RANSVESTIA

Arnold. Ah, thought Fennell, I know him. A thin little guy who had directed one, or was it two, of the 'Range War' series of which Fennell had been the star. "Did he tell you the part he had in mind for me?" he drawled.

"Yes," she said brightly. His temper rose at the silence which followed. She was in one of those stupid playful moods, he thought. When he got it together again, he'd have to have a good talk with. Bob Dawson about Dawson taking over Fennell personally. She, however, tired of the game first and finally spoke. "He thought you might do the Rita Ronay part," her voice was quite non-committal.

"B-but that's the impersonator," he began, stunned by her words. "I can't play a part like that."

"Why not?" her voice spoke clearly into his ear. "They can do anything with makeup these days. It's a very good part, and you're sure to be noticed if you do it."

He was furious, "Just what do you and this Arnold think I am? There's nothing queer about me. I don't need this kind of script." He would have slammed the phone down but for her quick, urgent voice.

"But you do, Curtis," she said. "You do."

Fennell's bearded face scowled, but the urgency of her remark stopped him. "What do you mean?" he asked brusquely, dreading what she was about to say.

"If you don't start pulling some money in fast, this year, the agency will be forced to drop you," her voice was still light and pleasant.

Cold beads of sweat came to his forehead. It was the message he had been dreading. He knew that he was slipping, they didn't have to tell him that, but he could still get work. Cowboy series were sure to come back. "Are you trying to blackmail me?" he said hoarsely.

"Of course not, Curtis, darling," he hated her when she was so sincere. "You probably don't even know that your bank will foreclose on your mortgage if you don't work again soon. It's been two years, you know, since you worked, and Louis Repp was pretty agitated about it when I saw him this morning."

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