"I had nothing to do with it, chief." Letcher's eyes were shifting restlessly and he mopped his brow with his handkerchief. "On my honor I didn't. Binns sent her to us."
"Binns has got to quit foisting a lot of inexperienced idiots on me. I won't stand for it."
"They say she photographs like a dream," insisted Letcher, afraid the blame might fall upon him. "I didn't want to overlook a bet for you. That's the only reason I called her out of the crowd."
"And gave her a little extra squeeze, I suppose. Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes, Letcher, or pass the buck. You're as transparent as glass."
"Yes, chief."
Here Al Kessler stepped forward with elastic step. "Good morning, Mr. Bacon," he said effusively. "Anything I can do for you today?"
"Yes, keep out of my sight!" stormed Bacon.
"Very good, sir," answered Al, undaunted, delighted to be the center of interest no matter how he earned the distinction.
Bacon turned to Letcher, snapping his fingers at each order. "Get everybody ready for rehearsal. Send Bill out for more cigars. Have this lousy new leading lady we've got cued to be on the set in ten minutes. We've got to get started early this morning. I want to clean up all the ballroom scenes by tomorrow night."
Letcher's fat face was most ridiculous in repose, and when he walked it quivered like a bowl of jelly. Minnie smiled at him flirtatiously when he passed by but he paid no attention to her; he was afraid Bacon was watching him.
A rehearsal began which seemed endless and stupid to Minnie. Letcher bawled the numbers through a megaphone while the extra people moved like uninspired automatons,
