business,
Martin.”
Discovering it pleasant to be talking to
someone who understood, if only a little bit, what his work
entailed, Martin nodded. “Yes, I do. I don’t mind, really, and I
enjoy the variety, but looking after Horace Huxtable isn’t one of
my favorite pastimes.”
“You ought to get some assistants. Or chain
him to a wall or something.”
“I’m hoping to do that very thing—hire
assistants, that is—if this picture is the success we think it will
be. Assistants cost money, and you can see already how large a crew
it takes to make a picture.”
“Yeah. I was kind of surprised.”
“We need cameramen, people to write the
musical score, people to write and paint the subtitles, people to
create scenery, costumes, all sorts of things like that. Not to
mention people to scout out locations and set the scenes and pick
up and clean the tents and other stuff. When we use animals, as we
do in this picture, we need to find them, and the people to take
care of them, too. And don’t forget food service when we’re on
location, as we are this time.”
“That must cost a bundle.”
“It does, believe me. So I don’t begrudge Mr.
Lovejoy his job, believe me. He’s a whiz at finding money.”
“Now, there’s a fine, useful quality in a
man,” said Charlie with approval.
“It is indeed. But it leaves everything else
to me. One of these days, though, we’ll be able to hire
assistants.”
“Good luck to you. I hope you make a
fortune.”
Charlie sounded as if he meant it, and Martin
was glad to accept his good wishes. “Thanks, Charlie.”
They had to look into every tent they passed.
It pleased Martin that Charlie was so eager to help. Unless it was
because he wanted to punch Huxtable again. He decided not to dwell
on that unlikely possibility. After all, Charlie was a sensible
fellow. He’d only hit Huxtable the first time because the man had
been an insufferable boor. In Huxtable’s last picture for Peerless,
an assistant cameraman had popped him with much less cause.
Which brought to mind a whole slew of
scenarios in which they might find Peerless’s errant star. Lord,
what if Huxtable had insulted a native and been shot for his
efforts? This was El Monte, after all, where Wild Western
sensibilities might yet prevail.
Opening a trunk and peering inside, in case
Huxtable was sleeping it off in there, Charlie asked, “What-all
kinds of jobs do you have to do for these pictures, Martin?”
Silently blessing Charlie for taking his mind
away from the mental image of Horace Huxtable with a bullet hole in
his egotistical head, Martin said, “Oh, I’m the one who has to
search out locations and so forth. That’s the first job to be done
when a picture is in the planning stages.”
“You mean like here?”
“That’s right. We do a lot of cowboy stuff,
so I hang around deserts a good deal.”
“Hope they aren’t all as ugly as this one,”
Charlie opined.
With a soft laugh, Martin said, “Deserts
aren’t my favorite places. And we usually have to shoot during the
hottest part of the year, because of the sunlight, so it’s not
awfully pleasant sometimes.”
Charlie, an Arizonian, nodded as if he
understood completely.
“Of course, I search out new talent, too. I
found you, remember.”
“I remember.”
Shooting a sharp glance at him, Martin
wondered why Charlie didn’t sound more cheerful about it. Figuring
he should deal with one crisis at a time, he opted to ask
later.
“And I often direct, as I’m doing on this
picture. I’m part owner of the studio, but I generally leave the
business side of it to my partner, Mr. Lovejoy. He’s better at it
than I am.”
“You trust him not to cheat you?”
“Absolutely.” Martin was shocked that anyone
would question Phineas Lovejoy’s integrity. Then again, Charlie had
never met him, so he couldn’t know that Phineas would sooner cut
his own throat than perpetrate a swindle. That was the only reason
Martin had felt
Martin.”
Discovering it pleasant to be talking to
someone who understood, if only a little bit, what his work
entailed, Martin nodded. “Yes, I do. I don’t mind, really, and I
enjoy the variety, but looking after Horace Huxtable isn’t one of
my favorite pastimes.”
“You ought to get some assistants. Or chain
him to a wall or something.”
“I’m hoping to do that very thing—hire
assistants, that is—if this picture is the success we think it will
be. Assistants cost money, and you can see already how large a crew
it takes to make a picture.”
“Yeah. I was kind of surprised.”
“We need cameramen, people to write the
musical score, people to write and paint the subtitles, people to
create scenery, costumes, all sorts of things like that. Not to
mention people to scout out locations and set the scenes and pick
up and clean the tents and other stuff. When we use animals, as we
do in this picture, we need to find them, and the people to take
care of them, too. And don’t forget food service when we’re on
location, as we are this time.”
“That must cost a bundle.”
“It does, believe me. So I don’t begrudge Mr.
Lovejoy his job, believe me. He’s a whiz at finding money.”
“Now, there’s a fine, useful quality in a
man,” said Charlie with approval.
“It is indeed. But it leaves everything else
to me. One of these days, though, we’ll be able to hire
assistants.”
“Good luck to you. I hope you make a
fortune.”
Charlie sounded as if he meant it, and Martin
was glad to accept his good wishes. “Thanks, Charlie.”
They had to look into every tent they passed.
It pleased Martin that Charlie was so eager to help. Unless it was
because he wanted to punch Huxtable again. He decided not to dwell
on that unlikely possibility. After all, Charlie was a sensible
fellow. He’d only hit Huxtable the first time because the man had
been an insufferable boor. In Huxtable’s last picture for Peerless,
an assistant cameraman had popped him with much less cause.
Which brought to mind a whole slew of
scenarios in which they might find Peerless’s errant star. Lord,
what if Huxtable had insulted a native and been shot for his
efforts? This was El Monte, after all, where Wild Western
sensibilities might yet prevail.
Opening a trunk and peering inside, in case
Huxtable was sleeping it off in there, Charlie asked, “What-all
kinds of jobs do you have to do for these pictures, Martin?”
Silently blessing Charlie for taking his mind
away from the mental image of Horace Huxtable with a bullet hole in
his egotistical head, Martin said, “Oh, I’m the one who has to
search out locations and so forth. That’s the first job to be done
when a picture is in the planning stages.”
“You mean like here?”
“That’s right. We do a lot of cowboy stuff,
so I hang around deserts a good deal.”
“Hope they aren’t all as ugly as this one,”
Charlie opined.
With a soft laugh, Martin said, “Deserts
aren’t my favorite places. And we usually have to shoot during the
hottest part of the year, because of the sunlight, so it’s not
awfully pleasant sometimes.”
Charlie, an Arizonian, nodded as if he
understood completely.
“Of course, I search out new talent, too. I
found you, remember.”
“I remember.”
Shooting a sharp glance at him, Martin
wondered why Charlie didn’t sound more cheerful about it. Figuring
he should deal with one crisis at a time, he opted to ask
later.
“And I often direct, as I’m doing on this
picture. I’m part owner of the studio, but I generally leave the
business side of it to my partner, Mr. Lovejoy. He’s better at it
than I am.”
“You trust him not to cheat you?”
“Absolutely.” Martin was shocked that anyone
would question Phineas Lovejoy’s integrity. Then again, Charlie had
never met him, so he couldn’t know that Phineas would sooner cut
his own throat than perpetrate a swindle. That was the only reason
Martin had felt
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