Page:The Black Camel (IA blackcamel0000earl).djvu/78

“Perhaps?” laughed Van Horn. “Well, that’s flattering. The reward of ten years’ hard work.”

“You have, then, been in Hollywood for the past ten years?”

“Ten years and a half—lost in what the amiable Mr. Mencken calls the sewers of Hollywood.”

“And before that?”

“Oh, before that I led a most romantic life—ask my press-agent.”

“I seek to determine facts,” Charlie said.

“In that case I shall have to tell you that I came there, wide-eyed and innocent, from an engineering school. I planned to build bridges, but my fatal beauty intervened.”

“You have appeared with Miss Shelah Fane in other pictures before this one?”

“No.” Van Horn grew more serious. “I scarcely knew her until I was engaged for this part.”

“I do not need to ask where you were at two minutes past eight to-night?” Chan continued.

“No, you don’t,” the actor agreed. “I was in the same room with you. You'll remember I looked at my watch and remarked that it was eight o’clock, and that I was toddling along down here. At two minutes past the hour I was still where you could see me—if you cared to avail yourself of the privilege.”

“You came to this house immediately?”

“Yes—I walked. Exercise—that’s how I keep in trim. I got here about eight-fifteen—I didn’t hurry. Jessop let me in, we had a little chat, and at about eight-twenty I joined Mrs. Ballou on the beach, as you've already heard.”

Jimmy Bradshaw returned. “I got that man Fyfe