CHAPTER 1

Alice and Harold paused for a moment, and gazedup at the skyscraper in front of them. Then they pushedtheir way through the revolving doors of the United RadioSociety.

"Remember, think like a professional," Haroldwhispered.

"Yes," Alice answered. She tried, but she couldn't.Not for a minute.

The Information Girl looked up after she hadfinished a line in her anthology of "Three Plays By EugeneO'Neill."

"May I help you?" she asked.

"Thank you, yes." Harold answered, professionally."Casting Department, please."

Information looked the pair up and down,suspiciously.

"Do you want to audition?" she asked.

"Bingo! That's what we'd like to do," Haroldanswered.

"Second floor. Room 207." Information went backto "The Hairy Ape."

Harold pulled Alice away.

"Now remember, they need us," he said. "Withoutactors there wouldn't be any Industry. We're not asking forany favors."

"Maybe they can do without us a little longer," saidAlice. "They've managed till now."

"Never mind that. Let's go upstairs and get it overwith."

They turned around.

"Harold, look!," Alice cried.

In the middle of the corridor, there was a large sign."Please Show Your Pass Before Entering Elevator."

"We don't have a pass." Alice was ready to gohome.

"Look at all the other people going in. They're notshowing any pass."

"Maybe they work here. Maybe they're pro—"Harold gave her a look.

"Maybe the guard knows them."

"He can only throw us out. Come on, we'll try it."

"Where are your passes?" said the guard as theywhizzed past him.

Alice emitted a ladylike burp.

"Don't have them with us this morning, Officer,"Harold said. "Just an oversight."

"We can go home and get them and come back later,Harold. We're holding everyone up." Alice left the elevator,and tripped on the door. Harold followed her.

"Why did you do that?", he demanded. "He wouldhave let us go up."

"I can't go through with it", she said. "I don'tlike my audition material anyway. Why don't we workon it some more, and then come back. When we're reallyprepared."

"You said that yesterday. We're as ready now aswe'll ever be. There must be some way to get up to Room207."

"I could get a job as a secretary," Alice said.

"What are all those people doing over there?"Harold asked. "They look like they're waiting for theelevator. Maybe he just wanted us to wait in line."

Around the corner there were a hundred peopleroped in against the wall. Harold spotted a Page and askedhim who they were."

"That's the Armstrong Theatre audience," said thePage. "It's on the air in half an hour. If you've got yourtickets, you'd better get on line." Alice was thinking hownice it would be to be a secretary with an elevator pass,when she found herself along with the crowd tied up againstthe wall.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, as shepulled at the rope on her stomach. "We don't want to hearArmstrong Theatre. But no matter because we DON'THAVE TICKETS!"

"They won't look at the tickets until we get to thestudio," Harold whispered. "We can duck out before then."

The line began to move.

"Here we go. Keep your face away from the Starter.He might remember us."

"Yes he will. We're Bonnie and Clyde on a badday." She felt less professional by the minute.

"Half the battle is believing. Start believing." Haroldanswered.

The elevator was so crowded Alice had the feelingshe was standing on someone. A small boy was under herlegs, squatting on his haunches. His hand was stretchedout into the people, evidently hanging onto someone. Alicehoped it was someone he knew.

They passed right by the second floor. The little boymoaned, "Mommy, I have to go potty. Now!" Everyonemoved slightly away from him, including whoever he wasattached to. The elevator was an express and didn't stopuntil the eighth floor. There the doors slid open and the littleboy was whisked away as Harold grabbed Alice's wrist andran for the first door that didn't have a number on it. Thiswas a bad choice because, after wading through a largelounge, it turned out to be the Men's Room, and there wasa small commotion when Alice showed up. But before anybig fuss could be made, they fled, ran down the hall anddisappeared behind a big red door marked "Exit."

"I don't like how things have been going," Haroldsaid simply. Alice nodded. "We've made a few mistakes,"Harold went on, "but nobody of any importance has seen usyet, so all we have to do is find Room 207. Forget about thelast few minutes, and let's start thinking like professionals."

So they ran down six flights of stairs. There theystopped another Page for directions.

"I beg your pardon," said Harold.

The Page put down his copy of "My Sister Eileen."

"Yes?"

"Do you know where Room 207 is?"

"You're actors, aren't you?"

Alice hid behind Harold.

"That's right," Harold answered.

"Sure," said the Page. "I've seen you in something.What was it?"

"Seen us? You mean in a play?"

"Maybe. You ever played on Broadway?"

Harold thought for a moment.

"No," he said.

"You never did? You sure?"

"I played 'Laertes' in 'Hamlet' at Columbia,"Harold offered.

"Well, I'm Cameron Cory", said the Page.

"Hi. I'm Harold Moore and this is Alice Cromwell."

Alice stuck her hand out from behind Harold

"You'd both be awfully right for my new play,"Cameron said.

"We would?" Alice asked as she stepped in front ofHarold.

"Sure. Would you like to read it?"

Harold said right out, "Yes!".

"Fine," said Cameron, and he took it out of hispocket. "I'm here every day. Let me know what you thinkof it."

"Well, thanks, Cameron." Harold said. "Do youknow where 207 is?"

Cameron closed his eyes and mumbled to himself."Well, 208 is on the other side of the corridor. Call me. Mynumber's on the script." He was whistling as he walked off.

"Isn't he nice?" Alice asked.

"See? Even playwrights have day jobs," Haroldanswered.

208 was where Cameron had said it would be, nextto 209. Harold and Alice went in.

"Pardon me, Miss. Where is Room 207?" Hesounded tired.

"207," the young lady answered. "Gee, I don'tknow. Isn't it next door?"

"No. No, it isn't."

She turned to the woman behind her. "Winnie, doyou know where 207 is?"

Winnie thought for a moment. "We're 209, aren'twe?"

"We want 207."

"What department is it?" Winnie asked.

"Talent," Harold said.

"Oh," was all Winnie could come up with.

"Talent. Oh. No," said the other one, and went backto her work.

"Come on, Alice," Harold said.

Then they walked past a supply room, a postagestamp machine and a soft drink dispenser before they found207, next to a broom closet.

Inside, Miss Ripple asked if she could help.

"We'd like an audition, please," Harold said.

"For which medium, sir?"

"What?"

"Radio or television?"

"Oh. Well, both, I guess."

"No. They have different casting directors. Ondifferent floors. It has to be one or the other."

"Radio, then," Alice said to ease the tension in MissRipple's voice.

"Right!". Ripple gave a little salute, which somehowseemed appropriate.

"Heller and Dabney are booked for the next sixweeks, but I can let you have Waller on the seventeenth."

"Tomorrow?" Alice was...