ut one rehearsal. He had here been Harold Parmalee without
effort. Also he had not been asked to do again the Parmalee trick of
lighting a cigarette nor of withdrawing the handkerchief from its cuff
to twice touch his forehead in moments of amused perplexity. Baird had
merely uttered a low "Fine!" at beholding these bits.

He drew a long breath of relief when released from the set. Seemingly
he had met the test. Baird had said that morning, "Now we'll just run
a little kind of test to find out a few things about you," and had
followed with a general description of the scenes. It was to be of no
great importance--a minor detail of the picture. Perhaps this had been
why the wealthy actor breakfasted in rather a plainly furnished room on
hard-boiled eggs and potato salad. Perhaps this had been why the costume
given him had been not too well fitting, not too nice in detail. Perhaps
this was why they had allowed the cross-eyed man to appear as his valet.
He was quite sure this man would not do as a valet in a high-class
picture. Anyway, however unimportant the scene, he felt that he had
acquitted himself with credit.

The Montague girl, who had made him up that morning, with close
attention to his eyebrows, watched him from back of the cameras, and she
seized both his hands when he left the set. "You're going to land," she
warmly assured him. "I can tell a trouper when I see one."

She was in costume. She was apparently doing the part of a society girl,
though slightly overdressed, he thought.

"We're working on another set for this same picture," she explained,
"but I simply had to catch you acting. You'll probably be over with us
to-morrow. But you're through for the day, so beat it and have a good
time."

"Couldn't I come over and watch you?"

"No, Baird doesn't like to have his actors watching things they ain't
in; he told me specially that you weren't to be around except when
you're working. You see, he's using you in kind of a special part in
this multiple-reeler, and he's afraid you might get confused if you
watched the other parts. I guess he'll start you to-morrow. You're to be
in a good, wholesome heart play. You'll have a great chance in it."

"Well, I'll go see if I can find another Parmalee picture for this
afternoon. Say, you don't think I was too much like him in that scene,
do you? You know it's one thing if I look like him--I can't help
that--but I shouldn't try to imitate him too closely, should I? I