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 them difficult to put into practical use." He marshaled all these theories, evaluated between what was practical and what was merely visionary, finally rejecting everything but the idea of humanizing the characters of the stories given him to produce. His success was of slow but definite growth. After five years of tireless application, he was recognized as one of the most capable, intelligent directors of the screen.

Beauregard paid him a larger salary than was being paid to any other director. For this reason alone Beauregard acceded to all his demands.

Deane bought a story of the tenement districts of New York. The locale was lower Ninth Avenue, and he knew that in order to give a semblance of reality to the characters they must be chosen carefully from among the actors and actresses who typified such an environment. The story was the romance of a shallow, ignorant little girl who succeeded because of a pretty face and native wit.

"I've got the girl!" Deane cried out, his arms cutting through the heavy fog of tobacco smoke swirling to the low ceiling of Beauregard's office. "I've got her!"

The men bent forward eagerly. They had deliberated long and seriously over a girl to play the role of Margie Tait in "Women for Sale."

"Who?"

"Big star?"

"Nobody you ever heard of before. Can't even remember her name. Extra girl. Send for Letcher!"

Letcher was brought in, his fat pulpy face gray with fear. "The boss has got something up his sleeve," Letcher was thinking as he hurriedly followed the office boy through the winding corridors to Beauregard's private office.

When Letcher came into the room and stood there in half-cringing, apologetic attitude, Deane asked: