Joe Carlin bought a _Journal_ at the corner and waited for a Northend bus. His brain built golden, gleaming air castles. Next September he might have Sonny Baker’s fat part in _City Boy_. And there’d be other shows, other parts. Or perhaps some new sponsor would come along with a new five-a-week and he wouldn’t try out for the part in _City Boy_. He felt sorry for Sonny. It would be tough to play a part one season and lose it the next. There were plenty of empty seats on the bus. Money? Next fall he ought to roll in money. He opened the _Journal_ to the radio page. A column of gossip and comment carried a short, routine paragraph: Sonny Baker, local radio star, left this morning for the coast to play in summer stock. There’s a whisper that Hollywood talent scouts engineered the engagement. Hollywood? Talent scouts? That could mean only a possible moving-picture contract. Perhaps another Mickey Rooney in the making. Fame. The real money. Joe Carlin thought in dizzy happiness: “And Amby says I’m going to be a better actor than Sonny.” ----- Footnote 1: Reprinted by permission of Charles Scribner’s Sons. Footnote 2: Reprinted by permission of Random House, Inc. CHAPTER 3 Ambrose Carver, freshly shaved and barbered, sat in the Carlin living-room and talked about Ambrose Carver. Tom Carlin held a cold pipe between his teeth; Kate Carlin was quiet, non-committal. Joe thought in dismay: “Dad won’t sign.” “Fifty per cent of all Joe earns until he’s twenty-one,” Tom Carlin said bluntly, “seems like a lot of money.” “Mr. Carlin,” Amby said earnestly, “you’re looking at this from the wrong angle. I don’t mean I get Joe four stars overnight. I’m good; I admit it. But I’m not that good. It takes time. Until I get Joe some contracts, I make nothing. Does anybody work for you for nothing?” “Hardly.” “In show business the answer is ‘Yes.’ Show business is different. It pays off different. You see, Mrs. Carlin?” Kate Carlin drawled: “Are you worth fifty per cent?” “Ah!” said Amby briskly. “Now we are getting places. Without an agent what happens to Joe? Who knows him? Is there any producer or casting director who says: ‘Carlin was good in so-and-so; call him in’? No, because Joe has never had a part. So he has to make the rounds of the stations, day after day, round and round. He is not a radio actor; he is a race-horse. But when I am his agent, I do the round and round. I keep the directors remembering there is a Joe Carlin.” Joe counted seconds of silence. “You may have something there,” Kate Carlin admitted.