irst to reach the big stage。 The cabaret of yesterday had overnight been transformed into a palatial gambling hell。 Along the sides of the room and at its centre were tables equipped for strange games of chance which only his picture knowledge enabled him to recognize。 He might tarry at these tables； he thought； but he must remember to look bored in the near presence of Henshaw。 The Spanish girl of yesterday appeared and he greeted her warmly。 〃I got some cigarettes this time；〃 he said； 〃so let me pay you back all those I smoked of yours yesterday。〃 Together they filled the golden case that hung from her girdle。
〃It's swell； all right；〃 said the girl； gazing about the vast room now filling with richly clad gamblers。
〃But I thought it was all over except the tenement…house scenes where Vera Vanderpool has gone to relieve the poor；〃 he said。
The girl explained。 〃This scene comes before the one we did yesterday。 It's where the rich old boy first sees Vera playing roulette； and she loses a lot of money and is going to leave her string of pearls； but he says it's a mere trifle and let him pay her gambling losses； so in a weak moment she does； and that's how he starts to get her into his power。 You'll see how it works out。 Say； they spent some money on this set； all right。〃
It was indeed a rich set； as the girl had said。 It seemed to Merton Gill that it would be called on the screen 〃One of those Plague Spots that Eat like a Cancer at the Heart of New York。〃 He lighted a cigarette and leaned nonchalantly against a pillar to smile a tired little smile at the pleasure…mad victims of this life who were now grouping around the roulette and faro tables。 He must try for his jaded look。
〃Some swell shack！〃 The speaker was back of him； but he knew her for the Montague girl； and was instantly enabled to increase the blighted look for which he had been trying。 〃One natty little hovel； I'll tell the world；〃 the girl continued。 〃Say； this puts it all over the Grand Central station； don't it？ Must be right smack at the corner of Broadway and Fifth Avenue。 Well； start the little ball rolling； so I can make a killing。〃 He turned his head slightly and saw her dance off to one of the roulette tables； accompanied by the middle…aged fop who had been her companion yesterday。
Henshaw and his assistant now appeared and began grouping the players at the various tables。 Merton Gill remained leaning wearily against his massive pillar； trying to appear blase under the chatter of the Spanish girl。 The groups were arranged to the liking of Henshaw； though only after many trials。 The roulette ball was twirled and the lively rattle of chips could be heard。 Scanning his scene； he noted Merton and his companion。
〃Oh； there you are； you two。 Sister； you go and stand back of that crowd around the faro table。 Keep craning to look over their shoulders； and give us your side view。 I want to use this man alone。 Here。〃 He led Merton to a round table on which were a deck of cards and some neatly stacked chips。 〃Sit here； facing the camera。 Keep one hand on the cards； sort of toying with 'em； see what I mean？〃
He scattered the piled chips loosely about the table； and called to a black waiter： 〃Here； George； put one of those wine glasses on his left。〃
The wine glass was placed。 〃Now kind of slump down in your chair； like you saw the hollowness of it allsee what I mean？〃
Merton Gill thought he saw。 He exhaled smoke； toyed contemptuously with the cards at his right hand and； with a gesture of repulsion； pushed the wine glass farther away。 He saw the hollowness of it all。 The spirit of wine sang in his glass but to deaf ears。 Chance could no longer entice him。 It might again have been suspected that cigarettes were ceasing to allure。
〃Good work！ Keep it up；〃 said Henshaw and went back to his cameras。
The lights jarred on； desperate gaming was filmed。 〃More life at the roulette tables；〃 megaphoned Henshaw。 〃Crowd closer around that left…hand faro table。 You're playing for big stakes。〃 The gaming became more feverish。 The mad light of pleasure was in every eye； yet one felt that the blight of Broadway was real。
The camera was wheeled forward and Merton Gill joyously quit smoking while Henshaw secured flashes of various groups； chiefly of losers who were seeing the hollowness of it all。 He did not； however； disdain a bit of comedy。
〃Miss Montague。〃
〃Yes； Mr。 Henshaw。〃 The Montague girl paused in the act of sprinkling chips over a roulette lay…out。
〃Your escort has lost all his chips and you've lost all he bought for you〃
The girl and her escort passed to other players the chips before them； and waited。
〃Your escort takes out his wallet； shows it to you empty； and shrugs his shoulders。 You shrug； too； but turn your back on him； facing the camera； and take some bills out of your stockingsee what I mean？ Give her some bills； someone。〃
〃Never mind； Mr。 Henshaw； I already got some there。〃 The pantomime was done； the girl turned； stooped； withdrew flattened bills from one of the salmon…pink stockings and flourished them at her escort who achieved a transition from gloom to joy。 Merton Gill； observing this shameless procedure； plumbed the nether depths of disgust for Broadway's night life。
The camera was now wheeled toward him and he wearily lighted another cigarette。 〃Get a flash of this chap；〃 Henshaw was saying。 The subject leaned forward in his chair； gazing with cynical eyes at the fevered throng。 Wine； women； song； all had palled。 Gambling had no charmhe looked with disrelish at the cigarette he had but just lighted。
〃All right； Paul； that's good。 Now get that bunch over at the crap table。〃
Merton Gill lost no time in relinquishing his cigarette。 He dropped it into the wine glass which became a symbol of Broadway's dead…sea fruit。 Thereafter he smoked only when he was in the picture。 He felt that he was becoming screen wise。 And Henshaw had remembered him。 The cast of The Blight of Broadway might not be jewelled with his name； but his work would stand out。 He had given the best that was in him。
He watched the entrance of Muriel Mercer； maddest of all the mad throng； accompanied by the two young men and the girl who was not so beautiful。 He watched her lose steadily； and saw her string of pearls saved by the elderly scoundrel who had long watched the beautiful girl as only the Wolf of Wall Street could watch one so fair。 He saw her leave upon his arm； perhaps for further unwholesome adventure along Broadway。 The lights were out； the revelry done。
Merton Gill beyond a doubt preferred Western stuff； some heart… gripping tale of the open spaces； or perhaps of the frozen north； where he could be the hard…riding； straight…shooting； two…fisted wonder…man； and not have to smoke so many cigarettesonly one now and then； which he would roll himself and toss away after a few puffs。 Still； he had shown above the mob of extra people； he thought。 Henshaw had noticed him。 He was coming on。
The Montague girl hailed him as he left the set。 〃Hullo； old trouper。 I caught you actin' again to…day； right out before the white folks。 Well； so far so good。 But say； I'm glad all that roulette and stuff was for the up…and…down stage and not on the level。 I'd certainly have lost everything but my make…up。 So long； Kid！〃 She danced off to join a group of other women who were leaving。 He felt a kindly pity for the child。 There could be little future in this difficult art for one who took it so lightly； who talked so frankly to strangers without being introduced。
At luncheon in the cafeteria he waited a long time in the hope of encountering Henshaw； who would perhaps command his further services in the cause of creative screen art。 He meant to be animated at this meeting； to show the director that he could be something more than an actor who had probed the shams of Broadway。 But he lingered in vain。 He thought Henshaw would perhaps be doing without food in order to work on the scenario for Robinson Crusoe； Junior。
He again stopped to thank his friend； the casting director； for securing him his first chance。 She accepted his thanks smilingly； and asked him to drop around often。 〃Mind； you don't forget our number；〃 she said。
He was on the point of making her understand once for all that he would not forget the number； that he would never forget Gashwiler's address； that he had been coming to this studio too often to forget its location。 But someone engaged her at the window； so he was obliged to go on without enlightening the woman。 She seemed to be curiously dense。
CHAPTER VII
〃NOTHING TO…DAY； DEAR！〃
The savings had been opportunely replenished。 In two days he had accumulated a sum for which； back in Simsbury； he would have had to toil a week。 Yet there was to be said in favour of the Simsbury position that it steadily endured。 Each week brought its fifteen dollars； pittance though it might be； while the art of the silver screen was capricious in its rewards； not to say jumpy。 Never； for weeks at a stretch； had Gashwiler said with a tired smile； 〃Nothing to…daysorry！〃 He might have been a grouch and given to unreasonable nagging； but with him there was always a very definite something to…day which he would specify； in short w