PICTURES, GIRLS AND NONSENSE
"Well, Aunt Jane," said Maud Stanton, when their car was rolling toward
the hotel and the girl had related the remarkable interview in the
office, "what do you think of Ajo now?"
"He is certainly an amazing young man," was the reply. "I cannot in any
way figure out his connection with Goldstein, or his power over the man.
The Continental Film Manufacturing Company is a great corporation, with
headquarters in New York, and Mr. Goldstein is the authorized head and
manager of the concern on the Pacific coast. I understand his salary is
ten thousand a year. On the other hand, young Jones has only been in this
country for a year, coming from an insignificant island somewhere in the
South Seas, where he was born and reared. Much of the time since he
arrived in America he has been an invalid. Aside from this meager
information, no one seems to know anything about him."
"Putting the case that way makes it all the more remarkable," observed
Maud. "A big, experienced, important man, cowed by a mere boy. When
Goldstein first met this callow, sallow youth, he trembled before him.
When the boy enters the office of the great film company he dictates to
the manager, who meekly obeys him. Remember, too, that A. Jones, by his
interference, has caused a direct loss to the company, which Goldstein
will have to explain, as best he may, in his weekly report to the New
York office. A more astonishing state of affairs could not be imagined,
Aunt Jane!"
"The puzzle will solve itself presently," said the lady. "Abnormal
conditions seldom last long."
Maud passed the day in bed, quietly reading a book. Her injury was really
slight and with rest it mended rapidly. Patsy and Beth came in to see her
and in the conversation that ensued the girls were told of the latest
mystery surrounding A. Jones.
"It is surely queer!" admitted Miss Doyle, impressed and thoughtful.
"Uncle John and Arthur were saying this noon, at lunch, that Ajo was a
helpless sort of individual and easily influenced by others--as witness
his caving in to me when I opposed his doctor's treatment. Arthur thinks
he has come to this country to squander what little money his father left
him and that his public career outside the limits of his little island
will be brief. Yet according to your story the boy is no weakling but has
power and knows how to use it."
"He surely laid down the law to Goldstein," said Maud.
"He is very young," remarked Beth, ignoring the fact that she was herself
no older, "and perhaps that is why we attach so much importance to his
actions. A grown-up man is seldom astonishing, however eccentric he may
prove to be. In a boy we expect only boyishness, and young Jones has
interested us because he is unique."
After a little the conversation drifted to motion pictures, for both
Patsy and Beth were eager to learn all about the business details of film
making, which Maud, by reason of her months of experience, was able to
explain to them in a comprehensive manner. Flo came home toward evening,
but had little more to tell them, as the day had passed very quietly at
the "studio." Jones had remained closeted with the manager for a full
hour, and it was remarked that after he had gone away Goldstein was
somewhat subdued and performed his duties less aggressively than usual.
Maud's visitors now left her to dress for dinner, at which meal she was
able to rejoin them, walking with a slight limp but otherwise recovered
from her accident. To their surprise, young Jones appeared as they were
entering the dining room and begged for a seat at their table. Uncle John
at once ordered another place laid at the big round table, which
accommodated the company of nine very nicely.
Ajo sat between Patsy and Maud and although he selected his dishes with
some care he partook of all the courses from soup to dessert.
The morning interview with Goldstein was not mentioned. Ajo inquired
about Maud's hurt but then changed the subject and conversed upon nearly
everything but motion pictures. However, after they had repaired to the
hotel lobby and were seated together in a cosy, informal group, Patsy
broached a project very near to her heart.
"Beth and I," said she, "have decided to build a Children's
Picture Theatre."
"Where?" asked Uncle John, rather startled by the proposition.
"Here, or in Los Angeles," was the reply.
"You see," explained Beth, "there is a crying need for a place where
children may go and see pictures that appeal especially to them and are,
at the same time, quite proper for them to witness. A great educational
field is to be opened by this venture, and Patsy and I would enjoy the
work of creating the first picture theatre, exclusively for children,
ever established in America."
"You may say, 'in the world,'" added Arthur. "I like this idea of yours,
girls, and I hope you will carry it out."
"Oh, they'll carry it out, all right," remarked Uncle John. "I've been
expecting something of this sort, ever since we came here. My girls,
Mr. Jones," he said, turning to the young man, "are always doing some
quaint thing, or indulging in some queer enterprise, for they're a
restless lot. Before Louise married, she was usually in these skirmishes
with fate, but now--"
"Oh, I shall join Patsy and Beth, of course," asserted Louise. "It will
make it easier for all, to divide the expense between us, and I am as
much interested in pictures as they are."
"Perhaps," said Patsy musingly, "we might build two theatres, in
different parts of the city. There are so many children to be amused. And
we intend to make the admission price five cents."
"Have you any idea what it costs to build one of these picture theatres?"
asked Arthur.
"We're not going to build one of 'these' theatres," retorted Patsy. "Many
of the dens I've been in cost scarcely anything, being mere shelters. The
city is strewn with a lot of miserable, stuffy theatres that no one can
enjoy sitting in, even to see a good picture. We have talked this over
and decided to erect a new style of building, roomy and sanitary, with
cushioned seats and plenty of broad aisles. There are one or two of this
class already in Los Angeles, but we want to make our children's theatres
a little better than the best."
"And the expense?"
"Well, it will cost money, of course. But it will be a great delight to
the children--bless their little hearts!"
"This is really a business enterprise," added Beth gravely.
Uncle John chuckled with amusement.
"Have you figured out the profits?" he inquired.
"It really ought to pay, Uncle," declared Patsy, somewhat nettled by this
flaccid reception of her pet scheme. "All the children will insist on
being taken to a place like that, for we shall show just the pictures
they love to see. And, allowing there is no money to be made from the
venture, think of the joy we shall give to innumerable little ones!"
"Go ahead, my dears," said Uncle John, smiling approval. "And, if you
girls find you haven't enough money to carry out your plans, come to me."
"Oh, thank you, Uncle!" exclaimed Beth. "But I feel sure we can manage
the cost ourselves. We will build one of the theatres first, and if that
is a success we will build others."
"But about those films, made especially for children," remarked Arthur.
"Where will you get them?"
"Why, there are lots of firms making films," replied Patsy. "We can
select from all that are made the ones most suitable for our purpose."
"I fear you cannot do that," said Mrs. Montrose, who had listened with
wonder to this conversation. "There are three combinations, or 'trusts,'
among the film makers, which are known as the Licensed, the Mutual and
the Independents. If you purchase from one of these trusts, you cannot
get films from the others, for that is their edict. Therefore you will
have only about one-third of the films made to select from."
"I thought money would buy anything--in the way of merchandise," said
Louise, half laughing and half indignant.
"Not from these film dictators," was the reply.
"They all make a few children's pictures," announced Maud Stanton. "Even
the Continental turns out one occasionally. But there are not nearly
enough, taken all together, to supply an exclusive children's theatre."
"Then we will have some made," declared Patsy. "We will order some fairy
tales, such as the children like. They would be splendid in motion
pictures."
"Some have already been made and exhibited," said Mrs. Montrose. "The
various manufacturers have made films of the fairy tales of Hans
Andersen, Frank Baum, Lewis Carroll and other well-known writers."
"And were they successful?"
"Quite so, I believe; but such films are seldom put out except at
holiday time."
"I think, Beth," said Patsy to her cousin, in a businesslike tone, "that
we must organize a company and make our own films. Then we can get
exactly what we want."
"Oh, yes!" replied Beth, delighted with the suggestion. "And let us get
Maud and Flo to act in our pictures. Won't it be exciting?"
"Pardon me, young ladies," said A. Jones, speaking for the first time
since this subject had been broached. "Would it not be wise to consider
the expense of making films, before you undertake it?"
Patsy looked at him inquiringly.
"Do you know what the things cost?" she asked.
"I've some idea," said he. "Feature films of fairy tales, such as you
propose, cost at least two thousand dollars each to produce. You would
need about three for each performance, and you will have to change your
programmes at least once a week. That would mean an outlay of not less
than six thousand dollars a week, which is doubtless more money than your
five-cent theatre could take in."
This argument staggered the girls for a moment. Then Beth asked: "How do
the ordinary theatres manage?"
"The ordinary theatre simply rents its pictures, paying about three
hundred dollars a week for the service. There is a 'middleman,' called
the 'Exchange,' whose business is to buy the films from the makers and
rent them to the theatres. He pays a big price for a film, but is able
to rent it to dozens of theatres, by turns, and by this method he not
only gets back the money he has expended but makes a liberal profit."
"Well," said Patsy, not to be baffled, "we could sell several copies of
our films to these middlemen, and so reduce the expense of making them
for our use."
"The middleman won't buy them," asserted Jones. "He is the thrall of one
or the other of the trusts, and buys only trust pictures."
"I see," said Uncle John, catching the idea; "it's a scheme to destroy
competition."
"Exactly," replied young Jones.
"What does the Continental do, Maud?" asked Patsy.
"I don't know," answered the girl; "but perhaps Aunt Jane can tell you."
"I believe the Continental is a sort of trust within itself," explained
Mrs. Montrose. "Since we have been connected with the company I have
learned more or less of its methods. It employs a dozen or so producing
companies and makes three or four pictures every week. The concern has
its own Exchange, or middleman, who rents only Continental films to the
theatres that patronize him."
"Well, we might do the same thing," proposed Patsy, who was loath to
abandon her plan.
"You might, if you have the capital," assented Mrs. Montrose. "The
Continental is an immense corporation, and I am told it has more than a
million dollars invested."
"Two millions," said A. Jones.
The girls were silent a while, seriously considering this startling
assertion. They had, between them, considerable money, but they realized
they could not enter a field that required such an enormous investment as
film making.
"I suppose," said Beth regretfully, "we shall have to give up
making films."
"Then where are we to get the proper pictures for our theatre?"
demanded Patsy.
"It is quite evident we _can't_ get them," said Louise. "Therefore we may
be obliged to abandon the theatre proposition."
Another silence, still more grave. Uncle John was discreet enough to say
nothing. The Stantons and Mrs. Montrose felt it was not their affair.
Arthur Weldon was slyly enjoying the chagrin visible upon the faces of
Mr. Merrick's three pretty nieces.
As for A. Jones, he was industriously figuring upon the back of an
envelope with a stubby bit of pencil.