He noted that the men formed a group in one corner of the room, a group which partook freely of the cocktails now passed about by the dozens on trays. Ambrose himself was not laggard in this respect. The ladies, on the other hand, did not appear to be drinking. They had congregated in another corner where, to judge by their whispering and laughter, they were indulging in gossip.
Ambrose, always more or less in the company of Herbert Ringrose, listened in amazement to a language which he could scarcely understand, composed as it was of words like rushes, retakes, previews, and location. In wild-eyed wonder he listened to a report of an incident of the day. It seems that some stunt man, whatever that might be, had agreed to ride a bicycle from a platform through an open freight-car while the train was moving at full speed. He was to receive twenty-five dollars for this hazardous undertaking.
We'll have to kill about six of 'em before we get the shot, remarked the informer who, Ambrose gathered, was a director.
Fortified by gin, Ambrose asked a question of Ringrose.
Lord no! that one replied. It's just to double for a comic in a custard pie opus. You can get all the
