Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 166: what you’re looking at

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

956 is a pippin, out on Burford Highway. f hope he knows what you want.” Mallory laughed comfortably. ‘“ You're the only one that does that, Chippy,” he said and the tense little assistant flushed with fervid joy at the commendation. It meant a great deal, for the director was not easy to please. He was an artist as well as an efficient craftsman. He strove for simplicity in everything, but demanded that it be dramatically effective. He in- sisted on human naturalness in every scene, but no actor was allowed to loaf on the job. He was proud of his production values and a beautiful location, which afforded vistas of pictorial worth and lighting that were artistic and telling meant much to him. At high noon the company in three big cars was speeding along the Burford road. At twelve thirty the leading chauffeur pulled up at a model, spic and span farmhouse, built in careful imitation of an English country place. Mallory took one long look at it, sat very still and bit his first finger in a way he had when he wanted to explode but wouldn’t. After a few seconds of ominous silence he turned. All he said was: “ Where shall we go, Chippy?” “We might try the cross cut toward the State road,” suggested the little assistant, thinking hard. It is no joke to bring a cast away out into the country, spend time on the road and then find the “location” unsuited to the scenes that must be taken. So, with orders to “step on it” the three cars shot off to the east and turned into a smooth country turnpike. At the State road they debated a moment, took a gambler’s chance and turned south. Mallory, seated in apparent abstraction, did not miss a single detail of the passing scenery and Chippy’s eyes fairly stood out of his head in his eagerness to see a possible location before his chief did. To the players it was all in the day’s work. On and on they flew. It was after one o’clock. Suddenly Mallory touched Chip- py’s shoulder. “I see an old-fashioned well-sweep way ahead. Tell Collins to slow down.” In another minute the cars had pulled up and, with the look Napoleon might have ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, worn when offered the job of emperor, Mallory was studying the aggregation of beauty spots that Myra’s little farm spread before him. “See if they'll let us use it, Chippy,” he said with a hopeful sigh and the little assistant, hat in hand, sped up the front walk and addressed Myra who, having heard the unaccustomed sound of auto- mobiles stopping at their gate, had come to the front door. Chippy explained; “ Only a few scenes and no rough stuff to hurt the flowers or the shrubbery.” “You mean you want to take movies here?” she asked. “Yes, just a—a few scenes—this after- noon and—a day or two—or just a little longer.” Chippy was afraid to tell her how much work they had for fear they wouldn’t want to be bothered. Myra had seen very few pictures and from the papers and magazines she had acquired a vague impression that movie people were a rather dubious lot. But these seemed very good to look at and Chippy spoke like a gentleman. They couldn’t harm her or the farm and perhaps the incident might serve to keep her mother’s mind off the loss of the place. “Why, yes. You are quite welcome,” she said at last and Chippy sped like Mercury to report the verdict to Craig Mallory. Not until then did that august personage give the signal to alight. “You understand that you don’t own this place, folks,” he said quietly. “ Just be as careful of it as ii—” he smiled, “as if you did.” In half an hour they were hard at work. The place was so unusually lovely that Mallory changed some of his plans. “ We'll take the whole parlor sequence out here, instead of inside,” he said to Vail. “ Sup- pose you think over the last episode too. We might do well to keep that out in the atmosphere of the apple blossoms instead of indoors.” “Then I'll cancel the order for the parlor set, sir?” asked Chippy. “ Right!” answered Mallory cheerily. “That’s a good idea,” said Vail, forced to admit that his story would profit and gain beauty by the suggested change. Comicbdooks (CO) im