“You’re John Bartlemore!” exclaimed Abigail. She blushed furiously as the handsome actor turned to her and grinned.
“That’s me! We were on a shoot in the area and spotted your little…er…gathering,” he said brightly as he motioned vaguely to the tents. “And who are you, lovely lady, and what are you folks doing here? Is it some kind of campout?”
Andy couldn’t help noticing that Abigail turned an even deeper shade of crimson when Bartlemore called her “lovely lady.”
“Abigail Awol,” she replied softly. “I’ve seen all of your movies.” She gazed at the actor with what Andy thought were almost literal stars in her eyes.
Suddenly, the arrival of one of his silver screen heroes didn’t seem so great. Andy had never seen Abigail, who was usually supremely confident, act like one of those giggling, prissy girls he’d seen at school who spent all day mooning over the celebrity gossip magazines.
Who does he think he is, barging in on us like this? Andy thought. These Hollywood types think that they own the world!
From the look on Rusty’s face, it seemed the pilot must be thinking about the same thing. Rusty’s face had turned bright red, and Andy knew that it wasn’t from embarrassment. His red mustache bristled and his one good eye glared at Bartlemore, looking every bit as steely as his fake one.
“Listen, Mr. Bartlemore. We’re a team of highly trained research scientists on an archaeological expedition. I’m sorry we can’t accommodate visitors right now, but we’re working here,” he said through gritted teeth. “If you don’t mind…”
“Archaeologists? Well, that’s just splendid!” Bartlemore said, rubbing his hands together. “Searching for lost treasure, eh? That’s just the thing that would get me the front page of the trades. Hey, Charlie, can you believe my luck?”
“Great luck, J.B. Couldn’t be luckier,” replied the cameraman. Andy noticed that he was still filming.
Bartlemore snapped his fingers and his Hollywood smile grew even bigger. “I’ve got it! We’ll film all this and put it in a newsreel in front of my next picture.” He gestured to the group. “You’ll all be famous!” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Who wouldn’t like a bit of fame and fortune, eh? Well, maybe not fortune….That part belongs to me. Hah!”
Andy noticed that instead of exciting them, Bartlemore’s news made everyone nervous. The cover story Rusty had come up with was fine as long as they all remained anonymous. But for most of them, being a part of the Jungle Explorers’ Society was supposed to be a secret. They couldn’t afford to have their faces splashed across every movie screen in America.
How arrogant can a person be? Andy wondered. He thinks that because he’s famous, we’ll just do what he says?
“Sorry, no,” said Rusty.
But Bartlemore didn’t appear to be listening. He was busy telling Charlie to get a shot of him standing next to Betty and Dotty. The sisters glared at the actor, and Andy knew that if he wasn’t careful, it might be Bartlemore who ended up a headline in the papers back home.
Actor found dead in jungle. Cause of death: mysterious razor-sharp throwing stars.
Even as he thought it, Andy could see Betty fingering the pouch at her belt.
Abigail must have seen it, too, and ran over to where Bartlemore was standing with his arm around Dotty’s shoulders.
“Mr. Bartlemore, I’m truly sorry, but this is not a good time,” Abigail said. “As wonderful as your offer is, I’m afraid we must decline.”
Abigail flashed him a beautiful smile, but Bartlemore just stared back at her with a confused expression.
“Decline? Well…that’s…that’s quite unexpected.” He struck a theatrical thinking pose, his finger perched on his dimpled jaw and his other hand on his hip. “Quite unexpected. Did you hear that, Charlie? They are declining our very generous offer.”
“I heard, J.B. Declined the offer. A stupid move, J.B.,” Charlie said.
“I agree, Charlie. Quite stupid,” replied Bartlemore. He turned back to Abigail and put his big hand on her shoulder. The expression he wore was one that looked as if he were explaining something profound to a very simpleminded student.
“Thank you for your opinion, lovely lady. But I’m afraid declining is not an option. I’ve decided. We will be coming with you folks, whether you like it or not.”
Abigail stared at him in disbelief. It wasn’t the answer she’d expected.
It was all too much for Rusty. The man snorted like an enraged bull and marched over to Bartlemore, looking as if he’d like to tear the man limb from limb.
“Now see here!” he shouted.
But Bartlemore merely turned to him, a calm expression on his face. “No, you see. There’s no law prohibiting me from following you through this jungle. You can’t stop me. I have attorneys back in Los Angeles who would slap you with a lawsuit so fast it would make your head spin.”
Bartlemore turned and took a deep breath, smelling the jungle air and looking around as if he owned the entire thing.
“I’m going to enjoy this. Come on, Charlie, let’s get back to camp. I’ve got some ideas for the script.”
“Coming, J.B.,” Charlie said, and ignoring the stunned expressions on the faces of Rusty and the rest of the explorers, the cameraman marched dutifully after his boss without ever taking his eye away from the camera lens.
Andy walked over to Rusty, who was staring furiously at the tree-lined spot where they’d disappeared.
“What should we do?” Andy asked.
Rusty paused and then replied with a dangerous-looking smile, “Let him follow. There’s no way a two-bit Hollywood actor could possibly survive the mission we’re about to undertake.”
Rusty glanced down at Andy and added, in a gruff voice, “You’re going, too. If it were up to me you’d stay behind, but Ned’s orders are Ned’s orders. Pack your kit.”
As Andy, feeling both exhilarated that he was going and worried that something terrible was going to happen, ran back to his tent to get his things, he couldn’t help thinking Bartlemore is about to find out just how unlike the movies adventures really are!
The
