That day she shoved off. Lacking the fare, she thumbed her way. She had no difficulty flagging rides. For Mary, as we've told you, is a beaut. She has soft brown hair and a figure curved in the right places to accentuate all her loveliness--all 118 pounds and five-feet-five of it. So she had no difficulty finding work here, as a model by day and as a photo girl in the Grill Room of the Hotel Roosevelt at night. Into the Grill one night came Pasternak and his own lovely wife, accepting an invitation extended by Guy Lombardo, maestro at the spot. Miss Stuart, hotly hoping she'd be seen by a Hollywood mogul, had been fired from the photo concession the day before. But Destiny hadn't been; it was still working. Through the voice of one of the musicians in Lombardo's band, whom she knew well, Destiny whispered to her that Pasternak had a reservation for that evening. For a few bucks, Mary fixed it up with another photo girl and paraded past the Pasternaks with the camera. Mrs. Pasternak saw Mary first, remarked about her beauty to Joe. Mary, near their table, began to hum in tune to the music. Pasternak addressed her. "Do you sing?" he asked. Mary modestly admitted she did--a little. Pasternak asked to hear her. Mary was unprepared. He said he might leave town next day. So he asked Lombardo to let her try a number with the orchestra. When Mary got there, she didn't even bother to talk the song over with the piano player. Confidentially, she had rehearsed it with him earlier in the day, framing up the whole thing for Pasternak's visit. She sang two songs. Pasternak later admitted she was no world-beater as a thrush. And he had caught on to the game. "I decided that any girl with that much gall had a hell of a chance in pictures," he told Lombardo. So he signed her to a contract--that night--without a screen test. Pasternak, who also discovered the charming and talented Kathryn Grayson, has flirted successfully with Fate more than once. His own stunning wife was, before meeting him, a chorus girl who, in her teens, had been around Broadway so long she was considered "an old face" and practically washed up. So she joined a touring line of rumba dancers. Far from New York, Pasternak saw her in a night club, asked to meet her, whipped out his fountain pen and a contract and shipped her to Universal, at which studio he then labored. Dorothy appeared in minor roles in several pictures. Then she interrupted her promising career to marry her discoverer--a dear friend of her ex-sweetie, Harry Richman, whom she had once followed to London only to be deported by the British authorities because she had neither passport nor money. But, if any guy says to you, "Honey, you oughtta be in pichures. Let's go up to my room and talk it over," _DON'T_. That is _not_ the way to get in pictures. That's the way to get in trouble! 16. GUYS AND PEARLS (For Men Only) Don't be a cluck!