“You amaze me,” said the puzzled manager. “If that old codger has succeeded in turning out anything worth while, I certainly shall believe that ‘wonders never cease.’”
“He has got you all fooled. He is a good actor,” declared Ruth bitterly. Then, as Mr. Hammond turned a puzzled frown upon her, she added, “Tell me what you think of the script, Mr. Hammond, before you speak to—er—John, or whatever his name may be.”
“I certainly am curious now,” he declared.
They got back to the place where the director had arranged to “shoot” the sewing circle scene just as everything was all set for it. Mother Paisley dominated the half circle of women about the long table under the trees. Ruth marveled at the types Mr. Hooley had found in the village. And she marveled further that any group of human beings could appear so wooden.
“Oh, Ruth!” murmured Helen, who was not in this scene, but was an interested spectator, “they will surely spoil the picture again. Poor Mr. Hooley! He takes such pains.”
It was like playing a child’s game for most of the members of the Herringport Union congregation. They were selfconscious, and felt that they were in a silly situation. Those who were not too serious of demeanor were giggling like schoolgirls.
Yet everything was ready for the cameras. Mr. Hooley’s keen eye ran over all the group. He waved a hand to the camera men.
“Ready camera—action—go!”
The women remained speechless. They merely looked at each other in a helpless way. It was evident they had forgotten all the instructions the director had given them.
But suddenly into the focus of the cameras ran a barefooted urchin waving a newspaper. This was the Alectrion Company’s smartest “kid” actor and a favorite wherever his tousled head, freckled face, and wide grin appeared on the screen. He plunged right at Mother Paisley and thrust the paper into her hand, while he pointed at a certain place on the front page.