Merton of the Movies | Page 8

Harry Leon Wilson
manfully recovered a clear tone of pathos.
"And now, old pal, they're a-takin' ye from me--yes, we got to part, you
an' me. I'm never goin' to set eyes on ye agin. But we got to be brave,
old pal; we got to keep a stiff upper lip--no cryin' now; no bustin'
down."
The speaker unclasped his arms and stood with head bowed, his face
working curiously, striving to hold back the sobs.
For Merton Gill was once more Clifford Armytage, popular idol of the
screen, in his great role of Buck Benson bidding the accustomed
farewell to his four-footed pal that had brought him safely through
countless dangers. How are we to know that in another couple of
hundred feet of the reel Buck will escape the officers of the law who
have him for that hold-up of the Wallahoola stage--of which he was
innocent--leap from a second-story window of the sheriff's office onto
the back of his old pal, and be carried safely over the border where the
hellhounds can't touch him until his innocence is proved by Estelle St.
Clair, the New York society girl, whose culture demanded a gentleman
but whose heart demanded a man. How are we to know this? We only
know that Buck Benson always has to kiss his horse good-by at this
spot in the drama.
Merton Gill is impressively Buck Benson. His sobs are choking him.
And though Gashwiler's delivery horse is not a pinto, and could hardly

get over the border ahead of a sheriff's posse, the scene is affecting.
"Good-by, again, old pal, and God bless ye!" sobs Merton.
CHAPTER II
THAT NIGHT--THE APARTMENTS OF CLIFFORD ARMYTAGE
Merton Gill mealed at the Gashwiler home. He ate his supper in moody
silence, holding himself above the small gossip of the day that engaged
Amos and his wife. What to him meant the announcement that Amos
expected a new line of white goods on the morrow, or Mrs. Gashwiler's
version of a regrettable incident occurring at that afternoon's meeting of
the Entre Nous Five Hundred Club, in which the score had been
juggled adversely to Mrs. Gashwiler, resulting in the loss of the first
prize, a handsome fern dish, and concerning which Mrs. Gashwiler had
thought it best to speak her mind? What importance could he attach to
the disclosure of Metta Judson, the Gashwiler hired girl, who chatted
freely during her appearances with food, that Doc Cummins had said
old Grandma Foutz couldn't last out another day; that the Peter
Swansons were sending clear to Chicago for Tilda's trousseau; and that
Jeff Murdock had arrested one of the Giddings boys, but she couldn't
learn if it was Ferd or Gus, for being drunk as a fool and busting up a
bazaar out at the Oak Grove schoolhouse, and the fighting was
something terrible.
Scarcely did he listen to these petty recitals. He ate in silence, and when
he had finished the simple meal he begged to be excused. He begged
this in a lofty, detached, somewhat weary manner, as a man of the
world, excessively bored at the dull chatter but still the fastidious
gentleman, might have begged it, breaking into one of the many
repetitions by his hostess of just what she had said to Mrs. Judge Ellis.
He was again Clifford Armytage, enacting a polished society man
among yokels. He was so impressive, after rising, in his bow to Mrs.
Gashwiler that Amos regarded him with a kindling suspicion.
"Say!" he called, as Merton in the hallway plucked his rakish plush hat
from the mirrored rack. "You remember, now, no more o' that

skylarkin' with them dummies! Them things cost money."
Merton paused. He wished to laugh sarcastically, a laugh of withering
scorn. He wished to reply in polished tones, "Skylarkin'! You poor, dull
clod, what do you know of my ambitions, my ideals? You, with your
petty life devoted to gaining a few paltry dollars!" But he did not say
this, or even register the emotion that would justly accompany such a
subtitle. He merely rejoined, "All right, sir, I'm not going to touch
them," and went quickly out. "Darned old grouch!" he muttered as he
went down the concrete walk to the Gashwiler front gate.
Here he turned to regard the two-story brick house and the square of
lawn with a concrete deer on one side of the walk, balanced by a
concrete deer on the other. Before the gate was the cast-iron effigy of a
small Negro in fantastic uniform, holding an iron ring aloft. The
Gashwiler carriage horse had been tethered to this in the days before
the Gashwiler touring car had been acquired.
"Dwelling of a country storekeeper!" muttered Merton. "That's all you
are!"
This was intended to be scornful. Merton meant that on the
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