STATION L-O-V-E

Matamata Record, Volume XIX, Issue 1789, 7 December 1936, Page 3

STATION L-O-V-E

By CRAIG CARROLL.

“It isn’t O.K. and you know it. You’ve got no right. —” ' “No use arguing about it, Biton said calmly. “You say if we work for New Youth we can’t work for you. But they’re going to pay a good deal more than you’re paying. And I told you, we’ve both got to have money. Much as we can get, soon as we can get it. So we’ll just finish; out the week for you, Ad. Don’t even need to pav us. I like you, and I don’t want 'to leave you without a chance to replace the script and the voice.” • “You’ll finish out the week, eh? And then go right on the air Monday for my competitors?” “Not Monday. Thursday. Can't get the rehearsals over in time for Monday. Miss Allison wants to investigate the script more carefully, you see. About Thursday, I think, Maybe Wednesday. Think you can Jbe ready by then, Judy?” “No !” Judy said loudly. “No ! And you know I won’t be ready. Why

He cut in with, “Sorry, Judy, I forgot.. You wanted to go home for a week, didn’t you? That’s right. But we’ll be all right for a week from Monday, then- And that’s, time enough I guess. With a 52-weelc contract,, we can take a week off, can’t we?” ‘ “Fifty-two weeks!” Jenks yelped. “Yes. With a renewal clause for another year. They’re no pikers, over at New Youth. They know Miss Allison is good and they like my scripts and they’re willing to spend, Ad. Can’t blame them. The test you’ve given the script and the voice show® what can be done.” “Elton! Miss Allison!”

“Yes,” Elton answered for both

“I don’t want you to work for those people. I want you to keep on with the Beauty Builder show.” “But Elton said. Nothing more. Except for that eloquent movement of his hands that said so much. “So you just forget about that New Youth show. I’ll meet everything they’ve offered. And top it.” “Fifty-two weeks, Ad?” Elton asked

“Sure. Why not? I like the show and it’s pulling. Why not?” “But you can’t pay it. Too heavy for you, Ad. A big company like New Yoilth could. But you— —” . The little man bristled. “I can pay «ything they can pay. Look up my rating, if you don’t believe me ”

Softly, Elton murmured the question Judy had known was‘coming: “Can you pay Miss Allison 100 dollars a week. Witfi a 52 week contract?” « “Yes. I’ll do better. I’ll throw in a bonus. Two hundred dollars extra, I’ll pay, if Miss Allison stays with us. You hear me, Miss Allison? A hundred dollars a week you get, and 200 dollars extra when you sign the contract. Is that enough?” “That’s satisfactory,” Elton answered for her. “A hundred it is. / And 200 dollars for me.” “Two ”

Copyright.

“Yes,” Elton said, almost sadly. “Two hundred for me. I’m tired of drinking gin, Ad. I want to see if

Scotch tastes the way it ought to taste.”

The little man waved his hands helplessly.

“All right. All right. You win. A hundred for Miss Allison, two hundred for you. Starting Monday. And Miss Allison isn’t to work on any other beauty programme.” “Flavin’s a witness,” Elton said. “■That right. Flavin?"

“Yes,” the advertising man saul, staring at Ellon. “Then we’ll go over lo your office right now and get the contracts signed and sealed,” Elton said crisply. “Here, waiter. Buy a home in fchOcountry with the change. Come along, Judy. You’re a rich woman, now."

Nothing about Elton Day’s manner or his few words as they left Jenlcs' office an hour later said, “Look what I’ve done for you.” Nothing. Yet Judy Allison knew how he felt. She knew, too, that Elton-Day was the most cruelly clever man she had ever known. For, knowing she hated him, he had deliberately set about putting her under an obligation she could hot disown. He had got more money for himself at the same time. He had assured an income for a year to come for himself—and for Judy. And he had forced her, by the act of signing the contract Jenlcs made out, into a partnership with him. She walked along with Day, silent. And he was oddly silent, too. And oddly, he watched Judy when she did not know he was watching. With a new look in his eyes—something almost pitiful. As though he wanted to say things that were not natural to him, words he was not used to.

He tried, finally. “Judy, here’s an orange-drink stand. Let’s have some?" “I’m not thirsty.” “I know. Neither am I, Judy.”

“All right,” Judy said. And the girl behind the counter put two damp paper cups behind them. The throng streamed past on Madison, just outside. People hurrying somewhere, people belonging to Chicago, as Judy belonged now. Because she had a job, a good job, a job better than anybody back home in Hiawatha had. Because for a year now Judy Allison’s voice would go all over the country six mornings every week. The impossible thing had happened. And she was not glad.

CHAPTER 23. “Judy,” Elton Day said, “you think I played a rotten trick on Jenks, don’t you?”... . \ . . .. “I don’t know," Judy replied, leaning against the orange-stand counter. “Well, I didn’t. He’s a chiseler.” “Yes. He gets an act for as little as he possibly can. You’re worth every cent he’s going to pay you, and then some. If nothing else, it’s worth the money to him to be sure you don’t take any other jobs. Because you could get other radio jobs now, Judy.” “How do you know.” “I do know. It’s my business to know. It’s my.job to find out how an act of mine is getting along.”

An act of mine! Judy Allison, working l'or Elton Day. No use clouding it with words or evasions' or excuses. Elton Day is your employer, really; he got you the job with a trick, he got you more money with a trick, and yet you can do nothing but accept it. ; “You don’t like the way I do business, do you, Judy?” “No..’

“Do you think I like it?” I-Iis 1 voice was earnest, honest, for the first time since Judy had met him. “Listen Judy. - I told' you I hate this business. I do. I bate pulling strings and playing politics and being a chiseler like some of the others. But it’s the only \ way I know ,to get what I’ve got to have. I can’t save money, Judy. Never could. Unless I. get more money than I can spend. And now I’m sure of more than I thought I could get. .And Jenks will get value for what he’s paying. Don't ever doubt it, Judy. The show will pull pi'oflts and more profits for him. You mustn’t feel that he’s being cheated. Because he isn’t. He’s used to doing business that way, that’s all. And I had to meet him at his own game. No other way. If I talked to him, just said, “We’re worth more,” he’d laugh at me and at you. I tell you* it’s true, Judy, Every word of it!" “Yes,” she said dully. “I suppose so.” “But you don’t really think so. You think you’re under obligations to me and you don’t want to be.” “Do you blame me?” j “Of course I don’t. You’ve got a right to think anything you like, Judy. There’s plenty wrong with me. Ij know that. But this time I’m on the; level. Honestly.” “Won’t you say something else?” “Yes."

He was actually pleading. Elton Day, the unapproachable, was pleading with a Judy Allison of Hiawatha, to understand things that he—whose job was words—could not put into any but halting, broken phrases. “There’s nothing else to say. Except, ‘Thank you’.” v “And you don’t mean that.’! » “But of course I do.' The money is going to help my family a lot.' And having a job for a year—it’s more than I ever counted on. So, of - course, I must thank you.” ■

“Must!” he said," eloquently, bitterly! “That’s just it. ‘Must!’ Not because you want to. Not beoause you’ve changed a bit in the way you think about me. Just because it’s the thing you ought to do.”

She was silent. Elton, moving restlessly, stared at himself in the long mirror back of the counter, straightened his perfect tie, smoothed his immaculate lapels. He hailed a taxi-cab, with an elegant gesture; he stepped inside, disappeared, and Judy went to Elsie’s office to tell Elsie what had happened. She found Elsie perturbed, almost unpleasant at first. “Thought you were going to call me up.” , “I couldn’t, Elsie. I was busy.” | “Oh. Dick?” “No. I—Look, Elsie.” She produced the oontract. And Elsie, businesslike, knowing, ran through it hurriedly, read It a second time, then whistled, long and low. “Judy! You’re a millionaire! You’re set for life! Here, woman! Shake hands! Dance a Highland fling! Do something, anyhow!” Judy forced a smile. “It is nice, isn’t it?” she said. “Nice!” Elsie mocked her. "Nice! Yeh, and the Grand Canyon’s a nice little thing, too! Nice? Hey—Mike! Tell the boss I’m taking the afternoon off. Got things to do. Got business. Got to go to Africa for the week-end. You hear me? Here Judy, is my hat on straight? Is it? It isn’t? It wouldn’t be. Well, come on, woman I Come on! We’ve got to oelebrate! Gee! A hundred a week 1” It was like that for a half hour, with Elsie talking, laughing, almost shouting; with Judy answering in monosyllables, only once in a while. Until, in the cool depths of the big f motion-picture house, Elsie turned suddenly, whispering, “You’re not tickled a bit 1 What’s wrong with you, anyhow, Judy?”

“Nothing. Oh, nothing.” “Don’t He to me! What’s it all about?” Hesitantly, then more rapidly, Judy poured out the story. How she watched Elton force Jenks into giving her the contract, how she let him make Jenks think she was a party to it, how she said nothing when she should have spoken. “Huh!” said Elsie suddenly. "I see, right now that a movie is no place for me and thou. Come on. Let’s go buy a hat!” “But— —” (To be Continued).