The Oregon daily journal. (Portland, Or.) 1902-1972, July 09, 1916, Page 53, Image 53

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    THE SUNDAY FICTION MAGAZINE, JULY 9, 1916.
ILOVE
MOVIE
OH
, W, Bess "
"No, I won't talk to
you!"
The little leading
woman crooked her
neck -to look op la to
the eyes of the big
man before her. Her
pretty face waa flashed with resentment.
"And don't you 'Aw, Bess me any
more; I'm Miss Eaton to you."
, "Aw, Bess "
j Bang!
The dressing-room door slammed shut
and came within
a half Inch of fur
ther elevating a
nose already
rather retrousse.
Mr. James Win
ters, star rider
And leading man
Of the Fearless
Feature Film
Company's No. t
troupe, stared
blankly at the
blank faoe of the
door. He swore.
Fire minutes
later his bosom
friend, Tom Has
tings, the camera
man, found him
slouched upon the bench in the
studio courtyard, staring mood
ily Into space.
"How goes It, Jim?" greeted Hastings.
Mr. Winters groaned.
"Just when we had it all fixed," he re
marked plaintively, "and the bungalow
and everything all ready and she gets
peeved and calls It off."
"Well," said his frlenf, "you know
when a guy's engaged be hadn't ought to
go around with a big blonde on his arm
where his girl can see."
"Aw, you know, Tom, I didn't care for
the blonde. I only did that to get Bess
jealous. Look how she was cutting up
with that geek Valencia taking bouquets
' from him and givln' htm smiles! I thought
If I was to make out I was mad and show
around with the blonde that she Aw,
what's the use?"
"What did she say?" inquired his sym
pathetic chum.
"Say! What didn't she say? Told me
X was a deceivin hound and she wouldn't
trust me around the corner with a female
. Hottentot and It was all off and give me
back my ring. And last night she went to
the photo players' ball with Valencia."
"Aw, well!" said Hastings. "There's
just as gooa starts in tne ocean as was
ever hooked. Tou should worry."
Jim Winters heaved a heavy sigh.
"Tou don't savvy, Tom. That little girl
has got me oing. I want her! And if I
can't square myself somehow "
By Norman Springer
Illugtraied oy Irving K,
myself some way there Is that little bun
galow all ready."
IL
OUT on the Mission road the Peerless
No. I troupe were engaged In portray
ing the West as it never was. Bechapped
Manoir.
Then she noticed the set expressionon
the man's face.
"Oh. well!" she said with dignity. "If
you're hoodlum enough to take advantage
Si
' fH'"
and sombreroed cowboys,- vicious, knife
wielding Mexicans,' dashing maidens In dl
vldid skirts with pearl-handled revolvers,
a plotting don, a distressed beauty, a he
roic sheriff all passed before the camera
at the behest of a distracted director, and
He finished with a despondent shake of sinned and fought and loved and died, and
the head. produced "the drammer with a punch."
"Oh. come!" soothed the other. "Cheer Down the Mission road galloped Jim
up! Maybe she's Just getting even with winters, dad In the traditional frock coat
you for that blonde. Tou know, skirts are and Kansas City boots of a motion-picture
funny that way. She'll come around all sheriff. In front of the camera the vli-
rlght. What you want to do is to get her Uvinoua don. surrounded by his evil band
off alone some place and explain matters menaced a fainting heroine with a butcher face
w no,. anue.
;. "I've tried." said Jim sadly. "I've tried into the picture dashed the sheriff
for a week, and she won't listen. And she killed the dastard with a blank shot from
won t see me
Jim Winters
threw the other
man and stood
over him.
of your size and make me listen while you
insult my friends "
"Aw, Bess "
"and brute enough to use force toward
a lady -"
Jim Winters loosened his grasp on the
as if his hands were burning as his
was. He lifted her to the ground.
''Bess," he pleaded, leaning out of bis
saddle, "I was jealous, and "
UT vrM want biu Iiaw T m K..
nights-sends down word his forty-five, leaned far out from hlaaad. it - .v ,..
r;r:i!!rrenterta,nin,r that ie int - ... 'swung her : w
aeniy tevivea maiden. Up the road and palm stlnglngly against his cheek and
around a bend 800 yards away he awent trto Anmm a
persistent guy Valencia.
Hastings snorted.
, "What you want to do, Jim, n to make
her listen." he said. "Women like tn h
bossed. Get her while you're working.
Oet her today we're goipg out on the
Mission road to finish up that 'Pedro's
Vengeance' thing. Watch your chance and
get her alone and talk your darn head off."
Jim. felt of his nose and pondered
dubiously.
"You don't know Bess," he objected.
"She's spunky. If she don't want to listen,
she won't. But I'll try. I got to square
wun ner in his arms.
"iLet me down! Stop!" demanded the
ein.
Jim reined in his mount, but clasped all
the more tightly the squirming figure on
his saddle bow. His face bore a look of
grim determination.
"Aw, Bess!" he said. "Tou just got to
listen! Tou won't give me a chance any
other time to explain, so Vm going to hold
you itill I'm through. It was that guy
Valencia got my goat "
"Indeed!" heatedly interposed the girl.
Jim straightened up and stared after
the slim figure swinging swiftly around
thebend. , He groaned in spirit and swore,
soulfully; then rode slowly after her.
When Jim rejoined the company it was
preparing for the return to the studio. He
turned over his horse to the hostler and
sought the side of his friend, the camera
man. ,
"Well, how's she going?" Inquired Has
tings. "Did you have a talk with her?"
"Talk!" snorted Jim.
He rubbed his cheek and looked across
the road, where Bessie was cnatting and
laughing with the very don who had so
recently attempted to slit her throat.
Jim swore.
"I hate a Mex," he announced.
"Got a nice way with women, ain't he?"
said Hastings, watching the girl's com
panion. Jim mumbled profanely. Joe Valencia
had a nice way with women. He was
fully as large In body as Winters, and
he had the graceful carriage, clear
, olive skin and speaking eyes of the
Spanish Californlan. He was hand
some, notwithstanding a jagged scar
on one cheek that gave a queer, sinister
twist to his Hps. Joe made a most attrac
tive villain on the screen.
"For a nickel." announced Winters, "I'd
go over -there and knock his darn block
off."
"Don't," advised his chum. "You're in
bad enough now.
"And he ain't a Mex. He was born
right here in Los Angeles. Hie folks got
money; he's been to college."
"I don't care." growled Jim. "He's a
Mex, Just the same. If his folks been here
forever. He looks like one, and I bet he
packs a knife. And if ho don't watch out
he's going to get his."
"Maybe she likes him the best," sug
gested Hastings. "You oughtn't to butt
In then, Jim."
Jim turned a face of misery to his friend.
"It's what I'm scart of." he said. "I'm
afraid for her. ou remember the talk
about Valencia and the girt he was going
with when he was with the Mult (scope
outfit? I tell you, if he acted like that to
Bess I'd kill him."
"Easy." admonished Hasting!;. "Bess
Is-aMse little kid; shell look out for her
self, all right. Don't you go roughhousto'
or you'll queer your last chance."
m.
WH12V the troupe arrived at the
studio Jim went to his dressing -room
to, rid himself of his make-up. While
he was changing, Hastings stuck his head
in at the door.
"Andy wants to see you." he an
nounced. "He's got a new one we com
mence in the morning. I'm going to load
the boxes now."
After leisurely completing his toilet Jim
went down to the little cubbyhole behind
the gla -covered stage, that Andy Fricket
called his office.
Andy Pricket was the chief director and
star scenario writer for the fearless
forces. He was a little, bald man, with
mild-blue eyes, a superimagination. and
one ambition in life to turn out film
film with thrills.
When Jim entered Fricket was seated
at his desk, nervously fumbling the type
written sheets of a manuscript. Upon the
only other chair in the office reposed the
dainty form of Miss Bessie Eaton. She
met- Jim's pleading glance with an icy
stare; a tilt to her piquant chin checked
his greeting. Andy Fricket looked up as
the door closed.
"Jim, turn around slow; I want to six
you up,"
Somewhat taken aback. Winters slowly
pivoted himself on his beel as requested.
"M-m-m!" ' mumbled ' the director.
"You're big enough and ugly enough; only
it's too bad you're bow-legged."
Jim shot a look at the girl. She was re
garding the offending limbs with- quii
sical smile.
"I know I'm a little bow-legged," said
Jim in an aggrieved tone. "But you
hadn't ought to call me for that. I got it
from ridln' so much, and it don't register."
"No." remarked Mr. Fricket abeently.
,"It won't matter. If s your mug I 'want. I
got to find some one who can look like a
brute; you'll do. Miss Eaton recommend
ed you for the part."
Miss Eaton sniffed.
"Say." demanded Jim. aroused, "what
yon getting at? I know I ain't any prize
, (Comtimned on Pfe It)