Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 27, 1925 — page 77: what you’re looking at

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

FLIGHT TO puck to some other angel of mercy. As for her, she was through. So was I—al- most.” The story came in the matter-of-fact tone of blunted emotions, spaced with Jittle si- lences. | “Well, maybe you know that game and maybe you don’t—the game of bunting-food and fame on Broadway. Here I was with the looks and the ambition and, even if I do say it myself, with the pep and talent to make good either in musical comedy or on the screen—and yet I was just about at the point where I had to sit down and decide which it was for me—street-walking or the river.” There was 2 hard note of desperation in the voice now—a note that seemed grated from rough and unyielding surfaces of life. “Qh, of course, I know. A decent girl doesn’t consider street-walking. That's out —not to be considered. I had that idea, too—but I find that most everything de- pends on how hard you're pressed—on how hungry you get. Well, I never came to it, anyhow.” | “Go on,” prompted Anne Purviance quietly. “Then on this day I got word at one of the agencies to go across to Fort Lee for this extra part in a movie. I thought my luck had turned—and Mike knows it was time for it to turn. I thought it meant a week or two at least of solid work—may- be an opening. Everything looked jake. I beat it over there like a hot-footed young gazelle—and I got out of it just exactly one day’s work and a pay slip for five bucks.” “But you were going to tell me about Mr. Harrison.” | “Yes, I’m coming to him now. He's a principal in this ten-twent’-thirt’ of Little Cynthy’s Great Temptation. He deserves to have his entrance worked up. He doesn’t just walk on.” Once more Cynthia, whose eyes were gleaming resentfully as she sat propped with pillows, broke off. But the saint of Doe Rum smiled and nodded, and the story went on. “ Well, this day at Fort Lee, they’d been shooting some scenes in the picture, and we were called back for some retakes in the afternoon. Meanwhile, we were all eating hot dogs and drinking coffee in our make- up, in that little quick-lunch place where you sée the Emperor of Rome and Sitting Bull and Queen Elizabeth and a gang of vamps and heavies m dress suits elbowmg each other at the counter.” Once more the girl’ paused, and her Iis- terier, who happened to have sampled that fare as well as many others in her travels, saw in memoty the tatterdemalion -picture presented. * Well, he was in there, too—Jock Harri- son. He was a distinguished visitor, stroll- ing over the lot, taking in the sights and enjoying the freaks. He was the guest of Jake Wolf himself—and it was Wolf’s pic- ture I was working in. Well, he saw me and he seemed to find me easy to look at. Anyhow, I didn’t appear to hurt his eyes unduly. Wolf called over the director that had been using us, and ordered him to bring up the jane in the gypsy rags. That was me, see? Well, I was brought up and I can’t say I hung back.on the bit.” She lay gazing for a little while straight ahead. “This Mr. Harrison treated me as if I’d been the lead in the piece instead of an extra, and I played right up to him. I wasn't exactly upstage, but still I tried to get it acrgss to him that I wasn’t just riff- raff in a mob scene—and he seemed to fall for me. Then he and Wolf strolled off and I went back to the set for the retake.” ‘“ Was that all of that?” “T thought so at the time. But as I was walking down to the ferry that after- noon a car pulled up in the road. It wasn’t so much a car as a dreadnaught on wheels with a chauffeur in a swanky livery—and Mr. Harrison leaning on a walking stick in the tonneau.” Cynthia laughed a shade grimly. “Well, that was the beginning of it,” she said. ‘He recognized me in my street clothes and I got quite a kick out of that. It showed that it wasn't just the raggle- taggle gypsy make-up that had rendered me pleasing in his lordship’s eyes.” “ And I suppose he invited you to step into his car instead of walking to the ferry?” CON () IDOOKS Co