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