“Be that as it may, I’d like you to write some of the intimate and unusual things that go on in the production of such a picture. Get in all of the thrilling material possible. Get me?”
“I think so,” replied Janet, recalling the vivid hours that had marked the production work on “Kings of the Air” when the company was out in the desert and she had been kidnaped.
“Then take the rest of the day off and try to get some of the material into my hands tomorrow morning. We’ll have it whipped into shape by the studio continuity writers, for this program goes on the air day after tomorrow.”
“I’ll do my best, Mr. Adolphi,” promised Janet, and the director hurried away to give further instructions to others in the company.
Helen looked at Janet admiringly.
“Well, you certainly get yourself into all kinds of work,” she smiled. “Now you’ll have to go back to the hotel room and pound away on a rented typewriter while I go down and see a show in the Music Hall.”
“Oh, don’t do that,” begged Janet, who was anxious to see the interior of the world’s largest theater. “Wait another day until I can go with you. There’ll be plenty for you to see in New York beside the Music Hall.”
“All right,” agreed Helen. “We’ll plan on that for tomorrow afternoon.”
As they left the studio they bumped into a slender, dark-haired girl who was hurrying in.
“Clumsy fools,” Janet heard the other girl murmur as she went on and Janet’s face flushed for it had been as much the other’s fault as their own.