But the director shook his head. "This is the girls' night," he smiled,
shoving Helen toward the microphone.
"All I can say," gasped Helen, "is that I'm tremendously happy to be
here."
"Thank you," said the announcer. "And now, Miss Hardy, please."
"I like all of the smiles," said Janet simply, and a burst of applause
came back from the crowd.
"Well done," whispered Henry Thorne and they started down the long walk
past the sea of faces.
Janet felt supremely confident, perhaps it was just knowing that her gown
and accessories were perfection, and more than one compliment on her
costume came from the packed masses.
In the grand foyer there were film stars on every hand, some of them
stopping for a moment to talk, and as Helen's father introduced the girls
to all of these, Janet thought she detected several frankly unfriendly
stares from some of the actresses, who seemed to be little if any older
than they were.
Then the picture started. Actually Janet saw very little of it. She was
too busy drinking in the beauty of the theater and straining to catch
glimpses of stars who had arrived late.
When they left the theater, various groups congregated in the foyer for
brief visits and Janet saw a tubby little man, looking ill at ease in his
dinner suit and mopping his bald head, struggling to reach them. He kept
his eyes quite frankly on Janet and Helen as he neared them, but there
was nothing offensive in his stare. He grabbed Henry Thorne's arm.
"Say, Henry, are these the girls?" he demanded.
"Hello, Billy. Sure. I want you to meet my daughter, Helen, and Janet
Hardy."
"Girls," he explained, "you want to be nice to this scamp. He's in charge
of the western unit and it will be his decision on whether you get into
the cast. In other words, meet Billy Fenstow."
"None other and none such," grinned the affable little director. "Why
didn't you tell me you had a couple of stars in tow?" he chided Helen's
father.
"Are you willing to take a chance on them and promise them parts right
now?"
The creator of western pictures looked a little surprised. "Well maybe
not for sure. Tell you what. I'm going home and make some changes in my
script. I'll build up some stronger parts for the girls. Can they act?"
"Billy, I don't know. I saw them one night when I thought they could, but
you'll have to find out for yourself. Now I'm going to take them home and
see that they get some sleep or they won't be able to act."
"I'm glad I met you tonight," said Billy earnestly. "See you in the
morning," as Helen and Janet moved toward the car.
He watched them through shrewd eyes, and if Janet could have turned
around she would have noticed that Billy Fenstow was looking at her in
particular.
"I think she'll do," whispered the little director. "I think she's got
just what I want for the new pix. Gosh, I wish this was morning." He
jammed on his soft, black hat and went out in search of a taxi.
_Chapter XXI_
SCREEN TESTS
Despite the excitement of the premiere, Janet and Helen were up early.
Mrs. Thorne, tired from the trip, decided to remain in bed until later
and Helen's father had already gone to the studio, but not before leaving
a note directing them on where to find Billy Fenstow.
Helen scanned a morning paper for an account of the premiere.
"Here's a paragraph about us," she exclaimed. "Listen."
"I am," said Janet.
"Two of the most stunningly gowned girls seen at the Queen's Court last
night were Helen Thorne, daughter of Director Henry Thorne, and Janet
Hardy, a friend from the midwest. It is rumored their gowns were special
creations of Adoree. Both girls are to get film tests."
"I must clip the picture in last night's paper and the story this morning
and send them to dad and mother," said Janet.
While Janet clipped out the items she wanted, Helen telephoned for a taxi
and they were soon speeding toward the studio.
The driver looked at them a little suspiciously as he slowed down at the
main gate of the studio. Evidently he had seen too many girls like Janet
and Helen get turned away, but Helen produced a note from her father
which gained them instant admission. They paid the cab driver and a boy
was assigned to direct them to Billy Fenstow's office.
They found the director of the westerns at an office well to the back of
the lot and he greeted them warmly.
"We might just as well make a test the first thing," he said. "I've got a
camera crew over on stage nine where there's an old interior that hasn't
been struck. You girls any lines you can go through?"
"Only from our senior play," confessed Helen.