Mr. Hammond had told her to use her judgment in all such matters. So when Ruth thought that the story would be stronger and more interesting without too much display of the dwarf’s atrocious ugliness, she said so—always, of course, in a mild and tactful way.
Then one day on the lot when they were getting ready to shoot the last of a series of several scenes, matters came to a climax between Ruth and the actor.
For some time past Rumph had been “hogging” some of Boardman’s best scenes, insisting on retaining the limelight when he should long since have been a victim to the “fade-out.”
Ruth had spoken to him several times about this, and the last time her voice was sharp with annoyance. The scene had been going excellently, and if Rumph had kept to his place would undoubtedly have been one of the best in the series.
As it was he bid fair to spoil all her work and possibly a good many feet of expensive film.
Ruth was more patient and long-suffering than most directors, who often “go up in the air” at the slightest provocation. But when Rumph insolently ignored her instructions again, even her patience gave way beneath the strain.
“Mr. Rumph,” she said, going close to the actor and speaking very quietly, “I would like you to understand that as long as I am director here, you are to do exactly as I say.”
“And if you are to remain director here,” said Joe Rumph with calm insolence, “then I don’t care to act any longer under your direction.”
“Then go!” cried Ruth. “Your resignation is accepted. If you care to, you may leave to-day. Mr. Cameron will settle with you,” and Ruth turned at once to the script she held in her hand.