upers; many a one will be jealous of you the minute you
begin to climb, and maybe they'll get fresh and try to kid you, see? But
don't you mind it--give it right back to them. Or tell me if they get
too raw. Just remember I got a mean right when I swing free."

"All right, thank you," he replied, but his bewilderment was plain.

She stared a moment, danced up to him, and seized a hand in both of
hers. "What I mean son, if you feel bothered any time--by anything--just
come to me with it, see? I'm in this piece, and I'll look out for you.
Don't forget that." She dropped his hand, and was back in the office
while he mumbled his thanks for what he knew she had meant as a
kindness.

So she was to be in the Baird piece; she, too, would be trying to give
the public something better and finer. Still, he was puzzled at her
believing he might need to be looked out for. An actor drawing forty
dollars a week could surely look out for himself. He emerged into the
open of the Holden lot as one who had at last achieved success after
long and gruelling privation. He walked briefly among the scenes of this
privation, pausing in reminiscent mood before the Crystal Palace Hotel
and other outstanding spots where he had so stoically suffered the
torments of hunger and discouragement.

He remembered to be glad now that no letter of appeal had actually gone
to Gashwiler. Suppose he had built up in the old gentleman's mind a
false hope that he might again employ Merton Gill? A good thing he had
held out! Yesterday he was starving and penniless; to-day he was fed
and on someone's payroll for probably as much money a week as Gashwiler
netted from his entire business. From sheer force of association, as he
thus meditated, he found himself hungry, and a few moments later he was
selecting from the food counter of the cafeteria whatever chanced to
appeal to the eye--no weighing of prices now.

Before he had finished his meal Henshaw and his so-called Governor
brought their trays to the adjoining table. Merton studied with new
interest the director who would some day be telling people that he had
been the first to observe the aptitude of this new star--had, in
fact, given him a lot of footage and close-ups and medium shots and
"dramatics" in The Blight of Broadway when he was a mere extra--before
he had made himself known to the public in Jeff Baird's first
worth-while piece.

He was strongly moved, now, to bring himself to Henshaw's notice whe