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Moving Picture Girls, The

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<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> <h3>THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS</h3> For a moment Ruth and Alice looked at each other with eyes that showed the pain they felt. Ruth turned pale at hearing the unkind words, but Alice blushed a rosy red, and started to say something. "Don't," advised Mrs. Maguire, coming up beside them, and evidently guessing her intention. "It would only make matters worse to reply to them, my dear." "But—but——" began Alice. "Hush!" begged Ruth. "Oh, how could they say it—as if we wanted to displace those girls." "I'm just going to tell them what I think!" exclaimed Alice, and there was a hint of real anger in her voice. But she had no chance, for Miss Pennington and Miss Dixon, as though satisfied with what they had done, swept out to the elevator. "Don't mind them, my dears," said motherly Mrs. Maguire. "It's only professional jealousy, anyhow; and you'll see plenty of that if you stay in this business long enough." "Then I'm not going to stay!" cried Alice. "I'm not used to having such things said of me." Mrs. Maguire laughed genially. She was standing with Ruth and Alice, who were waiting for their father to join them. Most of the other performers had now gone. "Oh, you'll get so you won't mind that a bit!" went on Mrs. Maguire. "Sure, I used to eat my heart over it in my younger days, but now I only laugh. It's part of the business. It's a tribute to your acting, my dear, and you ought to take it as such. Don't mind it." "Oh, but it was so—so uncalled—for!" murmured Ruth. "I think I must—" "Hush! Here comes daddy!" interrupted Alice. "Don't let him know about it." "That's wise," commented Mrs. Maguire. "Though probably he's seen enough of it in his time. But perhaps he wouldn't like to know that it bothered you. Best say nothing to him, my dears. It will wear away soon enough." "No, we won't say anything," agreed Alice, slipping her arm through her sister's. "Papa has enough trouble as it is." A little later, as the girls were walking along with Mr. DeVere, he asked them: "Well, how did you like your parts in the movies?" "Fine. It was so interesting, Dad!" exclaimed Ruth. "I'd like to do some more!" echoed Alice, with a meaning look at her sister. "Well, I must see what sort of parts Mr. Pertell will cast you for," said Mr. DeVere. "But I am glad you like the work. It may be a great deal better for all of us to be in this than if I was alone in a regular theater. We can always be together now, and certainly my voice doesn't seem to be improving very fast." This was only too true. Several visits to the physician, and a heroic course of treatment, had resulted in only a slight improvement. The pain in the vocal chords had been lessened, but the huskiness remained, so that it would have been practically impossible for Mr. DeVere to speak his lines in a regular theater. So the moving pictures were suited to him. The DeVere family was now in much better circumstances than when we first made their acquaintance. They had been gradually paying the back bills, the landlord had been appeased, so that there was no danger of dispossession, and there was much happiness in the little flat. "We could even afford a better one, if you girls would like to move," said Mr. DeVere one day. "Oh, no, let's stay," suggested Ruth. "We can save a little money by remaining here, and paying less rent." "Besides, we have such nice neighbors!" observed Alice, with a glance at the Dalwood apartments across the hall, at the same time giving Ruth a sly nudge. "Stop it!" commanded Ruth. "What do you mean, Alice?" "Just what I said—we have such nice neighbors across the way," and she gave a little pinch to her sister's blushing cheek. "Yes, the Dalwoods are very good friends," remarked Mr. DeVere, all unconscious of this little by-play between his daughters. "And Russ is certainly a fine young man." "Indeed he is; isn't he, Ruth?" asked Alice tantalizingly. "Oh, yes, I suppose so," was the blushing answer. "But how should I know—any more than you do about Paul Ardite?" and she glanced shrewdly at Alice. "A hit, I suppose you would call that. A Roland for my Oliver, my dear!" laughed Alice, frankly. "I don't mind." She looked toward her father, but he was so absorbed in looking over a new part he was to take, that he paid little attention to the chatter of the girls. A few days after the first appearance of Ruth and Alice before the moving picture camera, in the small rôles they had taken to bridge over an emergency, Mr. Pertell brought them their parts in a new drama. Meanwhile it had been ascertained that the films where the girls filled in had been a success. Ruth and Alice felt a little diffident about going to the studio again, especially after the scene with the jealous actresses. But Miss Dixon and Miss Pennington appeared to have gotten over their pique, and they acted as though they had never said anything to wound or annoy Ruth and Alice. The latter, however, could not forget it, and were rather cool toward their fellow-players. "Here are your new parts," said Mr. Pertell. "Look them over with your father as soon as you can. He is to be in the play with you." "Oh, isn't this exciting!" cried Alice, as she took the typewritten manuscript. "Real parts at last, Ruth!" "Yes. We will be real actresses if we keep on. I wonder what I am cast for?" "My! We're becoming quite adept in theatrical talk. Ahem!" laughed Alice with pretended sarcasm. Miss Pennington and Miss Dixon, who were already rehearsing for another play, looked over at the two enthusiastic sisters, and shrugged their shoulders. "Wait until they have been in it as long as we have, my dear, then they won't be so jolly," remarked Miss Pennington. "Oh, I don't know as you can include me," was Miss Dixon's rather tart comment. "I haven't been at it so many years." "Oh, haven't you?" asked Miss Pennington, with a raising of her penciled eyebrows. "Excuse me, my dear!" "Don't mention it!" "Get on to that, would you!" exclaimed Pop Snooks to Mr. Sneed. "The two old-timers are scrappin'." "I knew they would," was the grouchy rejoinder. "They'll have a real quarrel, and both quit, and that'll mean some new members in the company. And just as we are about through rehearsing that piece, and about to film it, too. That means I'll have to do it all over again. I knew something would happen!" "Oh, cheer up! The worst is yet to come!" laughed Paul Ardite. "Here's Switzer looking as red as a lobster. What is it now, Carl?" he asked. "Ach! Vot isn't der matter?" cried the moon-faced one. "I haf a part vot incessitates me to be bound und gagged by a band of robbers, und stood in a corner vhile dey loot der blace." "Well, that's a nice, romantic part," observed Paul. "Yah, but how would you like to haf a rag stuffed in your mout so vot you couldn't breath yet for five minutes? How vould you like dot; hey? Dell me dot!" "Oh, well, tell 'em to leave you a breathing hole," laughed Paul. "Where is Mr. Pertell? Where is he? I demand to see him at once!" broke in the voice of Wellington Bunn. "I must see him instantly!" "He was here a moment ago, giving the Misses DeVere their parts," replied Paul. "Why, is the place on fire?" "No, but I refuse to take the part he has assigned to me. I utterly and positively refuse to so demean myself." "What part have you?" asked the young fellow, looking over at Alice and nodding. "Why, he has cast me—I, who have played all the principal Shakespearean characters—he has cast me—Wellington Bunn—as a waiter in a hotel scene! Where is Mr. Pertell? I refuse to take that character!" "Oh, what's the trouble now?" asked the manager, coming from his office. The Shakespearean actor explained. "Now see here!" exclaimed Mr. Pertell, with more anger than he usually displayed. "You'll take that part, Mr. Bunn, or leave the company! It is an important part, and has to do with the development of the plot. Why, as that waiter you intercept the taking of ten thousand dollars, and prevent the heroine from being abducted. Afterward you become rich, and blossom out as a theatrical manager." "And do I produce Shakespeare?" asked the old actor, eagerly. "There's nothing to stop you—in the play," returned Mr. Pertell, rather drily. "Oh, then it's all right," said Mr. Bunn, with a sigh of relief. "I'll take the part." Rehearsals were going on in various parts of the studio, and some plays were being filmed. Russ Dalwood was busy at one of the cameras. "Have you got a part you like, Ruth?" asked Alice, when she had finished looking over her lines. "Indeed I have, I'm supposed to be Lady Montgomery, and there are two counts in love with me. At least, one is a count and the other pretends to be one. It's quite romantic. What is yours?" "Mine's jolly. I'm a school girl, always up to some trick or other, and—yes, see here—why in one of my tricks I disclose that the pretended count who's in love with you is only an organ grinder! Oh, that will be fun," and she laughed gleefully. "Do you like your parts?" asked the manager, coming up. "Indeed we do!" chorused Ruth and Alice. "Then talk to your father about them," he advised. "See what he says, and if he is willing you may begin rehearsals with him, and the others of the cast." Mr. DeVere was fully satisfied with the parts assigned to his daughters, and agreed to allow them to enter formally into the work of the moving pictures at a very fair salary for beginners. The others of the company were called together, including Paul Ardite, and the best method of getting the finest results out of the drama was discussed. In the days that followed, Ruth and Alice, as well as the others, did hard work. It is not as easy to go through a moving picture play as it appears merely from seeing the film on the white curtain. Some scenes have to be rehearsed over and over again, and often, after being filmed, some defect results and the work has to be all done once more. Mr. DeVere rehearsed his daughters at home in the intervals of their appearance at the studio, and this redounded to their benefit. They were thus able to do effective work, and Mr. Pertell complimented them on it. The play was soon ready for filming, and Russ was chosen to work the camera. Some of the scenes were out of doors, in a big flower garden, and for this the company was taken to Brooklyn, where a private owner was induced to allow his place to be used for a few minutes. Ruth and Alice enjoyed their part in the flower garden very much. Finally the last rehearsal was had, and the day was set for making the films of the first real, big play in which the two girls had ever taken part. As they were leaving the studio together, on the afternoon of the day before the first "performance," they saw a group of children standing down near the main entrance. "There go some of the moving picture girls now," one boy exclaimed. "Don't I wish I was them!" sighed a tall, lanky girl next him. "Ain't they nice, Jimmie?" "They sure is!" was the enthusiastic rejoinder. "We're achieving fame, Ruth," laughed Alice. "Such as it is—yes," replied her sister. "'Moving picture girls'; eh? Well, I suppose we are." <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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