"Well, if not that, something near enough like it. I've heard the operators--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 plays instead of just projecting them on the screen. Mr. Pertell has promised 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 on his machines. Then I'm going with his company."

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

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

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

"Thanks, I'll be careful. But just now I'm interested in getting your father 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 a trial."

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 do something, and I am. If father can get an engagement I won't have to go to work. Not that I'm ashamed to work--I love it!" she added hastily. "But I wouldn't like to be a public manicurist, and that's the only situation that seemed open to me. I will go see your manager, Russ, and I'll do my best to get father to take up this work. 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 Russ walked off together. "She would certainly think I was defying all conventionality."

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

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

"You'll soon see," he answered. "We're going to one of the film studios 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. It had nothing of the look of a theater about it. There were no gaudy lithographs out in front, no big frames with the pictures of the actors and actresses, or of scenes from the plays. There was no box office--no tiled foyer. It might have been a factory. Alice's face must have shown the surprise she felt, for Russ said:

"This is where the films are made. It's all business here. They make the inside scenes here--anything from the interior of a miner's shack to a ballroom in a king's palace. Of course, for outside scenes they go wherever the scenery best suits the story of the play. And here the film negatives are developed, and duplicate positives made for the projecting machines. This is Mr. Pertell's princ.i.p.al factory."

"Fancy a play-factory!" exclaimed Alice.

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

If Alice was surprised at the exterior appearance of the building the interior was more bewildering. They pa.s.sed rapidly through the departments devoted to the mechanical end of the business--where the films were developed and printed. Russ promised to show her more of that later.

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

Alice looked about the big room, that seemed filled with all sorts of scenery, parts of buildings, rustic bridges--in short, all sorts of "props." She had been behind the scenes often in some of the plays in which 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 women going through plays--Alice could tell that, but the odd part of it was that in one section of the room what seemed a tragedy in a mountain log cabin was being enacted; while, not ten feet away, was a parlor scene, showing men in evening dress, and women in ball costumes, gliding through the mazes of a waltz. Next to this was a scene representing a counterfeiter's den in some low cellar, with the police breaking through the door with drawn revolvers, to capture the criminals.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so it went on, in the glaring light that filtered in through the roof, composed wholly of skylights, while a battery of arc lamps, in addition, on some of the scenes, poured out their hissing glare to make 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 knew the young operator, and nodded to him in friendly fashion, as they hurried about. Some of the actors and actresses, too, bowed to the young fellow and smiled. He seemed a general favorite.

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

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

CHAPTER VIII

"PAY YOUR RENT, OR----"

Alice liked the appearance of Mr. Pertell, manager of the Comet Film Company, from her first glimpse of him. He seemed so st.u.r.dy, kind and wholesome. He was in his shirt sleeves, and his clothing was in almost as much disorder as his ruffled hair. But there was a kindly gleam in his snapping eyes, and a firm look about his mouth that showed his character.

"Oh, Mr. Pertell, can you spare a moment?" Russ called to him.

"Oh, h.e.l.lo, Russ; is that you?" was the cordial greeting. "How is the patent? I could use it if I had it now. Spare a minute? Yes, several of 'em. They've spoiled that one act and it's got to be done over. I don't see why they can't do as they're told instead of injecting a lot of new business into the thing! I've got to sit still and do nothing now for ten minutes while they fix that scene up over again.

Go ahead, Russ--what can I do for you?"

He sat down on an overturned box, and motioned for Russ and Alice to occupy adjoining ones. Clearly there was not much ceremony about this manager. He was like others Alice had observed behind the scenes in real theatres, except that he did not appear so irascible.

"This is Miss Alice DeVere," began Russ, "and she has come to you about her father. He has lost his voice, and she and I think he might fit in some of your productions, where you don't need any talking."

"Yes, sometimes the less talking in the movies the better," agreed Mr. Pertell. "But you do need acting. Can your father act, Miss?"

"He is Hosmer DeVere," broke in Russ. "He was with the New Columbia Theatre Company. They were to open in 'A Matter of Friendship,' but Mr. DeVere's throat trouble made him give it up."

"Hosmer DeVere! Yes, I've heard of him, and I've seen him act. So he wants an engagement here; eh?"

"Oh, it isn't exactly that!" interrupted Alice, eagerly. "He--he doesn't know a thing about it yet."

"He doesn't know about it?" repeated the manager, wonderingly.

"No. He--I--Oh, perhaps you'd better tell him, Russ," she finished.

"I will," Russ agreed, with a smile. And, while Alice looked at some of the other dramas being enacted before the clicking eyes of the cameras, her companion told how it had been planned to overcome the prejudice of Mr. DeVere and get him to try his art with the "movies."