velvet jacket. Even in Gashwiler's he stood out as an artist. Merton
received his order, and noting that Gashwiler was beyond earshot
bespoke his services for the following afternoon.

"Say, Lowell, be on the lot at two sharp to-morrow, will you? I want
to shoot some Western stuff--some stills."

Merton thrilled as he used these highly technical phrases. He had
not read his magazines for nothing.

Lowell Hardy considered, then consented. He believed that he, too,
might some day be called to Hollywood after they had seen the sort
of work he could turn out. He always finished his art studies of
Merton with great care, and took pains to have the artist's
signature entirely legible. "All right, Mert, I'll be there. I got
some new patent paper I'll try out on these."

"On the lot at two sharp to shoot Western stuff," repeated Merton
with relish.

"Right--o!" assented Lowell, and returned to more prosaic studio
art.

The day wore itself to a glad end. The last exigent customer had
gone, the curtains were up, the lights were out, and at five minutes
past nine the released slave, meeting Tessie Kearns at her front
door, escorted her with a high heart to the second show at the Bijou
Palace. They debated staying out until after the wretched comedy had
been run, but later agreed that they should see this, as Tessie
keenly wished to know why people laughed at such things. The antics