where have you been?" she exclaimed,as she ran to her father's arms.

  "I couldn't come sooner," the latter explained in his deep, mellowvoice--a voice that had endeared him to many audiences. "We had toarrange about the rehearsals. Haven't you a kiss for dad, Ruth" hewent on, putting his arms about the taller girl. "How are you, Russ?"and he nodded cordially. "Isn't it fine to have two such daughters asthese?" He held them to him--one on either side.

  "Father!" objected Ruth, blushing.

  "Ha! Ashamed of her old daddy hugging and kissing her; is she?" Mr.DeVere laughed. "Well, I am surprised; aren't you, Russ? Someday----"

  "Dad!" expostulated Ruth, blushing more vividly, and clapping a smallhand over her father's mouth. "You mustn't say such things!"

  "What things?" with a simulated look of innocent wonder.

  "What you were going to say!"

  "Well, as long as I didn't, no harm is done. What about lunch? I mustgo back this afternoon."

  "I'll see you again," called Russ, retiring, for he knew father anddaughters would want to exchange confidences.

  "It's good news, Russ!" called Alice, as he departed across the hall."Daddy has an engagement at last!"

  "Glad to hear it, Mr. DeVere. I knew you'd land one sooner or later."

  "Well, it came near being later, Russ, my boy."

  "Now, Daddy dear, tell us all about it," begged Alice, when they wereby themselves. "Isn't it just splendid! I wanted to get up abanquet, only there's nothing much on which to bank----"

  "Alice, dear--such slang!" reproved Ruth.

  "Never mind, better days are coming," said the actor. "At last I havea part just suited to me--one of the best for which I have ever beencast. It's with the 'A Matter of Friendship' company, and we open inabout three weeks at the New Columbia. I feel sure I'll make a hit,and the play is a very good one--I may say a fine one."

  "And you open in three weeks, you say, Dad?" asked Ruth,thoughtfully.

  "Yes; or, rather, in two weeks
from to-night. There are two weeks'rehearsals. But what--oh, I see. You mean there won't be any moneycoming in for three weeks--or until after the play has run a week.Well, never mind. I dare say we will manage somehow. I can likely getan advance on my salary. I'll see. And now for lunch. I'm as hungryas a stranded road company. What have you?"

  "Not so very much," confessed Ruth. "I was hoping----"

  There came a knock at the door.

  "Come!" invited Mr. DeVere, and Russ appeared.

  "Excuse this interruption," the young moving picture operator began,"but mother sent over to ask if you wouldn't take dinner with us. Wehave a big one. We expected my uncle and aunt, and they'vedisappointed us. Do come!"

  Alice and Ruth looked at each other. Then they glanced up at theirfather, who regarded them thoughtfully.

  "Well, I don't know," began the actor, slowly. "I--er----"

  "Mother will be disappointed if you don't come," urged Russ. "She haschicken and biscuit for dinner, and she rather prides herself on it.The dinner will be spoiled if it isn't eaten hot--especially thebiscuit, so she'll take it as a favor if you'll come over, and takethe places of my uncle and aunt. Do come!" and he looked earnestly atRuth.

  "Well, what do you say, girls? Shall we accept of our neighbor'shospitality?" asked Mr. DeVere.

  "Please do!" exclaimed Alice, in a tense whisper. "You know wehaven't got a decent thing to eat in the ice box, and thatdelicatessen stuff----"

  "Alice!" chided Ruth.

  "Well, it's the truth!" insisted the merry girl, her brown eyesdancing with mischief. "Russ knows we aren't millionaires, and withpapa out of an engagement so long--oh, chicken! Come on. I haven'ttasted any in so long----"

  "Alice--dear!" objected Ruth, sharply. "You mustn't mind her, Russ,"she went on, rather embarrassed.

  "I don't," he laughed. "But if you'll all come I'll promise you someof the best chicken you ever tasted. And mother's hot biscuits in thechicken gravy----"

  "Don't you say another word, Russ Dalwood!" interrupted Alice. "We'recoming!"

  "I--I think we will," agreed Mr. DeVere, with a laugh.

  Thus was his new engagement fittingly celebrated.

  The memory of that chicken dinner lingered long with the DeVerefamily. For though there was daylight ahead there were dark anddreary days to be lived through.

  As usual in theatrical companies, no salaries were paid while "AMatter of Friendship" was being rehearsed. Neither Mr. DeVere, norany of the company, received any money for those two weeks of hardwork. Those actors or actresses who had nothing put by lived as bestthey could on the charity of others. It was indeed "a matter offriendship" that some of them lived at all. And for a week after theplay opened they could expect nothing. Then if the play should be afailure----

  But no one liked to think of that.

  The rehearsals went on, and the play was going to be a great success,according to Mr. DeVere. But then he always said that. What actor hasnot?

  How he and his family lived those two weeks none but themselves knew.They had pawned all they dared, until their flat was quite bare ofneeded comforts. Tradesmen were insistent, and one man in particularthreatened to have Mr. DeVere arrested if his bill was not paid. Butit was out of the question to meet it. What little money was on handwas needed for food, and there was little enough of that.

  Mr. DeVere did negotiate some small loans, but not enough to affordpermanent relief. Perhaps motherly Mrs. Dalwood suspected, or Russmay have hinted at their neighbors' straits, for many a nourishingdish was sent to Ruth and Alice, on the plea that there was more ofit than Mrs. Dalwood and her sons could eat.

  There were more invitations from the Dalwoods to dinner or supper,but Mr. DeVere was proud, and declined, though in the mostdelightfully polite way.

  "I--I don't see how he can refuse, when he knows we are reallyhungry!" sighed Alice.

  "You wouldn't want him to be a beggar; would you?" flashed Ruth.

  "No. But it's awfully hard; isn't it?"

  "It is. Too bad they don't pay for rehearsals. And there'll beanother full week! Oh, Alice, I wish there was something we could doto earn money!"

  "So do I! But what is there?"

  "I don't know. Oh, dear!"

  They sat in the gloaming--silent, waiting for their father to comehome.

  "There's his step!" exclaimed Ruth, jumping up.

  "Yes--but," said Alice, in puzzled, frightened tones, "it--it doesn'tsound like him, somehow. How--how slowly he walks! Oh, I hope nothinghas happened!"

  "Happened? How could there?" asked Ruth, yet with blanched face.

  The door opened, and Mr. DeVere entered. It needed but a glance athis white face to show that something had happened--somethingtragic--and not the tragedy of the theater.

  "Oh, Father--Daddy--what is it!" cried Alice, springing to his arms.

  "I--I--my----" Mr. DeVere could hardly speak, so hoarse was he. Onlya husky whisper came from his lips.

  "Are you--are you hurt?" cried Ruth. "Shall I get a doctor?"

  "It--it's my voice!" gasped the actor. "It has gone back on me--Ican't speak a word to be heard over the footlights! It's my oldtrouble come back!" and he sank weakly into a chair.