Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 17, 1924 — page 134: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

284 Bonwell looked at the star, but he had turned away. ‘All right, chief?” Fred Thorne asked. Bonwell sighed. ‘“ Let it go.” He started to shake his head, then remembering that Myrtle was looking at him, and feeling sorry for her, wriggled his neck instead as if his collar annoyed him. ‘Then he told Fred to dismiss her for the day. But at the last moment he became soft hearted, and said to her: “You might drop around to-morrow morning, Miss Skinner. I may be able to use you.” “Thank you.” Bonwell was at the studio early the next morning to see the daily run of the day be- fore. These were always run off in the pro- jection room for the benefit of the directors so they could check up on their work. The scenes were pieced without rime or sequence just as they came from the de- veloping and printing departments. Bonwell was in a very bad humor. On arriving at the studio he had found word awaiting him that his next picture was to be a western with the exteriors to be taken in Arizona. Bonwell hated westerns, and he despised Arizona. He said to Fred Thorne: “Look here, Fred—after this, cut the dead fish out. She can’t act. That window scene was putrid. I was a fool to let her do it. The Lord only knows why I’m forever feeling sorry for that girl—I’m not for anybody else.” : “ All right, chief—nix is the word.” But fate had already attended to Myrtle’s case. At that very moment she was on the table at the Sisters’ Hospital in Los Angeles, being operated upon for appendicitis. Myrtle had been in pain all the day before, and at night a girl who roomed opposite, heard her groaning and went in to find her unconscious. A doctor, hurriedly called, dispatched the patient to the hospital. ‘Ready for the daily run, chief?” Thorne asked. “Go on—shoot.” Fred pressed a button. The film began to glide by. Suddenly Bonwell straightened up in his chair. “ Bush that button, Fred.” Fred ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Fred pushed the button, the film stopped. The projecting machine operator stuck his head through the aperture by the machine. ‘“What’s wrong Mr. Bonwell?” “‘ Rewind, will you, Lawrence, and run over.” “The whole thing, Mr. Bonwell?”’ “ The last fifty feet-—no, wait a moment. He took up a phone. “ Mr. Britton, please —this is Alec speaking. Ed, come over to the projection room, will yau? I’ve got something [ want you to see.” He put down the phone. ‘““ What’s the idea, chief?” ‘“ Didn’t you notice anything, Fred?” ‘“ Good light effect, that window thing.” “ Anything else?” “Well, it’s funny, but that girl, Myrtle Skinner—” he hesitated—‘ no good of course— but kind of got me in that shot—- first time we ever saw her in a close shot isn’t it, chief?” ce Yes.” “Of course,” Fred apologized, “ her act- ing was rotten.” ‘“ Oh, yes,” Bonwell conceded, “ the act- ing—rotten.” Britton, the studio manager, arrived at the projection room within ten minutes, a short, stocky man with a perpetual worried expression. It is no joke to be studio man- ager of a big organization devoted to mak- ing pictures with an efficiency expert in the offing. ‘‘ Well,” he asked, “ what is it, Alec?” “ Sit down, Ed.” VII. MyRTLE came out from under the anesthetic. She was suffering intensely, but ‘she made no sound. ‘* ‘You’re a model patient, Miss Skinner,” the surgeon said cheerfully. “ We'll have you right as a trivet in no time.” “Thank you.” Myrtle closed her eyes, and tried to bear the pain bravely. She summoned her dreams to aid her, but they would not come. This was the morning she was to have reported at the Acme, a personal re- quest from a director. She knew what happened to extras who failed to report or COMICLOOokKks (C©@