Читать книгу Janet Hardy in Radio City - Wheeler Ruthe S. - Страница 3

The newcomers were Cora Dean and Margie Blake, classmates from Clarion, who had been Janet and Helen’s chief rivals for almost every honor during their last four years in school.

“What under the sun do you suppose they want here?” asked Helen under her breath.

“We’ll soon find out,” retorted Janet, rising and advancing to greet Cora and Margie.

Cora was dark like Helen, while Margie’s hair was almost as golden blonde as Janet’s, the difference being that Margie used drug store coloring, and Janet depended on the natural shade.

“Hello Cora, hello Margie. This is a surprise,” said Janet as she greeted them and Helen echoed the sentiment a minute later.

“We’ve been touring through the west. When we learned a company was shooting a picture out here we came on over. We didn’t know until we stopped in the village that it was the company you’re with.” It was Cora, her tongue as sharp as ever, making the explanation.

Margie was taking in everything and fairly gaping at the cowboys who in their picturesque garb, were lounging nearby waiting for the gong to call them to supper.

Billy Fenstow came by and Janet called to him, introducing Cora and Margie.

“Have them stay for dinner and meet the company,” said the director, who, with the film on schedule, felt particularly hospitable.

“Oh, we’d love that,” gurgled Cora. “We’ve always wanted to see a picture being taken.”

Billy Fenstow scratched his head.

“Well, we’re all through for today, but if Janet and Helen could bunk double and give you one of the beds in their room, you could stay over and see the final shooting tomorrow.”

“Why, that would be grand,” put in Margie, “and I’m sure Janet and Helen won’t mind doubling up.”

There was little Janet or Helen could say, except to agree, and they helped Cora and Margie get their bags out of the car and escorted them up to the room which they occupied.

At dinner that night they introduced the girls to all of the members of the company who ate at the ranchhouse and Janet noted that Cora could hardly keep her eyes off tall, handsome Curt Newsom. Curt was nice to them, as he was to everybody, explaining carefully all of the questions they asked.

That night Cora asked a question that had kept her on edge all evening.

“Do you suppose we could get in one of the scenes tomorrow?” she asked Janet. “Surely you or Helen could get the director to use us just a little bit.”

Janet was dubious. It was the last day at the ranch and there would be much to be done. Billy Fenstow would be in no mood for trifles such as working friends into scenes.

“If it wasn’t the last day I think it could be arranged,” put in Helen, “but I’d hate to ask Mr. Fenstow to do it under the circumstances.”

Margie pouted visibly and Cora, always arrogant, flared up.

“Oh, of course you won’t. Just because your father’s a director and they have to put you in pictures you won’t say a good word for anyone else. How do we know you’re even in this company?”

“You’ll have to take our word for it until you see the picture on the screen,” retorted Helen.

Janet could understand the tremendous desire of Cora and Margie to appear in a scene. It was the most natural thing in the world and she felt just a little sorry for them.

“I’ll speak to Mr. Fenstow in the morning,” she promised. “If he’s in a good mood he may find a spot for you, but if he’s grouchy he’ll probably order you away from the place.”

“How do you know when he’s grouchy?” asked Margie.

“You don’t until after you’ve asked him,” replied Janet, with a thin smile.

Cora and Margie exhibited a tremendous curiosity, asking questions about everything and from almost everyone, Cora especially plaguing Curt Newsom, until the tall cowboy star finally found an excuse to escape from her constant barrage.

It was late when they went to bed and Janet and Helen, sleeping in a narrow, single bed, did not rest well. They were awake at dawn, both of them feeling tired and worn.

Cora and Margie, imbued with the excitement of actually being with a movie company, appeared as vivacious as ever.

At breakfast Billy Fenstow outlined plans for the final day’s shooting.

“We’ve got one more scene to take in the village,” he explained. “It’s a shot of a group of townspeople watching the arrival of Curt and the rustlers he has captured.”

Impetuous Cora Dean broke in.

“May Margie and I get in the crowd scene?” she asked eagerly.

A frown appeared on Billy Fenstow’s usually bland face, for he disliked greatly being interrupted when he was outlining his plans to his company.

“We’ll see about it later,” he said curtly, and continued with his explanation.

After breakfast Cora faced Janet.

“Too bad you couldn’t have said a good word for us with your director,” she flared.

“There wasn’t a real good chance,” replied Janet. “I warned you last night not to bother him if he wasn’t in a good mood.”

“But how was I to know?” complained Cora.

“Well, you do now,” said Janet, and it was hard to keep from smiling. But she could realize how much it would mean to Cora and Margie and it would be mean of her not to help them just a little so later she spoke to “Skeets” Irwin, the assistant director, and “Skeets” promised to get Cora and Margie into the crowd scene.

Janet and Helen were in the same scene and they changed into their costumes, Janet into a dusty riding habit and Helen into a gingham dress and the apron that was her badge as a waitress in the village’s one restaurant.

The girls rode down to the village, Cora and Margie following in their own car. “Skeets” had provided them with appropriate costumes and they were so excited they could hardly talk.

Billy Fenstow was back giving instructions to the riders who were to sweep down into the village while “Skeets” handled the scene at the village.

“Don’t stand around like a bunch of wooden Indians,” said the assistant director. “Show some interest when those horsemen come over the hills. I want plenty of action in this scene.”

“Keep close to us,” Janet advised Cora and Margie. “All you have to do is look excited.”

“That’s going to be easy,” smiled Margie. “I’m so nervous now I can’t stay still a minute.”

Final instructions were given and the cameras started grinding as a massed body of riders swept over the crest of the hills and galloped madly toward the village.

The girls, who had been in the restaurant, rushed into the street and joined the other members of the company and the villagers who had been pressed into service as extras.

It was action and good action. Janet thrilled at the magnificent riding of Curt Newsom, who rode with consumate skill and grace. He was a part of the horse he was astride and it was no effort to Janet to register extreme excitement.

The mounted men, a band of captives in the center of the group, reined in before the astonished villagers and Curt, dismounting, pulled one of the captives from his saddle and strode toward the door which was marked sheriff’s office. Curt pulled the protesting rider after him, disappearing into the sheriff’s office. That finished the sequence and the cameras stopped clicking.

It was the last of the big scenes and the rest of the day was to be spent in picking up shots to fill out the story.

“Do you suppose we looked all right?” asked Cora, who had been fitted out in a housedress and sunbonnet. Margie was similarly attired.

“I’m sure you looked your parts,” Janet assured them, “but don’t be too disappointed when you see the picture. There’ll only be a flash of this action on the screen and the ‘mob’ scene won’t last more than a few seconds.”

“We’ll see that one of the theaters at home books it,” declared Margie firmly, “and maybe Pete Benda will run a story about us.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did,” agreed Janet.

They went back to the ranchhouse for lunch and Billy Fenstow beamed.

“We’re ahead of schedule now. Another two hours and we’ll be ready to start for the studio where we can finish up the interiors in a couple more days.”

The bus which had brought them from Hollywood rolled into the valley and several of the cowboys started loading baggage and equipment aboard it.

Janet and Helen went upstairs, followed by Cora and Margie. Both of the latter had been hinting that they would like an invitation to stay for a time in Hollywood, but they had been so mean and small during their high school days that neither Janet nor Helen could bear the thought of entertaining them.

“Coming back to Clarion this fall?” asked Cora, her dark eyes fairly snapping as she waited eagerly for the answer to her question.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” replied Janet, quite truthfully.

“How about you, Helen?” It was Margie asking this time.

Helen shook her head. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Can’t you stay on in pictures?” asked Cora, a tinge of sarcasm in her voice.

That nettled Janet. “If we want to,” she retorted, “but neither one of us can see much of a future in being actresses in western films.”

“With all of the influence your father has, you ought to be able to get into better pictures,” Margie told Helen, and it was her turn to feel a mounting flood of color in her cheeks.

“You can leave Dad out of this. He gave us an introduction, but we’ve won our parts,” snapped Helen.

The girls finished packing in silence and were ready to go down stairs when “Skeets” stuck his head in the door.

“Bus is all ready to start back for the city,” he said, picking up Janet’s and Helen’s bags.

Cora and Margie took their own luggage and followed them down stairs.

“Do you think we ought to invite them to Hollywood with us?” whispered Helen.

“That’s up to you,” replied Janet, “for they would have to be entertained in your home.”

“Well, what do you honestly think?”

Janet didn’t answer at once, but as they reached the bus, she said, “I think I’ve had about all of the insinuations I can stand from either one of them.”

Helen smiled. “That’s a help, for I feel the same way.” She turned toward the other girls, who were putting their baggage in their car.

“We may see you in Clarion before college starts this fall,” she said.

“Thanks for all your help,” flipped Cora, seating herself behind the wheel. “I’m sure we’ll enjoy ourselves in Hollywood. We may run into you someplace.”

She threw in the gears and the car lurched away along the dusty road that wound through the hills to the main highway some miles away.

“Wasn’t she nice and cordial?” smiled Helen as she turned back to Janet.

“Cora hasn’t changed a bit and I don’t suppose she will. What fun she could have if she’d only be a little less selfish,” said Janet.