d give thanks that two years ago when I am practically
comparatively unknown you should 'a' given me my big chance.' In them
very words she says it, and me setting here at this desk listening at
her while she said so!

"Well, I ain't lost no time, boys. Before even I sent to find you I
already got busy. I've got Appel starting for up there in half an hour
in my car to take charge of everything and with orders to spare no
expense. The funeral what I am going to give that girl! Well, she
deserves it. Always a hard worker, always on the job, always she minds
her own business, always she saves her money, always a perfect lady,
never throwing any of these here temperamentals, never going off in any
of these here highsterics, never making a kick if something goes wrong
because it happens I ain't on the lot to run things, never----"

It threatened to become a soliloquy. This time it was Quinlan who
interrupted:

"You said it all, Lobel, and it's no need that you should go on saying
it any more. The main points, I take it, are that we're all sorry and
that we've lost one swell big asset by her dying--only it's lucky for us
she didn't take ill before we got through shooting The She-Demon."

"Lucky? Huh! Actually, lucky ain't the right word for it!" said the
president. "When I think of the fix we should 'a' been in if she hadn't
finished up the picture first, I assure you, boys, it gives me the
shivers. Right here and now in the middle of being sorry it gives me the
shivers!"

"It does, does it?" There was something so ominous in Mr. Geltfin's
sadly ironic remark--something in tone and accent so lugubriously
foreboding that his hearers swung about to stare at him. "It does, does
it? Well, all what I've got to say is, Lobel, you've got some shivers
coming to you! We've all got some shivers coming to us! Having this girl
die on us is bad business!"

"Sure it is," agreed the head, "but it might be worse. There's one
awful big salary cut off the pay roll and if we can't have her with
us no longer there's nobody else can have her. And the profits
from that last picture should ought to be something positively
enormous--stupendous--sensational. Listen! I bet you that from the hour
we release----"

"You ain't going to release!" broke in Geltfin, his wizen features
sharpening into a peaky mask of grief.

"Don't talk foolishness!" snapped Mr. Lobel. "For why shouldn't we be
going to release?"

"That's it--why?" Mr. Quinlan seco