"Hell!" said Luck. "Why didn't you say so?"

"Why didn't you say that you were turning that stuff into farce-comedy?"
Martinson came back sharply. "I could have told you it wouldn't get by. I
knew Brown wouldn't stand for anything like that; and I knew he could put
the gaff into us on that 'manner befitting' clause."

"It's a wonder you wouldn't have jarred loose from some of that wisdom,"
Luck observed tartly. "You never gave me any dope at all on this Bently
Brown person. You handed me the junk he stung you on--and believe me, as
drama he'd have stung you with it as a present!--you handed it to me to
film. I made the most of it."

"You made a mess of it," Martinson corrected peevishly.

"You laughed," Luck pointed out laconically. Then his eyes twinkled
suddenly. "'Laugh and the world laughs with you,'" he quoted shamelessly,
and took a long, satisfying suck at his cigar.

"The world won't step up and pay damages to Bently Brown," Martinson
reminded him, "if that picture is released as it stands. How many have
you made, so far?"

"I'm finishing the third; getting funnier, too, as they go along."

"You've got to cut out that funny business. You'll have to retake this
whole thing, Luck; make it straight drama. We can't afford a lawsuit,
these hard times--and injunctions tying up the releases, and damages to
pay when the thing's thrashed out in court. You'll have to retake this
whole picture. Nice bunch of useless expense, I must say, when I've