The Moving Picture Girls; Or, First Appearances in Photo Dramas

by Laura Lee Hope

  CHAPTER VII

  ALICE CHANGES HER MIND

  Filled with enthusiasm over his new project for aiding Mr. DeVere,Russ Dalwood caught Alice by the hand, and guided her steps with his.She had been about to turn off at a corner, to carry out herintention of seeking employment in one of the many manicure parlorson a certain street. Now she hesitated.

  "Well," asked Russ, impatiently, "don't you like the idea?"

  "Oh, it's fine--it's splendid of you!" Alice replied, with fervor,"but you know----"

  She hesitated, her cheeks taking on a more ruddy hue. There was anuncertain look in her brown eyes.

  "Well, what?" asked Russ, smilingly. "Surely you don't mind goingwith me to the manager's office? It's a public place. Lots of girlsgo there, looking for engagements."

  "Oh, no, it isn't that!" she hastened to assure him.

  "Or, if you don't like going with me, I can give you a note to Mr.Pertell, the manager. I know him quite well, as I've been negotiatingwith him about my patent."

  "Oh, Russ, you know it isn't that!" she exclaimed.

  "And, if you like, we'll go back and get Ruth. Maybe that would bebetter!" he exclaimed eagerly, and as Alice looked into his honestgray eyes she read his little secret, and smiled at himunderstandingly.

  "Oh, never that!" she cried gaily. "Ruth would be the last one in theworld to be let into this secret, until it is more assured ofsuccess. Besides, I guess when you walk with Ruth you don't want me,"she challenged.

  "Oh, now----" he began.

  "That's all right. I understand," she laughed at him. "No, we won'ttell Ruth."

  "Then you'll go and see the manager--I know he'll give your father atrial, and that's all that's needed, for I'm sure he can do theacting. And they're always looking for new characters. Come on!"

  Once more, in his enthusiasm, he tried to lead her down the street.But she hung back.

  "No, really, Russ," she said earnestly enough now, and her eyes tookon a more grave and serious look. "It isn't that. It's only--well, Imight as well tell you, though it may be rather mean after yourkindness. But my father thinks the movies are so--so vulgar!There--I've said it."

  She looked at her companion anxiously. To her surprise Russ laughed.

  "So, you were afraid of hurting my feelings; were you?" he asked.

  "Yes," she answered, in a low voice.

  "Nothing like that!" he assured her. "I've heard worse things thanthat said about the movies. But I want to tell you that you're wrong,and, with all due respect to him, your father is wrong too. There'snothing vulgar or low about the movies--except the price."

  He was becoming really enthusiastic now. His voice rang, and his eyessparkled.

  "I'm not saying that because I make my living at them, either," Russwent on. "It's because it's true. The moving picture shows were once,perhaps, places where nice persons didn't go. But it's different now.All that has been changed. Why, look at Sarah Bernhardt, doing herfamous plays before the camera? Even Andrew Carnegie consented togive one of his speeches in front of the camera, with a phonographattachment, the other day."

  "Did he, really?" cried Alice.

  "He certainly did. And a lot of the best actors and actresses in thisand other countries aren't ashamed to be seen in the movies. They'reglad to do it, and glad to get the money, too, I guess," he added,with a grin.

  "I think it would be the very thing for your father. Of course, ifhis voice had held out he might like it better to be an actor on thereal stage. But in the movies he won't have to talk. He'll just haveto act. Then, when his voice gets better, as I hope it will, he cantake up the legitimate again."

  "Oh, I know his heart is set on that!" exclaimed Alice.

  "But don't you think he'd consider this?" asked Russ. He was veryanxious to help--Alice could tell that.

  "I--I'm afraid he wouldn't," confessed the girl. "He thinks themovies too common. I know, for I've heard him say so many times."

  "They're not common!" defended Russ, sturdily. "The moving picturesare getting better and better all the while. Of course some poorfilms are shown, but they're gradually being done away with. Theboard of censorship is becoming more strict.

  "Common! Why do you know that it costs as much as $20,000,sometimes, to stage one of the big plays--one with lots of outdoorscenes in it, burning buildings, railroad accidents made to order,and all that."

  "Really?" cried Alice, her eyes now shining with excitement.

  "That's right!" exclaimed Russ. "I'm just at the beginning of thebusiness. I've learned the projecting end of it so far. Almost anyonecan put the film in the machine, switch on the light, get the rightfocus and turn the handle. But it's harder to film a real drama withlots of excitement in it--outdoor stuff--cattle stampeded--the sportsof cowboys--a fake Indian fight; it takes lots of grit to stand up infront of an oncoming troop of horsemen, and snap them until they getso close you can see the whites of their eyes. Then if they turn atthe right time--well and good. But if there's a slip, and they rideinto you--good-night! Excuse my slang," he added, hastily.

  "Did that ever happen?" she asked, eagerly.

  "Well, if not that, something near enough like it. I've heard theoperators--those who take the negatives--tell of 'em many a time.That's what I'm going to be soon--a taker of the moving picture playsinstead of just projecting them on the screen. Mr. Pertell haspromised to give me a chance. He's organizing some new companies.

  "Just as soon as I get my patent perfected he's promised to put it onhis machines. Then I'm going with his company."

  "Did you hear any more about that man you say tried to steal yourinvention?" asked Alice.

  "Who, Simp Wolley? Oh, yes, he's been sneaking around after me, and Itold him what I thought of him. He's got another fellow in withhim--Bud Brisket--and he's about the same type. But I'm not going toworry about it."

  "Don't be too confident," warned Alice. "I've heard of many inventorswhose patents were gotten away from them."

  "Thanks, I'll be careful. But just now I'm interested in getting yourfather to take up this work. I know he'll like it, once he tries it.Won't you come and see the manager? I'm sure he'll give your father atrial."

  Alice stood in deep thought for a moment. Then with a little gesture,as though putting the past behind her, she exclaimed:

  "Yes, Russ, I will, and I thank you! I told Ruth I was going to dosomething, and I am. If father can get an engagement I won't have togo to work. Not that I'm ashamed to work--I love it!" she addedhastily. "But I wouldn't like to be a public manicurist, and that'sthe only situation that seemed open to me. I will go see yourmanager, Russ, and I'll do my best to get father to take up thiswork. It's quite different from what I thought it was."

  "I knew you'd say that," chuckled Russ. "Come on."

  "What would Ruth say if she saw me now?" Alice asked, as she and Russwalked off together. "She would certainly think I was defying allconventionality."

  "Don't worry." Russ advised her. "It's the sensible thing to do. AndI'll explain to Ruth, too."

  "Oh, I believe you could explain to anyone!" Alice declared withenthusiasm. "You've made it so clear and different to me. But how dothey make moving pictures?"

  "You'll soon see," he answered. "We're going to one of the filmstudios now. This is about the time they begin to make the scenes.It's very interesting."

  Soon they found themselves before a rather bare brick building. Ithad nothing of the look of a theater about it. There were no gaudylithographs out in front, no big frames with the pictures of theactors and actresses, or of scenes from the plays. There was no boxoffice--no tiled foyer. It might have been a factory. Alice's facemust have shown the surprise she felt, for Russ said:

  "This is where the films are made. It's all business here. They makethe inside scenes here--anything from the interior of a miner's shackto a ballroom in a king's palace. Of course, for outside scenes theygo wherever the scenery best suits the story of the play. And herethe film negatives are developed, and duplicate positives
made forthe projecting machines. This is Mr. Pertell's principal factory."

  "Fancy a play-factory!" exclaimed Alice.

  "That's exactly what it is--a play-factory," agreed Russ. "Come onin."

  If Alice was surprised at the exterior appearance of the building theinterior was more bewildering. They passed rapidly through thedepartments devoted to the mechanical end of the business--where thefilms were developed and printed. Russ promised to show her more ofthat later.

  "We'll go right up to the theatre studio," he said.

  Alice looked about the big room, that seemed filled with all sorts ofscenery, parts of buildings, rustic bridges--in short, all sorts of"props." She had been behind the scenes often in some of the plays inwhich her father took part, so this was not startlingly new to her.Yet it was different from the usual theatre.

  And such strange "business" seemed going on. There were men and womengoing through plays--Alice could tell that, but the odd part of itwas that in one section of the room what seemed a tragedy in amountain log cabin was being enacted; while, not ten feet away, was aparlor scene, showing men in evening dress, and women in ballcostumes, gliding through the mazes of a waltz. Next to this was ascene representing a counterfeiter's den in some low cellar, with thepolice breaking through the door with drawn revolvers, to capture thecriminals.

  And in front of these varied scenes stood a battery of queercameras--moving picture cameras, looking like flat fig boxes with atube sticking out, and a handle on one side, at which earnest-facedyoung men were vigorously clicking.

  And, off to one side, stood several men in their shirt sleevessuperintending the performances. They gave many directions.

  "No, not that way! When you faint, fall good and hard, MissPennington!"

  "Hurry now, Mr. Switzer; get in some of that funny business! Lookfunny; don't act as though this was your funeral!"

  "Come on there Mr. Bunn; this isn't 'Hamlet.' You needn't stalk aboutthat way. There's no grave in this!"

  "Hold on, there! Cut that part out. Stop the camera; that will haveto be done over. There's no life in it!"

  And so it went on, in the glaring light that filtered in through theroof, composed wholly of skylights, while a battery of arc lamps, inaddition, on some of the scenes, poured out their hissing glare tomake the taking of the negatives more certain.

  Alice was enthralled by it all. She stood close to Russ's side,clasping his arm. Many of the men engaged in taking the pictures knewthe young operator, and nodded to him in friendly fashion, as theyhurried about. Some of the actors and actresses, too, bowed to theyoung fellow and smiled. He seemed a general favorite.

  "Isn't it wonderful?" whispered Alice. "I had no idea the making of amoving picture was anything like this!"

  "I thought you'd change your mind," replied Russ, with a laugh. "Butyou haven't seen half of it yet. Here comes Mr. Pertell now. I'llspeak to him about your father."