The girl gripped Baird's arm until he winced.

"There, old Pippin! There's your million, picked right up on the lot!" "Maybe," assented the cooler Baird, as they left the projection room.
"And say," asked the girl, "did you notice all morning how he didn't even bat an eye when you spoke to him, if the camera was still turning?
Not like a beginner that'll nearly always look up and get out of the picture." "What I bet," observed Baird, "I bet he'd 'a' done that album stuff even better than he did if I'd actually put his own pictures in, the way I'm going to for the close-ups.

I was afraid he'd see it was kidding if I did, or if I told him what pictures they were going to be.

But I'm darned now if I don't think he'd have stood for it.

I don't believe you'll ever be able to peeve that boy by telling him he's good." The girl glanced up defensively as they walked.
"Now don't get the idea he's conceited, because he ain't.