and walked down a long corridor to Studio A, the largest and most costly
of all of the broadcasting rooms of the World Company. It was like a
little theater, with sloping seats and a stage upon which the performers
worked before the microphone. At the back was a large orchestra, while
up to the front of the stage the famous crooner was singing into a
"mike."
"Why, he doesn't look at all like I thought he would," exclaimed Helen
as they peered through the plate glass windows which flanked one wall of
the studio. "He's much older."
"Many of us are disillusioned about our heroes and heroines," said Curt
quietly. "Let's eat. I'd like a steak."
"Sounds good to me," agreed Janet, and even Helen was willing to leave
the studio after another minute or two of gazing at the crooner.
They ate in a small but attractive restaurant off Sixth Avenue and after
a leisurely meal Curt hurried away to keep an appointment and Janet and
Helen, though tired from the long day's grind of rehearsals, strolled
over to Fifth Avenue to look into shop windows. After half an hour on
the avenue, they started back to their Times Square hotel, heading west
on one of New York's dark and little-frequented cross streets.
They were halfway down the long, dimly lit block when Helen seized
Janet's arm.
"Someone's following us!" she whispered.
Chapter Twenty-two
SHADOWED!
Despite Helen's whisper of warning, Janet never missed a stride. If
anything, she quickened her pace.
"Keep up with me," she replied, "and don't look around."
From somewhere behind Janet could hear steady footfalls that quickened
as they walked faster.
"Are you sure someone is following us?" asked Janet.
"Positive," replied Helen. "There was someone back of us on the avenue
and he turned onto this street right after we did."
"But it must be coincidence," insisted Janet.
"But remember what Curt said about our knowing too much of the
mysterious events that went on during the last days of the filming of
'Kings of the Air,'" said Helen. "He warned us to watch out."
There was no answer to that for Curt had warned them and Janet was glad
that they were near the bright lights of Broadway. She felt safer now.
As the noise of that great artery of traffic deepened, they slowed their
pace and Janet turned and looked around.
There was no one on the street behind them. She grasped Helen's arm and
both girls stopped.
"There's no one following us," smiled Janet. "It was just imagination."
"It wasn't imagination and you know it," declared Helen. "Whoever it was
could easily have slipped into a doorway. Maybe he's watching us this
very moment."
Janet felt a shiver of nervousness race along her spine. It was not
pleasant to think of being shadowed, especially in New York where there
were so many people and so few friends.
They turned into Times Square and entered the lobby of their hotel. At
the desk they inquired for mail and each received letters from home.
Once up in the privacy of their rooms, they undressed, slipped into
comfortable pajamas and dressing gowns, and read their letters. There
was little actual news from Clarion, but just hearing from their fathers
and mothers was nice.
"Dad is anxious to hear the first part of the program," said Helen as
she finished her letter. "He says they'll all be over at our house
grouped around the radio when we go on."
"Nervous about it?" asked Janet.
"Not particularly about the program, but there's something about the
whole thing that has me uncertain. The company seems to be on edge as
though there was some danger hanging over the heads of everyone."
"Perhaps talk about the trouble on the coast has reached them,"
suggested Janet.
"That may be. But I'm so anxious for the program to be a success. This
picture has meant so much to Dad; it's the air epic that he has wanted
to do for years. If it goes over in a big way, the Ace Company will
renew his contract for a substantial time and give him a big increase in
salary."
Shortly after that they retired and both girls slept soundly.
Next day at the studio the pressure was on again and Director Adolphi
whipped them through the rehearsals at a terrific pace. Several changes
in script were necessary and the director sent a page to the scenario
department on the run. He returned in a few minutes with Jim Hill, the
writer who had handled the continuity for the radio play.
"Listen, Jim," he snapped. "This sequence is punk. It will fall flat on
the air and too much money is being spent on this program. Get some
punch into this or I'll see that another writer gets the job."
Jim Hill was tall, lean and pleasant, with dark eyes that shot back
sparks at the director's criticism.
"You okayed this script once," he reminded Adolphi, "but I'll see what I
can do about it."
Dark, pretty Rachel Nesbit stepped forward.
"I'm pretty good at that sort of thing," she declared, flashing a
winning smile at Jim Hill. "Perhaps I could help on the rewriting."
The continuity writer looked at her glumly.
"Your stuff is all right for lighter things, but this is straight action
drama," he said shaking his head.
"But I can at least try," insisted Rachel, and the worried continuity
writer finally acceded to her insistent requests. He left the studio
with Rachel accompanying him.
Janet turned to Curt Newsom.
"I thought all of the work on this script was being handled with the
utmost precaution and that no one outside was to do anything on it?"
"I guess that's right, but Rachel can hardly be called an outsider since
she belongs to the studio's stock company."
"But she sells some of her radio skits free lance," insisted Janet.
"That's right," agreed Curt. "I hadn't thought of that."
He hastened over to Director Adolphi.
"No one with any outside contacts is supposed to work on this script or
in the company," he told the director.
"That's right," replied Mr. Adolphi. "There's an iron-clad contract with
the Ace Motion Picture Corporation to that effect."
"Then you'd better get Rachel back here. She'll read the rest of the
script and know what the final broadcast will be."
"Oh, but Rachel's all right. Of course she does a little free lance
stuff, but she can be depended upon."
"I'm not arguing that point," said Curt firmly. "I'm just telling you to
get Rachel back here unless you want a violation of your contract
reported to the Ace Company."
"I didn't think you'd stoop to such a dirty trick," sneered the radio
director.
"You don't even need to think," snapped Curt, his eyes flashing. "You
just live up to the agreements of that contract and you'll have no more
trouble."
With his temper considerably ruffled, Mr. Adolphi left the studio and
other members of the company stared wide-eyed at the husky cowboy star
for most of them held their director in awe, but Curt had spoken firmly
and there had been nothing else for Adolphi to do unless he violated the
contract.
He returned to the studio in less than five minutes with Rachel Nesbit
at his heels. The minute she entered the room, she rushed toward Janet,
her hands clenched and her eyes snapping sparks of anger.
"You're responsible for this insult," she stormed at Janet. "I'd like to
step on you."
"Oh, calm down, Rachel," said the director. "It was this skinny cowboy
who started the trouble."
The radio actress and continuity writer whirled toward Curt Newsom.
"Go ahead and step on me," he grinned, and a titter of giggles ran
through the rest of the company.
Rachel's dark cheeks flamed anew with anger, but she kept her tongue and
turned away in silence.
The rehearsal continued. They were getting well along in the production
and Janet felt that it was going smoothly. It was a condensed version of
the real story of "Kings of the Air" and so to Janet and Helen it was
familiar material.
Promptly at noon the director stopped the rehearsal.
"Half an hour for lunch," he announced and the company scattered at
once.
Janet and Helen walked down the long corridor to the reception room
where a hurrying figure almost bumped into them.
It was Jim Hill, the continuity writer. He stopped suddenly and his face
lighted up as he recognized them.
"Just the girls I'm looking for!" he exclaimed. "Lunch time?"
Janet nodded.
"Then have lunch with me," and before they could remonstrate, he hurried
them toward the elevator and they dropped downward with a suddenness
that always unnerved Janet.
Chapter Twenty-three
JANET PINCH HITS
Janet and Helen found that Jim Hill was extremely pleasant and likeable,
but he appeared to be laboring under some severe nervous strain and
Janet noticed that his hands shook when he picked up a glass of milk.
"This script for your broadcast has about got me down," he confessed.
"I've got to keep lots of punch in the action and yet I can't give away
the actual plot of the film. On top of that old Adolphi is a regular
crab and it doesn't seem like anything will suit him. This whole show of
yours has to be okayed Saturday night by the Ace film people and if they
don't like it they can cancel out and give it to another company."
"Is there any danger of that?" asked Janet.
"I'll say there is. This is a juicy contract and two other chains would
like to get it on their networks. Believe me, there is some intense
rivalry in getting big contracts like this. Why the Acme and the Sky
High chains would be willing to pay a large sum just to see us fizzle
the rehearsal Saturday night."
Janet was silent for a time. She had sensed the tension in the studio
without knowing exactly what was behind it. Now she knew what was wrong.
Jim Hill was speaking again.
"Both of you girls are from the original film company on the coast,
aren't you?" he asked.
Helen nodded in agreement.
"Then perhaps you would have some suggestions that might help me out of
this tangle," suggested the continuity writer.
"Mr. Adolphi suggested that several days ago and I worked one whole
afternoon on it, but someone stole the manuscript I had finished out of
my room," explained Janet.
Jim whistled softly to himself.
"So that's how it stands." Janet and Helen weren't sure whether he was
talking to them or to himself.
The continuity writer pushed back his chair and stared at them
appraisingly.
"I wish you'd help me and I'll promise that your script won't be stolen
from your hotel room. What do you say?"
Janet looked at Helen, and her companion nodded approvingly. The
decision was easy to make for Jim was likeable and both of the girls
wanted the broadcast to be a success.
"All right, we'll do it," said Janet.
"You mean you'll do it," Helen corrected her. "I'm not good as a writer
and you can fairly make a typewriter talk. I'll just hang around and
give you whatever advice I can and try not to be a nuisance."
"Say, that's great," said the continuity writer. "When can you begin?"
"As soon as we are through rehearsing this afternoon," promised Janet.
"How long will it take?"
"I don't know," she confessed. "Radio continuity is something new for
me. I'll simply do the rough stuff and you'll have to smooth it over."
"Then suppose you come to my office as soon as you're through and you
can work right on into the evening. Helen and I will see that you are
well supplied with coffee, sandwiches and whatever you want in the way
of eats."
"I'll be there," promised Janet. "Now we've got to get back to the
studio."
At rehearsal that afternoon neither their director nor Rachel Nesbit
were in a good mood and Rachel made it obvious that despite Curt's
explanation she still blamed Janet and Helen for being taken off the
continuity work on the script.
"It was the chance of a lifetime," Janet overheard her telling another
girl in the company. "What if there is a clause about keeping the script
secret. I'd know it as soon as the final chapter is placed in the hands
of the company for rehearsal."
"But we won't get the final chapter until Saturday afternoon," replied
the other. "They're taking no chances about any leaks on this program so
any of the other companies can interfere with their contract for this
big film broadcast."
Janet had no idea just how much the broadcast of their program would
mean to the World Broadcasting Company, but from all the talk in the
studio, she knew that it must be an exceedingly large sum. The vice
president in charge of programs dropped into the studio that afternoon
and watched them work for over an hour. At the end of that time, when
the director called a brief recess, Janet saw him conferring with Mr.
Adolphi. Whatever passed between them evidently was not pleasant to the
director for he called them back at once and they started all over
again, the director driving them with an intensity that approached a
white-hot fury.
At last the rehearsal was over and most of them were completely worn
out. Janet, fortunately, had been spared most of the director's
criticism while poor Helen had come in for several bitter attacks from
him.
"I'm going on to the hotel, take a shower and crawl into bed," said
Helen. "Another day like this will put me in bed for a week."
"I'll be along later," said Janet. "Get the mail at the desk and if
there are any letters for me, leave them on my bed."
They parted, Helen taking the elevator down and Janet turning toward the
suite of rooms where the continuity writers worked. At the end of a long
corridor, she found Jim Hill's office, a tiny cubby that contained only
a desk, chair and typewriter stand.
"I thought you'd forgotten all about this writing date," said Jim,
looking up. "I've patched up the sequence that Adolphi objected to this
afternoon, but I'm still in a mess over the last episode. It's got to
carry a lot of punch and this is the chapter we've got to guard until
the last afternoon of rehearsal. There are more leaks in a big studio
like this than you can shake a fist at."
"But who would give away this information?" asked Janet.
"That's not hard to guess," replied Jim. "It could be someone jealous of
another member of the company, or someone who wanted a job with another
broadcasting outfit and who figured that by double crossing his or her
present employer, a better job could be obtained."
Jim stood up and motioned for Janet to take his place at the typewriter.
Briefly he explained what he had been trying to work out and Janet
thought his ideas sounded good. But somewhere the winning punch was
lacking.
She scanned the last pages of script which he had written. Then she
rolled a fresh sheet of copy paper into the typewriter and started work.
A new interest took possession of her and the fatigue of the day dropped
away as she got into the swing of the writing.
Chapter Twenty-four
NIGHT ON THE TWENTY-SEVENTH FLOOR
Jim Hill peered over her shoulder for a time. Then satisfied at the work
she was doing, he slipped away and went in quest of a basket of lunch.
It was nearly half an hour before he returned and by that time Janet had
completed two pages of manuscript.
Jim laid the lunch out on his desk and while Janet munched a thick, cold
meat sandwich and quaffed a glass of cold milk, he read the pages with
real care.
"Say, this is just the stuff my script lacked," enthused the continuity
writer. "My gosh, Janet, you ought to be on the staff here. We pay money
for fresh ideas like these."
Janet stopped munching the sandwich and looked at Jim Hill with real
interest.
"You actually think it is good?" she asked.
"I'll say it's good. Of course a lot of work has to be done to put it in
finished form, but you've got the meat of it here. I'm going to take
this down to McGregor. He's still in his office."
Before Janet could ask about McGregor and who he was, Jim Hill picked up
the manuscript and his own work and fled down the hall.
When he returned ten minutes later a square hulk of a man, who had thick
pompadour hair and peered through thick lensed glasses, followed him
into his office.
"Janet," said the younger writer, "I want you to know Mr. McGregor, who
is head of our continuity department. I showed him your manuscript and
he agrees with me that it is just what we want for the final episode in
the program for Ace Pictures. Can you go on working tonight? We've got
to have the finished draft in the morning."
There was a dire appeal in young Jim Hill's eyes. Janet couldn't have
ignored that and then Mr. McGregor spoke.
"It is extremely important that we have the Ace contract," he said in
his slow, precise way. "Other companies are also anxious for it and if
our dress rehearsal Saturday night fails to meet the approval of the Ace
officials, we may lose the contract, which would then go to one of our
rivals. We are none too sure but what they have certain people within
our own staff who might sell them some of our secrets about this
program."
"I know the situation," said Janet. "I'm tired, but I'll keep on until I
either go to sleep or am through."
Mr. McGregor smiled approvingly and Jim Hill felt like shouting.
"That's splendid," said the continuity chief. "I'm going to send Jim
along to bed. He's to report here early tomorrow morning to start the
rewriting of your story. You keep on as long as you can. When you are
through you can lock the script in the right hand drawer of Jim's desk.
Here is a key for you and Jim has one already."
The head of the continuity department departed and Jim Hill lingered on
for a minute or two.
"Want some more lunch?" he asked.
Janet, who had turned back to her typewriter, shook her head.
"How about a cup of coffee to keep you awake a while longer? I don't
want you to go to sleep before you get this material hashed out for me."
"Go on, Jim. I'll get along all right. It won't take long now if I'm not
interrupted."
Jim Hill took the hint and departed quietly and Janet continued with her
work. It was something she thoroughly enjoyed doing. This writing was
creating something out of whole cloth. Of course it would have to have a
special revision by Jim tomorrow to work it into the script, but when it
finally went on the air there would still be a lot of her material in
the radio play.
Janet worked for more than half an hour and then leaned back in her
chair for her arms ached and her eyes were blurred.
The studio was strangely silent. From somewhere at a distance came the
soft strains of an orchestra but there was no sound in the corridor
where the writer's offices were located.
Janet picked up the sheets of copy she had written and scanned the
material. She smiled a bit as she read it and admitted that it did real
well.
Placing the sheets back on the desk, she inserted a fresh page of copy
paper into the typewriter. She would be through in a few more minutes.
She glanced at her wrist watch before she started in again. It was
eleven-forty. By midnight she would be through.
Janet was about to resume her work when a queer sensation started at the
base of her spine and shot up her back. It was a feeling she couldn't
quite describe and she sat perfectly motionless for several seconds.
Through her mind shot the thought that someone was watching her, peering
at her from the darkness of the long corridor.
Janet turned suddenly, but there was no one behind her. She got up and
went to the door where she could look down the corridor, but there was
no one in sight. The office across the corridor from Jim's was dark and
the windows only mirrored the shadowy depths.
Despite the fact that she saw no one, Janet was not wholly reassured and
she looked about Jim's office. There were shades at the windows and the
door which could be pulled down and she closed the door and drew all of
the curtains. Before returning to the desk, she snapped the spring lock
on the door. That done, she went back to the typewriter, but it was hard
to concentrate now.
Janet forced herself to the task. She knew she must finish and at last
got into the mood of her script again, working now at high speed and
wholly forgetful of the strange feeling which had alarmed her.
Somewhere in the distance a bell tolled midnight as she finished the
last page and pulled it triumphantly from the typewriter. The job was
done and she felt that it was well done.
The pages she had written were scattered over the top of the desk and as
she reached out to pick them up, one of them floated to the floor. Janet
half turned to pick it up. As she did so, her eyes fell on a small gap
in the curtains she had drawn on the windows along the corridor.
Chapter Twenty-five
JANET OPENS A DOOR
A half stifled scream escaped from her lips. Someone was staring at her
intently through the small opening. The light from the desk lamp was
just strong enough to reveal two eyes. That was all, but Janet saw the
desperate intentness with which they were focused upon her.
Then the eyes vanished and there was no sound from the corridor.
Involuntarily Janet leaped to her feet, her trembling hands seeking the
curtain and closing the gap. She wanted to cry out, but the words stuck
in her throat and she realized that to scream would be useless for there
was no one along the corridor at this hour of the night who could help
her.
Stepping back from the curtained window, Janet listened intently for the
sound of footfalls in the corridor. Then she remembered that it was
heavily carpeted and one could move along it without making a noise.
Visibly shaken, she finally rallied her nerves and stooped down to pick
up the sheet of copy which had fallen from the desk. Almost mechanically
she placed the sheets in order and stacked them neatly. That done she
sat down at the desk to decide what to do.
There was no question in her own mind but what someone was after the
manuscript she had finished and someone outside the studio. The
disappearance of the manuscript from her hotel room tied up with this
latest event and Janet knew that some agency was determined that the
story of the last eventful days of the filming of "Kings of the Air"
should never be told as a part of the radio play they were to present.
Whether the unknown force was the Premier Film Company or a radio rival
of the World Broadcasting Company, she couldn't even guess, but in
either case she knew that she was in a particularly unpleasant position,
and wished that Jim was with her.
Janet unlocked the right hand drawer of Jim's desk and pulled it out.
For ordinary purposes it was strong enough, but to place a valuable
manuscript in it was something that made her hesitate.
She turned around and stared at the curtains at the windows and the door
along the corridor. They were drawn tightly now. It would be impossible
for anyone to see in the office.
What should she do with the manuscript? Would it be safe in her own
hands when she walked down the long corridor she must traverse before
she reached the reception lobby and the battery of elevators?
Janet didn't feel she wanted to risk that, yet she knew it would be
unsafe in the drawer of Jim's desk.
Suddenly her gaze fell upon the telephone and she smiled a little
foolishly. She picked up the instrument and waited for the operator in
the main office to answer.
There was no response.
Janet jiggled the hook several times, but still there was no answer. She
did not know that the particular branch exchange on that floor which
served the publicity department did not have an operator on duty after
midnight.
Janet's spirits drooped when she failed to get a response through the
telephone and once more she looked about the room for some place to hide
the manuscript.
Suddenly she hit upon a plan of action. Seizing the manuscript she
hastened over near the outside window, reached down and pulled up the
heavy carpet which covered the floor. Working swiftly she placed the
manuscript under the carpet, spreading the sheets out so there would be
no noticeable bulge in the floor covering.
That done Janet returned to the desk, picked up a handful of blank copy
paper, folded it quickly, and stuffed it into a large envelope. Taking
up a pen she scrawled these words on the envelope: "Jim Hill--Here is
the manuscript you wanted. Hope it is something that will fit into your
program. Janet Hardy."
Janet didn't even stop to blot the wet ink, dropping the envelope into
the drawer, and closing and locking the receptacle.
She felt better after that. At least she felt she had done her best to
save the manuscript. Now the problem was to get up enough courage to
attempt the walk down the long, darkened corridor.
Janet slipped the key to the drawer of Jim's desk into her left shoe,
mechanically patted her hair, and decided that she might just as well be
on her way.
It took nerve to open that door, and to step out into the hall from
which someone had been staring at her only several minutes before. But
somehow Janet managed it.
Chapter Twenty-six
IN THE HALL