The picture was "The Case of the Curious Bride," and Errol Flynn was enacting a small role in it. He was playing, believe it or not, the part of a corpse. He lay covered with a black shroud all day during the early part of the picture, and only at the end, in the scenes which were to explain his murder, did he, for a brief instant, come to life. But in that moment, Errol Flynn's fortune was made.

The girl was Margaret Lindsay and the scene was to show Errol struggling with her, just before he was killed. It was only a flash, and director didn't feel it necessary to rehearse. "Hey, you!" the director called to Errol. It was significant that he didn't use his name. He didn't use it because he couldn't remember it! "Just give us a good, rousing, realistic fight, and that's all I'll ask of you."

The scene was all set up, the camera was ready, the director gave the signal to start, and Errol lit into it. A few minutes later when the "Cut!" word was given, there was one young lady, Margaret Lindsay, slightly the worse for wear, weeping a little, nursing her wrist a lot.

"Oh, I say, I'm sorry," the tall young man apologized, genuinely repentant. "Let me take a look." Gingerly, the actress placed her tiny hand in his big one. The marks of his fingers were still there on her wrist. "I'm afraid it's sprained," she said softly.

A minute later Margaret was taken to the First Aid station, and a publicity man, who had happened to be present, was dashing off to his typewriter. "Ye gods, what a guy!" he was muttering to himself. "Is he the real thing...a real he-man! I never saw such vitality, such realism in a fight scene in my life! Of course he's nobody, but I ought to get a column lead on it, at least."