s behind his back,
figuratively speaking, for being such an early riser on such a day. Not
one of them asked him any questions about his reasons for leaving the
Acme; reasons, in the motion-picture business, are generally invented
upon demand and have but a fictitious value at best. And since it is
never a matter of surprise when any director or any member of any company
decides to try a new field, it would seem that change is one of the most
unchanging features of the business.

Luck had no qualms of conscience, either for his treatment of Martinson
and his overtures, or for his disturbances of five other perfectly
inoffensive movie managers. He dressed with mechanical precision and with
his mind shuttling back and forth from his Big Picture to the
possibilities of his next position. He folded his scenario and placed it
in a long envelope, hunted until he found his rubbers, took his raincoat
over his arm and his umbrella in his hand, and went blithely to the
elevator. It was too stormy for his machine, so he caught a street car
and went straight to the bungalow where the Happy Family were still
snoring at peace with the world and each other.

Still Luck had no qualms of conscience. He lingered in the kitchen just
long enough to say howdy to Rosemary Green who was anxiously watching a
new and much admired coffee percolator "to see if it were going to perk,"
she told him gravely. He assured Rosemary that he had come all the way
out there in the hope of being invited to breakfast. Then he went into a
sleep-charged atmosphere and gave a real, old-time range yell.

"Why, I saw that peaked little person with Mr. Martinson," Mrs. Andy
remarked slightingly at the breakfast table. "Was that Bently Brown?
And he has the nerve to want to stand around and boss you--oh, find, me
an umbrella, somebody! I shall choke if I can't go and tell him to his
silly, pink face what a conceited little idiot he is!" (You will see
why it was that Rosemary Green had been adopted without question as a
member of the Happy Family.) "I hope you told him straight out, Luck
Lindsay, that these boys would simply tear him limb from limb if he
ever dared to butt in on your work. Why, it's you that made the picture
fit to look at!"

Luck let his eyes thank her for her loyalty, and held out his empty cup
for more coffee. "I came out," he drawled quietly, "to find out what you
fellows are going to do about it. Of course, they'll get somebody else to
go ah