"No, Baird doesn't like to have his actors watching things they ain't in; he told me specially that you weren't to be around except when you're working. You see, he's using you in kind of a special part in this multiple-reeler, and he's afraid you might get confused if you watched the other parts. I guess he'll start you to-morrow. You're to be in a good, wholesome heart play. You'll have a great chance in it."
"Well, I'll go see if I can find another Parmalee picture for this afternoon. Say, you don't think I was too much like him in that scene, do you? You know it's one thing if I look like him—I can't help that—but I shouldn't try to imitate him too closely, should I? I got to think about my own individuality, haven't I?"
"Sure, sure you have! But you were fine—your imitation wasn't a bit too close. You can think about your own individuality this afternoon when you're watching him."
| ∗ | ∗ | ∗ | ∗ | ∗ | ∗ | ∗ |
Late that day in the projection room Baird and the Montague girl watched the "rush" of that morning's episode.
"The squirrel's done it," whispered the girl after the opening scene. It seemed to her that Merton Gill on the screen might overhear her comment.
Even Baird was low-toned. "Looks so," he agreed.
"If that ain't Parmalee then I'll eat all the hard-boiled eggs on the lot."
Baird rubbed his hands. "It's Parmalee plus," he corrected.
"Oh, Mother, Mother!" murmured the girl while the screen revealed the actor studying his photographs.
"He handled all right in that spot," observed Baird.
"He'll handle right—don't worry. Ain't I told you he's a natural born trouper?"
The mail was abandoned in humorous despair. The cigarette lighted in a flawless Parmalee manner, the smoke idly brushed aside. "Poor, silly little girls," the actor was seen to say.
