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 I. ..

Wait a minute, Mr. Deacon. Don't interrupt. What I am getting at is this: Our firm, our group of artists, pays authors the highest sums compatible with sound business principles. Perhaps—I won't say for sure—we should pay you just a little more than we pay some of the others. It is reported to me, Mr. Deacon. . . Griesheimer's tone now became insinuating. . . that you are at present the guest of Imperia Starling. I should hate to believe, Mr. Deacon, you are playing us against Invincible to see which'll offer you the highest price.

It's not true! Ambrose positively shrieked. I tell you I don't want to write for the films. I don't know anything about pictures. I. ..

The film magnate changed his tactics. Mr. Deacon, he demanded, how much do you want?

I don't want anything. I want to go to New Mexico.

How much has Schwarzstein offered you?

He hasn't offered me anything. I haven't seen Schwarzstein. I can't write stories for you. I don't know anything about moving pictures.

Griesheimer appeared to meditate. Presently he pushed a button and his secretary again made his appearance.