THE SUN WORSHIPERS
"Them movin' picture people are hoppin' about The Beaches like
sandpipers," observed Cap'n Amazon at the breakfast table. "And I
opine they air pretty average useless, too. They were hurrahin' around
all day yest'day while you was out fishin'. Want to take a picture of
Abe's old store here. Dunno what to do about it."
Louise was too much disturbed by her discoveries of overnight to give
much attention to this subject.
"It's Abe's store, you see," went on Cap'n Amazon. "Dunno how he'd
feel 'bout havin' it took in a picture and showed all over the country.
It needs a coat o' paint hi-mighty bad. Ought to be fixed up some
'fore havin' its picture took--don't ye think so, Niece Louise?"
The girl awoke to the matter sufficiently to advise him:
"The lack of paint will not show in the picture, Uncle Amazon. And I
suppose they want the store for a location just because it is
weather-beaten and old-fashioned."
"I want to know! Well, now, if I was in the photograftin' business,
seems t' me I'd pick out the nice-lookin' places to make pictures of.
I knowed a feller once that made a business of takin' photografts in
furin' parts. He sailed with me when I was master of the _Blue
Sparrow_--clipper built she was, an' a spankin' fine craft. We----"
"Oh, Uncle Amazon!" Louise cried, rising from, the table suddenly,
"you'll have to excuse me. I--I forgot something upstairs. Yes--I've
finished my breakfast. Betty can clear off."
She fairly ran away from the table. It seemed to her as though she
could not sit and listen to another of his preposterous stories. It
would be on the tip of her tongue to declare her disbelief in his
accuracy. How and where he had gained access to Cap'n Abe's store of
nautical romances she could not imagine; but she was convinced that
many, if not all, of his supposedly personal adventures were entirely
fictitious in so far as his own part in them was concerned.
She put on her hat and went out of the back door in order to escape
further intercourse with Cap'n Amazon for the present. On the shore
she found the spot below the Bozewell bungalow a busy scene. This was
a perfect day for "the sun worshipers," as somebody has dubbed motion
picture people. Director Anscomb was evidently planning to secure
several scenes and the entire company was on hand.
Louise saw that there were a number of spectators besides herself--some
from the town, but mostly young folk from the cottages along The
Beaches.
Lawford Tapp was present, and she waved her hand to him, yet preserving
an air of merely good comradeship. She was glad that he did not know
that it was she who had leaped to his rescue the day before.
Considering the nature of the feeling she had for him, into the
knowledge of which his peril had surprised her, the girl could not
endure any intimate conversation with Lawford. Not just then, at least.
Tapp was in the midst of a group of girls, and she remarked his ease of
manner. She did not wonder at it, for he was a gentleman by instinct
no matter what his social level might be. Three of the girls were
those Louise Grayling believed to be daughters of Lawford's employer.
She saw that he was breaking away from the group with the intention of
coming to her. L'Enfant Terrible said something to him and laughed
shrilly. She saw Lawford's cheek redden.
So Louise welcomed the approach of Mr. Bane, who chanced at the moment
to be idle.
"Now you will see us grinding them out, Miss Grayling," the actor said.
Louise broke into a series of questions regarding the taking of the
pictures. Her evident interest in the big leading man halted Lawford's
approach. Besides, Miss Louder, who had evidently been introduced to
the Taffy King's son, attached herself to him.
She was a pretty girl despite the layers of grease paint necessary to
accentuate the lights and shadows of her piquant face. Her manner with
men was free without being bold. With a big parasol over her shoulder,
she adapted her step to Lawford's and they strolled nearer.
Bane was speaking of the script he had previously mentioned as
containing a part eminently fitted for Louise. As Lawford and Miss
Louder passed he said:
"I am sure you can do well in that part, Miss Grayling. It is exactly
your style."
Had Lawford any previous reason for doubting Louise Grayling's
connection with the moving picture industry this overheard remark would
have lulled such a doubt to sleep.
The young man realized well enough that Louise was a very different
girl from the blithe young woman at his side. But how could he make I.
Tapp see it?
Money was not everything in the world; Lawford Tapp was far from
thinking it was. He had always considered it of much less importance
than the things one could exchange it for.
However, never having felt the necessity for working for mere pelf, and
being untrained for any form of industry whatsoever, his father's
threat of disowning him loomed a serious menace to the young man.
Not for himself did Lawford fear. He felt warm blood in his veins,
vigor in his muscles, a keen edge to his nerves. He could
work--preferably with his hands. He realized quite fully his
limitation of brain power.
But what right had he to ask any girl to share his lot--especially a
girl like Louise Grayling, who he supposed won a sufficient livelihood
in a profession the emoluments of which must be far greater than those
of any trade he might seek to follow?
He saw now that after his somewhat desultory college course, his months
of loafing about on sea and shore had actually unfitted him for
concentration upon any ordinary work. And he was not sanguine enough
to expect an extraordinary situation to come his way.
Then, too, the young man realized that Louise Grayling had not given
him the least encouragement to lead him to believe that she thought of
him at all. At this moment her preference for Bane's society seemed
marked. Already Cecile had rasped Lawford regarding the leading man's
attentions to Louise.
Lawford could not face the taunting glances of Marian and Prue. They
had come down to the beach on this particular morning he felt sure to
comment--and not kindly--upon Louise Grayling. He hoped that she was
not included in the director's plans for the day, and he was glad to
see that she had no make-up on, as had these other young women.
So he strolled on grimly with Miss Louder, who would not be called for
work for an hour. But the young man heard little of her chatter.
The tide was at the ebb and the two walked on at the edge of the
splashing surf, where the strand was almost as firm as a cement walk.
The curve of the beach took them toward the lighthouse and here,
approaching with bucket and clam hoe along the flats, was the very
lightkeeper who had watched the _Merry Andrew_ and her crew the day,
before when Lawford met with his accident.
"There ye be, Mr. Lawford," crowed the man, "as chipper as a sandpiper.
But I swanny, I didn't ever expect t' hail ye again this side o'
Jordan, one spell yest'day."
"You had your glass on us, did you?" Lawford said languidly.
"I did, young man--I did. An' when that bobbin' skiff walloped ye on
the side of the head I never 'spected t' see you come up again. If it
hadn't been for this little lady who------Shucks, now! This ain't her
'tall, is it?"
"Oh, Mr. Tapp, were you in a boating accident yesterday?" cried Miss
Louder.
"I was overboard--yes," responded Lawford, but rather blankly, for he
was startled by the lightkeeper's statement. "What do you mean,
Jonas?" to the lightkeeper. "Didn't Betty Gallup haul me inboard?"
"Bet Gallup--nawthin'!" exploded Jonas with disgust. "She handled that
sloop o' yourn all right. I give her credit for that. But 'twas that
there gal stayin' at Cap'n Abe's. Ye had her out with ye, eh?"
"Miss Grayling? Certainly."
"She's some gal, even if she is city bred," was the lightkeeper's
enthusiastic observation. "An' quick! My soul! Ye'd ought to seen
her kick off her skirt an' shoes an' dive after ye! I swanny, she was
a sight!"
"I should think she would have been!" gasped Miss Louder with some
scorn. "Goodness me, she must be a regular stunt actress!" and she
laughed shrilly.
But Lawford gave her small attention. "Jonas, do you mean that?" he
asked. "I thought it was Betty who saved me. Why, dad said this
morning he was going to send the old woman a check. He doesn't much
approve of me," and the heir of the Taffy King smiled rather grimly,
"but as I'm the last Tapp----"
"He's glad ye didn't git done for _com_-pletely, heh?" suggested Jonas,
and giggled. "I wouldn't for a minute stand in the way of Bet Gallup's
gittin' what's due her. She did pick ye both up, Lawford. But, land
sakes! ye'd been six fathoms down, all right, if it hadn't been for
that gal at Cap'n Abe's."
"I--I had no idea of it. I never even thanked her," muttered Lawford.
"What can she think of me?"
But not even Miss Louder heard this. She realized, however, that the
young man who she had been told was "the greatest catch at The Beaches"
was much distrait and that her conversation seemed not to interest him
at all.
They went back toward the scene of the film activities. It was the
hour of the usual promenade on the sands. Everybody in the summer
colony appeared on the beach while the walking along the water's edge
was fine. This promenade hour was even more popular than the bathing
hour which was, of, course, at high tide.
Groups of women, young and old, strolled under gay parasols, or camped
on the sands to chat. Brilliantly striped marquees were set up below
some of the cottages, in which tea and other refreshments were served.
The younger people fluttered about, talking and laughing, much like a
flock of Mother Carey's chickens before a storm.
There were several wagons over from the Haven, in which the small-fry
summer visitors arrived and joined their more aristocratic neighbors.
The wagons stopped upon the Shell Road and the passengers climbed down
to the beach between two of the larger cottages.
The people at The Beaches had tried on several occasions to inclose the
stretch of shore below their summer homes, and to make it a private
beach. But even the most acquisitive of the town councilmen (and there
were several of the fraternity of the Itching Palm in the council)
dared not establish such a precedent. The right of the public to the
shore at tide-water could not safely be ignored in a community of
fishermen and clam diggers.
So the shore on this morning had become a gay scene, with the interest
centering on the open air studio of the film company. Lawford saw
Louise walking on alone along the edge of the water. Bane had been
called into conference by the director.
Lawford could not well hasten his steps and desert Miss Louder, but he
desired strongly to do so. And ere the film actress lingeringly left
him to rejoin her company, Louise was some distance in advance.
His sisters were near her. Lawford could see them look at her most
superciliously, and the saucy Cecile said something that made Prue
laugh aloud.
Just beyond the Tapp girls was approaching a group of women and men.
Lawford recognized them as the Perritons and their friends. Lawford
had no particular interest in the summer crowd himself; but he knew the
Perritons were influential people in the social world.
With them was a majestic person the young man had never seen before.
Undoubtedly the "Lady from Poughkeepsie." Her pink countenance and
beautifully dressed gray hair showed to excellent advantage under the
black and white parasol she carried.
She stepped eagerly before the party, calling:
"Louise!"
Louise Grayling raised her head and waved a welcoming hand.
"What brings you forth so early in the morning, auntie?" she asked, her
voice ringing clearly across the sands.
There were at least four dumfounded spectators of this meeting, and
they were all named Tapp.
Lawford stood rooted to the sands, feeling quite as though the universe
had fallen into chaos. It was only L'Enfant Terrible who found speech.
"Oh, my!" she cried. "What a mistake! The movie queen turns out to be
some pumpkins!"