In the bustle and confusion the embarrassing moment of Hamilton's

introduction was forgotten. Bones had a manuscript locked away in the

bottom drawer of his desk, and when he had found the key for this, and

had placed the document upon the table, and when he had found certain

other papers, and when the girl was seated in a much more comfortable

chair--Bones fussed about like an old hen--the proceedings began.

Bones explained.

He had seen the derelict cinema company advertised in a technical

journal, had been impressed with the amount of the impedimenta which

accompanied the proprietorship of the syndicate, had been seized with a

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brilliant idea, bought the property, lock, stock, and barrel, for two

thousand pounds, for which sum, as an act of grace, the late

proprietors allowed him to take over the contract of Mr. Lew

Becksteine, that amiable and gifted producer.

It may be remarked, in passing, that this arrangement was immensely

satisfactory to the syndicate, which was so tied and bound to Mr.

Becksteine for the next twelve months that to have cancelled his

contract would have cost them the greater part of the purchase price

which Bones paid.

"This is the story," said Bones impressively. "And, partner Ham,

believe me, I've read many, many stories in my life, but never, never

has one touched me as this has. It's a jolly old tear-bringer, Ham.

Even a hardened, wicked old dev--old bird like you would positively

dissolve. You would really, dear old Ham, so don't deny it. You know

you've got one of the tenderest hearts in the world, you rascal!"

He got up and shook hands with Hamilton, though there was no necessity

for him to move.

"Now, clever old Becksteine thinks that this is going to be a scorcher."

"A winner, a winner," murmured Mr. Becksteine, closing his eyes and

shaking his head. He spoke on this occasion very softly, but he could

raise his voice to thrilling heights. "A sure winner, my dear sir. I

have been in the profession for twenty-seven years, and never in my

life have I read a drama which contains so much heart appeal----"

"You hear?" said Bones in a hoarse whisper.

"--so much genuine comedy----"

Bones nodded.

"--so much that I might say goes straight to the passionate heart of

the great public, as this remarkable, brilliantly planned, admirably

planted, exquisitely balanced little cameo of real life."

"It's to be a two-roller," said Bones.

"Reeler," murmured Mr. Becksteine.

"Reeler or roller, dear old thing; don't let's quarrel over how a

thing's spelt," said Bones.

"Who wrote it?" asked Hamilton.

Mr. Becksteine coughed modestly.

"Jolly old Becksteine wrote it," said Bones. "That man, Ham, is one of

the most brilliant geniuses in this or any other world. Aren't you?

Speak up, old playwright. Don't be shy, old thing."




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