and he insisted upon a double doing the large rescue. This eleventh hour mutiny on the part of his star got Mr. Daft red-headed and he ruled the double off on the grounds that Harold had used doubles so many times of late that the dear old public was beginning to get wise that their idol had feet of ice. The argument kept up for a week, with the star and director deadlocked. Honestly, Mr. Daft was frantic as the immense overhead of the company reporting daily went on and the release date drew nearer. Then he remembered how I had maneuvered Fighting Paddy Leary into a world's championship in London and in desperation "the Master" came to me.
"Show me an out to this jam, Miss Fix-It, and you can write your own ticket!" wails Mr. Daft.
Well, gentle reader, I did both!
In a hasty conference behind locked doors with Mr. Daft, his various assistants, production manager and publicity director, I outlined a rather daring and original plan to make the faint-hearted Harold Lorraine rescue. Thelma Tasty from the flames. There was a tense silence when I finished speaking—really, you could have heard a gag drop! Mr. Daft frowned, coughed, drummed on the table with a pencil, looked doubtful and finally remarked that he thought my scheme clever, but a bit too risky. That being the cue for the others, they thought so too. All except "Scoop"
