The Argosy, Vol. 82, No. 3 — page 158: what you’re looking at

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

5382 on the cover about motion pictures. The game was now in his hands and he meant to play it for all it was worth. “First permit me to introduce Mr. Gray- son, my leading man,” he said. Bob had left the machine and was center- ing his attention upon the radiator when Burton spoke. Turning, he looked directly into Marion Mawbrey’s eyes. She returned the gaze, her color deepen- ing. If she recognized him she showed no signs. ‘Another pleasure, Mr. Grayson,” was all she said. Bob bowed and moved towards the steps. Hadley had found a comfortable seat on the running-board on the other side of the machine and leisurely proceeded to light one of Grayson’s good cigars, feeling that the adventure so far was not to be taken seriously. “We were just passing, Miss—er-—”’ Burton purposely waited, professing ignor- ance of her name. “How stupid of me!” she laughed. “Why, here you gentlemen introduce your- selves and I forgot to return the compli- ment. My name is Marion Mawbrey.” Again Grayson and Burton bowed. “We were passing,” resumed Burton, ‘and I was attracted by the beauty of the scenery about the house.”’ “Tt is beautiful, isn’t it?’ she agreed. “So attractive,’ went on Burton, “ that I could not resist stopping. The fact is, I have a scene I want to take to-day and the grounds in front here would be the ideal spot for it.” Burton paused. thusiasm on the girl’s face. hot and he meant to strike. “The very spot,” he continued, “‘but the scene will be played by Mr. Grayson and one of the girls from the studio. I’m afraid by the time I could get her out here the best part of the afternoon would be gone.” Grayson looked at Burton. Truly Tommy was a natural born fabricator, for never did language flow in a more uncon- cerned manner. “However,” Burton proceeded, “my ob- ject in calling was to get permission to film a scene on the grounds.” He looked toward Marion and waited. ‘“T am sure you have that,” she said. “I am also sorry you can’t do it to-day. You know I have never seen a picture taken.” He saw the look of en- The iron was THE ARGOSY. Burton now decided to take the bull by the horns. Her admission that she knew nothing about the filming of pictures urged him on. “Tf was wondering, Miss Mawbrey,” he said, speaking slowly and knitting his brows as though he had not already figured out just what he was going to say. ‘‘The scene will be short. The girl, of course, has not the leading part and does not ap- pear throughout the scenario. She is in fact screened once.” Marion’s eyes glistened. Burton saw the expression and knew that her woman’s intuition was at work. “Well,” she asked, ‘“‘what were you won- dering?” “Just this. scene?” “But, Mr. Payne,” she stammered, “I have never—”’ Burton interrupted her. “I know you are going to tell me you have never acted. But the part requires no experience. Of course it counts, but does not bulk large in the plot. Why, Miss Mawbrey, I have seen girls like yourself start in and—well some have shown talent right at the beginning.” Grayson could not repress a smile. Of all the cheerful liars Tommy Burton was in a class by himself. “Tf you think I would do,” she said hesi- tatingly, ““why—” Burton applied his finishing touches. Would you care to play the “Of that I have no doubt. Come, let’s get down to business.” Receiving her permission, they both smoked. Burton a cigarette, Grayson his pipe. 3 The pipe seemed to arouse Grayson’s conversational powers. For the past five or ten minutes he had barely said a word, fearing he might spoil matters. “Of course you can do it, Miss Maw- brey,” he said. “The part is small, isn’t it, Tommy?” In a flash he saw a warning expression come over Burton’s face. He, Grayson, had made his first break, and fumbled a name. Luckily she did not notice. ‘Very small,” assented Burton, “and then, of course, Miss Mawbrey, Mr. Gray- son’s experience will help you. Won’t it, Bob?” Grayson stirred uneasily in his chair. Marion shot him an admiring look. ‘What? Oh, yes, to be sure,” he agreed. EOPNICLOOOKS (C@)