Henderson daily dispatch., 1940-01-16
CHAPTER FOUR

BAXTER arrived at the advertis.
ing agency several minutes before
Romany. The girl at The desk mo-
toned him to go into the recording
room. He passed through a crowd
of actresses and actors that might
have been a Broadway convention.
Representing every aye and class
of the show business, they stood
around in LITTLE groups complain
ing or Dragging: A great many of
them had been vaudeville headlin-
ers, while others had been we'll
known Broadway leading men and
women or bit players. Most of them
declared they hated Chicago.
Baxter entered the control room
with fast-beating heart. It was a
thrill to see the director Of radio
for the Byrd-Cromwell agency, a
tremendously high-salaried youth
in his late twenties, sitting smok-
ing a cigaret. Things were really
going to start moving at last!
Miller hasn't arrived, l see"
Bax shook hands with Bob Lane.
Miller was the director he'd been
promised for Paradise Is Here"
He was perhaps the only man in
Chicago whom Baxter felt sure
would be able to bring out the spir-
itual quality of his brain child and
make of it the thing of beauty he
wanted it to be.
Lane crushed his cigaret.
Nope, Tree, I'm afraid Stan Mil
Ter is out. Too busy. But Cain Del
acarte here will do swell job, I'm
sure. Have you two metz"
Bax hid his disappointment with
difficulty. A swarthy little man
looked up from a bunch of scripts
and nodded graphically:
How do"
Baxter acknowledged the greet
ing. But before he had time to do
so Delacarte had resumed his
perusal of the scripts. Lane grinned,
motioning for Baxter to sit down.
He did so, miserably, Delacarte, a
large black pencil in his hand, was
crossing out lines and writing in
others. Bax. wincing, asked:
How do you like the show, MIR.
Delacarte? Or have you had a
chance to read it,"
Read it? He'll! I've rewritten
itn
Baxter grew little pale, and
looked to Lane for encourage
ment.
Who" Delacarte asked him sar-
castically, lever told you you could
write dialogue? And why didn't
YOU learn little about business be-
fore you started trying to sell dra-
matte shows"
Bob Lane laughed.
you'll have to get used to Cain,
Tree. He spares no punches"
$50 l see," Bax said quietly.
What have you directed, Mr.. Della
carte? I'm afraid I've never heard
of you before"
.That makes us even" The dark
face cracked open in an unattrac-
tive grin. I've never heard of you,
either"
Gain does couple of shows for
u.s." Lane stepped in. VERY sue
cessful ones, too. The Adventures
of Uncle Kip and Aces Of the
Clouds"
II see." Bax by that time was
feeling a little sick. kid stuff"
Delacarte grew slowly red around
the collar. When he looked up, his
black eyes were definitely unfriend-
ly.
YEAH" he sneered, kid stuff!
And so lousy Pm maxim over seven
hundred bucks a week. So WHAT"
Before Bax could assemble an an
swer. Lane got up. laughing again:
Let's go into the studio a while, |
Tree l think it's getting a little
warm in here"
7 don't get it, Lane" he began. |
Il thought you agreed with me that
Paradise needed someone who
would appreciate"
Lane held up his hand:
Don't blame me. Tree. I'm only
the head of the radio department.
Delacarte spent the weekend out |
at the big boss country place and
! guess Byrd decided his old drink
ing pal. Cain, was having hard
struggle trying to get along on two