Janet Hardy in Hollywood

The lights were out and the picture started. Janet read the title: “‘Broad Valley’ with Curt Newsom and Bertie Jackson, directed by William Fenstow; produced by the Ace Motion Picture Corporation.” Then came the cast of characters and well toward the bottom of the list she found her name. Her heart leaped and she held Helen’s arm close. What a thrill it was to actually read her own name in the cast of characters of a film.

Then the action started, the story of Curt Newsom’s fight to hold title to his ranch.

Almost before Janet and Helen knew it they were in the picture, the midwestern cousins arriving for a visit and in spite of herself Janet chuckled as she stumbled over the rug. It DID look wholly accidental.

Then for a time they were out of the action, coming back again in the riding sequence in which Janet was dumped into the watering trough. This entire bit of action had been kept in the film and she heard several hearty chuckles as she went headlong into the trough.

After that came the wild ride in which Janet was pitched from her horse and the final victory of Curt over his enemies. “Broad Valley” came to a close with Curt winning the affections of Bertie Jackson and Janet felt her distaste for the actress growing as she watched the final fadeout.

The lights in the projection room flashed up and Henry Thorne turned to the girls.

“Nice work,” he said.

“Do you really mean it, Dad?” asked Helen.

“Of course I do, honey. I think both of you handled your parts very well and Janet added a couple of top notch comedy incidents.”

“They weren’t intentional,” Janet assured him.

“Then that explains why they look so natural. Billy will be a sap if he cuts them out in the final version.”

“And I’m not a sap,” said Billy Fenstow, who had quietly joined them. “How about my next western? Think you could stand a few more weeks in my company?”

“Are you serious?” demanded Janet.

“Enough so that I’m promising you parts right now. In fact, we’ll pay you $75 a week instead of the $50 a week you got for this first picture. How does that sound?”

“Not enough,” put in Henry Thorne, “especially if the girls can give you some more comedy as good as the stuff they put into this one.”

“Now wait a minute,” protested the little director. “I don’t work on budgets that run up to half a million. I’ve got to watch my pay-roll.”

“I was only kidding, Billy. But honestly, the girls ought to be worth a hundred a week. You’ll only use them a couple of weeks and that’s pretty cheap.”

“I won’t make any promises about a hundred a week,” said Billy, “but you can count on another job if you want to join the company for my next western.”

“Then we’re in right now,” decided Helen, and Janet nodded her approval.

Chapter XXIV

“KINGS OF THE AIR”

The next morning Janet found an interesting paragraph in one of the morning papers, which had been written by a reporter who had attended the screening of “Broad Valley.”

“One of the pleasant surprises about this latest Billy Fenstow western was the work of Helen Thorne and Janet Hardy, two newcomers. Miss Thorne is the daughter of the famous director and Miss Hardy is a friend of hers from the middle west. Although playing minor rôles, both girls handled their parts well with Miss Hardy providing several of the best comedy touches seen in a western by this reviewer in some months. It is reported that both will be in the next western which the prolific Fenstow will produce.”

Janet read the brief comment three times, then clipped it out of the paper, wrote a brief note home, and sent the clipping to her folks.

Later in the day they received their final vouchers from the studio for work on “Broad Valley.” Altogether the two weeks work on the picture had netted them $100 apiece, more money than either of them had ever earned in a similar length of time.

“No wonder girls come to Hollywood,” said Helen as she looked at the check.

“Yes, but remember that we’re lucky. We didn’t have to break down any barriers; we didn’t have to make introductions. The way was all smoothed out for us. Look at those poor kids over at the casting office.”

Helen turned in the direction Janet pointed. Half a hundred young men and women were waiting patiently in a line before the window of the casting office. Most of them were rejected; only one or two were allowed inside.

“That’s what happens to the average seeker of fame in the films,” said Janet. “So many, with some beauty and high hopes, come out here expecting to make a success, and then almost starve. Of course they get a bit once in a while, but it’s hardly enough to buy their food much less their clothes and all of the other necessary things.”

“You’re right, of course,” admitted Helen. “If it hadn’t been for Dad we’d never have had a look-in.”

They were having lunch that noon at the studio restaurant with Helen’s father. They were waiting when he arrived. Accompanying him was a stranger.

“Girls, I want you to meet Mr. Rexler, general manager of the company.”

The general manager, tall, thin and exceedingly nervous, greeted them cordially, then seemed to forget that they even existed for he talked business from the moment they reached their table until lunch was over. But in spite of that Janet and Helen enjoyed the hour. Some of the most famous stars on the Ace lot were lunching there that noon and Janet and Helen enjoyed watching them come in.

The general manager, a man of quick thought and action, suddenly turned toward them.

“I saw ‘Broad Valley’ the other night. Congratulations on a nice bit of work.”

The hour passed quickly, with Helen’s father and the general manager continuing their conference in the executive’s private office in the administration building.

“Dad and Rexler are having trouble over the story for the new air picture,” said Helen. “I heard him talking with mother just last night. They can’t agree on the final version. Dad was going over it last night.”

“I’d like to read it,” said Janet.

“I’ll get it for you if he brings it home tonight.”

That night Janet had her chance to scan the script of Henry Thorne’s next picture. The tentative title was “Kings of the Air.” The action was fast and stirring, the panorama of the story covering the entire transcontinental route of one air mail system and Janet could understand that there was material here for a really great picture. But there was something lacking – a crashing climax that would make the spectators grip their seats.

Henry Thorne, watching Janet as she laid the script aside, spoke quietly.

“If you can suggest a suitable climax you can just about name your own ticket on our lot,” he said.

“How about a race for a contract?” suggested Helen.

“Too old; it’s worn out.”

“Then why not have the plane going through with valuable papers which are needed for say,” Janet paused, “a naval conference at Washington, on the outcome of which may hinge the fate of the world.”

Henry Thorne started to reject the idea, but halted. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Something I read in a paper several months ago suggested it,” admitted Janet. “Navy planes were racing across country with a naval envoy and they got held up somewhere in Wyoming on account of bad weather. You could have your mail plane take over there after the navy ship was grounded.”

“That would give the navy a black eye.”

“Some other solution could be worked out then,” said Janet.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. It would require some rewriting of the script, but we’ve got to have a terrific air race against time and the elements in this thing for a conclusion. I’ll talk it over with Rexler in the morning.”