The Moving Picture Girls | Page 6

was just saved from being a "bread-and-butter" girl. That is, she
had wholesomeness, with a round face, and ruddy cheeks--more
damask than red in color--but she also had a rollicking, good-natured
disposition, without being in the least bit tomboyish. She reminded one
of a girl just out of school, eager for a game of tennis or golf.
"Are you busy?" asked the voice on the other side of the door. "I can
call again!"
"No, wait--Russ!" replied Ruth, with an obvious effort. "We had the
chain on. We'll let you in!"
The DeVeres had only known their neighbors across the hall since
coming to the Fenmore Apartment. Yet one could not live near
motherly Mrs. Sarah Dalwood and not get to know her rather intimately,
in a comparatively short time. She was what would have been called, in
the country, "a good neighbor." In New York, with its hurry and scurry,
where people live for years in adjoining rooms and never speak, she
was an unusual type. She knew nearly every one in the big
apartment--which was almost more than the janitor and his wife could
boast.
A widow with two sons, Mrs. Dalwood was in fairly good
circumstances--compared with her neighbors. Her husband had left her
a little sum in life insurance that was well invested, and Russ held a

place as moving picture machine operator in one of the largest of those
theaters. He earned a good salary which made it unnecessary for his
mother to go out to work, or to take any in, and his brother Billy was
kept at school. Billy was twelve, a rather nervous, delicate lad, liked by
everyone.
There was a rattle as the chain fell from the slotted slide on the door,
and Alice opened the portal, to disclose the smiling and yet rather
worried face of Russ. The girls had come to know him well enough to
call him by his first name, and he did the same to them. It might not be
out of place to say that Russ admired Ruth very much.
"I'm awfully sorry about what happened," began Russ. "You see I didn't
mean to shove that fellow so hard. But he was awfully persistent, and I
just lost my temper. I was afraid I'd shoved him downstairs."
"So were we," admitted Ruth, with a smile.
"Did he try to come in here, to escape from you?" asked Alice, with a
frank laugh.
"Indeed he did not," replied Russ. "He caught at your door to save
himself from falling. I guess he thought I was going to hit him; but I
wasn't. I just shoved him away to keep him from coming back into our
rooms again. Mother was a little afraid of him."
"Was he--was he a----" Alice balked at the word "collector."
"He was a fellow who's trying to steal a patent I'm working on!"
exclaimed Russ, rather fiercely. "He's as unscrupulous as they come,
and I didn't want him to get a foothold. So I just sent him about his
business in a way I think he won't forget."
"Oh, are you working on a patent?" cried Ruth. "How nice! What's it
about? Oh, I forgot! Perhaps you can't tell. It's a secret, I suppose. All
patents are."
"Well, it isn't a secret from you folks," returned Russ. "I don't mind

telling you, even though I haven't perfected it yet."
"Especially as you can be sure we girls wouldn't understand the least
thing about it--if it has anything to do with machinery," put in Alice,
laughing.
"Well, it is something about machinery," admitted Russ. "It is
something new to go on moving picture machines, to steady the film as
it moves behind the lens. You've often noticed how jerky the pictures
are at times?" he asked.
"Yes; though we don't go very often," responded Ruth.
"Well, I've made a simple little device that fits on the machine. I
needn't go into all details--to tell you the truth I haven't got 'em all
worked out yet; but I think it will be a good thing, and bring me in
some money.
"I've spoken to Mr. Frank Pertell, manager of the Comet Film
Company, about it. I have done some work for him, you know. He says
it will be a good thing, and, while it may not make me a millionaire, it
will help a lot. So I'm working hard on it."
"But who was this man--what did he have to do with it?" asked Alice.
"He didn't have anything to do with it--but he wanted to. His name is
Simpson Wolley--Simp, he's called for short, though he is not as simple
as his name sounds. He heard about my invention--how, I don't
know--and he's trying to get it away from me."
"Get it away from