"Well, how is the great marine drama coming on?" he asked, his voice
being more hoarse than usual. He had done some talking, as he found it
helped to give a better idea of the characters he portrayed, but it was
not necessary, in these picture plays, to get his voice "over the
footlights."

"There has been a halt," explained Ruth with a smile. "This is Jack
Jepson, Father. He is to have one of the principal parts, but he balked
at some underhand work, and--"

"Pleased t' know you," Jack broke in with a jerky bow. "Your daughter's
a smart gal," he said. "She made everything as clear as daylight t' me.
I'm goin' on with th' play now."

"That is when Mr. Pertell is ready," put in Alice. "He seems to have
found some difficulty in that cowboy drama."

This was evident, for the Western play had been stopped, and the camera
operator, with a weary look on his face, was leaning against a post, as
if in despair of ever completing that day's run of film.

"No, no, Mr. Bunn, you must not do it that way," the manager was saying.
"When Ardite, in the character of the young outlaw, shoots at you, stand
up without flinching. That's your part--to be indifferent to gunfire."

"Oh, that's my part, is it? Just to be shot at!" cried the old "Ham"
actor. "Well, it's a mighty poor part, that's all I've got to say! It
will be the last time I ever take a part like that. Oh, why did I ever
leave the legitimate stage?"