merton of the movies-第40章
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was blowing smoke from the barrels as he came on。
So that was it。 The panic of the old horse had been but a simple reaction to a couple of charges ofperhaps rocksalt。 Merton Gill hoped it had been nothing sterner。 For the first time in his screen career he became cynical about his art。 A thing of shame； of machinery； of subterfuge。 Nothing would be real； perhaps not even the art。
It is probable that lack of food conduced to this disparaging outlook； and he recovered presently； for he had been smitten with a quick vision of Beulah Baxter in one of her most daring exploits。 She； at least； was real。 Deaf to entreaty； she honestly braved her hazards。 It was a comforting thought after this late exposure of a sham。
In this slightly combative mood he retraced his steps and found himself outside the High Gear Dance Hall； fortified for another possible encounter with the inquiring and obviously sympathetic Montague girl。 He entered and saw that she was not on the set。 The bar…room dance…hall was for the moment deserted of its ribald crew while an honest inhabitant of the open spaces on a balcony was holding a large revolver to the shrinking back of one of the New York men who had lately arrived by the stage。 He forced this man； who was plainly not honest； to descend the stairs and to sign； at a table； a certain paper。 Then； with weapon still in hand； the honest Westerner forced the cowardly New Yorker in the direction of the front door until they had passed out of the picture。
On this the bored director of the day before called loudly； 〃Now； boys； in your places。 You've heard a shotyou're running outside to see what's the matter。 On your toes； nowtry it once。〃 From rear doors came the motley frequenters of the place； led by the elder Montague。
They trooped to the front in two lines and passed from the picture。 Here they milled about； waiting for further orders。
〃Rotten！〃 called the director。 〃Rotten and then some。 Listen。 You came like a lot of children marching out of a public school。 Don't come in lines； break it up； push each other； fight to get ahead； and you're noisy； too。 You're shouting。 You're saying； 'What's this？ What's it all about？ What's the matter？ Which way did he go？' Say anything you want to； but keep shoutinganything at all。 Say 'Thar's gold in them hills！' if you can't think of anything else。 Go on； now； boys； do it again and pep it； see。 Turn the juice on； open up the old mufflers。〃
The men went back through the rear doors。 The late caller would here have left； being fed up with this sort of stuff； but at that moment he descried the Montague girl back behind a light…standard。 She had not noted him； but was in close talk with a man he recognized as Jeff Baird； arch perpetrator of the infamous Buckeye comedies。 They came toward him； still talking； as he looked。
〃We'll finish here to…morrow afternoon； anyway；〃 the girl was saying。
〃Fine；〃 said Baird。 〃That makes everything jake。 Get over on the set whenever you're through。 Come over tonight if they don't shoot here； just to give us a look…in。〃
〃Can't；〃 said the girl。 〃Soon as I get out o' this dump I got to eat on the lot and everything and be over to Baxter's layoutshe'll be doing tank stuff till all hoursshipwreck and murder and all like that。 Gosh； I hope it ain't cold。 I don't mind the water； but I certainly hate to get out and wait in wet clothes while Sig Rosenblatt is thinking about a retake。〃
〃Well〃Baird turned to go〃take care of yourselfdon't dive and forget to come up。 Come over when you're ready。〃
〃Sure！ S'long！〃 Here the girl； turning from Baird； noted Merton Gill beside her。 〃Well； well； as I live； the actin' kid once more！ Say； you're getting to be a regular studio hound； ain't you？〃
For the moment he had forgotten his troubles。 He was burning to ask her if Beulah Baxter would really work in a shipwreck scene that night at the place where he had watched the carpenters and the men on the sailboat； but as he tried to word this he saw that the girl was again scanning him with keen eyes。 He knew she would read the collar； the beard； perhaps even a look of mere hunger that he thought must now be showing。
〃Say； see here； Trouper； what's the shootin' all about； anyway？ You up against ityes。〃 There was again in her eye the look of warm concern； and she was no longer trying to be funny。 He might now have admitted a few little things about his screen career； but again the director interrupted。
〃Miss Montaguewhere are you？ Oh！ Well； remember you're behind the piano during that gun play just now； and you stay hid till after the boys get out。 We'll shoot this time； so get set。〃
She sped off； with a last backward glance of questioning。 He waited but a moment before leaving。 He was almost forgetting his hunger in the pretty certain knowledge that in a few hours he would actually behold his wonder…woman in at least one of her daring exploits。 Shipwreck！ Perhaps she would be all but drowned。 He hastened back to the pool that had now acquired this high significance。 The carpenters were still puttering about on the scaffold。 He saw that platforms for the cameras had been built out from its side。
He noted； too； and was puzzled by an aeroplane propeller that had been stationed close to one corner of the pool； just beyond the stern of the little sailing…craft。 Perhaps there would be an aeroplane wreck in addition to a shipwreck。 Now he had something besides food to think of。 And he wondered what the Montague girl could be doing in the company of a really serious artist like Beulah Baxter。 From her own story she was going to get wet； but from what he knew of her she would be some character not greatly missed from the cast if she should； as Baird had suggested； dive and forget to come up。 He supposed that Baird had meant this to be humorous； the humour typical of a man who could profane a great art with the atrocious Buckeye comedies； so called。
He put in the hours until nightfall in aimless wandering and idle gazing； and was early at the pool…side where his heroine would do her sensational acting。 It was now a scene of thrilling activity。 Immense lights； both from the scaffolding and from a tower back of the sailing…craft； flooded its deck and rigging from time to time as adjustments were made。 The rigging was slack and the deck was still littered； intentionally so； he now perceived。 The gallant little boat had been cruelly buffeted by a gale。 Two sailors in piratical dress could be seen to emerge at intervals from the cabin。
Suddenly the gale was on with terrific force； the sea rose in great waves； and the tiny ship rocked in a perilous manner。 Great billows of water swept its decks。 Merton Gill stared in amazement at these phenomena so dissonant with the quiet starlit night。 Then he traced them without difficulty to their various sources。 The gale issued from the swift revolutions of that aeroplane propeller he had noticed a while ago。 The flooding billows were spilled from the big tank at the top of the scaffold and the boat rocked in obedience to the tugging of a ropetugged from the shore by a crew of helpers that ran to the top of its mast。 Thus had the storm been produced。
A spidery； youngish man from one of the platforms built out from the scaffold； now became sharply vocal through a megaphone to assistants who were bending the elements to the need of this particular hazard of Hortense。 He called directions to the men who tugged the rope； to the men in control of the lights； and to another who seemed to create the billows。 Among other items he wished more action for the boat and more water for the billows。 〃See that your tank gets full… up this time；〃 he called； whereupon an engine under the scaffold； by means of a large rubber hose reaching into the pool； began to suck water into the tank above。
The speaker must be Miss Baxter's director； the enviable personage who saw her safely through her perils。 When one of the turning reflectors illumined him Merton saw his face of a keen Semitic type。 He seemed to possess not the most engaging personality； his manner was aggressive； he spoke rudely to his doubtless conscientious employees； he danced in little rages of temper； and altogether he was not one with whom the watcher
