“Now, I’ll tell you, son; all that is very nice, but you haven’t had a lick of real experience yet, have you?--and things are pretty quiet on the lot just now. To-day there are only two companies shooting. So you couldn’t get anything to-day or to-morrow or probably for a good many days after that, and it won’t be much when you get it. You may get on as an extra after a while when some of the other companies start shooting, but I can’t promise anything, you understand. What you do now--leave me your name and address and telephone number.” “Yes, ma’am,” said the applicant, and supplied these data. “Clifford Armytage!” exclaimed the woman. “I’ll say that’s some warm name!” “Well, you see”--he paused, but resolved to confide freely in this friendly seeming person--“you see, I picked that out for a good name to act under. It sounds good, doesn’t it? And my own right name is only Merton Gill, so I thought I’d better have something that sounded a little more--well, you know.” “Sure!” said the woman. “All right, have any name you want; but I think I’ll call you Merton when you come again. You needn’t act with me, you know. Now, let’s see--name, age, height, good general wardrobe, house address, telephone number--oh, yes, tell me where I can find you during the day.” “Right out here,” he replied firmly. “I’m going to stick to this studio and not go near any of the others. If I’m not in this room I’ll be just outside there, on that bench around the tree, or just across the street where you can see through the gate and watch the people go through.” “Say!” Again the woman searched his face and broke into her friendly smile. “Say, you’re a real nut, aren’t you? How’d you ever get this way?” And again he was talking, telling now of his past and his struggles to educate himself as a screen actor--one of the best. He spoke of Simsbury and Gashwiler and of Lowell Hardy who took his stills, and of Tessie Kearns, whose sympathy and advice had done so much to encourage him. The woman was joyously attentive. Now she did more than smile. She laughed at intervals throughout the narrative, though her laughter seemed entirely sympathetic and in no way daunted the speaker. “Well, Merton, you’re a funny one--I’ll say that. You’re so kind of ignorant and appealing. And you say this Bughalter or Gigwater or whatever his name is will take you back into the store any time? Well, that’s a good thing to remember, because the picture game is a hard game. I wouldn’t discourage a nice clean boy like you for the world, but there are a lot of people in pictures right now that would prefer a steady job like that one you left.” “It’s Gashwiler--that name.” “Oh, all right, just so you don’t forget it and forget the address.” The new applicant warmly reassured her. “I wouldn’t be likely to forget that, after living there all those years.” When he left the window the woman was again saying into the telephone, “No, dear, nothing to-day. I’m sorry.”