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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/12663-8.txt b/12663-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..df0404b --- /dev/null +++ b/12663-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7107 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Phantom Herd, by B. M. Bower + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Phantom Herd + +Author: B. M. Bower + +Release Date: June 19, 2004 [eBook #12663] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM HERD*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Project Gutenberg Beginners Projects, +Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +THE PHANTOM HERD + +BY B. M. BOWER + +Author of Chip of the Flying-U, The Flying-U's Last Stand, +The Gringos, etc. + +1916 + + + + + + + +FOREWORD + +For the accuracy of certain parts of this story which deal most +intimately with the business of making motion pictures, I am indebted to +Buck Connor. whose name is a sufficient guarantee that all technical +points are correct. His criticism, advice and other assistance have been +invaluable, and I take this opportunity of expressing my appreciation and +thanks for the help he has given me. + +B.M.BOWER. + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + + + I THE INDIANS MUST GO + + II "WHERE THE CATTLE ROAMED IN THOUSANDS, A-MANY A HERD AND + BRAND..." + + III AND THEY SIGH FOR THE DAYS THAT ARE GONE + + IV THE LITTLE DOCTOR PROTESTS + + V A BUNCH OF ONE-REELERS FROM BENTLY BROWN + + VI VILLAINS ALL AND PROUD OF IT + + VII BENTLY BROWN DOES NOT APPRECIATE COMEDY + + VIII "THERE'S GOT TO BE A LINE DRAWN SOMEWHERES" + + IX LEAVE IT TO THE BUNCH + + X UNEXPECTED GUESTS FOR APPLEHEAD + + XI JUST A FEW UNFORESEEN OBSTACLES + + XII "I THINK YOU NEED INDIAN GIRL FOR PICTURE" + + XIII "PAM. BLEAK MESA--CATTLE DRIFTING BEFORE WIND--" + + XIV "PLUMB SPOILED, D'YUH MEAN?" + + XV A LETTER FROM CHIEF BIG TURKEY + + XVI "THE CHANCES IS SLIM AND GITTIN' SLIMMER" + + XVII THE STORM + + XVIII A FEW OF THE MINOR DIFFICULTIES + + XIX WHEREIN LUCK MAKES A SPEECH + + XX "SHE'S SHAPING UP LIKE A BANK ROLL" + + + + + +CHAPTER ONE + +THE INDIANS MUST GO + + +Luck Lindsay had convoyed his thirty-five actor-Indians to their +reservation at Pine Ridge, and had turned them over to the agent in good +condition and a fine humor and nice new hair hatbands and other fixings; +while their pockets were heavy with dollars that you may be sure would +not he spent very wisely. He had shaken hands with the braves, and had +promised to let them know when there was another job in sight, and to +speak a good word for them to other motion-picture companies who might +want to hire real Indians. He had smiled at the fat old squaws who had +waddled docilely in and out of the scenes and teetered tirelessly round +and round in their queer native dances in the hot sun at his behest, when +Luck wanted several rehearsals of "atmosphere" scenes before turning the +camera on them. + +They hated to go back to the tame life of the reservation and to +stringing beads and sewing buckskin with sinew, and to gossiping among +themselves of things their heavy-lidded black eyes had looked upon with +such seeming apathy. They had given Luck an elaborately beaded buckskin +vest that would photograph beautifully, and three pairs of heavy, beaded +moccasins which he most solemnly assured them he would wear in his next +picture. The smoke-smell of their tepee fires and perfumes still clung +heavily to the Indian-tanned buckskin, so that Luck carried away with +him an aroma indescribable and unmistakable to any one who has ever +smelled it. + +Just when he was leaving, a shy, big-eyed girl of ten had slid out from +the shelter of her mother's poppy-patterned skirt, had proffered three +strings of beads, and had fled. Luck had smiled his smile again--a smile +of white, even teeth and so much good will that you immediately felt that +he was your friend--and called her back to him. Luck was chief; and his +commands were to be obeyed, instantly and implicitly; that much he had +impressed deeply upon the least of these. While the squaws grinned and +murmured Indian words to one another, the big-eye girl returned +reluctantly; and Luck, dropping a hand to his coat pocket while he smiled +reassurance, emptied that pocket of gum for her. His smile had lingered +after he turned away; for like flies to an open syrup can the papooses +had gathered around the girl. + +Well, that job was done, and done well. Every one was satisfied save Luck +himself. He swung up to the back of the Indian pony that would carry him +through the Bad Lands to the railroad, and turned for a last look. The +bucks stood hip-shot and with their arms folded, watching him gravely. +The squaws pushed straggling locks from their eyes that they might watch +him also. The papooses were chewing gum and staring at him solemnly. Old +Mrs. Ghost-Dog, she of the ponderous form and plaid blanket that Luck had +used with such good effect in the foreground of his atmosphere scenes, +lifted up her voice suddenly, and wailed after him in high-keyed lament +that she would see his face no more; and Luck felt a sudden contraction +of the throat while he waved his hand to them and rode away. + +Well, now he must go on to the next job, which he hoped would be more +pleasant than this one had been. Luck hated to give up those Indians. He +liked them, and they liked him,--though that was not the point. He had +done good work with them. When he directed the scenes, those Indians did +just what he wanted, and just the way he wanted it done; Luck was too old +a director not to know the full value of such workers. + +But the Acme Film Company, caught with the rest of the world in the +pressure of hard times, wanted to economize. The manager had pointed out +to Luck, during the course of an evening's discussion, that these Indians +were luxuries in the making of pictures, and must be taken off the +payroll for the good of the dividends. The manager had contended that +white men and women, properly made up, could play the part of Indians +where Indians were needed; whereas Indians could never be made to play +the part of white men and women. Therefore, since white men and women +were absolutely necessary. Why keep a bunch of Indians around eating up +profits? The manager had sense on his side, of course. Other companies +were making Indian pictures occasionally with not a real Indian within +miles of the camera, but Luck Lindsay groaned inwardly, and cursed the +necessity of economizing. For Luck had one idol, and that idol was +realism. When the scenario called for twenty or thirty Indians, Luck +wanted _Indians_,--real, smoke-tanned, blanketed bucks and squaws and +papooses; not made-up whites who looked like animated signs for cigar +stores and acted like,--well, never mind what Luck said they acted like. + +"I can take the Injuns back," he conceded, "and worry along somehow +without them. But if you want me to put on any more Western stuff, you'll +have to let me weed out some of these Main Street cowboys that Clements +wished on to me, and go out in the sagebrush and round up some that +ain't all hair hatbands and high-heeled boots and bluff. I've got to have +some whites to fill the foreground, if I give up the Injuns; or else I +quit Western stuff altogether. I've been stalling along and keeping the +best of the bucks in the foreground, and letting these said riders lope +in and out of scenes and pile off and go to shooting soon as the camera +picks them up, but with the Injuns gone, the whites won't get by. + +"Maybe you have noticed that when there was any real riding, I've had the +Injuns do it. And do you think I've been driving that stagecoach +hell-bent from here to beyond because I'd no other way to kill time? +Wasn't another darned man in the outfit I'd trust, that's why. If I take +the Indians back, I've got to have some real boys." Luck's voice was +plaintive, and a little bit desperate. + +"Well, dammit, _have_ your real boys! I never said you shouldn't. Weed +out the company to suit yourself. You'll have to take the Injuns back; +nobody else can handle the touch-me-not devils. You can lay off the +company if you want to, and while you're up there pick up a bunch of +cowboys to suit you. You're making good, Luck; don't take it that I'm +criticizing anything you've done or the way you did it. You've been +turning out the best Western stuff that goes on the screen; anybody knows +that. That isn't the point. We just simply can't afford to keep those +Indians any longer without retrenching on something else that's a lot +more vital. You know what they cost as well as I do; you know what +present conditions are. Figure it out for yourself." + +"I don't have to," Luck retorted in a worried tone. "I know what we're up +against. I know we ought to give them up--but I sure hate to do it! +Lor-_dee_, but I can do things with that bunch! Remember Red Brother?" +Luck was off on his hobby, the making of Indian pictures. "Remember the +panoram effect I got on that massacre of the wagon train? Remember the +council-of-war scene, and the close-up of Young-Dog-Howls-At-The-Moon +making his plea for the lives of the prisoners? And the war dance with +radium flares in the camp fires to give the light-effect? That film's in +big demand yet, they tell me. I'll never be able to put over stuff like +that with made-up actors, Martinson. You know I can't." + +"I don't know; you're only just beginning to hit your gait, Luck," the +manager soothed. "You have turned out some big stuff,--some awful big +stuff; but at that you're just beginning to find yourself. Now, listen. +You can have your 'real boys' you're always crying for. I can see what +you mean when you pan these fellows you call Main Street cowboys. What +you better do is this: Close down the company for two weeks, say. Keep on +the ones you want, and let the rest out. And take these Injuns home, and +then get out after your riders. Numbers and salaries we'll leave to you. +Go as far as you like; it's a cinch you'll get what you want if you're +allowed to go after it." + +So here was Luck, arriving in due time at the railroad. He said good-by +to Young-Dog-Howls-At-The-Moon who had ridden with him, and whose kingly +bearing and clean-cut features and impressive pantomime made him a +popular screen-Indian, and sat down upon a baggage truck to smoke a +cigarette while he waited for the westbound train. + +Young-Dog-Howls-At-The-Moon he watched meditatively until that young man +had bobbed out of sight over a low hill, the pony Luck had ridden +trailing after at the end of the lead-rope. Luck's face was sober, his +eyes tired and unsmiling. He had done that much of his task: he had +returned the Indians, and automatically wiped a very large item of +expense from the accounts of the Acme Film Company. He did not like to +dwell, however, on the cost to his own pride in his work. + +The next job, now that he was actually face to face with it, looked not +so simple. He was in a country where, a few years before, his quest for +"real boys"--as he affectionately termed the type nearest his +heart--would have been easy enough. But before the marching ranks of +fence posts and barbed wire, the real boys had scattered. A more or less +beneficent government had not gathered them together, and held them apart +from the changing conditions, as it had done with the Indians. The real +boys had either left the country, or had sold their riding outfits and +gone into business in the little towns scattered hereabouts, or else they +had taken to farming the land where the big herds had grazed while the +real boys loafed on guard. + +Luck admitted to himself that in the past two years, even, conditions had +changed amazingly. Land was fenced that had been free. Even the +reservation was changed a little. He threw away that cigarette and +lighted another, and turned aggrievedly upon a dried little man who came +up with the open expectation of using the truck upon which Luck was +sitting uncomfortably. There was the squint of long looking against sun +and wind at a far skyline in the dried little man's face. There was a +certain bow in his legs, and there were various other signs which Luck +read instinctively as he got up. He smiled his smile, and the dried +little man grinned back companionably. + +"Say, old-timer, what's gone with all the cattle and all the punchers?" +Luck demanded with a mild querulousness. + +The dried little man straightened from the truck handles and regarded +Luck strangely. + +"My gorry, son, plumb hazed off'n this section the earth, I reckon. +Farmers and punchers, they don't mix no better'n sheep and cattle. Why, I +mind the time when--" + +The train was late, anyway, and the dried little man sat down on the +truck, and fumbled his cigarette book, and began to talk. Luck sat down +beside him and listened, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and +a cold cigarette in his fingers. It was not of this part of the country +that the dried little man talked, but of Montana, over there to the west. +Of northern Montana in the days when it was cowman's paradise; the days +when round-up wagons started out with the grass greening the hilltops, +and swung from the Rockies to the Bear Paws and beyond in the wide arc +that would cover their range; of the days of the Cross L and the Rocking +R and the Lazy Eight,--every one of them brand names to glisten the eyes +of old-time Montanans. + +"Where would you go to find them boys now?" the dried little man +questioned mournfully. "The Rocking R's gone into sheep, and the old boys +have all left. The Cross L moved up into Canada, Lord knows how they're +making out; I don't. Only outfit in northern Montana I know that has hung +together at all is the Flying U. Old man Whitmore, he's hangin' on by his +eyewinkers to what little range he can, and is going in for +thoroughbreds. Most of his boys is with him yet, they tell me--" + +"What they doing? Still riding?" Luck let out a long breath and lighted +his cigarette. A little flare of hope had come into his eyes. + +"Riding--yes, what little there is to do. Ranching a little too, and +kicking about changed times, same as I'm doing. Last time I saw that +outfit they was riding, you bet!" The dried little man chuckled, "That +was in Great Falls, some time back. They was all in a contest, and +pulling down the money, too. I was talking to old man Whitmore all one +evening. He was telling me--" + +From away out yonder behind a hill came the throaty call of the coming +train. The dried little man jumped up, mumbled that it did beat all how +time went when yuh got to talking over old days, and hustled two trunks +out of the baggage room. Luck got his grip out of the office, settled +himself into his coat, and took a last, long pull at the cigarette stub +before he threw it away. It was not much of a clue that he had fallen +upon by chance, but Luck was not one to wait until he was slapped in the +face with a fact. He had intended swinging back through Arizona, where in +certain parts cattle still were wild enough to bunch up at sight of a man +afoot. His questioning of the dried little man had not been born of any +concrete purpose, but of the range man's plaint in the abstract. Still-- + +"Say, brother, what's the Flying U's home town?" he called after the +dried little man with his amiable, Southern drawl. + +"Huh? Dry Lake. Yuh taking this train?" + +"So long--taking it for a ways, yes." Luck hurried down to where a +kinky-haired porter stood apathetically beside the steps of his coach. +Dry Lake? He had never heard of the place, but he could find out from the +railroad map or the conductor. He swung his grip into the waiting hand of +the porter and went up the steps hurriedly. He meant to find out where +Dry Lake was, and whether this train would take him there. + + + + +CHAPTER TWO + +"WHERE THE CATTLE ROAMED IN THOUSANDS, A-MANY A HERD AND BRAND ..."--_Old +Range Song_. + + +If you are at all curious over the name to which Luck Lindsay answered +unhesitatingly,--his very acceptance of it proving his willingness to be +so identified,--I can easily explain. Some nicknames have their origin in +mystery; there was no mystery at all surrounding the name men had +bestowed upon Lucas Justin Lindsay. In the first place, his legal +cognomen being a mere pandering to the vanity of two grandfathers who had +no love for each other and so must both be mollified, never had appealed +to Luck or to any of his friends. Luck would have been grateful for any +nickname that would have wiped Lucas Justin from the minds of men. But +the real reason was a quirk in Luck's philosophy of life. Anything that +he greatly desired to see accomplished, he professed to leave to chance. +He would smile his smile, and lift his shoulders in the Spanish way he +had learned in Mexico and the Philippines, and say: "That's as luck will +have it. _Quien sabe_?" Then he would straightway go about bringing the +thing to pass by his own dogged efforts. Men fell into the habit of +calling him Luck, and they forgot that he had any other name; so there +you have it, straight and easily understandable. + +As luck would have it, then,--and no pun intended, please,--he found +himself en route to Dry Lake without any trouble at all; a mere matter of +one change of trains and very close connections, the conductor told him. +So Luck went out and found a chair on the observation platform, and gave +himself up to his cigar and to contemplation of the country they were +gliding through. What he would find at Dry Lake to make the stop worth +his while did not worry him; he left that to the future and to the god +Chance whom he professed to serve. He was doing his part; he was going +there to find out what the place held for him. If it held nothing but a +half dozen ex-cow-punchers hopelessly tamed and turned farmers, why, +there would probably be a train to carry him further in his quest. He +would drop down into Wyoming and Arizona and New Mexico,--just keep going +till he did find the men he wanted. That was Luck's way. + +The shadows grew long and spread over the land until the whole vast +country lay darkling under the coming night. Luck went in and ate his +dinner, and came back again to smoke and stare and dream. There was a +moon now that silvered the slopes and set wide expanses shimmering. + +Luck, always more or less a dreamer, began to people the plain with the +things that had been but were no more: with buffalo and with Indians who +camped on the trail of the big herds. He saw their villages, the tepees +smoke-grimed and painted with symbols, some of them, huddled upon a knoll +out there near the timber line. He heard the tom-toms and he saw the +rhythmic leaping and treading, the posing and gesturing of the braves who +danced in the firelight the tribal Buffalo Dance. + +After that he saw the coming of the cattle, driven up from the south by +wind-browned, saddle-weary cowboys who sang endless chanteys to pass the +time as they rode with their herds up the long trail. He saw the cattle +humped and drifting before the wind in the first blizzards of winter, +while gray wolves slunk watchfully here and there, their shaggy coats +ruffled by the biting wind. He saw them when came the chinook, a howling, +warm wind from out the southwest, cutting the snowbanks as with a knife +that turned to water what it touched, and laying bare the brown grass +beneath. He saw the riders go out with the wagons to gather the +lank-bodied, big-kneed calves and set upon them the searing mark of their +owner's iron. + +Urged by the spell of the dried little man's plaintive monologue, the old +range lived again for Luck, out there under the moon, while the train +carried him on and on through the night. + +What a picture it all would make--the story of those old days as they +had been lived by men now growing old and bent. With all the cheap, +stagy melodrama thrown to one side to make room for the march of that +bigger drama, an epic of the range land that would be at once history, +poetry, realism! + +Luck's cigar went out while he sat there and wove scene after scene of +that story which should breathe of the real range land as it once had +been. It could be done--that picture. Months it would take in the making, +for it would swing through summer and fall and winter and spring. With +the trail-herd going north that picture should open--the trail-herd +toiling over big, unpeopled plains, with the riders slouched in their +saddles, hat brims pulled low over eyes that ached with the glare of the +sun and the sweep of wind, their throats parched in the dust cloud flung +upward from the marching, cloven hoofs. Months it would take in the +making,--but sitting there with the green tail-lights switching through +cuts and around low hills and out over the level, Luck visioned it all, +scene by scene. Visioned the herd huddled together in the night while the +heavens were split with lightning, and the rain came down in +white-lighted streamers of water. Visioned the cattle humped in the snow, +tails to the biting wind, and the riders plodding with muffled heads bent +to the drive of the blizzard, the fine snow packing full the wrinkles in +their sourdough coats. + +It could be done. He, Luck Lindsay, could do it; in his heart he knew +that he could. In his heart he felt that all of these months--yes, and +years--of picture-making had been but a preparation for this great +picture of the range. All these one-reel pioneer pictures had been merely +the feeble efforts of an apprentice learning to handle the tools of his +craft, the mental gropings of his mind while waiting for this, his big +idea. His work with the Indians was the mere testing and trying of +certain photographic effects, certain camera limitations. He felt like an +athlete taught and trained and tempered and just stepping out now for the +big physical achievement of his life. + +He grew chilled as the night advanced, but he did not know that he was +cold. He was wondering, as a man always wonders in the face of an +intellectual birth, why this picture had not come to him before; why he +had gone on through these months and years of turning out reel upon reel +of Western pictures, with never once a glimmering of this great epic of +the range land; why he had clung to his Indians and his one-reel Indian +pictures with now and then a three-reel feature to give him the elation +of having achieved something; why he had left them feeling depressedly +that his best work was in the past; why he had looked upon real range-men +as a substitute only for those lean-bodied bucks and those fat, +stupid-eyed squaws and dirty papooses. + +With the spell of his vision deep upon his soul, Luck sat humiliated +before his blindness. The picture he saw as he stared out across the +moonlit plain was so clean-cut, so vivid, that he marvelled because he +had never seen it until this night. Perhaps, if the dried little man had +not talked of the old range-- + +Luck took a long breath and flung his cigar out over the platform rail. +The dried little man? Why, just as he stood he was a type! He was the Old +Man who owned this herd that should trail north and on through scene +after scene of the picture! No make-up needed there to stamp the sense of +reality upon the screen. Luck looked with the eye of his imagination and +saw the dried little man climbing, with a stiffness that could not hide +his accustomedness, into the saddle. He saw him ride out with his men, +scattering his riders for the round-up; the old cowman making sharper the +contrast of the younger men, fixing indelibly upon the consciousness of +those who watched that this same dried little man had grown old in the +saddle; fixing indelibly the fact that not in a day did the free ranging +of cattle grow to be one of the nation's great industries. + +Of a sudden Luck got up and stood swaying easily to the motion of the car +while he took a long, last look at the moon-bathed plain where had been +born his great, beautiful picture. He stretched his arms as does one who +has slept heavily, and went inside and down to the beginning of the +narrow aisle where were kept telegraph forms in their wooden-barred +niches in the wall. He went into the smoking compartment and wrote, with +a sureness that knew no crossed-out words, a night letter to the dried +little man who had sat on the baggage truck and talked of the range. And +this is what went speeding back presently to the dried little man who +slept in a cabin near the track and dreamed, perhaps, of following the +big herds: + + +Baggage man, +Sioux, N.D. + +Report at once to me at Dry Lake. Can offer you good position Acme Film +Company, good salary working in big Western picture. Small part, some +riding among real boys who know range life. Want you bad as type of +cowman owning cattle in picture. Salary and expenses begin when you show +up. For references see Indian Agent. + +LUCK LINDSAY, +Dry Lake, Mont. + + +If you count, you will see that he ran eight words over the limit of the +flat rate on night letters, but he would have over-run the limit by +eighty words just as quickly if he had wanted to say so much. That was +Luck's way. Be it a telegram, instructions to his company, or a quarrel +with some one who crossed him, Luck said what he wanted to say--and paid +the price without blinking. + +I don't know what the dried little man thought when the operator +handed him that message the next morning; but I can tell you in a few +words what he did: He arrived in Dry Lake just two trains behind Luck. + +Luck did not sleep that night. He lay in his berth with the shade pushed +up as high as it would go, and stared out at the tamed plain, and +perfected the details of his Big Picture. Into the spell of the range he +wove a story of human love and human hate and danger and trouble. So it +must be, to carry his message to the world who would look and marvel at +what he would show them in the drama of silence. He had not named his +picture yet. The name would come in its own good time, just as the +picture had come when the time for its making was ripe. + +The next day he did not talk with the men whose elbows he touched in the +passing intimacy of travel; though Luck was a companionable soul who was +much given to talking and to seeing his listeners grow to an +audience,--an appreciative audience that laughed much while they listened +and frowned upon interruption. Instead, he sat silent in his seat, since +on this train there was no observation car, and he stared out of the +window without seeing much of what passed before his eyes, and made notes +now and then, and covered all the margins of his time-table with figures +that had to do with film. Once, I know, he blackened his two front teeth +with pencil tappings while he visualized a stampede and the probable +amount of footage it would require, and debated whether it should be +"shot" with two cameras or three to get scenes from different angles. A +stampede it should be,--a real stampede of fear-frenzied range cattle in +the mad flight of terror; not a bunch of galloping tame cows urged to +foreground by shouting and rock-throwing from beyond the side lines of +the scene. It would be hard to get, and it could not be rehearsed before +the camera was turned on it. Luck decided that it should be shot from +three angles, at least, and if he could manage it he would have a +"panoram" of the whole thing from a height. + +The porter came apologetically with his big whisk broom and told Luck +that they would all presently be gazing at Dry Lake, or words which +carried that meaning. So Luck permitted himself to be whisked from a half +dollar while his thoughts were "in the field" with his camera men and +company, shooting a real stampede from various angles and trying to +manage so that the dust should not obscure the scene. After a rain--of +course! Just after a soaking rain, he thought, while he gathered up his +time-table and a magazine that held his precious figures, and followed +the porter out to the vestibule while the train slowed. + +It was in this mood that Luck descended to the Dry Lake depot platform +and looked about him. He had no high expectation of finding here what he +sought. He was simply making sure, before he left the country behind him, +that he had not "overlooked any bets." His mind was open to conviction +even while it was prepared against disappointment; therefore his eyes +were as clear of any prejudice as they were of any glamour. He saw things +as they were. + +On the side track, then, stood a string of cars loaded with wool, as his +nose told him promptly. Farms there were none, but that was because the +soil was yellow and pebbly and barren where it showed in great bald spots +here and there; you would not expect to raise cabbages where a prairie +dog had to forage far for a living. Behind the depot, the prairie humped +a huge, broad shoulder of bluff wrinkled along the forward slope of it +like the folds of a full fashioned skirt. There, too, the soil was +bare,--clipped to the very grass roots by hundreds upon hundreds of +hungry sheep whose wool, very likely, was crowding those cars upon the +siding. Luck wasted neither glances nor thought upon the scene. Dry Lake +was like many, many other outworn "cow towns" through which he had +passed; changed without being bettered; all of the old life taken out of +it in the process of its taming. + +He threw his grip into the waiting, three-seated spring wagon that served +as a hotel bus, climbed briskly after it, and glanced ahead to where he +saw the age-blackened boards of the stockyards. Cattle--and then came the +sheep. So runs the epitaph of the range, and it was written plainly +across Dry Lake and its surroundings. + +They went up a dusty trail and past the yawning wings of the stockyards +where a bunch of sheep blatted now in the thirst of mid-afternoon. They +stopped before the hotel where, in the old days, many a town-hungry +puncher had set his horse upon its haunches that he might dismount in a +style to match his eagerness. Luck climbed out and stood for a minute +looking up and down the sandy street that slept in the sun and dreamed, +it may be, of rich, unforgotten moments when the cow-punchers had come +in off the range and stirred the sluggish town to a full, brief life +with their rollicking. Across the street was Rusty Brown's place, with +its narrow porch deserted of loafers and its windows blinking at the +street with a blankness that belied the things they had looked upon in +bygone times. + +A less experienced man than Luck would have been convinced by now that +here was no place to go seeking "real boys." But Luck had been a range +man himself before he took to making motion pictures; he knew range towns +as he knew men,--which was very well indeed. He looked, as he stood +there, not disgusted but mildly speculative. Two horses were tied to the +hitching rail before Rusty Brown's place. These horses bore saddles and +bridles, and, if you know the earmarks, you can learn a good deal about a +rider just by looking at his outfit. Neither saddle was new, but both +gave evidence of a master's pride in his gear. They were well-preserved +saddles. They had the conservative swell of fork that told Luck almost to +a year how old they were. One, he judged, was of California make, or at +least came from the extreme southwest of the cattle country. It had a +good deal of silver on it, and the tapideros were almost Mexican in their +elaborateness. The bridle on that horse matched the saddle, and the +headstall was beautiful with silver kept white and clean. The rope coiled +and tied beside the saddle fork was of rawhide. (Luck did not need to +cross the street to be sure of these details; observation was a part of +his profession.) The other saddle was the kind most favored on the +northern range. Short, round skirts, open stirrups, narrow and rimmed +with iron. Stamped with a two-inch border of wild rose design, it pleased +Luck by its very simplicity. The rope was a good "grass" rope worn smooth +and hard with much use. + +Luck flipped a match stub out into the dust of the street, tilted his +small Stetson at an angle over his eyes, went over to the horses, and +looked at their brands which had been hidden from him. One was a Flying +U, and the other bore a blurred monogram which he did not trouble to +decipher. He turned on his heels and went into Rusty's place. + +On his way to the bar he cast an appraising glance around the room and +located his men. Here, too, a less experienced man might have +blundered. One, known to his fellows as the Native Son, would scarcely +be mistaken; his dress, too, evidently matched the silver-trimmed +saddle outside. But Andy Green, in blue overalls turned up five inches +at the bottom, and somewhat battered gray hat and gray chambray shirt, +might have been almost any type of outdoor man. Certain it is that few +strangers would have guessed that he was one of the best riders in that +part of the State. + +Luck bought a couple of good cigars, threw away his cigarette and lighted +one, set the knuckles of his left hand upon his hip, and sauntered over +to the pool table where the two men he wanted to meet were languidly +playing out their third string. He watched them for a few minutes, smiled +sympathetically when Andy Green made a scratch and swore over it, and +backed out of the way of the Native Son, who sprawled himself over the +table corner and did not seem to know or to care how far the end of his +cue reached behind him. + +Luck did not say a word to either; but Andy, noting the smile of +sympathy, gave him a keenly attentive glance as he came up to that end of +the table to empty a corner pocket. He fished out the four and the nine, +juggled them absently in his hand, and turned and looked at Luck again, +straight and close. Luck once more smiled his smile. + +"No, I don't believe you know me, brother," he said, answering Andy's +unspoken thought. "I'd have remembered you if I'd ever met you. You may +have seen me in a picture somewhere." + +"By gracious, are you the little fellow that drove a stage coach and six +horses down off a grade--" + +"That's my number, old-timer." Luck's smile widened to a grin. That had +been a hair-lifting scene, and Andy Green was not the first stranger to +walk up and ask him if he had driven that stage coach and six horses down +off a mountain grade into a wide gulch to avoid being held up and the +regulation box of gold stolen. It was probably the most spectacular thing +Luck had ever done. "Got down that bank fine as silk," he volunteered +companionably, "and then when I'd passed camera and was outa the scene, +by thunder, I tangled up with a deep chuck-hole that was grown over with +weeds, and like to have broken my fool neck. How's that for luck?" He +took the cigar from his lips and smiled again with half-closed, measuring +eyes. "Yes, sir, I just plumb spoiled one perfectly good Concord coach, +and would have been playing leading corpse at a funeral, believe me, if I +hadn't strapped myself to the seat for that drive off the grade. As it +was, I hung head down and cussed till one of the boys cut me loose. Where +did you see the picture?" + +"Me? Up in the Falls. Say, I'm glad to meet you. Luck Lindsay's your +name, ain't it? I remember you were called that in the picture. Mine's +Green, Andy Green,--when folks don't call me something worse. And this is +Miguel Rapponi, a whole lot whiter than he sounds. What, for Lordy sake, +you wasting time on this little old hasbeen burg for? Take it from me, +there ain't anything left here but dents in the road and a brimstone +smell. We're all plumb halter-broke and so tame we--" + +"You look all right to me, brother," Luck told him in that convincing +tone he had. + +"Well, same to you," Andy retorted with a frank heartiness he was not in +the habit of bestowing upon strangers. "I feel as if I'd worked with you. +Pink was with me when we saw that picture, and we both hollered 'Go to +it!' right out loud, when you gathered up the ribbons and yanked off the +brake and went off hell-popping and smiling back over your shoulder at +us. It was your size and that smile of yours that made me remember you. +You looked like a kid when you mounted to the boot; and you drove down +off smiling, and you had one helanall of a trip, and you drove off that +grade looking like you was trying to commit suicide and was smiling still +when you pulled up at the post-office. By gracious, I--" + +Luck gave a little chuckle deep in his throat. "I did all that smiling +the day before I drove off the grade," he confessed, looking from one +to the other. "I don't guess I'd have smiled quite so sweet, maybe, if +I'd waited." + +"Is that the way you make moving pictures, hind-side-foremost?" Andy, his +back to the table, lifted himself over the rim to a comfortable seat and +began to make himself a cigarette. + +"Yes, or both ways from the middle, just as it happens." Luck was always +ready to talk pictures. "In that stage-driver picture I made all the +scenes before I made that drive,--for two reasons. Biggest one was that I +wanted to be sure of having it all made, in case something went wrong on +that feature drive; get me? Other was plain, human bullheadedness. Some +of the four-flushers I was cursed with in the company,--because they were +cheap and I had to balance up what I was paying the Injuns,--they kept +eyeing that bluff where I said I'd come down with the coach, and betting +I wouldn't, and talking off in corners about me just stalling. I just let +'em sweat. I made the start, and I made the finish. I drove right to +where I looked down off the pinnacle--remember?--and saw the outlaw gang +at the foot of the grade; I made all the 'dissolves,' and where I went +back and captured 'em and brought 'em in to camp. But I didn't drive off +the grade into the gulch till last thing, as luck would have it. Good +thing, too. That old coach was sure some busted, and I wasn't doing any +more smiles till I grew some hide." + +Andy Green licked his cigarette and let his honest gray eyes wander from +Luck to the darkly handsome face of the Native Son. "Sounds most as +exciting as holding down a homestead, anyway. Don't you think so, Mig? +And say! It's sure a pity we can't put off some things in real life till +we get all set and ready to handle 'em!" + +"That's right." Luck's face sobered as the idea caught his imagination. +"That's dead right; how well I know it!" + +Andy smoked and swung his feet and regarded Luck with interest. "It's +against my religious principles to go poking my nose into the other +fellow's business," he said after a minute, "but I'm wondering if there's +anything in this God-forsaken country to bring a fellow like you here +deliberate. I'm wondering if you meant to stop, or if you just leaned too +far out the car window on your way through town." + +For a half minute Luck looked up at him. He had expected a preparatory +winning of the confidence of the men whom he sought. He had planned to +lead up gradually to his mission, in case he found his men. But in that +half minute he threw aside his plan as a weak, puerile wasting of time, +and he answered Andy Green truthfully. + +"No, I didn't fall off the train," he drawled. "I just grabbed my grip +and beat it when they told me where I was. I'm out on a still hunt for +some real boys. Some that can ride and shoot and that know cow-science so +well they don't have to glad up in cowboy clothes and tie red bandanna +bibs on to make folks think they're range broke." + +"And yet you're wasting time in this tame little granger wart on the +map!" + +"No, not wasting time," smiled Luck serenely. "A little old trunk-juggler +up the trail told me about the Flying U outfit that is still sending +their wagons out when the grass gets green. I stopped off to give the +high-sign to the boys, and say howdy, and swap yarns, and maybe haze some +of 'em gently into camp. I wanted to see if the Flying U has got any real +ones left." + +Andy Green looked eloquently at the Native Son. "Now, what do you know +about that, Mig?" he breathed softly behind a mouthful of smoke. "Wanting +to rope him out a few from the Flying U bunch. Say! Have you got a real +puncher amongst that outfit of long-haired hayseeds?" + +The Native Son shook his head negligently and gave Luck a velvet-eyed +glance of friendly pity. + +"If there is, he's ranging deep in the breaks and never shows up at +shipping time," he averred. "I've never seen one myself. They've got one +that--what would you call Big Medicine, if you wanted to name him quick +and easy, Andy?" + +Andy frowned. "What I'd call him had best not be named in this +God-fearing little hamlet," he responded gloomily. "I sure would never +name him in the day I talked about cow-punchers that's ever dug sand outa +their eyes on trail-herd." + +The Native Son, still with the velvet-eyed look of pity, turned to Luck. +"Andy's right," he sighed. "They've got one that takes spells of talking +deliriously about when he punched cows in Coconino County; but I guess +there's nothing to it." + +"You say you was told that the Flying U outfit has got some real ones?" +Andy eyed Luck curiously and with some of the Native Son's pity. "Just in +a general way, what happens to folks that lie to you deliberate, when you +meet 'em again? I'd like," he added, "to know about how sorry to feel for +that baggage humper when you see him--after meeting the Flying U bunch." + +The soul of Luck Lindsay was singing an impromptu doxology, but the face +of him--so well was that face trained to do his bidding--became tinged +with disgust and disappointment. With two "real boys" he was talking; he +knew them by the unconscious range vernacular and the perfect candor with +which they lied to him about themselves. But not so much as a gleam of +the eye betrayed to them that he knew. + +"So that's why he went off grinning so wide," he mused aloud. "I was sure +caught then with my gun at home on the piano. I might have known better +than to look for the real thing here, though you fellows have a few +little marks that haven't worn off yet." + +"Me? Why, I'm a farmer, and I'm married, and I'm in a deuce of a stew +because my spuds is drying up on me and no way to get water on 'em +without I carry it to 'em in a jug," disclaimed Andy Green hastily. "All +I know about punchers I learned from seeing picture shows when I go to +town. Now, Mig, here--". + +"Oh, don't go and reveal all of my guilty past," protested the Native +Son. "Those three days I spent at a wild-west carnival show have about +worked outa my system. I'm still trying to wear out the clothes I won off +some of the boys in a crap game," he explained to Luck apologetically, +"but my earmarks won't outlast the clothes, believe me." + +Luck thoughtfully flicked the ash collar off his cigar. "It won't be any +use then to go out to the Flying U, I suppose," he observed tentatively, +his eyes keen for their changing expressions. "I may as well take the +next train out, I reckon, and drift on down into Arizona and New Mexico. +I know about where some real punchers range--but I thought there was no +harm in looking up the pedigree of this Flying U outfit. I'm sure some +obliged to you boys for heading me off." Back of his eyes there was a +laugh, but Andy Green and the Native Son were looking queerly at each +other and did not see it there. + +"Oh, well, now you're this close, you wouldn't be losing anything by +going on out to the ranch, anyway," Andy recanted guardedly. "Come to +think of it, there's one regular old-time ranger out there. They call him +Slim. He's sure a devil on a horse--Slim is. I'd forgot about him when I +spoke. He's a ranger, all right." + +Luck knew very well that Andy Green had used the word "ranger" with the +deliberate attempt to appear ignorant of the terminology of the range. A +cow-puncher comes a long way from being a ranger, as every one knows. A +ranger is a man of another profession entirely. + +"It used to be a real cattle ranch, they tell me," added the Native Son +artfully. "We live out near there, and if you wanted to ride out--" + +Luck appeared undecided. He sucked at his cigar, and he blew out the +smoke thoughtfully, and contemplated the toe of one neat, tan shoe. Just +plain acting, it was; just a playing of his part in the little game they +had started. Better than if they had boasted of their range knowledge and +their prowess in the saddle did Luck know that the dried little man had +told him the truth. He knew that at the Flying U he would find a remnant +of the old order of things. He would find some real boys, if these two +were a fair sample of the bunch. That they lied to him about themselves +and their fellows was but a sign that they accepted him as one of their +breed. He looked them over with gladdened eyes. He listened to the +unconscious tang of the range that was in their talk. These two farmers? +He could have laughed aloud at the idea. + +"Well, I might get some atmosphere ideas," he said at last. "If you don't +mind having me trail along--" + +"Glad to have yuh!" came an instant duet. + +"And if I can scare up a horse--" + +"Oh, we'll look after that. You can come right on out with us. The +boys'll be plumb tickled to death to meet you." + +"Are they all farmers, same as you--these boys you mention?" Luck looked +up into Andy's eyes when he asked the question. + +Andy grinned. "Farmers, yes--same as us!" he said ambiguously and picked +up his gloves as he turned to lead the way out. + + + + +CHAPTER THREE + +AND THEY SIGH FOR THE DAYS THAT ARE GONE + + +Just when Luck's new acquaintances first forgot to carry on their +whimsical pretense of knowing little of range matters, neither of them +could have told afterwards. They left town with the tacit understanding +between them that they were going to have some fun with the Happy Family +and with this likable little man of the movies. They rode out between +long lines of hated barbed wire stretched taut, and they lied +systematically and consistently to Luck Lindsay about themselves and +their fellows and their particular condition of servitude to fate. + +But somewhere along the trail they forgot to carry on the deception; and +only Luck could have told why they forgot, and when they forgot, and how +it was that, ten miles or so out from town, the two were telling how the +Flying U had fought to save itself from extinction; how the "bunch" had +schemed and worked and had in a measure succeeded in turning aside the +tide of immigration from the Flying U range. Big issues they talked of as +they rode three abreast through the warm haze of early fall; and as they +talked, Luck's mind visioned the tale vividly, and his eyes swept the +fence-checkered upland with a sympathetic understanding. + +"Right here," said Andy at last, when they came up to a gate set across +the trail, "right here is where we drawed the line--and held it. Now, +half of those shacks you see speckled around are empty. The rest hold +nesters too poor to get outa the country. One or two, that had a little +money, have stuck and gone into sheep. But from here on to Dry Creek +there's nothing ranging but the Flying U brand. Not much--compared to +what the old range used to be--but still it keeps things going. We +throwed a dam across the coulee, up there next the hills, and there's +some fair hay land we're putting water on. We have to winter-feed +practically everything these days. The range just nicely keeps the stock +from snow to snow. I've got pitchfork callouses on my hands I never will +outgrow if I was to fall heir to a billion dollars and never use my hands +again for fifty years except to feed myself. It takes work, believe me! +And if there's anything on earth a puncher hates worse than work, it's +some other kind of work. + +"At the Flying U," he went on, looking at Luck pensively, "you'll see the +effect of too many people moved into the range country. If there's +anything more distressing than a baby left without a mother, it's a bunch +of cow-punchers that's outlived their range. Ain't that right?" + +"Sure it's right!" Luck's sympathy was absolutely sincere. "How well I +know it! Barbed wire scraped me outa the saddle in Wyoming--barbed wire +and sheep. All there is left for a fellow is to forget it and start a +barber shop or a cigar stand, or else make pictures of the old days, the +way I've been doing. You can get a little fun out of making pictures of +what used to be your everyday life. You can step up on a horse and go +whoopin' over the hills and kinda forget it ain't true." A wistfulness +was in Luck's tone. "You pick out the big minutes from the old days--that +had a whole lot of dust and sun and thirst and hunger in between, when +all's said--you pick out the big minutes, and you bring them to life +again, and sort of push them up close together and leave out most of the +hardships. That's why so many of the old boys drift into pictures, I +reckon. They try to forget themselves in the big minutes." + +The two who rode with him were silent for a space. Then the Native +Son spoke drily: "About the biggest minutes we get now come about +meal times." + +"Oh, we can get down in the breaks on round-up time and kinda forget the +world's fenced clear 'way round it with barb-wire," Andy bettered the +statement. "But round-up gets shorter every year." + +"My next picture," Luck observed artfully and yet with a genuine desire +to unbosom himself a little to these two who would understand, "my next +picture is going to be different. It's going to have a crackajack story +in it, of course, but it will have something more than a story. I'm going +to start it off with a trail herd coming up from Texas. You know--like it +was when we were kids. I'm going to show those cattle trailing along +tired--and footsore, some of them--and a drag strung out behind for a +mile. I'm going to show the punchers tired and hungry, and riding half +asleep in the saddle. And with that for a starter, I'm going to show the +real range; the _real_ range--get that, boys? I'm going to cut clean away +from regulation moving-picture West; clear out away from posses chasing +outlaws all over a ten-acre location. I'm going to find me a real old +cow-ranch; or if I can't find one, by thunder I'm going to _make_ me one. +I'm sick of piling into a machine and driving out into Griffith Park and +hunting a location for shooting scrapes to take place in. I know a place +where I could produce stuff that would make people talk about it for a +month after. Maybe the buildings would need some doctoring, but there's +sure some round-pole corrals that would make your mouth water." + +"We used to have some," sighed Andy, "at the Flying U. But they kinda +went to pieces, and Chip's been replacing them with plank. By gracious, +you don't see many round-pole corrals any more, come to think of it. +There's remains, scattered around over the country." + +"The West--the real honest-to-goodness, twelve-months-in-the-year West," +Luck went on riding his hobby, "has been mighty little used in films. +Ever notice that? It's all gone to shooting, and stealing the full +product of all the gold mines in the world, and killing off more bad men +than the Lord ever sent a flood to punish. For film purposes, the West +consists of one part beautiful maiden in distress, three parts bandit, +and two parts hero. Mix these to taste with plenty of swift action and +gun-smoke, and serve with bandits all dead or handcuffed and beautiful +maiden and hero in lover's embrace on top. That's your film West, +boys--and how well I know it!" Luck stopped to light a cigarette and to +heave a sigh. "I've been building film West to order for four years now, +and more. Only fun I've had, and the best work I've done, I did with a +bunch of Indians I've just taken back to their reservation. For the rest, +it's mostly bunk." + +"Not that stage-driver picture," Andy dissented. "There wasn't any bunk +about that, old-timer. That was some driving!" + +"Some driving, yes. Sure, it was. It was darned good driving, but the +same old story doctored up a little. Same old shipment of gold, same old +bandits lying in wait, same old hero doing stunts. I ought to know," he +added with a grin. "I wrote the story and did the stunts myself." + +"Well, they were some stunts!" admired Andy with unusual sincerity. + +Luck waved aside the compliment and went back to his hobby. "Yes, but the +West isn't just a setting for stunts. I've got my story--here," and he +tapped his forehead, which was broad and full and not too high. "I'm +going to fire my camera man and get a better one, and I'm going to round +me up a bunch of real boys that can get into the story and live it so +well they won't need to do any acting,--boys that can stand a panoram on +their work in the saddle. I've been getting by with a bunch of freaks +that think they're real riders if they can lope a horse up-grade without +falling off backwards. Most of my direction of those actorines has been +knowing to a hair how much footage to give 'em without showing how raw +their work is. + +"They say the public demands a certain grade of rottenness in Western +films, but I never believed that, down deep in my heart. I believe the +public stands for that stuff because they don't see any better. This +four-reeler I've got in mind will sure open the eyes of some +producers--or I'll buy me a five-acre tract in Burbank and raise string +beans for a living." + +"I've got a patch of string beans," sighed the Native Son, "that I've +been sitting up nights with. I don't know what ails the cussed things. +Some kind of little green bug chews on them soon as my back is turned. +They ought to be ripe by now--and they aren't through blossoming. Don't +go into beans, _amigo_." + +Luck looked at him and laughed. The Native Son, in black and white Angora +chaps and cream-colored shirt and silver-filigreed hatband as ornamental +touches to his attire, did not look like a man who was greatly worried +over his crop of string beans while he rode with a negligent grace away +from a glowing sunset. But in these days the West is full of +incongruities. + +"Oh, shut up about them beans!" implored Andy Green with a bored air. +"It's water they want; and a touch of the hoe now and then. You leave 'em +for a month at a time and then go back and wonder why you can't pick a +hatful off 'em. Same as the rest of us have been ranching," he added +ruefully, turning to Luck. "With the best intentions in the world, the +Lord never meant us fellers for farmers, and that's a fact. We'll drop a +hoe any time of day or night to get out riding after stock. Of course, we +didn't take up our claims with the idea of settling down and riding a hoe +handle the rest of our lives. If we had, I guess maybe we'd have done a +little better at it." + +"We did what we started out to do," the Native Son pointed out lazily: +"We saved the range--what little there is to save--and we kept a lot of +poor yaps from starving to death on that land, didn't we?" He smiled +slowly. "If I hadn't gotten gay and planted those beans," he added, "I'd +be feeling fine over it. A girl gave me a handful of pinto beans and +asked me to plant them--I did hoe them," he defended tardily to Andy. "I +hoed them the day before the Fourth. You know I did. Same time you hoed +those lemon-colored spuds of yours." + +Luck let them wrangle humorously over their agricultural deficiencies, +and drifted off into open-eyed dreaming. Into his picture he began to fit +these two speculatively, with a purely tentative adjustment of their +personalities to his requirements. They were arguing about which of the +two was the worst farmer; but Luck, riding alongside them, was seeing +them slouched in their saddles and riding, bone-tired, with a shuffling +trail-herd hurrying to the next watering place. He was seeing them +galloping hard on the flanks of a storm-lashed stampede, with cunningly +placed radium flares lighting the scene brilliantly now and then. He was +seeing these two plodding, heads bent, into the teeth of a blizzard. He +was seeing... + +"I'll have to ride home to the missus now," Andy announced the second +time before Luck heard him. + +"Mig will take you on down to the home ranch, and after supper I'll ride +over. So long." + +He swung away from them upon a faintly beaten trail, looked back once to +grin and wave his hand, and touched his horse with the spurs. Luck stared +after him thoughtfully, but he did not put his thoughts into words. He +had been trained in the hard school of pictures. He had learned to hold +his tongue upon certain matters, such as his opinion of a man's personal +attributes, or criticism of his appearance, or anything which might be +repeated, maliciously or otherwise, to that man. He did not say to Miguel +Rapponi, for instance, what he thought of Andy Green as a man or a rider. +He did not mention him at all. He had learned in bitterness how idle +gossip may eat away the efficiency of a whole company. + +For that reason, and also because his mind was busy with his plans and +the best means of carrying them out, the two rode almost in silence to +the hill that shut the Flying U coulee away from the world. Luck gave a +long sigh and muttered "Great!" when the whole coulee lay spread before +them. Then his quick glances took in various details of the ranch and he +sighed again, from a different emotion. + +"It must have been a great place twenty years ago," he amended his first +unqualified enthusiasm. + +"Why twenty years ago?" The Native Son gave him a quick, +half-resentful glance. + +"Twenty years ago there wasn't so much barb-wire trimming," Luck +explained from the viewpoint of the trained producer of Western pictures. +"You couldn't place a camera anywhere now for a long shot across the +coulee without bringing a fence into the scene. And the log stables are +too old, and the new ones too new." He pulled up and stared long at the +sweep of hills beyond, and the wide spread of the meadow and the big +field farther up stream, and at the lazy meandering of Flying U creek +with its willow fringe just turning yellow with the first touch of +autumn. He looked at the buildings sprawled out below him. + +"When that log house was headquarters for the ranch, and the round-pole +corrals were the only fences on the place," he said; "when those old +sheds held the saddle horses on cold nights, and the wagons were out from +green grass to snowfall, and the boys laid around all winter, just +reportin' regular at grub-pile and catching up on sleep they'd lost in +the summer--Lor-dee, what a place it must have been!" + +There was something in his tone that brought the Native Son for an +instant face to face with the Flying U in the old days when all the range +was free. So, with faces sober, because the old days were gone and would +never any more return, they rode down the grade and up to the new stable +that was a monument to the dead past, even though it might also be a +sign-post pointing to present prosperity. And in this wise came Luck +Lindsay to the Flying U and was made welcome. + + + + +CHAPTER FOUR + +THE LITTLE DOCTOR PROTESTS + + +The Little Doctor stepped out upon the porch with the faint tracing of a +frown upon her smooth forehead, and with that slight tightening of the +lips which to her family meant determination; disapproval sometimes, +tense moments always. + +She stood for a minute looking down toward the stables, and the wind that +blew down the coulee seized upon the scant folds of her skirt, and +flapped them impishly against the silken-clad ankles that were +exceedingly good to look upon,--since fashion has now made it quite +permissible to look upon ankles. Her lips did not relax with the waiting. +Her frown grew a trifle more pronounced. + +"Mr. Lindsay?" with a rising inflection. + +Luck turned his head, saw her standing there, waved his hand to show that +he heard, and started toward her with that brisk, purposeful swing to his +walk that goes with an energetic disposition. The Little Doctor waited, +and watched him, and did not relax a muscle from her determined attitude. +Poor little Luck Lindsay hurried, so as not to keep her standing there in +the wind, and, not knowing just what was before him, he smiled his smile +as he came up to her. + +I should have said, poor Little Doctor. She tried to keep her frown and +the fixed idea that went with it, but she was foolish enough to look down +into Luck's face and into his eyes with their sunny friendliness, and at +the smile, where the friendliness was repeated and emphasized. Before she +quite knew what she was doing, the Little Doctor smiled back. Still, she +owned a fine quality of firmness. + +"Come in here. I want to have it out with you, and be done," she said, +and turned to open the door. + +"Sounds bad, but I'm yours to command," Luck retorted cheerfully, and +went up the steps still smiling. He liked the Little Doctor. She was his +kind of woman. He felt that she would make a good pal, and he knew how +few women are qualified for open comradeship. He cast a side glance at +the kitchen window where the Kid stood with a large slice of bread and +chokecherry jam balanced on his palm, and on his face a look of mental +distress bordered with more jam. Luck nodded and waved his hand, and went +in where the Little Doctor stood waiting for him with a certain ominous +quiet in her manner. Luck shook back his heavy mane of hair that was +graying prematurely, squared his shoulders, and then held out his hand +meekly, palm upward. Boys learn that pose in school, you know. + +"Oh, for pity's sake! If you go and make me laugh--and I am mad enough at +you, Luck Lindsay, to--to blister that palm! If you weren't any bigger +than Claude, I'd shake you and stand you in a corner on one foot." + +"Listen. Shake me, anyway. I believe I'd kinda like it. And while I'm +standing in the corner--on one foot--you can tell me all you're mad +at me for." + +The Little Doctor looked at him, bit her lip, and then found that her +eyes were blurred so that his face seemed to waver and grow dim. And Luck +Lindsay, because he saw the tears, laid a hand on her shoulder, and +pushed her ever so gently into a chair. + +"Tell me what's worrying you. If it's anything that I have done, I'll +have one of the boys take me out and shoot me; it's what I would deserve. +But I certainly can't think of anything--" + +"Do you know that you have filled little Claude's mind up with stories +about moving pictures till he's just crazy? He told me just now that he's +going with you when you go back, and act in your company. And if I won't +let him go, he said, he'd run away and 'hit a freight-train outa Dry +Lake,' and get to California, anyway. And--he'd do it, too! He's +perfectly awful when he gets an idea in his head. I know he's +spoiled--all the boys pet him so--" + +"Wait. Let's get this thing straight. Do you think for one minute, Mrs. +Bennett, that I'd coax the Kid away? Say, that hurts--to have you believe +that of me." There was no smile anywhere on Luck's face now. His eyes +were as pained as his voice sounded. + +Once more the Little Doctor weakened before him. She believed what he +said, though five minutes before she had believed exactly the opposite. +In her mind she had accused him of coaxing the Kid. She had fully +intended accusing him of it to his face. + +"I don't mean coax, perhaps. But--" + +"Listen. If the Kid has got that notion, I'm more sorry than you can +guess. Of course, I think pictures and I talk pictures; I admit I make +them in my sleep. And the boys are interested. Those that are going back +with me and those that are not are always sicking me at the subject. I +admit that I sick easy," he added with a whimsical lightening of the +eyes. "And the Kid and I are pals. I like him, Mrs. Bennett. He's got the +stuff in him to make a real man--and I wouldn't call him spoiled, +exactly. He's always been with grown-ups, and his mind has developed away +ahead of the calendar; you see what I mean? He's nine, he tells me--" + +"Only eight. He always tries to make himself older than he is," the +Little Doctor corrected quickly. + +"Well, he's some boy! And kids somehow take to me; I guess it's because +I'm always chumming with them. He's been taking in everything that has +been said; I could see that. But I surely never talked to him in the way +you mean." + +The Little Doctor looked at him and hesitated; but she was a frank young +woman, and she could not help speaking her mind. "You mustn't take it +personally at all," she said, "if I tell you that I am disappointed in +the boys; in Andy and Rosemary especially, because they ought to +appreciate the little home they have made, and stay with it. One sort of +expects Pink and Big Medicine and Weary to do outlandish things. They +haven't really grown up, and they never will. But I am disappointed, just +the same, that they should want to go performing around and shooting +blank cartridges and making clowns of themselves for moving pictures. +Still, that's their own business, of course, if they want to be silly +enough to do it. But now little Claude has taken the fever--and I wish, +Mr. Lindsay, you could do something to--" She stopped, but not because +what she said was hurting Luck's feelings. She did not know that she hurt +him at all. + +"It seems to be worse, in your estimation, than exposing the Kid to +yellow fever," Luck observed quietly. + +"Well, of course you can understand that I should not want a boy of +mine to--to be all taken up with the idea of acting cowboy parts for a +moving picture." + +"Still, there are some fairly decent people in the business," Luck +pointed out still more quietly, and got upon his feet. He had no smile +now for the Little Doctor, though he was still gentle in his manner. "I +see what you mean, Mrs. Bennett. I understand you perfectly. I shall do +what I can to repair the damage to the Kid's character and ideals, and I +want to thank you for coming to me in this matter. Otherwise I might have +gone against your wishes without knowing that I was doing so." For two +breaths or three he held her glance with something that looked out of his +eyes; the Little Doctor did not know what it was. "You see, Mrs. Bennett, +you don't quite understand what you are talking about," he added. "You +have not had the opportunity to understand, of course. But I agree with +you that the Kid's place is at home, and I shall certainly have a talk +with him." + +He moved to the door, laid a fine, well-kept hand upon the knob, and +looked at her with a faint smile that had behind it a good deal that +puzzled the Little Doctor. "Don't worry one minute," he said, dropping +his punctilious politeness of the minute before, and becoming again the +intensely human Luck Lindsay. "I 'heap sabe.' I've certainly corrupted +the morals and ambitions of some of the boys--looking at it the way you +do--but I promise to check the devastation right where it's at, and save +your only son." He turned then and went out. + +The Little Doctor paid him the tribute of hurrying to the window where +she could watch him go down the path. In his walk, in the set of his +head, there was still something that puzzled her. She hoped that he was +not offended, and she thankfully remembered a good deal that she had left +unsaid. She saw him turn and beckon, and then wait until the Kid had +joined him from the kitchen. She saw the greeting he gave the Kid, and +the adoration on the Kid's face when he looked up at Luck. The two went +away together, and the Little Doctor watched them dubiously. What if the +Kid should run away? He had done it once, and it was well within the +probabilities that he might do it again, if this present obsession of his +were not handled just right. The Kid, she had long ago discovered, could +not be driven,--and there were times when he could not be coaxed. + +Luck had been just three days at the Flying U. In those three days he had +fitted himself into the place so well that even old Patsy, the cook, +called him "Look" as easily as though he had been doing it for years; and +Patsy, you must know, was fast acquiring the querulousness of an old age +that does not sweeten with the passing years. Patsy had discovered that +Luck liked his eggs fried on both sides, and thereafter he painstakingly +turned three eggs bottomside up in the frying pan every morning; three +and no more, though Cal Emmett remarked pointedly that he had always +liked his eggs fried and flopped. + +Three days, and the Old Man frequently left his big, soft-cushioned +chair, and went slowly down to the bunk-house whence came much laughter, +and listened to the stories that Luck told so well,--with one arm around +the unashamed Kid, very likely, while he talked. + +True, they had ranches of their own, those boys of the Flying U. But if +you wanted to find them in a hurry, it were wise to ride first into +Flying U coulee. That was headquarters, and that was home and always +would be; even Andy Green, who was happily married, brought his wife and +stayed there days at a time, with small excuse for the coming. + +In three days, then, Luck had chosen his men from among the Happy Family, +and had convinced them that their future welfare and happiness depended +upon their going back with him to Los Angeles. In three days he had +accomplished a good deal; but then, Luck was in the habit of crowding his +days with achievement of one sort or another. As a matter of fact, the +third day he had looked upon as one given solely to the pleasure of +staying at the Flying U while the boys completed their arrangements for +leaving with him. He had done all that he had planned to do, and he was +in a very good humor with the world, or he had been until the Little +Doctor had made his pride writhe under her innocent belittlement of his +vocation. To have her boy work in pictures would be a calamity in her +eyes; in Luck's eyes it would be an honor, provided he did the right kind +of work in the right kind of pictures. + +Luck's own personal opinion, however, did not weigh in this case. He had +promised the Little Doctor that he would erase the impression he had made +upon the Kid's too vivid imagination; so he led him to a retired place +where they would be sheltered from the wind by a great stack of alfalfa +hay, and he began in this wise: + +"Old-timer, you're the luckiest boy I've seen in all my travels,--growing +up here on the Flying U, with a mother like you've got, and a dad like +Chip, and a ranch like this to get the swing of while you're growing; so +that in another five years I expect you'll be running it yourself, and +your folks will be larking around having the good time they've earned +while they were raising you. I'll bet--" + +"So Doctor Dell went and got around you, did she? I knew that was why she +called you into the sett'n room. Forget it, Luck." The Kid spat manfully +into the trodden hay, and pushed his small-size Stetson back so that his +curls showed, and set his feet as far apart as was comfortable. "I knew +she would," he added with weary wisdom in his tone. "Doctor Dell can get +around anybody when she takes a notion." + +Luck held his face from smiling. He looked surprised, and disappointed in +the Kid, and sorry for the Kid's parents. At least, he made the Kid feel +that he was thinking all these things, which proves how well one may +master the art of facial expression. He did not say a word; therefore he +put the Kid upon the defensive and set his young wits to devising +arguments in his favor. + +"A woman never knows when a fellow begins to grow up. Doctor Dell is the +nicest girl in the world, but she needn't think I'm a baby yet. I can +ride a buckin' horse, and I went on round-up last spring--and made a +hand, too! I can swing a rope as good as any of the bunch; you seen me +whirl a loop and jump through it, and there's more stunts than that I +can do--it was dinner time, so I had to quit before I showed you." The +Kid paused. He had not yet produced any effect whatever upon that +surprised, pitying, disappointed look in Luck's face, and the Kid began +to feel worried. + +"Well, I was just bluffing when I said I'd run away--if she told you +that." He stopped; the look was still there, only it now seemed to have +contempt added to it. "I don't say I know more'n anybody on the ranch, +and I don't say I'm boss of the ranch yet. I do what they tell me, even +when I know there ain't any sense in it. I humor Doctor Dell a whole +lot!" Could he never get that look off Luck's face? The Kid searched his +soul anxiously. You couldn't go on arguing with that kind of a look; it +made you feel like you'd been stealing sheep. "Oh, well, if you won't +talk to a feller--" The Kid did not turn away quite soon enough to hide +the quiver of his lips. Luck reached out and took a small, grimy hand +and pulled the Kid nearer; near enough so that his arm could go around +the Kid's quivering body. He held him close, and the Kid did not +struggle. He dropped his face against Luck's shoulder, and began to +fight back his tears. + +"Listen, pardner," said Luck softly, one hand caressing the Kid's cheek. +"You and I ought to sabe each other better than most folks, because we're +pals. Now, I want you to go with me a heap more than you want to go; just +tuck that away in your mind where you won't lose it. I want you, but I +wouldn't have you without Doctor Dell's free and willing consent. I need +you for my pal; and I could teach you a lot that would be useful to you. +But they need you a whole lot worse than I do. They've been taking care +of you and loving you and planning for you all these eight years, just +watching you grow, and being proud of you because you're what they want +you to be: husky and healthy and good all the way through. You couldn't +go off and leave them now; it wouldn't be right. And, pard, you need them +even worse than they need you. I know,--because I had to grow up without +any one to love me and look after me; and believe me, old pal, it isn't +any cinch. It's just pure luck that I didn't get killed off or go bad. +Now, I'd be good to you, if I had you with me, and so would the boys; but +we couldn't take the place of Doctor Dell and Daddy Chip. + +"I've talked pictures too much to you. I didn't know how it was hitting +you, or how much you wanted to go. But listen. If I had the chance you've +got here,--if I had a ranch like this, and cattle, and horses, and a +father and mother and uncle like you've got,--I never would look a camera +in the eye again as long as I live. That's straight, old-timer. Why, I'm +working my head off trying to get enough ahead so that I can have a ranch +of my own! So I can slap a saddle on a horse that carries my brand, and +ride out after my cattle, and haze them into my corral; so I can have a +home that is mine. I never did have one, pardner,--not since I was a heap +smaller than you are now,--and a home of his own is what every man wants +most, down deep in his heart. + +"It looks fine to be traveling around, and making moving pictures. It is +fine if you are cut out for that kind of work, and have got to be working +for somebody else to get your start. But remember, pard, I am working and +scheming and planning to get just what you've got already. You, a kid +eight years old, stand right where I'd give all I've got to stand. You'll +own your own ranch and your own home. You've got folks that love you--not +because you hand out the pay envelope on a certain day of the week, but +because you belong to them, and they belong to you. Kid, I'm thirty-two +years old--and I've never known what that felt like. I have never known +what it was like to have some one plan for me and with me, unless they +were paid for it." + +The Kid stood very still. "You could live here," he lifted his head to +say gravely after a little silence that was full of thought. "This can be +your home. You can be one of the Happy Family. We'd like to have you." + +There was something queer in Luck's voice when he murmured a reply. There +was something in his face which no one but the Kid had ever seen. The +Kid's arm crept around Luck's neck, and tightened there and stayed. +Luck's hand went up to the curls and hovered there caressingly. And they +talked, in tones lowered to the cadence of deep-hidden hopes and longings +revealed in sacred confidence. + +The Little Doctor, shamelessly eavesdropping because she was a mother +fighting for her fledgling, tiptoed away from the corner of the stack, +and went back to the house, wiping her eyes frequently with the corner of +her handkerchief that was not embroidered. She went into her room and +stayed there a long while, and before she came out she had recourse to +rosewater and talcum and other first aids to swollen eyelids. + +Whatever she may have thought, whatever she may have overheard beyond +what has been recorded, her manner toward Luck was so unobtrusively +tender that Chip looked at her once or twice with a puzzled, husbandly +frown. Also, the Kid felt something special in his Doctor Dell's +good-night kiss; something he did not understand at all, since he had not +yet told her that he was going to be a good boy and stay at home and take +care of her and the ranch. + + + + +CHAPTER FIVE + +A BUNCH OF ONE-REELERS FROM BENTLY BROWN + + +The Manager of the Acme Film Company cleared his throat with a rasping +noise that sounded very loud, coming as it did after fifteen minutes of +complete silence. Luck, smoking a cigarette absent-mindedly by the window +while he stared out across two vacant lots to a tawdry apartment +house,--and saw a sage-covered plain instead of what was before his +eyes,--started from his daydream and glanced at Martinson inquiringly. +"Well, what do you think of it?" he asked. + +Martinson cleared his throat again, and shuffled the typed sheets in his +hands. "Seems to lack action, don't it?" he hazarded reluctantly. "Of +course, this is a rough draft; I realize that. I suppose you'll +strengthen up the plot, later on. Chance for some good cattle-stealing +complications, I should think. But I'd boil it down to two reels, Luck, +if I were you. There's a lot of atmosphere you couldn't get, anyway--" + +"I can get every foot of that atmosphere," Luck put in crisply. + +"Oh, I suppose--but you don't want that much. Too expensive, where it +doesn't carry the action along. I'd put in some dance-hall scenes; you +haven't enough interiors. Make your lead a victim of card sharps, why +don't you, and have his sister come there after him? You could get some +great dramatic action--have her meet the heavy there--" + +"After the tried-and-tested recipe. Sure, Mart! We can take the middle +out of that _Her-Brother's-Honor_ film and use that; and if you're afraid +the public may recognize it, we'll run it backwards. Or we can mix it +with some _Western-Girl's-Romance_ film, or take--" + +"Now, Luck, wait a minute. Wait-a-minute!" Martinson's hand went up in +the approved gesture of stopping another's speech. "You can give it an +original twist. You know you can; you always have." + +Luck swore, accustomed though he was to the makeshifts of the business. +The street cars had stopped running the night before, while he was still +hammering that scenario out on the typewriter; the street cars had +stopped running, and the steam heat had been turned off in the hotel +where he lived, and he had finished with an old Mexican _serape_ draped +about his person for warmth. But his enthusiasm had not cooled, though +his room grew chill. He had gone to bed when the typing was done, and had +dreamed scene after scene vividly while he slept. Still glowing with the +pride of creation, he had read the script while his breakfast coffee had +cooled, and he had been the first man in the office, so eager was he to +share his secret and see Martinson's eyes gleam with impatience to have +the story filmed. + +Knowing this, you will know also why he swore. Martinson thrust out his +under lip at the oath, and tossed the script neatly into the clear space +on the desk. "Oh, if that's the way you feel about it!" His tone was +trenchant. "Sorry I offered any suggestions. There are some good bits, if +they're worked up right, and I naturally supposed you wanted my opinion." + +"I did. I never saw you square up to anything but the same old dime-novel +West before. I wanted to see how it would hit you." + +"Well, it don't." Martinson waited a minute while that sunk in. When he +spoke again, his manner was that of a man who has dismissed a +disagreeable subject, and has taken up important business. + +"We've made quite a haul since you left. A bunch of one-reelers from +Bently Brown. You'll eat 'em up, Luck,--all those stories of his +featuring the adventures of the XY cowboys. You've read 'em; everybody +has, according to him. They'll be cheap to put on, because the same sets +and the same locations will do for the lot. Same cast, too. He blew in +here temporarily hard up and wanting to unload, and we got the whole +series for next to nothing." He opened a desk drawer, and took out a +bundle of folded scripts tied with a dingy blue tape. Martinson was a +matter-of-fact man; he really did not understand just how much Luck's new +story meant to its author. If he had, he surely would not have been quite +so brisk and so frankly elated over that untidy lot of Bently Brown +scenarios. + +"I had all the synopses numbered and put on top here," he went on, "so +you can run them over and see what they're like. A small company will do, +Luck. That's one point that struck me. Two or three die, on an average, +in the first four hundred feet of every story; so you can double a lot. +I've had Clements go over them and start the carpenters on the street set +where most of the exterior action takes place; we're behind on releases, +you know, and these ought to be rushed. You'd better go over and see how +he's making out; you may want to make some changes." + +Luck hesitated so long that Martinson was on the edge of withdrawing the +proffered scripts. But he took them finally, and ran his eye +disparagingly over the titles. "Bently Brown!" he said, as though he were +naming something disagreeable. "I'm to film Bently Brown's +blood-and-battle stuff, am I?" He grinned, with the corners of his mouth +tipped downward so that you never would have suspected it of ever +producing Luck's famous smile. "I might turn them into comedy," he +suggested. "I expect I could get a punch by burlesquing--" + +"Punch!" Martinson pushed his chair back impetuously. "Punch? Why, my +godfrey, man, that stuff's all punch!" + +Luck curved a palm over his too-expressive mouth while he skimmed the +central idea from two or three synopses. Martinson watched him uneasily. +Martinson claimed to keep one finger pressed firmly upon the public +pulse--wherever that may be found--and to be ever alert for its warning +flutterings. Martinson claimed to know a great deal about what the public +liked in the way of moving pictures. He believed in Luck's knowledge of +the West, but he did not believe that the public would stand for the real +West at all; the public, he maintained, wanted its West served hot and +strong and reeking with the smoke of black powder. So-- + +"Well, the market demands that sort of thing," he declared, arguing +against that curved palm and the telltale wrinkles around Luck's eyes. +"It's all tommyrot, of course. I don't say it's good; I say it's the +stuff that goes. We're here to make what the public will pay to look +at." Martinson, besides keeping his finger on the public pulse and +attending to the marketing of the Acme wares and watching that expenses +did not run too high, found a little time in which to be human. "I know, +Luck," the human side of him observed sympathetically; "it's just +made-to-order melodrama, but business is simply rotten, old man. We've +just got to release films the market calls for. There's no +art-for-art's-sake in the movie business, and you know it. Now, +personally, I like that scenario of yours--" + +"Forget it!" said Luck crisply, warning him off the subject. To make the +warning keener-edged, he lifted the typed sheets over which he had worked +so late the night before, glanced at the top one, gave a snort, and tore +them twice down the length of them with vicious twists of his fingers. He +did not mean to be spectacular; he simply felt that way at that +particular moment, and he indulged the impulse to destroy something. He +dropped the fragments into Martinson's waste basket, picked up the bundle +of scripts and his hat, and went out with his mouth pulled down at the +corners and with his neck pretty stiff. + +He went swinging across the studio yard and on past the great stage where +the carpenters halted their work while they greeted him, and looked after +him and spoke of him when he had passed. Early idlers--extras with high +hopes and empty pockets--sent him wistful glances which he did not see at +all; though he did see Andy Green and his wife (who had been Rosemary +Allen). These two stood hesitating just within the half-open, high board +gate fifty yards away. Luck waved his hand and swerved toward them. + +"Howdy! Where's the rest of the bunch?" he called out as they hurried up +to him. Whereupon the group of extras were sharp bitten by the envy of +these two strangers, spoken to so familiarly by Luck Lindsay. + +"Do you know, I feel sure the boys are being held in the lost-child place +at the police station!" Rosemary Green, twinkled her brown eyes at him +from between strands of crinkly brown hair. "I had tags all fixed, with +name, age, owner's address and all that, and I was going to hang them +around the boys' necks with pale blue ribbon--pale blue would be so +becoming! But do you know, I couldn't find them! I feel worried. I should +hate to waste thirty-nine cents worth of pale blue ribbon. I can't wear +it myself; it makes me look positively swarthy." Rosemary Green had a +most captivating way of saying swarthy. + +The corners of Luck's mouth came up instantly. "We'll have to send out +scouting parties. I need that bunch of desperadoes. Let's look over by +the corrals. I've got to go over and see what kind of a street set +they're knocking together, anyway. + +"Hello! I have sure-enough crying need for all you strays," he exclaimed +five minutes later, when they came upon the Flying TJ boys standing +disconsolately at the head of the street "set" upon which carpenters were +hammering and sawing and painters were daubing. Luck's eyes chilled as he +took in the stereotyped "Western" crudeness of the set. + +"Well, we sure need you--and need you bad," Pink retorted. "We want to +know what town was peeled so they could set the rind up like that and +call it a street? Between you and me, Luck, it don't look good to me, +back or front. You walk into what claims to be a saloon, and come out on +a view of the hills. They tell me the bar of that imitation saloon is +away over there on that platform, and they say the bottles are all full +of tea. That right?" + +Luck nodded gloomily. "Soon as they get the set up, it's going to be your +privilege to come boiling out of that saloon, shooting two guns, Pink," +he prophesied. "You'll have the fun of killing half a dozen boys that +come down from this end shooting as they ride." He put his cigarette +between his lips and began to untie the dingy blue tape that bound the +scenarios together. + +"Ever read any of Bently Brown's stories? They wished a bunch of them on +to me while I was gone and couldn't defend myself," he said, as one who +breaks bad news. "I'm certainly sorry about this, boys. It's a long way +from what I brought you out here to do; and if you want to, you can call +the deal off and go home. Rip-snorting, rotten melodrama--cheap as ice in +Alaska. Stuff I hate--because it's the stuff that cheapens the West in +pictures." + +"What about our range picture?" Andy Green began anxiously. + +Luck choked back an oath because of Andy's wife. "Ah--they're married to +the idea that this rot is what sells best. They don't know what a _real_ +Western picture is: they never saw one. And they're afraid to take a +chance. I was in hopes--but Mart's the big chief, you know. He'd gone and +loaded up with this trash, and so he couldn't see my story at all. I get +his viewpoint, all right; he's keen to pry off some real money, and he's +afraid to experiment with new tools. But it does seem pretty raw to put +you boys working on this cheap studio stuff after getting you out here to +do something worth while." + +"We're to stay right here, then?" Weary spoke the question that was in +the minds of all of them. + +"That's the present outlook," Luck confessed with bitterness. "I don't +need real country for this junk. I was all primed to show him where I'd +have to take my company to New Mexico, but I didn't say anything about it +when he sprung this Bently Brown business. This will all be made right +here at the studio and out in Griffith Park." + +Down deep in Luck's heart there was a hurt he would not reveal to any +one. It was built partly of disappointment and an honest dislike for +doing unworthy work; it had in it also some personal chagrin at being +compelled to put the Happy Family at work in the very class of pictures +he had often ridiculed in his talk with them, after bringing them all the +way from Montana so that he might produce his big range picture. He stood +looking somberly at the set which Clements had planned to save time--and +therefore dollars--for the Acme Company. He thought of his range story, +as it had first grown out of the night away up there in the plains +country; he thought of how he had hurried so that he might the sooner +make the vision a reality; how he had talked of it confidently to these +men who had listened with growing enthusiasm and interest, until his +vision had become their vision, his hopes their hopes. + +They had left the Flying U and come with him to help make that big +picture of the range. By their eager talk they had helped him to +strengthen certain scenes; they had even suggested new, original material +as they told of this adventure and that accident, and argued--as was +their habit--ever scenes and situations. That was why Andy had spoken of +it as _their_ picture. That was why they were here; that was what had +brought them early to the studio. And in his hand he held a half dozen or +more of those cheap, lurid stories he had always despised; they must let +the public see their faces in these impossible, illogical situations, or +they must go back and call Luck Lindsay names to salve their +disappointment. + +The dried little man--whose name was Dave Wiswell--came walking curiously +up the fresh-made "street," his sharp eyes taking in the falsity of the +whole row of shack-houses that had no backs; bald behind as board fences, +save where two-by-fours braced them from falling. He saw the group +standing before a wall that purported to be the front of a bank (which +would be robbed with much bloodshed in the second scenario) and he +hurried a little. Luck scowled at him preoccupiedly, nodded a good +morning, and turned abruptly to the others. + +"Listen. If you boys are game for this melodrama, I'd like to use you, +all right. You'll get experience in the business, anyway, so maybe it +won't do you any harm. And if the weather holds good, we'll just make a +long hard drive of this bunch of drivel; we'll rush 'em through--sabe? +And I'll make it my business to see that Mart doesn't unload any more of +the same. You may even get some fun out of it, seeing you're not fed up +on this said Western drama, the way I am. Anyway, what's the word? Shall +I hop into the machine and go down and buy you fellows a bunch of return +tickets, or shall I assign you your parts and wade into this blood and +bullets business?" + +Weary folded his arms and grinned down at Luck. "I'm all for the blood +and bullets, myself," he said promptly. "I'm just crazy to come shooting +and yelling down this little imitation street and do things that are +bold and bad." + +"I should think," interjected Rosemary Green, with a pretty viciousness, +"that you'd be ashamed, Luck Lindsay! Do you think we are a bunch of +quitters? Give me a part--and a gun--and I'll stand on a ladder behind +that hotel window and shoot 'em as fast as they can turn the corner down +there." Her brown eyes twinkled hearteningly at him. "I'll pull my hair +down, and yell and shoot and wring my hands--Pink, you keep still! I'm +positive I can shoot and wring my hands at the same time in a Bently +Brown story, can't I, Luck?" + +"You certainly can," Luck told her grimly. "You can do worse than that +and get by. Well, all right, folks. You prowl around and kill time while +I get ready to start. There won't be anything doing till after lunch, at +the earliest, so make yourselves at home. I'd introduce you to some of +these folks if it was worth while, but it ain't. You'll know them soon +enough--most of them to your sorrow, at that." He turned on his heel with +a hasty "See yuh later," and plunged into the work before him just as +energetically as though his heart were in it. + + + + +CHAPTER SIX + +VILLAINS ALL AND PROUD OF IT + + +"Day's work, boys!" called Luck through his little megaphone at three +o'clock one day, and doubled up his working script that was much crumpled +and scribbled with hasty pencil marks. "No use spoiling good film," he +remarked to his assistant, glancing up at the sweeping fog bank, off to +the west. "By the time we rehearse the next scene, she'll be too dark to +shoot. You go and order these cavalry costumes, Beckitt; and, say! You +tell them down there that if they're shy on the number, they better set +down and make enough, because they won't see a cent of our money if +there's so much as a canteen lacking. And tell 'em to send army guns. +That last assortment of junk they sent out was pathetic. I want equipment +for fifty U.S. Cavalry, time of the early eighties. That don't mean +forty-nine--get me? You're inclined to let those fellows have it their +own way too much. I want this cavalry--" + +"There ain't any close-ups of cavalry, are there?" Beckitt demurred. "I +told them last time I thought those guns would do, because I knew the +detail wouldn't--" + +"Listen." Luck's tone was deliberately tolerant. "That's maybe the reason +you've been searching your soul for all along--the reason why you can't +get past the assistant-director stage. I want those fifty cavalrymen +equipped! Do you get that?" While his eyes held Beckitt uncomfortably +with their stern steadfastness, Luck thrust the script into his coat +pocket that had a permanent, motion-picture-director sag to it. "If I +meant that any old gun would do, I'd give my orders that way. Now, +remember, there isn't going to be any waiting around while you go back +and argue, nor any makeshifts, nor anything but fifty cavalrymen fully +equipped. Here's the list complete for to-morrow's order. You see that +it's filled!" + +Beckitt took the list which he should have made himself, since that was +what he was paid for doing, and went off in the sulks and the company +machine. Luck pulled a solacing cigar from an inner pocket and licked +down the roughened outer leaves, and scowled thoughtfully across the +studio yard. The camera man was figuring up footage or something, and his +assistant was hurrying to get the tripod folded and put away. There was a +new briskness in the movements of every one save Luck himself, after he +spoke that last sentence through the megaphone. + +The Happy Family--or that part of it which had thrown away pitchforks and +taken to the pictures--came clanking across the stage toward Luck. You +would never have known the Happy Family, unless it were the Native Son +who wore his usual regalia in exaggerated form. The Happy Family had +wide, flapping chaps that made them drag their feet they were so heavy +and so long, and great Mexican spurs whose rowels dug tiny trenches in +the ground when they walked. They wore the biggest Stetsons that famous +hat brand ever was stamped upon. They had huge bandanas draped +picturesquely over their chests, and their sleeves were rolled to the +elbows and their eyes rimmed with deep pencil shadings. At their hips +swung six-shooters of violent pattern and portent. Around their middles +sagged belts filled with blank cartridges. A sack of tobacco was making +the rounds as they came on, and Luck watched them through speculatively +narrowed lids. + +"Say, by cripes, that there saloon is the driest poison-palace I ever +surged out of with two guns spittin' death and dumnation!" Big Medicine +complained, coming up with the plain intention of lighting his cigarette +from Luck's cigar. "How'd we stack up this time, boss? Bein' soused on +cold tea, I couldn't rightly pass judgment. How many was it I murdered in +cold blood, in that there scene where I laid 'em out with black powder? +Four, or five? Pink, here, claims I killed him twicet, whereas he oughta +be left alive enough to jump on his horse and ride three hundred and +fifty miles to fall dead in his best girl's arms. He claims he made that +ride day before yesterday, and done some pitiful weaving around in the +saddle, out there in the hills, and that he died in that blond lady's +arms first thing this morning, and I hadn't no right to kill him twicet +afterwards in the saloon fight. Now I leave it to you, boss. How about +this here killin' Pink off every oncet in a while?" + +Deep in his throat Luck chuckled. "Well, Pink certainly does die +pathetic," he soothed the perturbed murderer, dropping his professional +brusqueness for frank comradeship. "He's about the best little close-up +dier I ever worked with. He can get a sob anytime he rolls his eyes and +gasps and falls backward." He clapped his hand down on Pink's shoulder +and gave it a little shake. + +"That's all right," drawled the Native Son, taking off his sombrero to +deepen the crease and the dents, because three girls were coming across +the lot. "But I've got a complaint of my own to make. When you holler for +Bud to start the rough stuff, he just goes powder crazy. He shot me up +four times in that scene! Twice he held the gun so close my scalp's all +powder-marked, and by rights he should have blowed the top of my head +plumb into the street. He gets so taken up with this slaughter-house +business that he'll wind up by shooting himself a few times if you don't +watch him." + +"One thing," Weary put in mildly, "I want to speak about, Luck. We need +more blood for those murders. I didn't have half enough for all the +mortal wounds Bud gave me. By rights that saloon should be plumb reeking +with gore when we're all killed off--the way Bud flies at it with those +two six-shooters. No bullets hit the walls anywhere, so it stands to +reason they all land in a soft spot on our persons. I needed a large +bucket of blood--and I had about a half teacupful." He grinned. "Mamma! +That was sure some slaughter, though!" + +"Where's Tracy Gray Joyce?" Luck inquired irrelevantly, with a hasty +glance around them. "To-morrow, he'll have to come into that same +slaughter pen and seize the murderer and subdue him by the steely glint +of his eye and by his unflinching demeanor." He pulled the corners of his +mouth down expressively. "That's the way the scenario reads," he added +defensively. + +"Well, say, by cripes, he better amble down to the city and buy him some +more glint!" Big Medicine bawled, and laughed afterwards with his big +_haw-haw-haw_. "And I'll gamble there ain't enough unflinchin' demeanor +on the Coast to put that boy through the scene. Honest-to-gran'-ma, Luck, +that there Tracy Gray Joyce gits pale, and his Adam's apple pumps up and +down when I come up and smile at him! What color do yuh reckon he'll turn +to when he stands up to me right after me slaying all these innocent +boys--and me a-foamin' at the mouth and gloatin' over the foul deed I've +just did? Say? How's he going to keep that there Adam's apple from +shootin' clean up through his hair, and his knees from wobblin'? How--" + +"He won't," said Luck suddenly, with a brightening of his eyes. "He +won't. I hope they do wobble. You go ahead, Bud, and foam at the mouth. +You--you _look_ at Tracy Gray Joyce. Not in the rehearsing, understand; +leave out the foam and the gloating till we turn the camera on the scene. +Sabe? On the quiet, boys." + +"Sure," came the guarded chorus. It was remarkable what a complete +understanding there was between Luck and the Happy Family. It was that +complete understanding which had kept Luck's spirits up during his +unloved task of producing Bently Brown stuff in film. + +"Well, say!" Big Medicine leaned close and throttled his voice down to a +hoarse whisper. "What kinda hee-ro will your Tracy Gray Joyce look like, +when I start up foamin' and gloatin' at him?" + +Luck smiled. "That," he said calmly, "is for the camera to find out." He +was going to say something more on the subject, but some one called to +him anxiously from over toward the office. So he told them _adios_ +hurriedly and went his busy way, and left the Happy Family discussing him +gravely among themselves. + +The Happy Family were so interested in this new work that they were ready +to see the bright side even of these weird performances which purported +to be Western drama. If you did not take it seriously, all this violence +of dress and behavior was fun. The Happy Family was slipping into a +rivalry of violence; and the strange part of it was that Luck Lindsay, +stickler for realism, self-confessed enthusiast on the uplifting of +motion pictures to a fine art, permitted their violence,--which was not +as the violence of other, better trained Western actors. The Happy +Family, after their first self-conscious tendency to duck behind +something or somebody, had come to forget the merciless, recording eye of +the camera. They had come to look upon their work as a game, played for +the amusement of Luck Lindsay, who watched them always, and for the open +ridicule of Bently Brown, writer of these tales of blood and heroics. + +And Luck not only permitted but encouraged them in this exaggeration,--to +the amazement of the camera man who had turned the crank on more Western +dramas than he could remember. Scenes of violence--such as the saloon row +in which Big Medicine had forgotten that Pink was to be left alive, and +so had killed him twice--made the camera man and the assistant laugh when +they should have shuddered; and to wonder why Luck Lindsay, wholly biased +though he was in favor of the Happy Family, did not seem to realize that +they were not getting the right punch into the pictures. + +Luck was not behaving at all in his usual manner with his company. +Evenings, instead of holding himself aloof from his subordinates, he +would head straight for the furnished bungalow which the Flying U boys +had taken possession of, with Rosemary Green to give the home atmosphere +which saved the place from becoming a mere bunk-house de luxe. If he +could possibly manage it, Luck would reach headquarters in time for +dinner--the Happy Family blandly called it supper, of course--and would +proceed to forget the day's irritations while he ate what he ambiguously +called "real cookin'." + +There was a fireplace in that bungalow, and a fairly large living-room +surrounding the fireplace. The Happy Family extravagantly indulged +themselves in wood, even at the unbelievable price they must pay for it; +and after supper they would light the fire and hunt up chairs enough, and +roll cigarettes, and talk themselves quite away from the present and into +the past of glowing memory. + +The horses they rode--before that fireplace--would have made any +Frontier Day celebration famous enough to be mentioned in the next +encyclopedia published. The herds they took through hard winters and +summer droughts would have made them millionaires all, if they could +only have turned them into flesh-and-blood animals. They talked of +blizzards and of high water and of short grass and of thunderstorms. +They added little touches to the big range picture Luck had planned to +make. Starting off suddenly in this wise: "Say, Luck, why don't you +have--?" and the fires of enthusiasm would flare again in Luck's eyes, +and the talk would grow eager. + +But--and here was the key to the remarkable interpretation which Luck +permitted the Happy Family to give the Bently Brown stories--some time +before the evening was too old, Luck would swing the talk around to the +work they were doing. He would pull a Bently Brown scenario from his +pocket and read, with much sarcastic comment, the scenes they were later +to enact. He would incite the Happy Family to poking fun at such lurid +performances as Bently Brown described in all seriousness and in detail. +He would encourage comment and argument and the play of their caustic +imaginations upon the action of the story. He would gradually make them +see the whole thing in the light of a huge joke; he would, without saying +much himself, bring the Happy Family into the mood of wanting to make +Bently Brown appear ridiculous to all beholders. + +Is it any wonder, then, if the camera man and the assistants should +exchange puzzled glances when Luck put the Happy Family through their +scenes? Exits and entrances, the essential details of the action, Luck +directed painstakingly, as always he had done. Why, then, said camera man +to assistants, should he let those fellows go in and ball up the dramatic +business and turn whole scenes into farce with their foolery? And why had +he chosen Tracy Gray Joyce as leading man? And that eye-rolling, limp +sentimentalist, Lenore Honiwell, as his leading woman? Luck was known to +despise these two, personally and professionally. They could not, to save +their lives, get through a dramatic scene together without giving the +observers a sickish feeling. To see Tracy Gray Joyce lay his hand upon +the left side of his cravat and cast his eyes upward always made Luck +shiver; yet Tracy Gray Joyce would he have for leading man, and none +other. To see Lenore Honiwell throw back her head, close her eyes, and +heave one of those terrific motion-picture sighs always made the camera +man snort; yet Luck, who before had considered her scarcely worth a civil +bow when he met her, had actually coaxed her away from a director who +really admired her style of acting. + +And when Luck, who had always gone about his work impervious to curious +onlookers, suddenly changed his method and ordered all interior sets +screened in, and all bystanders away from the immediate vicinity of his +exterior scenes, the Acme people began to call him "swell-headed"--when +they did not call him worse. Even his excuse that he was working with +boys new to the business and did not want them rattled failed to satisfy +most of them. + +The Happy Family, in the tiny, bare dressing rooms which they called +box-stalls in merciless candor, were smearing their faces liberally with +cold cream and still arguing among themselves over the doubtful blessing +of owning as many lives as a cat, and bewailing the bruises they had +received while sacrificing a few of their lives to the blood-lust of Big +Medicine and Pink, the two official, Bently-Brown bad men. Outside their +two connecting "stalls" a fine drizzle was making the studio yard an +empty place of churchyard gloom and incidentally justifying Luck in +quitting so early. Big Medicine was swabbing paint from his eyebrows and +bellowing his opinion of a man that will keep a-comin', by cripes, after +he's shot the third time at close range, and then kick because he takes +so much killing off. This was aimed at the Native Son, who had evidently +died hard, and who meant to retaliate as soon as he got that dab of paint +out of his eye. But the door opened violently against his person and +startled him into forgetting his next observation. + +This was Luck, and he had the look of a man who owns a guilty secret, and +is ready to be rather proud of his guilt,--providing society consents to +wink at it with him. He was not smiling, exactly; he had a wicked kind of +twinkle in his eyes. + +"Hurry up, boys! My Lord, how you fellows do primp and jangle in here! +They're going to run our first picture, _The Soul of Littlefoot Law_. +Don't you fel--" + +"The which?" Big Medicine whirled upon him, rubbing his left eye into a +terrifying, bloodshot condition while he glared with the other. + +"_The Soul of Littlefoot Law_," Luck repeated distinctly with a perfect +neutrality of manner. + +"'S that what you call all that ridin' and shootin' we done, that you +said was by moonlight?" Pink inquired pugnaciously--for a young man who +had died the death four different times that day. + +"That's what it's called," Luck averred with firmness. + +"Aw--where does Soul of Littlefoot Law come in at?" Happy Jack scoffed. + +"It doesn't, so far as I know." + +"Aw, there ain't no sense in such a name as that. Is that where I got +shot off'n my horse, and Bud, here, done his best to run over me?" + +"That's the one. My Lord, boys, how long does it take you fellows to get +your make-up off? They'll have the film run and passed and released and +out on the five-cent circuit on its fifteenth round before you--" Luck, +director though he was, found it wise to pass out quickly and hold the +door shut behind him for a minute. "Honest, boys, you want to hurry," he +called through the closed door. He waited until the sounds within +indicated that they were hurrying quite violently, and then he went his +way; and he still had the look in his eyes of one who bears in his soul a +secret guilt of which he is inclined to be proud. + +When the Acme people gathered resignedly in the private projection room, +however, Luck's wicked little twinkle had turned a shade anxious. He +excused himself from the chair between Martinson and Mollie Ryan, the +stenographer, and went over to confer with the Happy Family and the dried +little man who kept clannishly together as usual, and he forgot to return +to his place. + +The Acme people, personally and individually, were sick and tired of all +motion pictures that did not portray with vividness the beauty or the +talents of themselves, or the faults of their acquaintances. No Acme +people, save Lenore Honiwell and Tracy Gray Joyce and a phlegmatic +character woman, were in this picture at all. The camera man who took it +did not think highly of it and considered the wonderful photography as +good as wasted, and he had said as much--and more--to his intimates. +Beckitt, Luck's assistant, had privately announced it as the rottenest +piece of cheese he had ever seen under a Wild-West label, and disclaimed +all responsibility. They of the cutting and trimming clan had not said +anything at all. Martinson, having heard the rumors, felt that they +confirmed his own suspicion that Luck had made a big blunder in bringing +those cowboys into the company. They were not actors. They did not +pretend to be actors. + +You will see that it was a critical audience indeed that gathered there +in the projection room that rainy afternoon to see the trial run of _The +Soul of the Littlefoot Law_. It would take a good deal to win any +approbation from that bunch. + +And then they were looking at the first scene, which Was a night in +Whoopalong, the fake town over there beyond the big stage. The Happy +Family, all disguised as cowboys, came surging out of the darkness. +H-m-m. That was the bunch that Luck Lindsay had done so much bragging +about, and called "real boys," was it? silently commented the audience. +No different from any other cowboys, as far as any one could see. + +True, they used about half the usual amount of film footage in getting to +foreground; probably underspeeded the camera,--an old, old trick which +has helped to put the dash and ginger into many a poor horseman's act. + +But the "XY cowboys" certainly surged up to foreground, and it was seen +that they rode with reins in their teeth, and that each and every man +fired two huge six-shooters straight up at the moon every time their +horses hit the ground with forefeet. The Happy Family leaned forward and +craned around the heads of those in front that they might see all of it. +Luck had told them before making this scene to "eat 'em alive," and the +Happy Family had very nearly done so. Andy Green nudged his wife, +Rosemary, and whispered hurriedly that this was where the camera man had +pulled up his tripod by the roots and beat it, thinking he was going to +be run over; and that was why the scene was cut unexpectedly just where +Andy set his horse on its haunches and posed, a heroic figure of a cowboy +rampant, immediately before the lens. + +Luck, glancing hurriedly to right and left, slid down and rested the nape +of his neck on the back of his chair, slipped a fresh stick of gum +between his teeth, hung his hat on his knee, and prepared to view his +work with critical mind and impartial, and with his conscience like his +body at ease. The thing had certainly started off with zip enough, since +zip was what Mart claimed the Public demanded. + +The next scene was a continuation of the one before,--the camera man +having evidently recovered himself and gotten to work again. The Happy +Family, still surging and still shooting two guns apiece at the pale +moon, were shown entering the saloon door four abreast and with the rest +crowding for place. Still there was zip; all kinds of zip. The Happy +Family nudged and grinned in the dusk and were very much pleased with +themselves as XY cowboys seeking mild entertainment in town. + +Some one behind remarked upon the surging and the shooting, and Big +Medicine turned his head quickly and sent a hoarse stage whisper in the +general direction of the mumble. + +"Ah-h, that there ain't anything! Luck never let us turn ourselves loose +there a-tall. You wait, by cripes, till yuh see us where we git warmed up +and strung out proper! You wait! Honest to gran'--" It was Luck's elbow +that stopped him by the simple expedient of cutting off his wind. Big +Medicine gave a grunt and said no more. + +Thereafter, the Happy Family discovered that there was a certain +continuity in the barbaric performances in which Luck had grinningly +encouraged them to indulge themselves. They beheld themselves engaged in +various questionable enterprises, and they laughed in naïve enjoyment as +certain bloodcurdling traits in their characters were depicted with +startling vividness. Accented by make-up and magnified on the screen, the +goggling, frog-like ugliness of Big Medicine became like unto ogres of +childish memory; his smile was a thing to make one's back hair stand up +with a cold, prickling sensation. Happy Jack stared at himself and his +exaggerated awkwardness incredulously, with a sheepish grin of +appreciation. The rest of them watched and missed no slightest gesture. + +So they saw the plot of Bently Brown unfold, scene by scene; unfold in +violence and malevolent intrigue and zip and much fighting. Also unfolded +something of which Bently Brown had never dreamed; something which the +audience, though greeting it with laughter, failed at first to recognize +for what it was worth, because every one knew all about the Bently-Brown +Western dramas, and every one believed that they were to be made after +the usual recipe more elaborately stirred. So every one had been +chortling through several scenes before the significance of their +laughter occurred to them. + +Comedy--that was it. Comedy, that had slipped in with cap and bells +just when the door was flung open for black-robed Tragedy. But it was +too late to stop laughing when they discovered the trick. They saw it +now, in the very sub-titles which Luck had twisted impishly into sly +humor that pointed to the laugh, in the deeds of blood that followed. +They saw it in the goggling ferocity of Big Medicine; in the +innocent-eyed, dimpled fiendishness of Pink; in the lank awkwardness of +Happy Jack. They saw it in the sentimental mannerisms of Lenore +Honiwell, whose sickish emotionalism slipped pat into the burlesque. +They rocked in their seats at the heroics of Tracy Gray Joyce, who +could never again be taken seriously, since Luck had tagged him +mercilessly as an unconscious comedian. + +Oh, yes, there was zip to the picture! But there was no explanation of +the title. _The Soul of Littlefoot Law_ remained as great a mystery when +the picture was finished as it had been at the start. Littlefoot Law, by +the way, was Pink. That much the audience discovered, and no more; for as +to his soul, he did not seem to own one. + +Luck, still hunched down so that his back hair rubbed against his chair +back, was laughing with his jaws wide apart and his fine teeth still +gleaming in the half darkness, when Ted, general errand boy at the +office, came straddling over intervening laps and laid a compelling hand +on his shoulder. + +"Say, Luck," he whispered excitedly, "the audience author's with Mart, +and they both want t' see you. And, say, I guess you're in Dutch, all +right; the author's awful mad, and so is Mart. But say, no matter what +they do to you, Luck, take it from me, that pit'cher's a humdinger! I +like to died a-laughing!" + + + + +CHAPTER SEVEN + +BENTLY BROWN DOES NOT APPRECIATE COMEDY + + +Luck unhooked his hat from his knee, brought his laughing jaws together +with that eloquent, downward tilt to the corners of his mouth, sat up +straight, considered swiftly the possibilities of the next half hour, and +paid tribute in one expressive word of four letters before he went +crawling over half a dozen pairs of knees to do battle for his picture. +His picture, you understand. For since he had made it irresistible comedy +instead of very mediocre drama, he felt all the pride of creation in his +work. That was his picture that had set the Acme people laughing,--they +who had come to carp and to talk knowingly of continuity and of technique +and dramatic values, and to criticize everything from the sets to the +photography. It was his picture; he had made it what it was. So he went +as a champion rather than as a culprit to face the powers above him. + +Martinson and Bently Brown were waiting for him near the door. They were +not going to stay and see the next picture run, and that, in Luck's +opinion, was a bad-weather sign. But he came up to them cheerfully, +turning his hat in his fingers to find the front of it before he set it +on his head. (These limp, wool, knockabout hats are always more or less +confusing, and Luck was fastidious about his apparel.) + +"Ah--Mr. Brown, this is Mr. Lindsay, ah--director who is producing your +stories." Martinson's tone was as neutral as he could make it. + +Luck said that he was glad to meet Mr. Brown, which was a lie. At the +same instant he found the stitched-down bow on his hat, and from there +felt his way to the front. At the same time he decided that there was +going to be something doing presently, if Mart's manner meant anything at +all. Mart was a peaceable soul, and in the approaching crisis Luck knew +he would climb hurriedly upon the fence of neutrality and stay there; and +Luck could fight or climb a tree as he chose. + +They went outside, and Luck turned his eyes sidewise and took a look at +Bently Brown. He measured him mentally from pigskin puttees to rakish, +stiff brimmed Stetson with careful dimples in the crown and a leather +hatband stamped with horses' heads and his initials. In a picture, Luck +would have cast Bently Brown, costume and all, for a comedy mining +engineer or something of that sort. You know the type: He arrives on the +stage that is held up, and is always in the employ of the monied octopus, +and the cowboys who pursue and capture the bandits have fun afterwards +with the engineer,--so much fun that he crawls out of an up-stairs window +in the night and departs hastily and forever from that place. You are +perfectly familiar with the character, I am sure. + +Luck, after that swift, comprehensive glance, was not greatly alarmed. In +that he made his greatest blunder. He should have reckoned with the +wounded vanity of the little author who believes himself great. He should +have reminded himself that Bently Brown was not a comedy mining engineer, +but that touchiest of all mortals, the nearly successful author. He +should have taken warning from the stiff-necked, stiff-backed gait of +Bently Brown on the short walk to the office. He should have read danger +in the blinking lids of his pale eyes, and in his self-conscious manner +of looking straight before him. + +In the office, then, luck basely deserted one Luck Lindsay, and left him +to fight a losing battle. For Bently Brown was incensed, insulted, and +outraged over the manner in which _The Soul of Littlefoot Law_ had been +filmed. The story had been caricatured out of all semblance to its +original self. Littlefoot Law had been shown as having no soul whatever. +Instead of being permitted to make the final, supreme sacrifice of his +life for the honor of his enemy,--which would have revealed to the +audience his possession of a clean white soul in spite of his bad +character,--he had been made out a little fiend who would shoot you on +the slightest provocation. The girl had been thrust into the background, +and the hero had been made into a coward and a paltry villain; they were +all desperadoes upon the screen. Never in his life had Bently Brown been +made to suffer such an affront. Never had he dreamed that his work would +be made a thing to laugh at-- + +"They certainly did laugh," Luck lazily interrupted. "And believe me, Mr. +Brown, it takes real stuff to collect a laugh out of that bunch. It will +be a riot with the public; you can bank on that. By the time I get a few +more made and released, you can expect to see your name in the papers +without paying advertising rates." Whatever possessed Luck to talk that +way to Bently Brown, I cannot say. He surely must have seen that the +little, over-costumed author was choking with spleen. + +"It was a farce!" The small, yellow mustache of Bently Brown was +twitching comically with the tremble of his lips beneath. "A bald, +unmitigated farce!" + +"Surest thing you know," Luck agreed, with that little chuckle of his. +"At first I was afraid the crowd wouldn't get it; I didn't know but they +might try to take it seriously. Now, I know for certain that it will get +over. It will be the cleanest, funniest, farce-comedy series that has +ever been filmed." Luck sat up straight and pulled a cigar from his +pocket and looked at it absent-mindedly. "Say, those boys of mine are +certainly real ones! I wouldn't trade that bunch for the highest-salaried +actors you could hand me. Do you know what made that picture such a +scream? It was because there wasn't a bit of made-to-order comedy +business in the whole film. Those boys didn't think about acting funny +just to make folks laugh. They were so doggoned busy having fun with the +story and showing up its weak points that they forgot to be +self-conscious. If I'd had a regular comedy company working on it, +believe me, Mr. Brown, it might have turned out almost as rotten a farce +as it would be as a drama!" + +Had Bently Brown owned under his pink skin any of the primitive instincts +which he was so fond of portraying in his characters, he would have +killed Luck without any further argument or delay. + +Instead of that he spluttered and stormed like a scolding woman. He +lifted first one puttee and then the other, and he shook his fist, and +he nodded his head violently, and finally was constrained to lift the +leather-banded Stetson from his blond hair and wipe the perspiration +from his brow with a lavender initialed handkerchief. He said a great +deal in a very few minutes, but it was too involved, too incoherent to +be repeated here. Luck gathered, however, that he meant to sue the Acme +Company for about nine million dollars damages to his feelings and his +reputation, if _The Soul of Littlefoot Law_ was released in its present +form. He battered at Luck's grinning composure with his full supply of +invectives. When he perceived that Luck's eyes twinkled more and more +while they watched him, and that Luck's smile was threatening to +explode into laughter, Bently Brown shook his fist at the two of them, +shrilled something about seeing his lawyer at once, and went out and +slammed the door. + +"Lor-dee! He'd make a hit in comedy, that fellow," Luck observed +placidly, and lighted the cigar he had been holding. "What's he mean--' +sue the company'?" + +"He means sue the company," Martinson retorted grimly. "That clause in +the contract where we agree to produce his stories in a manner befitting +the quality and fame of these several stories in fiction; he's got +grounds for action there, and he's going to make the most of it. He's +sore, anyway. Some one's been telling him he practically made us a +present of his stuff." + +"Hell!" said Luck. "Why didn't you say so?" + +"Why didn't you say that you were turning that stuff into farce-comedy?" +Martinson came back sharply. "I could have told you it wouldn't get by. I +knew Brown wouldn't stand for anything like that; and I knew he could put +the gaff into us on that 'manner befitting' clause." + +"It's a wonder you wouldn't have jarred loose from some of that wisdom," +Luck observed tartly. "You never gave me any dope at all on this Bently +Brown person. You handed me the junk he stung you on--and believe me, as +drama he'd have stung you with it as a present!--you handed it to me to +film. I made the most of it." + +"You made a mess of it," Martinson corrected peevishly. + +"You laughed," Luck pointed out laconically. Then his eyes twinkled +suddenly. "'Laugh and the world laughs with you,'" he quoted shamelessly, +and took a long, satisfying suck at his cigar. + +"The world won't step up and pay damages to Bently Brown," Martinson +reminded him, "if that picture is released as it stands. How many have +you made, so far?" + +"I'm finishing the third; getting funnier, too, as they go along." + +"You've got to cut out that funny business. You'll have to retake this +whole thing, Luck; make it straight drama. We can't afford a lawsuit, +these hard times--and injunctions tying up the releases, and damages to +pay when the thing's thrashed out in court. You'll have to retake this +whole picture. Nice bunch of useless expense, I must say, when I've +been chasing nickels off the expense account of this company and +sitting up nights nursing profits! We'll have to cut salaries now, to +break even on this fluke. I've left the payroll alone so far. That's +the worst of a break like this. The whole company has got to pay for +every blunder from now on." + +Luck's eyes hardened while he listened. He did not call his work a +blunder, and the charge did not sit well coming from another. + +"Buy off Bently Brown," he advised crisply. "Offer him a new contract, +naming this stuff as comedy. Advertise them as the famous comedies of +Bently Brown, the well-known author. Show him some good publicity dope +along that line. Give him the credit of making the stories live ones. +This series will be a money-maker, and a big one, if ever they reach the +screen. You're old enough in the business to know that, Mart. You saw how +this film hit the bunch, and you know what it takes to rouse any +enthusiasm in the projection room. And take it from me, Mart--this is +straight!--that's the only way in God's world to make that series take +hold at all. As drama the stuff is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. It's +only by giving it the twist I gave it that it will get over. You do that, +Mart. You kid this Bently Brown into being featured as the humorist of +the age, and pay him a little something for swallowing his disappointment +as a dramatic author. I'll go ahead with my boys, and we'll deliver the +goods. You do that, and you'll be setting up nights counting profits +instead of nursing them!" + +Martinson began to stir up the litter on his desk,--another bad-weather +sign. "I can't waste time talking nonsense," he snapped. "I've got plenty +to do without that. That stuff has got to be retaken; every foot of it, +if you've gone on burlesquing the action. I happen to know that Brown +wouldn't consider such a compromise. You've made a bad break, and I +believe you made the first one when you brought that bunch of cowboys +back with you. If they can do straight dramatic acting, all right; if +not, you'd better let them out and start over with professionals." + +For a peaceable man, Martinson was angry. He had taken some trouble in +smoothing down the ruffled temper of Bently Brown, even before viewing +the trial run of the picture. Martinson hated disputes as a cat hates to +walk in fresh-fallen snow, and the parting tirade of Bently Brown had +affected him unpleasantly. + +For a full two minutes Luck smoked and did not speak, and as he had done +once before, Martinson repented his harshness when it was too late. +"Personally, your version struck me as awfully funny," he began +placatingly. + +"Who gives a cuss how it struck you personally?" Luck stood up with +unexpected haste. "You trim and truckle to every one that comes along +with a gold brick, and that's why you have to sit up nights to nurse the +profits. If you had a little stiffening in your back, the profits would +show up better. You paid good money for this bunch of rot, and turned it +over to me to whip into a profitable investment. You can make the rounds +of the studio and get a vote on whether I've done it or not. Put it up to +your Public; they'll mighty soon let you know whether the film's a +money-getter. If it is, your business as general manager and president of +the Acme Film Company is to get Bently Brown in line for the production +to go on. A clause such as you mention in the agreement with him shows a +bigger blunder on your part than anything I've done or ever will do. If +you'd had as much sense as Ted, you'd have kept that clause out. If you'd +had half as much brains as the comedy burro out in the corral you'd never +have loaded up with that stuff, anyway; you'd have seen at a glance that +it was rotten. + +"Now, I've shown what I can do with those stories. I've taken your bad +bargain and put it into a money-making shape. As to the break I made in +getting those boys out here, you'll have to show me--that's all. They +seem, to have made good all right, judging from the way that film took +with the crowd. And if you ask my opinion as a director, they beat any +near-professional on the Acme pay roll. My work, and their work, goes +right along as it has started--or it stops. If you want those stories +worked up in a lot of darned, sickly, slush melodrama, you can set some +simp at it that don't know any better." Luck stopped and shut his teeth +together against some personal remarks that he would later feel ashamed +of having uttered. He turned to the door, swallowed hard, and forced +himself to a dignified calm before he spoke again. + +"You know my phone number, Mart. By seven in the morning I'll expect to +hear from you. You can tell me then whether I'm to go ahead with these +stories the way I've started, or whether to pull out of the Company +altogether. One or the other. I'll want to know in the morning." Then +he went out. + +"Dammit, who's running this company--you or I?" Martinson called +after him heatedly. But Luck was already standing on the steps and +hoisting his umbrella against the drizzle, and he did not give any +sign that he heard. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHT + +"THERE'S GOT TO BE A LINE DRAWED SOMEWHERES" + + +By seven o'clock in the morning,--since that was his ultimatum,--Luck +was standing in his bare feet and pajamas, acrimoniously arguing with +Martinson over the telephone. Usually he was up at six, but he was a +stubborn young man, and the day promised much rainfall, anyway. He +would have preferred sunshine; the stand he meant to take would have +had more weight in working weather. But since he could not prevent the +morning from being a rainy one, he permitted more determination to slip +into his tones. + +Martinson had spent an unpleasant evening with Bently Brown, or so he +declared. He had called up several stockholders of the Acme, and had +talked the matter over with them, and-- + +"Well, cut the preamble, Mart," snapped Luck, trying to warm one foot by +rubbing it with the other one. "Do I go on with the work, or don't I?" + +"From the looks of the weather--" Mart began to temporize. + +"Weather cuts no figure with this matter. You know what I mean. What's +the decision?" Luck scowled at the pretty girl on his wall calendar, and +began to rub his right foot with the left and to curse the janitor with +that part of his brain not occupied with the conversation. + +"Well, listen. You come out to the office, after awhile, and we'll go +into this matter calmly," begged Martinson. "No use in letting that +temper of yours run away with you, Luck. You know we all--" + +"What did Bently Brown say? Did you put the proposition up to him as I +suggested?" + +"Luck, you know I told you Brown wouldn't consider--" + +"Say, Mart, get all those rambling words out of your system, and then +call me up and tell me what I want to know!" And Luck hung up the +receiver and went shivering back to bed. From the things he said to +himself, he was letting that temper of his run away with him in spite of +Martinson's warning. + +He had just ceased having spasms of shivering, and had found his warm +nest of the night, and was feeling glad that it was raining so that he +could stay in bed as long as he liked, when the phone jingled shrilly +again. Had he been certain that it was Martinson, Luck would have lain +there and let it ring itself tired. But there is always the doubt when a +telephone bell calls peremptorily. He waited sulkily until the girl at +the switchboard in the office below settled down to prolong the siege. +Luck knew that girl would never quit now that she was sure he was in. He +crawled out again, this time dragging the bedspread with him for drapery. + +"H'l-lo!" There was no compromise in his voice, which was guttural. + +"Luck? This is Martinson. You are to retake all of the Bently Brown +pictures which you have made so far, under the personal supervision of +Bently Brown himself, who will pass upon all film before accepted by the +company. This is final." + +"Martinson? This is Luck. You and Bently Brown and the Acme Film Company +can go where the heat's never turned off. This is final." + +Whereupon Luck slammed the receiver into its brackets, trailed over to a +table and gleaned "the makings" from among the litter of papers, +programs, "stills," and letters, and rolled himself a much-needed smoke. +He was sorry chiefly because he had been compelled to use such mild +language over the telephone. It would be almost worth a trip to the +office just to tell Martinson without stint what he thought of him and +all his works. + +He crawled back into bed and smoked his cigarette with due regard for the +bedclothes, and wondered what kind of a fool they took him for if they +imagined for one minute that he would produce so much as a sub-title +under the personal supervision of Bently Brown. + +After awhile it occurred to him that, unless he relented from his final +statement to Martinson, he was a young man out of a job, but that did not +worry him much. Of course, if he left the Acme Company, he would have to +look around for an opening somewhere else, where he could take his Happy +Family and maybe produce.... + +Right there Luck got up and unlocked his trunk, which was also his chest +of treasures, and found the carbon copy of his range scenario. He had +not named it yet. In thinking of it and in talking about it with the +boys he had been content to call it his Big Picture. If he could place +himself and his Big Picture and his boys with some company that would +appreciate the value of the combination, his rupture with the Acme +Company would be simply a bit of good luck. While he huddled close to +the radiator that was beginning to hiss and rumble encouragingly, he +glanced rapidly over the meagerly described scenes which were to his +imagination so full of color. + +"Pam. bleak mesa--snow--cattle drifting before wind. Dale and Johnny dis. +riding to foreground. Reg. cold--horses leg-weary--boys all in--" + +To Luck, sitting there in his pajamas as close as he could get to a +slow-warming steam radiator, those curtailed sentences projected his +mental self into a land of cold and snow and biting wind, where the +cattle drifted dismally before the storm. Andy Green and Miguel Rapponi +were riding slowly toward him on shuffling horses as bone-weary as their +masters. Snow was packed in the wrinkles of the boys' clothing. Snow was +packed in the manes and tails of the horses that moved with their heads +drooping in utter dejection. "Boys all in," said the script laconically. +Luck, staring at the little thread of escaping steam from the radiator +valve, saw Andy and the Native Son drooping in the saddles, swaying +stiffly with the movements of their mounts. He saw them to the last +little detail,--to the drift of snow on their hatbrims and the tiny +icicles clinging to the high collars of their sourdough coats, where +their breath had frozen. + +If he could get a company to let him put that on, he would not care, he +told himself, if he never made another picture in his life. If he could +get a company to send him and the boys where that stuff could be found-- + +Well, it was only eight o'clock in the morning, a rainy morning at that, +when all good movie people would lie late in bed for the pure luxury of +taking their ease. But Luck, besides acting upon strong convictions and +then paying the price without whimpering, never let an impulse grow stale +from want of use. He reached for the fat telephone directory and searched +out the numbers of those motion-picture companies which he did not +remember readily. Then, beginning at the first number on his hastily +compiled list, he woke five different managers out of their precious +eight-o'clock sleep to answer his questions. + +Whatever they may have thought of Luck Lindsay just then, they replied +politely, and did not tell him offhand that there was no possible opening +for him in their companies. Three of them made appointments with him at +their offices. One promised to call him up just as soon as he "had a line +on anything." One said that, with the rainy weather coming on, they were +cutting down to straight studio stuff, but that he would keep Luck in +mind if anything turned up. + +Then I suppose the whole five called him names behind his back, +figuratively speaking, for being such an early riser on such a day. Not +one of them asked him any questions about his reasons for leaving the +Acme; reasons, in the motion-picture business, are generally invented +upon demand and have but a fictitious value at best. And since it is +never a matter of surprise when any director or any member of any company +decides to try a new field, it would seem that change is one of the most +unchanging features of the business. + +Luck had no qualms of conscience, either for his treatment of Martinson +and his overtures, or for his disturbances of five other perfectly +inoffensive movie managers. He dressed with mechanical precision and with +his mind shuttling back and forth from his Big Picture to the +possibilities of his next position. He folded his scenario and placed it +in a long envelope, hunted until he found his rubbers, took his raincoat +over his arm and his umbrella in his hand, and went blithely to the +elevator. It was too stormy for his machine, so he caught a street car +and went straight to the bungalow where the Happy Family were still +snoring at peace with the world and each other. + +Still Luck had no qualms of conscience. He lingered in the kitchen just +long enough to say howdy to Rosemary Green who was anxiously watching a +new and much admired coffee percolator "to see if it were going to perk," +she told him gravely. He assured Rosemary that he had come all the way +out there in the hope of being invited to breakfast. Then he went into a +sleep-charged atmosphere and gave a real, old-time range yell. + +"Why, I saw that peaked little person with Mr. Martinson," Mrs. Andy +remarked slightingly at the breakfast table. "Was that Bently Brown? +And he has the nerve to want to stand around and boss you--oh, find, me +an umbrella, somebody! I shall choke if I can't go and tell him to his +silly, pink face what a conceited little idiot he is!" (You will see +why it was that Rosemary Green had been adopted without question as a +member of the Happy Family.) "I hope you told him straight out, Luck +Lindsay, that these boys would simply tear him limb from limb if he +ever dared to butt in on your work. Why, it's you that made the picture +fit to look at!" + +Luck let his eyes thank her for her loyalty, and held out his empty cup +for more coffee. "I came out," he drawled quietly, "to find out what you +fellows are going to do about it. Of course, they'll get somebody else to +go ahead with the stuff, and you boys can stay with it--" + +"Well, say! Did you come away out here in the rain to insult us fellers?" +Big Medicine roared suddenly from the foot of the table. "I'll take a lot +from you, but by cripes they's got to be a line drawed somewheres!" + +"You bet. And right there's where we draw it, Luck," spoke up the dried +little man who seldom spoke at the table, but concentrated his attention +upon the joy of eating what Mrs. Andy set before him. "I come out here +to work for you. That peters out, by gorry I'll go back to chufferin a +baggage truck in Sioux, North Dakoty. Kin I have a drop more coffee, +Mrs. Green?" + +While Rosemary proudly brought her new percolator in from the kitchen and +refilled his cup, Luck Lindsay sat and endured the greatest +tongue-lashing of his life. Furthermore, he seemed to enjoy the chorus of +reproaches and threats and recriminations. He chuckled over the eloquence +of Andy Green, and he grinned at the belligerence of Pink and the +melancholy of Happy Jack. + +"I don't guess you're crazy to work under Bently Brown," he finally +managed to slide into the uproar. "Do I get you as meaning to stick with +me--wherever I go?" + +"You get us that way or you get licked," Weary, the mild-tempered one, +stated flatly. "You can fire us and send us home, but you can't walk off +and leave us with the Acme, 'cause we won't stay." + +That was what Luck had ridden twelve cold, rainy miles to hear the Happy +Family declare. He had expected them to take that stand, but it was good +to hear it spoken in just that tone of finality. He stacked his cup and +saucer in his plate, laid his knife and fork across them in the old range +style, and began to roll a cigarette,--smoking at the table being another +comfortable little bad habit which Rosemary Green wisely and smilingly +permitted. + +"That being the case," he began cheerfully, "you boys had best go over +with me now and give in your two weeks' notice. I'm director of our +company till I quit--see? I'll arrange for your transportation home--" + +"Aw, gwan! Who said we was goin' home?" wailed Happy Jack distressfully. + +"Now, listen! You're entitled to your transportation money. That doesn't +mean you'll have to use it for that purpose--sabe? It's coming to you, +and you get it. There's a week's salary due all around, too, besides the +two weeks you'll get by giving notice. No use passing up any bets like +that. So let's go, boys. I've got an appointment at one o'clock, and I +may as well wipe the Acme slate clean this forenoon, so I can talk +business without any come-back from Mart, or any tag ends to pick up. +Grab your slickers and let's move." + +That was a busy day for Luck Lindsay, in spite of the fact that it was a +stormy one. His interview with Mart, which he endured mostly for the sake +of the Happy Family, developed into a quarrel which severed beyond +mending his connection with the Acme. + +It was noon when he reached his hotel, and his wrath had not cooled with +the trip into town. There were two 'phone calls in his mail, he +discovered, and one bore an urgent request that he call Hollywood +something-or-other the moment he returned. This was from the Great +Western Film Company, and Luck's eyes brightened while he read it. He +went straight to his room and called up the Great Western. + +Presently he found himself speaking to the great Dewitt himself, and his +blood was racing with the possibilities of the interview. Dewitt had +heard that Luck was leaving the Acme--extras may be depended upon for +carrying gossip from one studio to another,--and was wasting no time in +offering him a position. His Western director, Robert Grant Burns whom +Luck knew well, had been carried to the hospital with typhoid fever which +he had contracted while out with his company in what is known as Nigger +Sloughs,--a locality more picturesque than healthful. Dewitt feared that +it was going to be a long illness at the very best. Would Luck consider +taking the company and going on with the big five-reel feature which +Burns had just begun? Dewitt was prepared to offer special inducements +and to make the position a permanent one. He would give Burns a dramatic +company to produce features at the studio, he said, and would give Luck +the privilege of choosing his own scenarios and producing them in his own +way. Could Luck arrange to meet Dewitt at four that afternoon? + +Luck could, by cancelling his appointment with a smaller and less +important company, which he did promptly and with no compunctions +whatever. He did more than that; he postponed the other two appointments, +knowing in his heart that his chances would not be lessened thereby. +After that he built a castle or two while he waited for the appointment. +The Great Western Company had been a step higher than he had hoped to +reach. Robert Grant Burns he had considered a fixture with the company. +It had never entered his mind that he might possibly land within the +Great Western's high concrete wall,--and that other wall which was higher +and had fewer gates, and which was invisible withal. That the great +Dewitt himself should seek Luck out was just a bit staggering. He wanted +to go out and tell the bunch about it, but he decided to wait until +everything was settled. Most of all he wanted the Acme to know that +Dewitt wanted him; that would be a real slap in the face of Mart's +judgment, a vindication of Luck's abilities as a director. + +What Luck did was to telephone the hospital and learn all he could about +Burns' condition. He was genuinely sorry that Burns was sick, even though +he was mightily proud of being chosen as Burns' successor. He even found +himself thinking more about Burns, after the first inner excitement wore +itself out, than about himself. Burns was a good old scout. Luck hated to +think of him lying helpless in the grip of typhoid. So it was with mixed +emotions that he went to see Dewitt. + +Dewitt wanted Luck--wanted him badly. He was frank enough to let Luck see +how much he wanted him. He even told Luck that, all things being equal, +he considered Luck a better Western director than was Robert Grant Burns, +in spite of the fact that Burns had scored a big success with his _Jean, +of the Lazy A_ serial. You cannot wonder that Luck's spirits rose to +buoyancy when he heard that. Also, Dewitt named a salary bigger than Luck +had ever received in his life, and nearly double what the Acme had paid +him. Luck spoke of his Big Picture, and when he outlined it briefly, +Dewitt did not say that it seemed to lack action. + +Dewitt had watched Luck with his keen blue eyes, and had observed that +Luck owned that priceless element of success, which is enthusiasm for his +work. Dewitt had listened, and had told Luck that he would like to see +the Big Picture go on the screen, and that he would be willing to pay him +for the scenario and let him make it where and how he pleased. He even +volunteered to try and persuade Jean Douglas, of _Lazy A_ fame, to come +back and play the leading woman's part. + +"That's one thing that has been bothering me a little," Luck owned +gratefully. "Of course I considered her absolutely out of reach. But with +her for my leading woman, and the boys holding up the range end as +they're capable of doing--" + +Dewitt gave him a quick look. "Yes, my boys are able to do that," he said +distinctly. "They have been well trained in Western dramatic work." + +Luck braced himself. "When I mentioned the boys," he said, "I meant +my boys that I brought from the Flying U outfit, up in Montana. They +go with me." + +Dewitt did not answer that statement immediately. He inspected his finger +nails thoughtfully before he glanced up. "It's a pity, but I'm afraid +that cannot be managed, Mr. Lindsay. The boys in my Western company have +been with me, some of them, since the Independent Sales Company was +organized. They worked for next to nothing till I got things started. Two +or three are under contracts. You will understand me when I say that my +boys must stay where they are." He waited for a minute, and watched +Luck's face grow sober. "I have heard about your Happy Family," he added. +"There has been a good deal of discussion, I imagine, among the studios +about them. Ordinarily I should be glad to have you bring those boys with +you; but as matters stand, it is impossible. Our Western Company is full, +and I could not let these boys go to make room for strangers,--however +good those strangers might be. You understand?" + +"Certainly I understand." But Luck's face did not brighten. + +"Can't they stay on with the Acme? From what I hear, the Acme's Western +Company is not large at best." + +"They can stay, yes. But they won't. The whole bunch gave in their +two weeks' notice this morning." There was a grim satisfaction in +Luck's tone. + +"Left when you did, I suppose?" + +"That's just exactly what they did. I told them they better stay, and +they nearly lynched me for it." + +"Have you made any agreement with them in regard to placing them with +another company--for instance?" + +"Certainly not. Some things don't have to be set down in black and +white." + +"I--see." Dewitt did see. What he saw worried him, even though it +increased his respect for Luck Lindsay. He studied his nails more +critically than before. + +"These boys--have they any resources at all, other than their work in +pictures? Did they burn their bridges when they came with you?" + +"Oh, far as that goes, they've all got ranches. They wouldn't starve." +Luck's voice was inclined to gruffness under quizzing. + +"As I see the situation," Dewitt went on evenly and with a logic that +made Luck squirm with its very truthfulness, "they left their ranches and +came with you to work in pictures in a spirit of adventure, we might say. +There is a glamour; and your personal influence, your enthusiasm, had its +effect. Should they go back to their ranches now, they would carry back a +fresh outlook and a fund of experiences that would season conversation +agreeably for months to come. They will not have lost financially, I take +it. They will have had a vacation which has in many ways been a +profitable one. Should the question be laid before them, I venture the +assertion that they would urge you to take this position with us. + +"They would feel some disappointment of course--just as you would feel +sorry not to be able to bring them with you. But no reasonable man would +blame you or expect you to bear the handicap of six or seven +inexperienced young fellows. You must see that your only hope of placing +them would be with some new company just starting up. And this is not the +season for young companies. Next spring you might stand a better chance." + +"Yes, that's all true enough," Luck admitted, since Dewitt plainly +expected some reply. "At the same time--" + +"There is no immediate need of a decision," Dewitt hastily completed +Luck's sentence. "From all weather reports, this storm is going to be a +long one. I doubt very much if you could get to work for several days. +I wish you would think it over from all sides before you accept or +refuse the proposition, Mr. Lindsay. Lay the matter before your boys; +tell them frankly just how things stand. I'll guarantee they will +insist upon your accepting the position. I know, and you know, that it +will give you a better opportunity than you have had in some time. And +I am going to say candidly that I believe you need only the opportunity +to make your work stand out above all the others. That is why I sent +for you this morning. I believe you have big possibilities, and I want +you with the Great Western." + +There was that instant of silence which terminates all conferences. Then +Luck rose, and Dewitt tilted back his office chair and swung it away from +the desk so that he was still facing Luck. So the two looked at each +other measuringly for a moment. + +"I certainly appreciate your good opinion of me, Mr. Dewitt," Luck said. +"Whether I take the place or not, I want to thank you for offering it to +me. It all looks fine--the chance of my life; but I can't--" + +"No, don't say any more." Dewitt raised his hand. "You do as I +suggest; tell the boys just what has passed, if you like. Let them +decide for you." + +"No, that wouldn't be fair. They'd decide for my interests and forget +about their own. I know that." + +"Well, let's just wait a day or two. You think it over. Think what you +could do with Jean Douglas, for instance. I'll try and get her back; I +think perhaps I can. She's married, but I think they'll both come if I +make it worth their while. Come and see me day after to-morrow, will you? +We'll say four o'clock again. Good-by." + +So Luck went away with temptation whispering in his ear. + + + + +CHAPTER NINE + +LEAVE IT TO THE BUNCH + + +Not a word did Luck say to the Happy Family about his big opportunity. +Instead, he avoided them half guiltily, and he filled the next day and +the one after that by seeing, or trying to see, the head of every motion +picture company in that part of the State. He even sent a night letter to +a big company at Santa Barbara. Always he stipulated that he must take +his own cowboys with him and have a free hand in the production of +Western pictures--since he did not mean to risk having another irate +author descend upon him with threats of a lawsuit. + +By three o'clock of the day when he was to give Dewitt his decision, +Luck was convinced that the two conditions he never failed to mention +were as two iron bars across every trail that might otherwise have been +open to him. No motion picture company seemed to feel that it needed +seven inexperienced men on its payroll. A few general managers +suggested letting them work as extras, but the majority could not see +the proposition at all. They were more willing to give Luck the free +hand which he demanded, had negotiations ever reached that far, which +they did not. + +The Happy Family, Luck was forced to admit to himself, was a very serious +handicap for an out-of-work director to carry at the beginning of the +rainy season. He did his best, and he spent two sleepless nights over the +doing, but he simply could not land them anywhere. He talked himself +hoarse for them, he painted them geniuses all; he declared that they +would make themselves and their company--supposing they were +accepted--famous for Western pictures. He worked harder to place them in +the business than he would ever work to find himself a job, and he failed +absolutely. + +Dewitt's eyes questioned him the moment he stood inside the office. +Dewitt had heard something of Luck's efforts since their last meeting; +and although he admired Luck the more for his loyalty, he felt quite +certain that now he was convinced of his defeat, Luck would hesitate no +longer over stepping into the official shoes of Robert Grant Burns, who +was lying on his broad back, and shouting pitifully futile commands to +his company and asking an imaginary camera-man questions which were as +Greek to the soft-footed nurse. Dewitt, having just come from a visit to +Burns, had a vivid mental picture of that ward in the Sister's hospital. +But alongside that picture was another, quite as vivid, of Luck Lindsay +standing beside Pete Lowry's camera with a script in his hand, explaining +to Jean Douglas the business of some particular scene. + +"Well?" queried Dewitt, and motioned Luck to a chair. + +"Well," Luck echoed, and stopped for a breath. "No use wasting time, Mr. +Dewitt. I can't take any position that doesn't include the Flying U boys. +I'm certainly sorry that prevents my accepting your offer. I appreciate +all it would mean for me and for my Big Picture to be with you. But--some +things mean more--" + +"You're under no obligations to tie your own hands just because theirs +are not free," Dewitt reminded him sharply. + +"I know I'm not." + +"Can you figure where it will be to their advantage for you to refuse a +good position just because they happen to be out of work?" + +"I'm not trying to figure anything like that. Some things don't have to +be figured. Some things just are! Do you see what I mean? Those boys +didn't wait to do any figuring. When I quit the Acme, they quit--just as +a matter of course. If I were as loyal to them as they have been to me, +Mr. Dewitt, I wouldn't have taken two days to give you my answer. I'd +have told you day before yesterday what I'm telling you now." + +Dewitt did not reply at once. When he did speak he seemed to be answering +an argument within himself. + +"I can't let my own boys go to make room for yours. That is absolutely +out of the question. There is a little matter of loyalty there, also." + +"I know there is. I don't know that I should want you to let them go. +We're both in the same position almost. And we're at a deadlock, Mr. +Dewitt. I'm certainly sorry that I can't sign up with you." + +"So am I, young man. So am I. Come back if things shape themselves so you +can see your way clear to directing my Western company. I've an idea your +boys will be going back to their ranches before the holidays. In case +they do, let me hear from you." + +That was more than Luck had any right to expect, and he had the sense to +realize it. He thanked Dewitt and promised, and went away with something +of a load off his mind. He could go now and face the Happy Family without +feeling himself another Judas. + +He found them sitting around waiting for their supper and trying to +invent new words to fit their disgust with the Acme Film Company. They +greeted Luck as though they had not seen him for a month. + +"Bully for you, Luck!" Andy shouted, and gave him an approving slap on +the shoulder that sent him skating dangerously toward the table. "Best +job in town just came a-running up to you and says, 'Please take me!'--so +they say. That right?" + +"Yeah--what about this here Great Western gitting its loop on you first +thing?" bawled Big Medicine gleefully. "By cripes, that's sure one on the +Acme bunch! They'll wisht they wasn't quite so fresh, givin' that little +tin imitation of an author so much rope. Me 'n' Pink was over to the +studio to-day; honest to grandma, they was a sick lookin' bunch around +there. Me 'n' Pink sure throwed it into 'em too, about letting the only +real man they had git away from 'em the way they done." + +"My gorry, son, I sure am tickled to see yuh light with both feet +under yuh, like they say you done. I heard tell the Great Western's +going to let yuh put on your own pitcher; I guess them Acme folks'll +feel kinda foolish when they see it," declared the dried little man, +grinning over his pipe. + +Luck was fighting his bewilderment and framing a demand for explanations +when Rosemary bustled in from the kitchen. + +"Oh, but we're glad, Luck Lindsay!" she began in her quick, emphatic way. +"We all feel like a million dollars over your good luck. We're going to +have fried chicken and strawberry shortcake for supper, too, just for a +celebration. I knew you'd come out and tell us all about it. So sit right +down, everybody, and keep still so Luck can tell us just what everybody +said to the other fellow, and how Dewitt happened to get hold of him so +quickly. Is it true? The boys heard you were going to get two hundred +dollars a week!" + +"Not get it--no." Luck unfolded his napkin with fingers that shook a +little. "I was offered it, but I'm not going to take it." + +"Not--why, Luck Lindsay!" Rosemary very nearly dropped her new +percolator. + +"_Y' ain't_?" + +"Aw, gwan! Only reason I wouldn't take two hundred a week would be +because I'd drop dead at the chance and couldn't." + +"Well, listen. There's one point that hasn't spilled into studio gossip +yet," Luck managed to slip into the uproar. "I didn't take the place. +There were some details we couldn't get together on, so I thanked him and +turned it down." + +There was silence, while the Happy Family stared at him. + +"What dee-tails was them?" Big Medicine demanded belligerently. "Way I +heard it--" + +"Studio gossip," Luck interrupted hastily. "You can't depend on anything +you hear passed around amongst the extras. We failed to agree on certain +technical details. I haven't any more job than a jack rabbit; let it go +at that. What have you fellows been doing?" + +"Us? Why, the Acme's goin' to give us absent, treatment from now on," +Andy stated cheerfully. "They're paying us thirty a week apiece to stay +away from 'em--and I sure never earned money easier than that. Clements +is going to take orders from that so-called author, and he told me +straight out that they'll be using actors in those stories." + +"They'll need 'em," Luck commented drily. "You're in luck that they don't +want you to work. Any other news?" + +"You bet they's other news!" roared Big Medicine, goggling across the +table at Luck. "I rustled me a job, by cripes! Soon as this rain's +over, I'm goin' to cash in my face fer two dollars a day with the +Sunset. Feller over there wants me bad fer atmosphere in a pitcher he's +goin' to make of the Figy Islands. Feller claims he can clothe me in a +nigger wig and a handful of grass and get more atmosphere, by cripes, +to the square inch--" + +Rosemary gasped and bolted for the kitchen. When she came back, red-faced +and still gurgling spasmodically, Pink was relating his experiences with +another company. He and the Native Son and Weary, it transpired, were +duly enrolled upon the extra list and were reasonably sure of a day's +work now and then. Rosemary had paid her Japanese maid and let her go, +and Andy was going to help her with the housework until the industrial +problem was solved. She listened for a minute and then made a suggestion +of her own. + +"We're all in the same boat," she said, "and by just sticking together, I +know we'll come out swimmingly. Why don't you leave the hotel, and come +out here and batch with us, Luck? It would be so much cheaper; and I can +turn that couch in the kitchen into a bed, easy as anything. I'd like to +shake that Great Western Company for acting the way they have with you. +Think of offering a man a two-hundred-a-week position and then +haggling--" + +"Say, Luck," the dried little man spoke up suddenly, "how much does one +of them there camaries cost? I'd be willin' to chip in and help buy one; +and, by gorry, we could make some movin' pitchers of our own and sell +'em, if we caji't do no better." He craned his neck and peered the length +of the table at Luck. "Ain't no law ag'in it, is there?" he challenged. + +"No, there's no law against it." Luck closed his lips against further +comment. The idea was like a sudden blow upon the door of his +imagination. + +The Happy Family looked at one another inquiringly. They had never +thought of doing anything like that. The dried little man may have +meditated much upon the subject, but he certainly had not given a hint of +it to any of them. + +"Oh, why couldn't you boys do that?" Rosemary exclaimed breathlessly. + +Luck stirred his coffee carefully and did not look up. "Don't run away +with the idea that you can buy a camera for twenty or thirty dollars," he +quelled. "A camera, complete with tripod, lenses, magazines, and cases, +would cost about fourteen hundred dollars--at least." + +That, as he had expected it to do, rather feazed the Happy Family for a +few minutes. They became interested in the food they were eating, and +their eyes did not stray far from their plates. + +"I can ante two hundred," Weary remarked at last with elaborate +carelessness, reaching for more butter. + +"See yuh and raise yuh fifty," Andy Green retorted briskly. "I've got a +wife that's learning me to save money." + +"You can count my chips for all I got." Pink's dimples showed briefly. +"I'll go through my pockets when I get filled up, and see how rich I am. +But, anyway, there's a couple of hundred I know I've got,--counting Acme +handouts and all." + +"We-ell--" the dried little man laid down his fork to rub his chin +thoughtfully, "I never had much call to spend money in Sioux, +North-Dakoty. I batched and lived savin'. I can put in half of that +fourteen hundred--mebby a little mite more." + +"Well, by cripes, I got a boy t' look out fer, and I ain't rich as some, +but all I got goes in the pot!" cried Big Medicine impulsively. + +Luck leaned back in his chair and regarded the flushed faces +enigmatically. "This is all good material for an argument on our +financial standing," he said, "but if you're taking yourselves seriously, +let me tell you something before you go any farther. Buying a camera is +only a starter. Besides, I wouldn't play with little stuff and compete +with these big, established companies releasing on regular programs. Say, +for the sake of argument, that we cooperate and go into this; all I'd +handle would be features,--State's rights stuff. (Make big four-or-five +reelers, and sell the rights in as many States as possible; that's what +it amounts to.) But it isn't a thing to play with, boys. Let's do our +joking about something else." + +Rosemary set her two elbows upon the table, clasped her hands together, +and dropped her chin upon them so that she was looking at Luck from under +her eyebrows. That pose meant determination and an argumentative mood. + +"I've been doing a little mental arithmetic," she began. "Also I've done +a little thinking. I know now what spoiled that Great Western offer for +you, Luck Lindsay. It was because they wouldn't take the boys too. And +you turned it down because you--oh, they're the 'technical details,' +young man! You see? Your eyes give you away. I knew it, once the idea +popped into my head. What do you think of a fellow like that, boys? +Refused a two-hundred-a-week position because he couldn't get you fellows +a job too." + +"That two hundred seems to worry you a good deal," Luck muttered, crimson +to his collar. + +"Now don't interrupt, because I shall keep right on talking just the +same. I've a lot more to say. Do you realize that the donations these +boys have made already amounts to over fifteen hundred dollars? And that +does not include Happy Jack or Miguel, because they haven't--" + +"Aw, gwan! I never had a chanct to git a word in edgeways," Happy +hurriedly defended his seeming parsimony. "I'm willin' to chip in." + +"Well, the point is this: Why not all put in what you can, and just go +out where there are cattle, and make your Big Picture, Luck Lindsay? We +could live in the country cheaper than we can here: and there wouldn't be +anything to buy but grub,--just a bag of beans and some flour and coffee. +I'd be willing to starve for the sake of making that Big Picture!" + +"By gracious, there's our transportation money, too!" Andy broke another +short silence. "Three hundred and fifty, right there in a lump." + +"Let it stay transportation money, too!" Rosemary advised quickly. "It +can transport you fellows to where Luck wants to make his picture." + +They waited then for Luck to speak, but he was too busy thinking. On his +shoulders would rest the responsibility of the outfit. On his word they +would rely absolutely and without question. It was no light matter to +lead these men into a venture which would take their time, more hard, +heart-breaking work than they could possibly foresee, and the last dollar +they possessed. He was sorely tempted to try it, but for their sakes he +knew he must not let their enthusiasm sweep away his sober judgment. Had +they owned but half his experience it would be different; but their very +ignorance of the game hampered his decision. + +"Well, boss, how about it?" Andy urged. "Are yuh game to try her a whirl? +We haven't got much, but what we've got is yours if you want to tackle +it. We'll be right with you--till hell's no bigger than a bullet ladle." + +"That's just what holds me back. I'd certainly hate to lead you up +against a losing proposition, boys. And if I went into it, I'd go in over +my eyebrows; if I didn't make good I wouldn't have the price of a tag on +a ten-cent sack of Bull Durham when I quit; so I couldn't pay you back--" + +"Aw, thunder! Think we never set into a poker game in our lives? Think +we're in the habit of hollerin' for our chips back when we lose? What's +the matter with yuh, anyway?" cried Big Medicine wrathfully. + +"Why, of course we share the risk of losing!" Rosemary scowled at him +indignantly. "We'll go in over our eyebrows, too,--and stand on our toes +long as we can, to keep our scalp locks showing above water!" Her brown +eyes twinkled a swift glance around the table. "If you think these boys +are quitters, Luck Lindsay, you just ought to have been around when they +were hanging on to their homesteads! I could tell you things--" + +"You say buying a camera is just a starter. How much do you figure it +would cost to make our Big Picture? Cutting out salaries and all such +little luxuries, what would the actual expenses be--making a rough +guess?" Weary leaned forward over his plate and forgot all about his +tempting wedge of shortcake. + +Luck pushed back his plate and smiled his smile. "For the Big Picture," +he began, while the Happy Family leaned to listen, "there'd be the camera +and outfit,--I could pick up some things second hand,--we'll call that +fourteen hundred and fifty. Then there would be at least five thousand +feet of film: perforated raw stock I could get for about three and three +quarter cents a foot. Say a couple, of hundred dollars for that. We'd +need at least three dozen radium flares for our night scenes; they cost +close around twenty dollars a dozen. And one or two light +diffusers,--that's just to get us started with an outfit, remember. Then +there'd be our transportation to Albuquerque, New Mexico. I know that +country, and I know what I can do there. I'd hit straight for a ranch I +know between Bear Canyon and Rincon Arroyo--belongs to an old fellow that +sure is a character, too, in his way. Old bachelor, he is; got some +cattle and horses, and round-pole corrals and the like of that. I know +old Applehead Forrman like I know my right hand; we'd make Applehead's +place our headquarters--see? Exterior stuff we'd have right there, ready +to shoot without any expense. As for interiors,--say! any of you fellows +handy with hammer and saw?" + +"By gracious, we all are!" Andy declared quickly. "We learned our little +lessons when we were building claim shacks for ourselves." + +"Good enough! You boys could be stage mechanics as well as leading men," +Luck grinned. "Add hammers and saws to the outfit. We'd have to build a +few interior sets." + +Rosemary had her eyebrows tied in little knots, she was thinking so fast. +"I'll write the Little Doctor that she can have my silver teaset," she +informed Andy impulsively. "She offered me fifty dollars for it, you +know. That would buy lots of beans!" + +Luck looked at her, but he did not say what was in his mind. Instead he +reached into an inner pocket and drew out his passbook, "I've got +eighteen hundred and ninety-five dollars in the bank," he announced, +reading the figures aloud. "And my car ought to bring three or four +thousand,--if I can find the man that tried to buy it a month or so +before I took the Injuns back. She's a pippin, boys!--" + +"Oh, your lovely, big, white machine!" wailed Rosemary. "Would you have +to sell it, Luck? Couldn't we squeak along without that?" + +"Aw, you don't want to sell your car!" Pink protested. "I know where I +can borrow two or three hundred. Maybe the Old Man--" + +"We'll put this thing through alone, if we do it at all," Luck told him +bluntly. "Can't afford to work with borrowed capital; the risk is too +great. Sure, I'll sell the car. I was thinking of it, anyway," he +testified falsely but reassuringly. "We'll need every cent I can raise. +There's chemicals and Lord knows what all; and when we come to making our +prints and marketing, why--" he threw out both hands expressively. "If we +land in Albuquerque with five thousand dollars and our outfit, we won't +have a cent to throw away. At that, we'll have to squeeze every nickel +till it hollers, before we're through. Believe me, boys, this is going to +be some undertaking!" + +"Nice, comfortable way you've got of painting things cheerful," the +Native Son drawled ironically. + +"That's all right. I want you to realize what it's going to be like +before you get in so far you can't back out." + +"Aw, who's said anything about backing out?" Happy Jack grumbled. + +"Let's get right down to brass tacks and see how strong we can go on +money," Andy suggested, pulling a pencil out of an inner pocket. "Here, +girl, you do the bookkeeping while we call off the size of our pile. Put +'er down in this book till you can get another one. You can set me down +for two seventy-five--or make it three hundred. I can scrape it up, all +right. How about you, Pink? This is hard-boiled figures, now, and no +guess work." + +Pink blew a mouthful of smoke while he did a little mental calculation. +Then he took his twisted-leather purse and emptied it into his saucer. He +investigated all his pockets and added eighty-five cents in small change. +Then he gravely began to count, not disdaining three pennies in the pile. +"I've got seventy-five dollars in the bank," he said. "Add ninety dollars +salary, and you have a hundred and sixty-five. Add six dollars and +eighty-seven cents, and you have--my pile." + +Rosemary twisted her lips and wrote the figures opposite Pink's name. +Next came Weary, then Miguel and Big Medicine and the dried little man +who chewed violently upon a wooden toothpick and said he was good for +eight hundred, and mebby a little mite more. + +They pushed their plates to the table's center to make room for their +gesticulating hands and uneasy elbows while they planned ways and means. +They argued over trivial points and left the big ones for Luck to settle. +They talked of light effects and wholesale grocery lists and ray filters +and smoke pots and railroad fares and the problem of cutting down their +baggage so as to avoid paying excess charges. Luck, once he had taken the +mental plunge into the deep waters of so hazardous an enterprise, began +to exhibit a most amazing knowledge of the details of picture making. + +To save money, he told them, he would be his own camera man. He could do +without a "still" camera, because he would enlarge clippings from the +different scenes in the negative instead. They'd have to manage the range +stuff with only one camera, which would mean more work to get the various +effects. But with a telephoto lens and a wide angle lens he could come +pretty near putting it over the way he wanted it. "And there'll be no +more blank ammunition, boys," he told them. "So you want to fit +yourselves out with real shells. I'm not going very strong on this +foreground bullet-effect stuff; we can afford to leave that for the +Western four-flushers that can't do anything else. But she's some wild +down where we'll be located, so we'll not be packing empty guns, at that. + +"And there's another thing," he went on, talking and making notes at the +same time. "If we're going to do this, we can't get started any too +soon. We may be able to hit a late round-up and get some scenes, which +will save rounding up stock ourselves for it. And there's all that +winter stuff to make, too; we haven't any more time to throw away than +we have money." + +"Well, we're ready to hit the trail any time you are," Andy declared. +"To-morrow, if yuh say so. You go ahead with your end of it, Luck, and +I'll be straw boss here in camp and get the outfit packed and ready to +ship outa here on an hour's notice. I can do it, too--believe me!" + +"Do you know," said Rosemary, "I'd let James and Weary buy our winter's +supplies and have them sent by freight right on to where we're going. +Things are awfully cheap here. I'll make out a list, and the boys can +attend to that to-morrow. And I'll bake up a lot of stuff for lunches on +the train, too. We're not going to squander money in the dining car." + +"Say, we'll just borry one of them dray teams from the Acme corral, by +cripes, and haul our own stuff to the depot!" Big Medicine exclaimed with +enthusiasm. "Save us four or five dollars right there!" + +Luck rose and reached for his umbrella as though he had just recalled an +important engagement. "I think I know where to find a buyer for my +machine," he said, "so I'll just get on his trail. To-morrow I'll start +getting my camera outfit together. Andy, I'll turn this end of the +expedition over to you; that idea of getting food supplies here is all +right, within certain limits. Don't buy any cheap, weighty stuff here, +because the freight will eat up all you save. But I'll leave that to you +folks; I guess you've had experience enough--" + +"Considering most of us learned our _a-b-c's_ outa Montgomery-Ward +catalogues," Weary observed with a quirk of the lips, "I guess you can +safely leave it to the bunch. Range kids are brought up on them +Wind-river bibles, as we call mail order catalogues. I'll bet you I can +give offhand the freight on anything you can name, from a hair hackamore +to a gang plow." + +"Fly at it, then," laughed Luck, with his hand on the doorknob. "I am +going to be some busy myself. I'll just turn over the transportation +problem to you folks. _Adios_." + +"Prepare to ride in the chair car," Rosemary called after him warningly. +"Even a tourist sleeper is going to be too luxurious for us; we're going +to squeeze nickels till they just squeal!" + +Luck held the door open while he smiled approvingly at her. "That'll be +playing the game right from the start. _Adios_, folks." + + + + +CHAPTER TEN + +UNEXPECTED GUESTS FOR APPLEHEAD + + +Applehead Forrman was worried over his cat, Compadre, which is Spanish +for comrade or something of that sort. It was a blue cat and it was a +big cat, and it had a bellicose disposition, and Applehead was anxious +because it had lately declared war on a neighboring coyote and had not +come out of the battle unscathed. Applehead had heard the disturbance +and had gone out with a rifle and dispersed the coyote, but not until +Compadre had lost half of his tail and a good deal of his +self-assurance. Since that night, almost a week ago, Compadre had been a +changed cat. He had sought dark corners and had yowled when the best +friend he had in the world tried to coax him out to his meals. Applehead +was very patient and very sympathetic, and hunted small game with which +to tempt the invalid's appetite. + +On this day he had a fat prairie dog which he had shot, and he was +carrying it around by a hind leg looking for Compadre and calling "Kitty, +kitty, kitty," in the most seductive tones of which his desert-harshened +vocal chords were capable. He looked under the squat adobe cabin which +held all the odds and ends that had accumulated about the place, and +which he called the "ketch-all." He went over and looked under the water +tank where there was shade and coolness. He went to the stable, and from +there he returned to the adobe house, squat like the "ketch-all" but +larger. There was a hole alongside the fireplace chimney at the end next +the hill, and sometimes when Compadre was especially disenchanted with +his world, he went into the hole and nursed his grievances in dark +seclusion under the house. + +Applehead got down upon all fours and called "Kitty, kitty, kitty," with +his face close to the hole. It was past noon, and Compadre had not had +anything to eat since the night before, when he had lapped up half a +saucer of canned milk and had apathetically licked a slice of bacon. +Applehead put his ear to the hole and imagined he heard a faint meow from +a far corner. He pushed the prairie dog into the aperture and called +"Kitty-kitty-kitty" again coaxingly. + +He was so absorbed in his anxious quest that he did not hear the chuckle +of two wagons coming up through the sand to the corral. He did not even +hear the footsteps of men approaching the house. He did not hear +anything at all except a dismal yowl now and then from the darkness. He +contorted his long person that he might peer into the gloom. He pushed +the prairie dog in as far as he could reach. "Come, kitty-kitty-kitty!" +he coaxed. "Doggone your onery soul, I'm gitting tired of this kinda +performance! You can tromp on me just so fur and no further, now I'm +a-tellin' yuh. That there tail of yourn needs a fresh rag tied to it, +and some salve. But I ain't the burrowin' kind of animal, and I ain't +comin' in under there after yuh. Come, kitty-kitty-kitty! Come on outa +there 'fore I send a charge of birdshot in after yuh!" His voice changed +to a tremulous chant of rising anger. "You wall-eyed, mangy, rat-eatin' +son of a gun, what have I been feedin' yuh fur all these years? You come +outa there! If it wasn't for the love uh God I got in my heart, I'll +fill yuh so full of holes the coyotes'll have to make soup of ye! I'll +sure spread yuh out so thin your hide'll measure up like a mountain +lion! Don't yuh yowl at me like that! Come, kitty-kitty-kitty--ni-ice +kitty! Come to your old pard what ketched yuh the fattest young dog on +the flat for your dinner. Come on, now; you ain't skeered uh me, +shorely! Come on, Compadre--ni-ice kitty!" + +"Let me try!" cried Rosemary behind him, her voice startling old +Applehead so that he knocked his head painfully on the rock foundation as +he jerked himself into a more dignified posture. His eyes widened at the +size of the audience grouped behind him, but he had faced more amazing +sights than that in his eventful career. He got stiffly to his feet and +bowed, the prairie dog dangling limply from his hand. + +"Howdy! Howdy! Pleased to meet yuh," he greeted them dazedly. Then he +spied Luck standing half behind Weary's tall form, and his embarrassed +smile changed to a joyful grin. "Well, danged if it ain't Luck! How are +yuh, boy? I was jest thinkin' about you right this morning. What wind +blowed you into camp? Come right on in, folks. If you're friends of +Luck's, yuh don't need no interduction in this camp. Luck and me's et +outa the same skillet months on end together. Come on in. I've et, but +they's plenty left." His blue eyes twinkled quizzically over the Happy +Family and then went to Luck. "What yuh up to this time, boy? 'Nother +wild-west show?" + +While they were waiting for coffee to boil, Luck told him what he was up +to this time. Told him what it was he meant to do in the way of making a +Western picture that should be worthy the West. He did not say a word +about needing Applehead's assistance; he did not need to say a word about +that. Applehead himself saw where he would fit into the scheme, and he +seemed to take it for granted that Luck saw it also. + +"Got all your stuff out from town?" he asked, while he was hunting cups +enough to go around. "If yuh ain't, you can send a couple of the boys in +with a four-horse team after dinner. I d'no about beds, unless yuh got +your own beddin'-rolls with yuh. The missus, she can have a room, and the +rest of yuh will have to knock some bunks together. Mebby we can clean +out the 'ketch-all' and turn that into a bunk house. One I had, it burnt +down last winter; some darn-fool Mexicans got to fightin' in there and +kicked the lamp over. It could have a new roof put on, I reckon; the +walls is there yet. You can take a look around after you eat, and see +what all there is to do. Well, set up, folks; ain't much, but I've +throwed my feet under the table fer less and was thankful to git it, now +I'm a-tellin' yuh!" + +Big Medicine bethought him of the remains of the train lunch which they +had frugally saved. He brought that and added it to Applehead's +impromptu meal. The sandwiches were mashed flat, and the pickles were +limp, and the cake much inclined to crumble, but Applehead gave one look +and took off his hat. + +"I've et, but I can shore eat again when I git my eyes on cake," he +declared exuberantly, and pulled an empty box up to the table for a seat. +"I wisht Compadre could git a smell uh that there fried chicken; it would +put new life into him, which he needs after tangling with that there +coyote 'tother night." + +"We ought to unhitch and give the horses a feed," Luck suggested. "Any +particular place?" + +"Well, you know where to put them cayuses as well as I do," Applehead +mumbled, with his mouth full of cake. "I don't care what yuh do around +the danged place. Go along and don't bother me, boy; I'm busy." + +"Didn't I tell you how it would be?" Luck reminded Andy and Weary when +they were outside. "That old boy is tickled to death to have us here. He +sure is a type, too. I'll be using him in the picture. And just tale a +look at that corral down there! We'll set up camp this afternoon and +round up some horses,--Applehead always keeps a bunch running back here +on the mesa,--and to-morrow morning we'll get to work. A couple of you +will have to take these teams back this afternoon, too. I'll let you +drive the four-horse in, Weary, and lead the other behind. And I'll send +the Native Son in with Applehead's team and wagon, so you can haul out a +thousand feet of lumber for a stage. Get it surfaced one +side,--fourteen-foot boards, sabe? And about twenty-five pounds of +eight-penny nails. We've got the tools in our outfit. I wonder which +pasture Applehead's team is running in. I'll have one of the boys get +them up, unless--" + +"Luck Lindsay!" came Rosemary's high, clear treble. "Aren't you boys +going to eat any dinner?" + +"We'll eat when we have more time!" Luck shouted back. "Send Applehead +out here, will you?" + +Presently Applehead appeared with a large piece of cake in one hand and a +well-picked chicken wing in the other. "What yuh want?" he inquired +lazily, in the tone that implies extreme physical comfort. + +"I want your big team to haul some lumber out from town. Where are they? +If you don't mind catching them up while I help get this stuff unloaded, +we'll have things moving around here directly." + +"Shore I'll ketch 'em up fur ye, soon as I find Compadre and give him +this here bone. He's been kinda off his feed since that coyote clumb his +frame. He was under the house, but I reckon so many strange voices kinda +got his goat. There ain't ary yowl to be got outa that hole no more. +Come, kitty-kitty-kitty!" + +Luck threw out his hands despairingly, and then laughed. Applehead's +tender solicitude for his cat was a fixed characteristic of the man, and +Luck knew there was no profit in argument upon the subject. He began +unloading the lighter pieces of baggage while the boys fed the livery +teams. The others came straggling down from the house, lighting their +after-dinner cigarettes and glancing curiously at the adobe out-buildings +which were so different from anything in Montana. The sagebrush slopes +wore a comfortable air of familiarity, even though the boys were more +accustomed to bunch grass; but an adobe stable was a novelty. + +Fast as they came near him, Luck put them to work. There was plenty to +do before they could even begin work on the Big Picture, but Luck seemed +to have thought out all the details of camp-setting with the same +attention to trifles which he had shown in the making of a picture. In +half an hour he had every one busy, including old Applehead, who, having +located Compadre in the stable loft and left the chicken wing at the top +of the ladder, had saddled his horse and gone off into a far pasture to +bring in all the horses down there, so that Luck could choose whatever +animals he wished to use. Dave Wiswell, the dried little man, was +helping Rosemary wash the dishes and put away the food supplies they had +brought out with them, as fast as Happy Jack could carry them up from +the wagon. Andy Green was ruthlessly emptying the only closet--a roomy +one, fortunately--in the house, and tacking up black paper which Luck +had brought, so that it might serve as a dark room. Big Medicine and +Pink were clearing out the one-roomed adobe cabin which Applehead called +the "ketch-all," so that the boys could sleep there until the bunk-house +was repaired. + +Luck was unpacking his camera and swearing softly to himself while he set +it up, and wishing that his experience as assistant camera-man was not +quite so far in the past. He foresaw difficulties with that camera until +he got in practice, but he did not say anything about it to the others. +He got it together finally, put in the two-hundred-foot magazine of +negative that he had brought with him to use while waiting for his big +order to arrive, made a few light tests, and went up to the house to see +if Andy had the dark room dark enough. + +He found Andy defending himself as best he could from a small domestic +storm. In his anxiety to have that dark room fixed just the way Luck +wanted it, Andy had purloined a shelf which Rosemary needed, and which +she meant to have, if words could restore it to its place behind the +kitchen stove. Andy had the shelf down and was taking out bent nails with +a new hammer when Luck came to the door with his arms full of packages of +chemicals and a ruby lamp. + +"What can a fellow do?" Andy was inquiring plaintively. "There ain't +another board on the place that's the right width. I looked. Luck's got +to have a shelf; you don't expect him to keep all his junk on the floor, +do you? I'm sorry, but I've just got to have it, girl." + +"You've just got to put that shelf back, Andy. Where do you expect me to +put things? There isn't a pantry on the place, and only that one dinky +little cupboard over there. I can't keep my dishes on the floor, and +cooking is going to be pretty important, itself, around this camp!" + +"Soon as the lumber gets here, I'll have Andy build you a cupboard," Luck +soothed her. "You haven't got many conveniences here, and that's a fact. +But we'll get things straightened out, _pronto_. Got any bones or scraps +left, Mrs. Andy? That little black dog that followed us out is here yet. +He didn't go back with the boys. I found him curled up in the wagon shed +just now; poor little devil looks about starved. His ribs stand out worse +than a cow that's wintered on a sheep range." + +With Rosemary's attention diverted to the little black dog, Andy got the +shelf nailed firmly upon the wall of the dark room. And immediately Luck +proceeded to use it to its fullest capacity and announced that he needed +another one, whereat Andy groaned. + +"Say, I'm a brave man, all right, but I don't dare to swipe any more +shelves," he protested. "Not from my wife, anyway. Timber must sure be +scarce in this man's country. I never did see a place so shy of boards as +this ranch is." + +"Well, let's see if there are any barrels," said Luck. "I've been +studying on how to rig up some way to develop my film. If we can find +some half barrels and knock the heads out, I can wind the negative around +them with the emulsion side out, and dip it in the bigger barrels of +developer; see how I mean? Believe me, this laboratory problem is going +to be a big one till I can see my way to getting tanks and film racks out +here. But I believe barrels will work all right. And, say! There's some +old hose I saw out by the windmill tank; you get that, and see if you +can't run it under the house and up through a hole in the floor. I expect +it leaks in forty places, but maybe you can mend it. And we ought to have +some way to run the water out in a trough or something. You see what you +can do about that, Andy, while I go and unpack the rest of my camera +outfit. There's a garret up over the ceiling, here, and you'll have to +see what shape it's in for drying film. Stop all the cracks so dust can't +blow in. I want to start taking scenes to-morrow morning, you know. I've +got two hundred feet of raw stock to work with till the other gets here. +I've got to develop my tests before to-morrow so I'll know what I'm +doing. I can't afford to spoil any film." + +"Well, hardly," Andy agreed. "By gracious, I hope you're making the rest +of the bunch hump themselves, too. Honest, I'd die if I saw anybody +sitting around in the shade, right now!" + +"Andy, did you go and take that shelf after all?" came the reproachful +voice of Rosemary from the kitchen, and Luck retreated by way of the +front door without telling Andy just how busy the other boys were. + +The "ketch-all," where Big Medicine and Pink were clearing out the +accumulation of years, was enveloped in a cloud of dust. Down in the +corral a dozen horses were circling, with Applehead moving cautiously +about in the middle dragging his loop and making ready for a throw. There +was one snuffy little bay gelding that he meant to turn over to Luck for +a saddle horse, and he wanted to get him caught and in the stable before +showing him to Luck. Happy Jack was wobbling up the path with an +oversized sack of potatoes balanced on his shoulder, and his face a deep +crimson from the heat and his exertions. Down in the stable the little +black dog, enlivened by the plate of bones Rosemary had given him, had +scented the cat in the loft and was barking hysterically up the ladder. + +Luck stepped out briskly, cheered by the atmosphere of bustling +preparation which surrounded him. That he was the moving spirit which +directed all these activities stimulated him like good old wine. It was +for his Big Picture that they were preparing. Already his brain was at +work upon the technique of picture production, formulating a system which +should as far as possible eliminate the risk of failure because of the +handicaps under which he must work. + +Having to be his own camera-man, and to work without an assistant, piled +high the burden of work and responsibility; but he could not afford to +pay the salaries such assistants would demand. He had a practical +knowledge of camera craft, since he had worked his way up through all +branches of the game, and he was sure that with practice he could do the +photographic work. He hoped to teach Andy enough about it so that he +could help; Andy seemed to have an adaptability superior to some of the +others and would learn the rudiments readily, Luck believed. + +The lack of a leading woman was another handicap. He could not afford to +hire one, and he could not very well weave a love story into his plot +without a woman. He was going to try Rosemary, since her part would +consist mostly of riding in and out of scenes and looking pretty,--at +least in the earlier portion. And by the time he was ready to produce the +dramatic scenes, he hoped that she would be able to act the part. It was +a risk, of course, and down deep in his heart he feared that much of her +charm would never reach the screen; but he must manage somehow, since +there would be no money to spend on salaries. He ought to have a +character woman, too,--which he lacked. + +But other things he did have, and they were the things that would count +most for success or failure. He had his real boys, for instance; and he +had his real country; and, last and most important of all, he had his +story to tell. In spite of his weariness, Luck was almost happy that +first afternoon at Applehead's ranch. He went whistling about his task of +directing the others and doing two men's work himself, and he refused to +worry about anything. + +That evening after supper, when they were all smoking and resting before +Applehead's big rock fireplace, Luck's energy would not let him dwell +upon the trivial incidents of their trip, which the Happy Family were +discussing with reminiscent enjoyment. Applehead's booming laugh was to +Luck as a vague accompaniment to his own thoughts darting here and there +among his plans. + +"Aw, gwan!" Happy Jack was exclaiming in his habitual tone of protest. +"Conductor lied to me, is how I come to be over to that place when the +train started to pull out. I was buyin' something. I wasn't talking to no +Mexican girl. I betche--" + +"Now, while we're all together," Luck broke suddenly into Happy's +explanation, "I'm just going over the scenario from start to finish and +assign your parts. Applehead, I'm going to cast you for the sheriff. You +won't need to do any acting at all--" + +"We-ell, if I do, I calc'late I got some idee uh how a shurf had oughta +ack," Applehead informed him with a boastful note in his voice, and +pulled himself up straighter in his chair. "I was 'lected shurf uh this +county four different terms right hand runnin', and if I do say it, they +wasn't nobody ever said I didn't do my duty. Ary man I went after, I come +purty near bringin' him into camp, now I'm tellin' ye! This here old girl +has shore talked out in meetin', in her time, and there wasn't ary man +wanted to face her down in an argument, now I'm tellin' ye." He got up +and took his old six-shooter off the mantel and held it lovingly in his +palm. Very solemnly he licked his thumb and polished a certain place +along the edge of the yellow ivory handle, and held it so the Happy +Family could see three tiny notches. + +"Them's three argyments she shore settled," he stated grimly, and turned +slowly upon Luck. + +"Yes-s, I calc'late I can play shurf for ye, all right enough." + +Luck looked up at him with his eyes shining, remembering how staunch a +friend Applehead had been in times past, and how even his boastings were +but a naïve recognition of facts concerning himself. Applehead Forrman +was fifty-six years old, but Luck could not at that moment recall a man +more dangerous to meet as an enemy or more loyal to have as a friend. + +"I calc'late you can," he agreed in his soft, friendly drawl. "Sit down +and turn your good ear this way, Applehead, so this story can soak in. +You'll see where you come in as sheriff, and you'll sabe just what you'll +have to do. Bud, here, will be the outlaw that blows into the cow-camp +and begins to mix things. He's the one you'll have to settle. So here's +the way the story runs:" + +"Say, boss, make it short and sweet, can't you?" Andy begged. He was +sitting on the floor with his head against Rosemary's knees, and his +eyelids were drooping drowsily. "By gracious, nobody'll have to sing me +to sleep to-night! I'm about ready to hit the hay right now." + +"I'll cut out the atmosphere and just stick to the action, then," Luck +conceded. "I want to get you all placed, so we can get to work in the +morning without any delay. _Sabe_?" + +"Shoot," murmured Pink, opening his eyes with some effort "I can listen +for five minutes, maybe." + +"I can't, I don't believe," the Native Son yawned. "But go ahead, +_amigo_. My heart's with you, anyway, whether my eyes are open or shut." + +Luck was pretty sleepy himself, after two nights and a day spent in a +chair car, with another day of hard labor to finish the ordeal. But his +enthusiasm had never been keener than when, in the land of sage and +cactus, he first unfolded his precious scenario and bent forward to +read by the light of the fire. He forgot to skip the "atmosphere." +Scene by scene he lived the story through. Scene by scene he saw his +Big Picture grow vivid as ever the reality would be. Once or twice he +glanced up and saw Applehead leaning forward with his elbows on his +knees and his pipe gone cold in his fingers, absorbed, living the story +even as Luck lived it. + +A long, rumbling snore stopped him with a mental jolt. He came back to +reality and looked at the Happy Family. Every one of them, save Rosemary, +was sound asleep; and even Rosemary was dreaming at the fire with her +eyes half closed, and her fingers moving caressingly through the +unconscious Andy's brown hair. + +"Let 'em be. You go ahead and read it out," Applehead muttered, impatient +of the pause. + +So Luck, with his audience dwindled to one bald-headed old rangeman, +read the story of what he meant to create out there in the wild spaces +of New Mexico. + + + + +CHAPTER ELEVEN + +JUST A FEW UNFORESEEN OBSTACLES + + +It is surprising how much time is consumed by the little things of +life,--unimportant in themselves, yet absolutely necessary to a +satisfactory accomplishment of the big things. Luck, looking ahead into +the next day, confidently expected to be making scenes by the time the +light was right,--say nine o'clock in the morning. He had chosen several +short, unimportant scenes, such as the departure of old Dave Wiswell, his +cattleman of the picture, from the ranch; his return, and the saddling of +horses and riding away of the boys. Also he meant to make a scene of the +arrival of the sheriff after having received word of the presence of Big +Medicine, the outlaw, at the ranch. Rosemary, too, as the daughter of old +Dave, must run down to the corral to meet her father. Scattered scenes +they were, occurring in widely separated parts of the story. But they had +to be made, and they required no especial "sets" of scenery; and other +work, such as the building of the stage for interior sets, could go on +with few interruptions. The boys would have to work in their make-up, but +since the make-up was to be nothing more than a sharpening of the +features to make them look absolutely natural upon the screen, it would +not be uncomfortable. This was what Luck had planned for that day. + +Before breakfast he had selected a site for his stage, on the sunny +side of the hill back of the house, where it would be partially +sheltered from the sweeping winds of New Mexico. All day he would have +the sun behind him while he worked, and he considered the situation an +ideal one. He had the lumber hauled up there and unloaded, while +Rosemary and Applehead were cooking breakfast for ten hungry people. He +laid out his foundation and explained to the boys just how it should be +built, and even sacrificed his appetite to his impatience by going a +quarter of a mile to where he remembered seeing some old barbed wire +strung along a fence to keep it off the ground so that stock could not +tangle in it. He got the wire and brought it back with him to guy out +the uprights for the diffusers. So on the whole he began the day as +well as even he could desire. + +Then little hindrances began to creep in to delay him. For one thing, the +Happy Family had only a comedy acquaintance with grease paint, and their +make-up reminded Luck unpleasantly of Bently Brown's stories. As they +appeared one by one, with their comically crooked eyebrows and their +rouge-widened lips and staring, deep-shadowed eyes, Luck sent them back +to take it all off and start over again under his supervision. The +outcome was that he gave a full hour to making up the faces of his +characters and telling them how to do it themselves. Even Rosemary made +her brows too heavy and her lips too red, and her cheeks were flushed +unevenly. Luck was a busy man that morning, but he was not taking scenes +by nine o'clock, for all his haste. + +With a kindly regard for Rosemary's nervousness lest she fail him, he set +up his camera and told her to walk down part way to the corral, +looking--supposedly--to see if her dad had come home. She must stand +there irresolutely, then turn and walk back toward the camera, +registering the fact that she was worried. That sounds simple enough, +doesn't it? + +What Luck most wanted was to satisfy himself as to whether Rosemary could +possibly play the part of old Dave's daughter. If she could, he would +sleep sounder that night; if she could not,--Luck was not at all clear as +to what he should do if she failed. He told her just where to walk into +the "scene," which is the range of the camera. He went down part way to +the corral and drew a line with his toe, and told her to stop when she +reached that line and to look away up the trail which wound down among +the rocks and sage. When he called to her she was to turn and walk back, +trying to imagine that she was much worried and disappointed. + +"Your dad was to have come last night," Luck suggested. "You tried to +keep him from going in the first place, and now we've got to establish +the fact that he is away behind time getting home. You know, this is +where his horse falls with him, and he lies out all night, and Big +Medicine brings him in next day. You kind of have a hunch that something +is wrong, and you keep looking for him. Sabe." He fussed with the camera, +adjusting it to what seemed to him the right focus. "Want to rehearse it +first?" he added considerately. + +"No," Rosemary gasped, "I don't. I know how to walk, and how to turn +around and come back. I've been doing those things for twenty-two years +or so, but Luck Lindsay, if you don't let me do it right away quick, I +just know I'll stub my toe and fall down, or something!" The worst of it +was, she meant what she said. Rosemary, I am sorry to say, was so scared +that her teeth chattered. + +"All right, you go on and do it now," Luck permitted, and began to turn +the crank at seventeen in order to hold her action slow, while he watched +her. Groaning inwardly, he continued to turn, while Rosemary went primly +down the winding trail, stood with her toes on the line Luck had marked +for her, gazed stiffly off to the right, and then, when he called to her, +turned and came back, staring fixedly over his head. You have seen little +girls with an agonized self-consciousness walk up an aisle to a platform +where they must bow to their fathers and mothers and their critical +schoolmates and "speak a piece." Rosemary resembled the most bashful +little girl that you can recall. + +"All right," said Luck tonelessly, and placed his palm over the lens +while he gave the crank another turn. "We'll try it again to-morrow. +Don't worry. You'll get the hang of it all right." + +His very smile, meant to encourage her, brought swift tears that rolled +down and streaked the powder and rouge on her cheeks. She had made a mess +of it all; she knew that just as well as Luck knew it. He gave her +shoulder a reassuring pat as she went by, and that finished Rosemary. She +retreated into the gloomy, one-windowed bedroom with its litter of +half-unpacked suitcases and an overflowing trunk, and she cried +heartbrokenly because she knew she would never in this world be able to +forget that terrible, winking eye and the clicking whirr of Luck's +camera. Just to think of facing it gave her a "goose-flesh" chill,--and +she did so want to help Luck! + +With the Happy Family and old Dave, Luck fared better. They, fortunately +for him, were already what he called camera-broke. They could forget all +about the camera while they caught and saddled their horses. They could +mount and ride away unconcernedly without even thinking of trying to act. +Luck's spirits rose a little while he turned the crank, and just for pure +relief at the perfect naturalness of it, he gave that scene an extra ten +feet of footage. + +With Applehead he had some difficulty. Applehead looked the part of +sheriff, all right. He wore his trousers tucked inside his boots because +he always wore them so, especially when he rode. He wore his big +six-shooter buckled snugly about his middle instead of dangling far down +his thigh, because he had always worn it that way. He wore his sheriffs +badge pinned on his vest and his coat unbuttoned, so that the wind blew +it open now and then and revealed the star. Altogether he looked exactly +as he had looked when he was serving one of his four terms of office. But +when he faced the camera, he was inclined to strut, and Luck had no +negative to waste. He resorted to strategy, which consisted of a little +wholesome sarcasm. + +"Listen, Applehead! the public is going to get the idea that you sure +hate yourself!" he remarked, standing with his hands on his hips while +Applehead came strutting into the foreground. "You'll never make any one +believe you were ever a real, honest-to-God sheriff. They'll put you down +as an extra picked up through a free employment agency and feeling like +you owned the plant because you're earning a couple of dollars. Go back +down there to your horse and wait till some of that importance +evaporates!" + +Applehead went off swearing to himself, and Luck got a fifteen-foot +scene of the departure of a very indignant sheriff who is with +difficulty holding his anger subordinate to his official dignity. Before +he had time to recover his usual good humor, Luck with further +disparaging comment called him back. Applehead, smarting under the +sarcasm, came ready for war, and Luck turned the crank until the sheriff +was almost within reach of him. + +"Gol darn you, Luck, I'll take that there camery and bust it over your +danged head!" he spluttered. "I'll show ye! Call me a bum that's wearin' +a shurf's star fer the first time in his life, will ye! Why, I'll jest +about wear ye out if--" + +"All right, pard; I was just aiming to make you come up looking mad. You +did fine." Luck stopped to roll a smoke as though nothing had occurred +but tiresome routine. + +Applehead looked down at him uncertainly. He looked at the Happy Family, +saw them grinning, and gave a mollified chuckle. "We-ell, you was takin' +a danged long chance, now I'm tellin' yuh, boy!" he warned. "I was all +set to tangle with yuh; and if I had, I reckon I'd a spiled something +'fore I got through." + +It was noon by the sun, and a film of haze was spreading across the sky. +Luck shot another scene or two and shouldered his precious camera +reluctantly, when Rosemary, red-lidded but elaborately cheerful in her +manner, called them in to dinner. + +"She's goin' to storm, shore's you live," Applehead predicted, sniffing +into the wind like a dog confronted by a strange scent. A little later +he looked up from his full plate with a worried air. "How's a storm +goin' to hit ye, Luck?" he asked. "Kinda put a stop to the pitcher +business, won't it?" + +"Not if it snows, it won't," Luck answered calmly, helping himself to the +brown beans boiled with bacon. "We'll round up a bunch of cattle, and +I'll shoot my blizzard stuff. I'll need more negative, though, for that. +If I knew for sure it's going to storm--" + +"I'm tellin' yuh it is, ain't I?" Applehead blew into his saucer of +coffee,--his table manners not being the nicest in the world. "I kin +smell snow two days off, and that there wind comin' up the canyon has got +snow behind it, now I'm tellin' ye. 'Nother thing, I kin tell by the way +Compadre walks, liftin' his feet high and bushin' up what's left of his +tail. That there cat's smarter'n some humans, and he shore kin smell snow +comin', same's I do. He hates snow worse'n pizen." Applehead drank his +coffee in great gulps. "I'll bet he's huntin' a warm corner somewheres, +right now." + +"No, he ain't, by cripes!" Big Medicine corrected him. "That there +Come-Paddy cat of yourn has got worse troubles than snow! Dog's got him +treed up the windmill. I seen--" + +Applehead did not wait to hear what Big Medicine had seen. He drank the +remainder of his coffee in one great, scalding gulp, and went out to +rescue his cat and to put the fear of death into the little black dog. +When he returned, puffing a little, to his interrupted meal and had told +them a few of the things he meant to do to that dog if it refused to +mend its ways, he declared again that he could "shore smell snow behind +that wind." + +"I wish it would hold off till that raw stock gets here," Luck observed +anxiously. "I wired the order in, but at that I'm afraid it won't get +here before the end of the week. I'll have one of you boys pack me some +water into the dark room so I can develop negatives right after dinner. I +want to see how she's coming out before I take any more." + +"I thought Andy'd fixed a hose fer that dark room," Happy Jack said +forebodingly. If there was water to be carried, Happy was pessimistically +certain that he would have to carry it. + +"I turned that hose over to the missus for a colander," Andy explained +soberly. "By gracious, I couldn't figure out anything else it could be +used for." + +"Did you get the barrels fixed like I said?" + +"I sure did. Applehead must have had a Dutch picnic or two out here, +from the number of beer kegs scattered all over the place. And a couple +of big whisky--" + +"Them there whisky bar'ls I bought and used fer water bar'ls till I got +my well bored. Luck kin mind the time when we hauled water on a sled outa +the arroyo down below." Applehead's eyes turned anxiously to Rosemary, +toward whom he was beginning to show a timidly worshipful attitude. + +"You bet I can. Do you remember the time we hitched that big bronk up +with old Wall-eye, to haul water? Got back here a little ways beyond the +stable with two barrels sloshing over the top, and the cat--not this one, +but a black-and-white cat, that was--the cat jumped out from behind a +buck brush. _Hot dog!_ That bronk went straight in the air! Remember that +time?" Luck leaned back in his chair to laugh. + +"I shore do," Applehead chuckled. "Luck, here, he was walkin' behind the +sled and drivin',--and he wasn't as big as he is now, even. That was soon +after he come out here to fatten up like. Little bit of a peaked--why, I +bet he didn't weigh over a hundred pounds after a full meal! He was +ridin' the lines an' steadyin' the bar'ls, busy as a dog at a badger +hole, when the cat jumped out, an' that there bronk r'ared back and swung +off short and hit fur the mesa; and Luck here a-hangin' and hollerin', +an' me a-leggin' it to ketch up, and bar'ls teeterin' and--Mind how you +was bound you'd kill that cat uh mine?" he asked Luck, tears of laughter +dimming his eyes. "That was ole Leather Lungs. He tuk sick an' died, year +after that. Luck shore was mad enough to eat that thar cat, now I'm +tellin' yuh!" + +The Happy Family laughed together over the picture Applehead had crudely +painted for them. But Luck, although he had started the story, already +was slipping away from the present and was trying to peer into the +future. He did not even hear what Applehead was saying to keep the boys +in a roar of mirth. He was mentally reckoning the number of days since he +had wired his order for a C.O.D. shipment of negative to be rushed to +Albuquerque. Two days in Los Angeles, getting ready for the venture; two +days on the way to Applehead's ranch, one day here,--five days +altogether. He had told them to rush the order. If they did, there was a +chance that it might have arrived. He decided suddenly to make the trip +and see; but first he would develop the exposed negative of the +forenoon's work. He got up with that businesslike air which the Happy +Family had already begun to recognize as a signal for quick action, and +took off his coat. + +"Happy, I wish you and Bud would carry me some water," he said. "I'll +show you where to put it; I'm going to need a lot. Will you help me wind +the film on my patent rack, Andy? And I'll want that little team hitched +to the buckboard so I can go to town after I'm through. I've got some +hopes of my negative being there." + +"Want the rest of us to work on that stage, don't you, boss?" Weary +asked, pausing in the doorway to roll a smoke. "And please may I wipe off +my eyebrows?" + +"Why, sure!--to both questions," answered Luck, going over to his camera. +"I can't do much more till I get more negative, even with the light +right, which it isn't. You go ahead and finish the stage this afternoon. +And be sure the uprights are guyed for a high wind; she sure can blow, in +this man's country." + +"You're danged right, she can blow!" Applehead testified emphatically. +"She can blow, and she's goin' to blow. You want to take your overshoes +and mittens, boy, when you start out fer town. You know how cold she can +get on that mesa. Chances are you'll come back facin' a blizzard. And, +say! I wisht you'd take that there dog back with yuh, Luck, 'cause if yuh +don't, him and me's shore goin' to tangle, now I'm tellin' yuh! Mighty +funny note when a cat dassent walk acrost his own dooryard in broad +daylight, no more! Poor ole Compadre was shakin' like a leaf when I clumb +up and got him down of'n the windmill. Way the wind was whistlin' up +there, the chances are he's done ketched cold in 'is tail, and if he has, +yuh better see to it that thar dog ain't within gunshot uh me, now I'm +tellin' yuh!" + +Luck did not hear half the tirade. He had gone into the dark room and was +dissolving hypo for the fixing bath, while the boys tramped in with full +water buckets and began to fill the barrels he had placed in a row along +the wall. He was impatient to see how his work of the forenoon would come +out of the developer, and he was quite as impatient to be on his way to +town. Whether he admitted it or not, he had a good deal of faith in +Applehead's weather forecasts; he remembered how often the old fellow had +predicted storms in the past when Luck spent a long winter with him here +in this same adobe dwelling. If it did snow, he must have plenty of +negative for his winter scenes; for snow never laid long on the level +here, and he had a full reel of winter stuff to make. + +He called Andy to come and help him wind his exposed film on the crude, +improvised film racks that had lately been beer kegs, and closed the dark +room door upon the last empty bucket that had been carried in full. In +the dull light of the ruby lamp he carefully wound his long strip of +exposed negative, emulsion side out, around the keg which Andy held for +him. His developer bath was ready, and he immersed the film-jacketed keg +slowly, with due regard for bubbles of air. + +"You may not know it, but right here in this dark room is where I look +for the real test of success or failure," he confided to Andy, while he +rocked the keg gently in the barrel. "I wish I could afford a good +camera-man; but then, the most of them wouldn't work with this kind of an +outfit; they'd demand all the laboratory conveniences, and that would run +into money. Ever notice that when you can't get anything but the crudest +kind of tools to work with, you generally have to use them yourself? But +it will take more than--oh, _hell_!" + +"What's wrong?" Andy Green bent his brown head anxiously down beside +Luck's fast graying mop of hair, and peered at the images coming out of +the yellowish veil that had hidden them. "Ain't they good?" + +Luck reached into the water tank and splashed a little water on his film +to check it while he looked. "Now, what in the name of--" He scowled +perplexedly down at the streaked strips. "What do you suppose streaked it +like that?" He lifted worried, gray eyes to Andy's apprehensive frown, +and looked again disgustedly at the negative before he dropped it back +with a splash into the developer. + +"No good; she's ruined," he said in the flat tone of a great +disappointment. "Eighty feet of film gone to granny. Well, that's +luck for you!" + +Andy reached gingerly into the barrel and brought up the keg so that +he could take another look. He had owned a kodak for years and had +done enough amateur developing to know that something had gone very +wrong here. + +"What ails the darned thing?" he asked fretfully, turning to Luck, who +was scowling abstractedly into his barrels of "soup." + +"You can search me," Luck replied dully. "Looks like I'd been stung with +a bunch of bum chemicals. Either that, or something's wrong with our +tanks here." He reached down and pulled up the keg by its hooped top, +glimpsed a stain on his finger and thumb and let the keg slip hastily +over into the pure water so that he could examine the stains. + +"Iron! Iron, sure as thunder!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Those iron hoops +are what did it." He rubbed his hand vexedly. "I knew better than that, +too. I don't see why I didn't think about those hoops. Of all the +idiotic, fool--" + +"What kinda brain do you think you've got in your head, anyway?" Andy +broke in spiritedly. "Way you've been working it lately, engineering +every blamed detail yourself, you oughtn't to wonder if one little thing +gets by you." + +"Well, it's done now," Luck dismissed the accident stoically. "Lucky I +started in on those costume and make-up tests of all you fellows, and +that scene of your wife's. And if I'd used the other half barrel instead +of this five-gallon keg for a start-off, I'd have spoiled the whole +bunch. I'll have to throw out all that developer. Blast the luck! Well, +let's get busy." He pulled out the keg and held it up for another +disgusted look. "I won't bother fixing that at all. Call Happy and Bud +back, will you, and have them roll this barrel of developer out and ditch +it? And then take those two half barrels you were going to fix, and wrap +them with clothesline,--that cotton line on one of the trunks,--and knock +off all the hoops. I'm going to beat it to 'Querque and see if that +stuff's there. We'll try developing the rest this evening, after I get +back. Darn such luck!" + +The five thousand feet of negative had not arrived, but there was a +letter from the company saying that they had shipped it. Luck, bone-tired +and cold from his fifteen-mile drive across the unsheltered mesa, turned +away from the express office, debating whether to wait for the film or go +back to the ranch. It would be a pretty cold drive back, in the edge of +the evening and facing that raw wind; he decided that he would save time +by waiting here in town, since he could not go on with his picture +without more negative. He turned back impulsively, put his head in at the +door of the express office, and called to the clerk: + +"When do you get your next express from the East, brother? I'll wait for +that negative if you think it's likely to come by to-morrow noon or +there-abouts." + +"Might come in on the eight o'clock train to-night, or to-morrow morning. +You say it was shipped the sixteenth? Ought to be here by morning, sure." + +"I'll take a chance," Luck said half to himself, and closed the door. + +A round-shouldered, shivering youth, who had been leaning apathetically +against the side of the building, moved hesitatingly up to him. "Say, +do I get it right that you're in the movies?" he inquired anxiously. +"Heard you mention looking for negative. Haven't got a job for a +fellow, have you?" + +Luck wheeled and looked him over, from his frowsy, soft green beaver hat +with the bow at the back, to his tan pumps that a prosperous young man +would have thrown back in the closet six weeks before, as being out of +season. The young man grinned his understanding of the appraisement, and +Luck saw that his teeth were well-kept, and that his nails were clean and +trimmed carefully. He made a quick mental guess and hit very close to the +fellow's proper station in life and his present predicament. + +"What end of the business do you know?" he asked, turning his face toward +the warmth of the hotel. + +"Operator. Worked two years at the Bijou in Cleveland. I'm down on my +luck now; thought I'd try the California studios, because I wanted to +learn the camera, and I figured on getting a look at the Fair. I stalled +around out there till my money gave out, and then I started back to God's +country." He shrugged his shoulders cynically. "This is about as far as +I'm likely to get, unless I can learn to do without eating and a few +other little luxuries," he summed up the situation grimly. + +"Well, it won't hurt you to skip a lesson and have dinner with me," Luck +suggested in the offhand way that robbed the invitation of the sting of +charity. "I always did hate to eat alone." + +The upshot of the meeting was that, when Luck gathered up the lines, next +day, and popped the short lash of Applehead's home-made whip over the +backs of the little bay team, and told them to "Get outa town!" in a tone +that had in it a boyish note of exultation, the thin youth hung to the +seat of the bouncing buckboard and wondered if Luck really could drive, +or if he was half "stewed" and only imagined he could. The thin youth had +much to learn besides the science of photography and some of it he +learned during that fifteen-mile drive. For one thing, he learned that +really Luck could drive. Luck proved that by covering the fifteen miles +in considerably less than an hour and a half without losing any of his +precious load of boxed negative and coiled garden hose and assistant +camera-man,--since that was what he intended to make of the thin youth. + + + + +CHAPTER TWELVE + +"I THINK YOU NEED INDIAN GIRL FOR PICTURE" + + +Still it did not snow, though the wind blew from the storm quarter, and +Applehead sniffed it and made predictions, and Compadre went with his +remnant of tail ruffed like a feather boa. Immediately after supper Luck +attached his new hose to the tank faucet and developed the corral scenes +which he had taken, with the thin youth taking his first lesson in the +dark room. The thin youth, who said his name was Bill Holmes, did not +have very much to say, but he seemed very quick to grasp all that Luck +told him. That kept Luck whistling softly between sentences, while they +wound the negative around the roped half barrel that had not so much as a +six penny nail in it this time, so thoroughly did Andy do his work. + +The whistling ceased abruptly when Luck examined his film by the light of +the ruby lamp, however, for every scene was over-exposed and worthless. +Luck realized when he looked at it that the light was much stronger than +any he had ever before photographed by, and that he would have to "stop +down" hereafter; the problem was, how much. His light tests, he +remembered, had been made rather late in the afternoon, when the light +was getting yellow, and he had blundered in forgetting that the forenoon +light was not the same. + +He went ahead and put the film through the fixing bath and afterwards +washed it carefully, more for the practice and to show Bill Holmes how to +handle the negative than for any value the film would have. He discovered +that Andy had not unpacked the rewinding outfit, but since he would not +need it until his negative was dry, he made no comment on the subject. +Bill Holmes kept at his heels, helping when he knew what to do, asking a +question now and then, but silent for the most part. Luck felt extremely +optimistic about Bill Holmes, but for all that he was depressed by his +second failure to produce good film. A camera-man, he felt in his heart, +might be the determining factor for success; but he was too stubborn to +admit it openly or even to consider sending for one, even if he could +have managed to pay the seventy-five dollars a week salary for the time +it would take to produce the Big Picture. He could easier afford to waste +a few hundred feet of negative now, he argued to himself. + +"Come on down, and I'll show you what I can about the camera," he said to +Bill Holmes. "The light's too tricky to-day to work by, but I'll give you +a few pointers that you'll have to keep in mind when I'm too busy to +think about telling you. Once I get to directing a scene, I'm liable to +be busy as a one-armed prospector fighting a she-bear with cubs. I'm +counting on you to remember what all I'va told you, in case I forget to +tell you again. You see, I've ruined a hundred and fifty feet of negative +already, just by overlooking a couple of bets. You're here to help keep +that from happening again. _Sabe_?" + +"Well, there's one or two things I don't have to learn," Bill Holmes told +him by way of encouragement. "You get the camera set and ready, and I can +turn it any speed you want. I'll guarantee that much. I learned that all +right in projection." + +"That's exactly why I brought you out here, brother," Luck assured him. +"That's why--" + +"Oh, Luck Lindsay!" came Rosemary's voice excitedly. "Mr. Forrman wants +you right away quick! Somebody's coming that he doesn't know, and he says +it's up to you!" + +"What's up to me?" Luck came hurrying down the ladder backwards. "Has +Applehead gone as crazy as his cat? I've nothing to do with strangers +coming to the ranch." + +"Yes," said Rosemary, twinkling her brown eyes at him, "but this is a +woman. Mr. Forrman refuses to take any responsibility--" + +"So do I. I don't know of any woman that's liable to come trailing me up. +Where is she?" + +From the doorway Rosemary pointed dramatically, and Luck went up and +stood beside her, rolling down his sleeves while he stared at the trail. +Down the slope, head bent to the whooping wind, a woman came walking with +a free, purposeful stride that spoke eloquently of accustomedness to the +open land. Her skirts flapped but could not impede her movements. She +seemed to be carrying some bright-hued burden upon her shoulders, and she +was, without doubt, coming straight down to the ranch as to a +much-desired goal. + +"You can search me," he said emphatically in answer to Applehead's +question. "Must be some _señora_ away off the trail. I never saw her +before in my life." + +"We-ell, now, that there lady don't act like she's lost," Applehead +declared, watching her intently as she came on. "Aims to git whar she's +goin', if I'm any jedge of actions. An' she shore is hittin' fur here. +Ain't been ary woman on this ranch in ten year, till Mrs. Green come +t'other day." + +"She's none of my funeral; I don't know her from Adam," Luck disclaimed, +and went back into the dark room as though be had urgent business there, +which he had not. In the back of his mind was an uneasy feeling that the +newcomer was "some of his funeral," and yet he could not tell how or why +she should be. In her walk there was a teasing sense of familiarity; he +did not know who she was, but he felt uncomfortably that he ought to +know. He fumbled among the litter on the shelf, putting things in order; +and all the while his ears were sharpened to the sounds that came muffled +through the closed door. + +"Oh, Luck Lindsay!" came Rosemary's voice at last, with what Luck fancied +was a malicious note in it. "You're wanted out here!" + +Luck fumbled for a minute longer while he racked his brain for some clue +to this woman's identity. For a man who has lived the varied life Luck +had lived, his conscience was remarkably clean; but no one enjoys having +mystery stalk unawares up to one's door. However, he opened the door and +went out, feeling sensitively the curious expectancy of the Happy Family, +and faced the woman who stood just beyond the doorway. One look, and he +stopped dead still in the middle of the room. "Well, I'll be darned!" he +said in a hushed tone of blank amazement. + +The woman's black eyes lighted as though flames had darted up behind +them. "How, _Cola_?" she greeted him in the soft, cooing tones of the +younger Indians whose voices have not yet grown shrill and harsh. +"Wagalexa Conka!" It was the tribal name given him in great honor by his +Indians of Pine Ridge Agency. + +Through his astonishment, Luck's face glowed at the words. He went up and +put out his hand, impelled by the hospitality which is an unwritten law +of the old West, and is not to be broken save for good cause. + +"How! How!" he answered her greeting. "You long ways from home, +Annie-Many-Ponies!" + +Annie-Many-Ponies smiled in a way to make Happy Jack gulp with a sudden +emotion he would have denied. She flashed a quick glance around at the +curious faces that regarded her so intently, and she eased her +shawl-wrapped burden to the ground with the air of one who has reached +her journey's end. + +"Yes, I plenty long ways," she assented placidly. "I don't stay by +reservation no more. Too lonesome. One night I beat it. I work for you +now." + +"How you know you work for me?" Luck felt nine pairs of eyes trying to +read his face. "That's bad, you run away. You better go back, +Annie-Many-Ponies. Your father--" + +"Nah!" Annie-Many-Ponies cried in swift rebellion. "I work for you all +time, I no want monies. I got plenty wardrobe; you give me plenty grub; I +work for you. I think you need him Indian girl in picture. I think you +plenty sorry all Indians go by reservation. You no like for Indians go +home," she stated with soft sympathy. "I sabe you not got monies for pay +all thems Indians. I come be Indian girl for you; I not want monies. You +let me stay--Wagalexa Conka!" + +"You come in and eat, Annie-Many-Ponies," Luck commanded with more +gentleness than he was accustomed to show. The girl must have followed +him all the way from Los Angeles, and she must have walked all the way +out from Albuquerque. All this she seemed to take for granted, a mere +detail of no importance beside her certainty that although he had no +money to pay the Indians, he must surely need an Indian girl in his +pictures. Loyalty always touched Luck deeply. He had brought the little +black dog back with him and hidden it in the stable, just because the dog +had followed him all around town and had seemed so pleased when Luck was +loading the buckboards for the return trip. He could not logically +repulse the manifest friendliness of Annie-Many-Ponies. + +He introduced her formally to Rosemary, and was pleased when Rosemary +smiled and shook hands without the slightest hesitation. The Happy Family +he lumped together in one sentence. "All these my company," he told her. +"You eat now. By and by I think you better go home." + +Annie-Many-Ponies looked at him with smoldering eyes, standing in the +middle of the kitchen, refusing to sit down to the table until the main +question was settled. + +"Why you say that?" she demanded, drawing her brows down sullenly. "You +got plenty more Indian girls?" + +Luck shook his head. + +"You think me not good-looking any more?" With her two slim brown hands +she pushed back the shawl from her hair and challenged criticism of her +beauty. She was beautiful,--there was no gain saying that; she was so +beautiful that the sight of her, standing there like an indignant young +Minnehaha, tingled the blood of more than one of the Happy Family. "You +think I so homely I spoil your picture?" + +"I think you must not run away from the reservation," Luck parried, +refusing to be cajoled by her anger or her beauty. "You always were a +good girl, Annie-Many-Ponies. Long time ago, when you were little girl +with the Buffalo Bill show, you were good. You mind what Wagalexa +Conka say?" + +Annie-Many-Ponies bent her head. "I mind you now, Wagalexa Conka," she +told him quickly. "You tell me ride down that big hill," she threw one +hand out toward the bluff that sheltered the house. "I sure ride down +like hell. I care not for break my neck, when you want big 'punch' in +picture. You tell me be homely old squaw like Mrs. Ghost-Dog, I be homely +so dogs yell to look on me. I mind you plenty--but I do not go by +reservation no more." + +"Yow father be mad--I let you stay, he maybe shoot me," Luck argued, +secretly flattered by her persistence. + +Annie-Many-Ponies smiled,--a slow, sphinx-like smile, mysteriously sweet +and lingering. "Nah! Not shoot you. I write one letters, say I go work +for you. Now you write one letter by Agent, say you let me stay, say I +work for you, say I good girl, say I be Indian girl for your picture. I +mind you plenty, Wagalexa Conka!" She smiled again coaxingly, like a +child. "I like you," she stated simply. "You good man. You need Indian +girl, I think. I work for you. My father not be mad; my father know you +good man for Indians." + +Luck turned from her and gave the Happy Family a pathetic, +what's-a-fellow-going-to-do look that made Andy Green snort unexpectedly +and go outside. One by one the others followed him, grinning shamelessly +at Luck's helplessness. In a moment he overtook them, wanting the support +of their judgment. + +"The worst of it is," he confessed, after he had explained how he had +known the girl since she was a barefooted papoose with the "Bill" show, +and he was Indian Agent there; "the worst of it is, she's a humdinger in +pictures. She gets over big in foreground stuff. Rides like a whirlwind, +and as for dramatic work, she can put it over half the leading women in +the business--that is, in her line of Pocohontas stuff." + +"Well, why don't you let her stay?" Weary demanded. "She will +anyway--mama! We're not what you can call over-run with women on +this job." + +"Why don't you make a squaw-man outa Dave?" Pink suggested boldly, "and +let her be his daughter instead of Rosemary?" + +"Say, what does that there walka-some-darn-thing mean, that she +calls yuh?" Big Medicine wanted to know. "By cripes, I hate talk I +don't savey." + +"Wagalexa Conka?" Luck smiled shamefacedly. "Oh, that's just a name the +Indians gave me. Means Big Turkey, in plain English. Her father, old +Chief Big Turkey, adopted me into the tribe, and they call me by his +name. Annie-Many-Ponies has heard it used ever since she was a kid. By +tribal law I'm her brother. Well, what's the word, boys? Shall we let +her stay or not? We could use her, all right, and put a dash of +old-plains' color in the picture that I haven't got, as it stands. It's +up to you to decide." + +"You're wrong," Pink grinned. "She's decided that, herself. Gee, +she's pretty!" + +"Certainly she is; but get this, boys: She isn't going to stay just +because she's pretty, and if I had a different bunch than you fellows, +she'd have to go for that reason. I'm responsible for her--_sabe?_ Bill +Holmes, you get this; I saw you eyeing her pretty strong. That girl is +the daughter of an influential chief, and she comes pretty near being the +pride of the reservation. There can't be any romantic stuff, if they let +her stay. Her father and the Agent will consent, if they do consent, on +the strength of the confidence they have in me. They're going to keep +that confidence. Get that, and get it strong, because I sure mean what +I'm telling you." He eased the tenseness with a laugh. "I don't mean to +offend anybody," he said, "and that's why I'm putting it straight before +the play comes up. Annie-Many-Ponies has got a heart-twisting smile, but +she's a squaw just the same. She's got the ways of the Injun to the +marrow of her bones, and I'll bet right now if you were to shake her hard +enough, you'd jingle a knife out of her clothes." He stopped and lighted +the cigarette he had been carefully rolling. "Well," he finished after +the pause, "does she stay or go?" + +The Happy Family answered him with, various phrases, the meaning of which +was that he could suit himself about that; as far as they were concerned, +she could stay and welcome. + +So she stayed, and Rosemary hung up a calico curtain across the one +bedroom, so that Annie-Many-Ponies might have a corner to call her own. +She stayed; and Luck rewrote two reels of his scenario so that there +should be a place in it for a beautiful Indian girl who rode like a +whirlwind and did not know the meaning of fear, and who had a mind of her +own, and who was just exactly as harmless in that camp as half a quart of +nitroglycerine, and added thereby a good bit to the load of +responsibility which Luck was shouldering. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTEEN + +"PAM. BLEAK MESA--CATTLE DRIFTING BEFORE WIND--" + + +"Pam. bleak mesa--snow--cattle drifting before wind. Dale and Johnny dis. +riding to foreground. Reg. cold--horses leg-weary--boys all in--" + +Out toward Bear Canyon, where the land to the north rose brokenly to the +mountains, Luck found the bleak stretches of which he had dreamed that +night on the observation platform of a train speeding through the night +in North Dakota,--a great white wilderness unsheltered by friendly +forests, uninhabited save by wild things that moved stealthily across its +windswept ridges. Beyond, the mountains rose barrenly, more bleak than +the land that lay at their feet. + +"Pam. bleak mesa--snow--" With the camera set halfway up a gentle slope +commanding a steeper hill beyond, down which the boys would send the +cattle in a slow, uneasy march before the storm, Luck focused his +telephoto lens upon bleakness enough to satisfy even his voracious +appetite for realism. Bill Holmes, his tan pumps wrapped in gunny sacks +for protection against the snow that was a foot deep on the level and +still falling, thrashed his body with his arms, like a windmill whose +paddles have suddenly gone limp in a high wind. When he was ready, Luck +stopped long enough to blow on his fingers and to turn and watch for the +signal from Annie-Many-Ponies, stationed on a higher ridge to the right +of him,--the signal that the cattle were coming. + +Through the drive of the snowstorm he saw her tall, straight figure as +through a thin, shifting, white veil. The little black dog, for whom she +had conceived a fierce affection in defiance of Rosemary's tacit +opposition, was lying with its tail curled tight around its feet and its +nose, hunting warmth in the shelter of her flapping garments. +Annie-Many-Ponies was staring away to the north, shielding her keen eyes +from the snow with one slim, brown hand, while she watched for the coming +of the herd. + +Luck looked at her, silhouetted against the sky. He had no scene written +in his script to match the picture she made; he had no negative to waste. +But he swung his camera around and, using the telephoto lens he had +adjusted for his cattle scenes, he called to her to hold that pose, and +indulged his artistic sense in a ten-or-twelve foot scene which showed +Annie-Many-Ponies wholly absorbed in gazing upon farther bleakness. + +Annie-Many-Ponies was so keenly conscious of her duty to the camera that +she dared not break her pose, even to give the signal, until he had +yelled, "All right, Annie!" and swung the camera back with its recording +eye fixed upon that narrow depression between two blunt ears of hilltop, +through which the herd was to be sent down to the ridge and on past the +camera to the flat, where other scenes were to be taken later on, when +the cattle were hungry enough to browse miserably upon the bosquet of +young cotton woods. + +"Cows come!" she called out, because Luck had his back to her at the +moment and did not see the wave of hand she had been told to give him. + +Luck, squinting into the view-finder, caught the swaying vanguard of the +herd and swore. He had meant to "pan. bleak mesa" for half a minute +before those swaying heads and horns appeared over the brow of the +ridge. Now, even though he began to turn the crank the instant he +glimpsed them, he would not have quite the effect which he had meant to +have. He would be compelled to make two scenes of it, and pan. his bleak +mesa afterwards and trust to a "cut-in scene" to cover the break. He did +not trust Bill Holmes to turn the crank on that slow, plodding march of +misery. With his diaphragm of the camera wide open to get all the light +possible, because the air was filled with falling snow, he followed the +herd, as it wound snakelike down the easiest descents, making for the +more sheltered small canyons that opened out upon the flat. "Cattle +drifting before the wind," read the script; and now Luck saw them +coming, their snow-whitened backs humped to the driving storm, heads +lowered and swaying weakly from side to side with the shambling motion +of their feet. They were drifting before the wind, just as he had +planned that they should do. That they shuffled wearily down that hill +with poor cows and unweaned calves straggling miserably behind the main +body in "the drag herd," proved how well the boys had done the work +which he had sent them out at daylight to do. + +The boys had gone out, under the leadership of Applehead, who knew that +range as he knew his own dooryard, just when daylight began to break +coldly upon the storm that had come with the sunset. Luck had already +ridden out with them and had chosen his location for the blizzard scenes. + +He had gone with them over every foot of that drive, and had told them +just where the main body of riders was to fall back behind the ridge that +would hide them from the camera, leaving Andy Green and the Native +Son--since these were the two whom he always visualized in the scene--to +come on alone in the wake of the herd. Under the leadership of old +Applehead, they had combed every draw that sheltered so much as a lone +cow and calf. + +Luck had told them to bring in every hoof they could spot and get +over that ridge by ten o'clock. He had a nervous dread of the storm +breaking before noon, and his heart was set on getting that +never-to-be-successfully-faked blizzard scene. Realism ruled him +absolutely, now that he was actually producing some of the big scenes of +this picture. He had told them just where to watch for Annie-Many-Ponies +and the flag she would wave,--a black flag, so that the boys could not +fail to see it in the vague whiteness of the storm. He had located the +jutting ledge behind which Happy Jack was to sneak, that he might watch +for the signal as an extra precaution against an unseasonable appearance +of the two riders over the ridge. + +When the herd straggled down in what seemed an endless stream of +storm-driven animals, Luck knew that the boys had done their work well. +He knew cattle as he knew pictures; he knew that a full two thousand came +over that ridge through a shallow pass he had chosen, "'Every hoof' is +right," he remarked to Bill Holmes with a dry approval. "I'd hate to go +hunting meat where that bunch was gathered from. Looks like they'd combed +the country for fifty miles around." He sent a quick glance to the +pinnacle where Annie-Many-Ponies stood waiting to give the signal. He +wished that she had realized the importance of these cattle scenes keenly +enough to have given him the signal at the cost of breaking her pose. But +he had only himself to blame. He should not have taken the risk, even +though he had believed that the cattle would not arrive for another half +hour. He should have been ready; he had told the boys to send them right +over the ridge when they came up to it, because he wanted to preserve +unbroken that indescribable atmosphere of a long, weary journey. + +Still they came; a good twenty-five hundred, he was ready to wager, when +the last few stragglers, so weak that they wobbled when they hesitated +before descending a particularly steep place, came down the slope. It +surely did eat up film to take the full magnitude of that march, but Luck +turned and turned and gloated in the bigness of it all. + +"All right, Annie," he called out when he had taken the last of the herd +as they filed out of sight into the narrow gully that would lead them to +the flat half a mile below, where he meant to get other scenes. "Wave +flag now for boys to come!" + +Annie-Many-Ponies lifted high the black flag and waved it in slow, +sweeping half circles above her head. "Boys, come," she called, a +moment after. + +Luck, still not trusting the camera to Bill Holmes, swung back slowly +to the pass and made a panorama of the desolate hillside and the +chill, forbidding mountains behind. At the pass he stopped. "How +close?" he shouted to Annie. "Come now," she called down to him, and +Luck began to turn the crank again, watching like a hawk for the first +bobbing black specks which would show that the boys were nearing the +crest of the ridge. + +They came, on the very instant that he would have chosen for their +coming. Side by side they rode, drooping of shoulders, and yet with their +bodies braced backward for the descent which at the top was rather steep. +"Register cold--horses leg-weary--boys all in--" read the script which +Luck knew by heart. It was cold enough, and the camera must have +registered it in the way the snow was heaped upon their hatbrims, drifted +upon their shoulders, packed in the wrinkles of their clothing and in the +manes and tails of the horses. And the horses certainly were leg-weary; +so weary that Luck knew how the boys must have ridden to gather the +cattle and to put their mounts in that condition of realistic exhaustion. +In the story they were supposed to have ridden nearly all night,--the +night-guard who had been on duty when the storm struck and the cattle +began to drift, and who had stuck to their posts even though they could +not turn the herd. + +That might be stretching the probabilities just a shade, but Luck felt +that the effects he wanted to get justified the slight license he had +used in his plot. The effects were there, in generous measure. He +turned the crank on the whole of their descent and got them riding up +into the foreground pinched with cold, miserable as men may be. They +did not look at him--they dared not until he had given the word that +the scene was ended. + +"Ride on past, down into that gully where the cattle went," he directed +them sharply. "I'll holler when you're outa sight. You can turn around +and come back then; the scene ends where your hat-crowns bob outa sight. +And listen! You're liable to lose your cattle if you don't spur up a +little, so try and get a little speed into them cayuses of yours!" + +Obediently Andy's quirt rose and descended on the flank of his horse. It +started, broke into a shuffling trot, and slowed again to a walk. There +was no speed to be gotten out of those cayuses,--which was what Luck +meant to show on the screen; for this, you must know, was the painting of +one grim phase of the range-man's life. The Native Son spurred his horse +and got a lunge or two that settled presently to the same plodding walk. +Luck pammed them out of sight, bethought him of the rest of the boys, and +commanded Annie-Many-Ponies to call them in. + +They came, half frozen, half starved, and so tired they did not know +which discomfort irked them most. They found Luck; his nose purple with +cold marking the footage on his working script with numbed fingers. He +barely glanced at them, and turned away to tell Bill Holmes to take the +camera on down the draw to where that huddle of rocks stood up on the +hillside. Andy and Miguel came back and met the others halfway. + +"Say, boss, when do we eat?" Big Medicine inquired anxiously. "By cripes, +I'm holler plumb down to my toes,--and them's froze stiff." + +"Eat? We eat when we get these storm scenes taken," Luck told him +heartlessly. "I'm afraid it'll clear up." + +"Afraid it'll clear up!" Pink burrowed his chin deeper into his +breath-frosted collar and shivered. + +"Oh, quit kicking," the Native Son advised ironically. "We're only living +some of Luck's big minutes he used to tell about." + +Luck looked around at them and grinned a little. "Part of the business, +boys," he said. "Think of the picture stuff there is in this storm!" + +"Why, sure!" Weary responded with exaggerated cheerfulness. "I've been +freezing artistically ever since daylight. Darn me for leaving my old +sourdough coat at home when I hit for the land of orange blossoms and +singing birds and sunshine." + +"Aw, gwan! I never was warm a minute in Los Angeles except when I got hot +at the Acme. Montana never seen the day it was as cold as here." + +"Come on, boys, let's get these dissolve scenes of cattle perishing in a +blizzard. After that--hey, Annie! You come, make plenty fire, plenty +coffee. I show you location." + +Annie called gently to the little dog, and came striding down through the +snow to fall in docilely three paces behind her adored "brother," +Wagalexa Conka after the submissive manner of squaws toward the human +male in authority over them. + +"Coffee!" Weary murmured ecstatically. "Plenty fire, plenty +coffee--oh, mama!" + +Down in the flat where the bushes grew sparsely along the tiny arroyo now +gone dry, the herd had stopped from sheer exhaustion, and were already +nibbling desultorily upon the tenderest twigs. This was what Luck wanted +in his scene, though the cattle must be moved into the location he had +chosen where was just the background effect he wanted to get, with the +bare mesa showing in the far distance. There was a dreary interval of +riding and shouting and urging the cattle up over a low spur of the bluff +and down the other side, and the placing of them to Luck's satisfaction. +I fear that more than one of the boys wondered why that first bit of the +flat would not do, and why Luck insisted that they should bring the herd +to one particular point and no other, and why they must wear out their +horses, and themselves just fussing around among the cattle, scattering +one bunch, bringing others closer together, and driving certain animals +up to foreground, when they very much objected to going there. + +Luck had concealed his camera behind the rocks so that he could get a +"close shot" without registering the fact that the cattle were watching +him. His commands to "Edge that black steer over about even with that +white bank!" and later, "Put that cow and calf out this way and drive the +others back a little, so she will have the immediate foreground to +herself," were easier given than obeyed. The cow and calf, for instance, +were much inclined to shamble back with the others, and did not show any +appreciation for the foreground, wherein they were vastly unlike any +other "extras" ever brought before a camera. Still, in spite of all these +drawbacks, the moment arrived when Luck began to turn the crank with his +eyes keen for every detail of that bunch of forlorn, hungry, range cattle +huddled under the scant shelter of a ten-foot bank, while the snows fell +steadily in great flakes which Luck knew would give a grand storm-effect +on the screen. The Happy Family, free for the moment, crowded close to +the fire of dead sagebrush which Annie-Many-Ponies had lighted in the lee +of a high rock, and sniffed longingly at the smell which came steaming up +from the dented two-gallon coffee-boiler blackened from many a camp fire. + +Luck was turning the crank and watching his "foreground stuff" so that he +did not at first see the two riders who came loping down the hill which +he was using for background. Whether he would or no, he had got them in +several feet of good scene before he saw them and stopped his camera. He +shouted, but they came on headlong, slipping and sliding in the loose +snow. There could be no doubt that they were headed straight for the +group and felt that their business was urgent, so Luck stepped out from +behind the rocks and started toward them, motioning for them to keep out, +away from the cattle. + +"Better let me git in the lead right now," Applehead advised hastily, and +jumped in front of Luck as the two came lunging up. "I know these here +_hombres_, to my sorrer, too, now I'm tellin' yuh!" + +But Luck, feeling that his leadership might as well be established then +as any time, pushed the old man back. + +"What you want?" he demanded of the foremost who rode up. "Didn't you +hear me tell you to keep out around the cattle?" + +"_Adonde va V con mi vaca_?" snapped the first rider in high-keyed +Spanish. + +"My brother say where you go with our cattle?" interrupted the other one, +evidently proud of his English. + +"I know what he said," Luck snubbed this one bluntly. "I don't know that +they are your cattle. I don't care. We're using them to make motion +pictures. Get outa the way so we can go on with our work." Had he not +spoiled several feet of film because of their coming he might have been +more inclined to placate them. As it was, he did not welcome their +interference, he did not like their looks, and their tones were to his +temper as tow would be to a fire. Their half Mexican, half American dress +irritated him; the interruption exasperated him. He was hungry and cold +and keyed to a high nervous tension in his anxiety to make the most of +his present big opportunity; he knew too well that he might not have +another chance all winter, with the snow falling as if under his +direction. + +"Get over there outa range of the camera!" he commanded them sharply, +"then you can spout Mex. till you're black in the face, for all I care. +I'm busy." To make himself absolutely understood he repeated the gist of +his remarks in Spanish before he turned his back on them to finish his +interrupted scene. + +Whereupon one swore in Spanish and the other in English, and they both +declared that they would take their cattle right now, and reined their +horses toward the shifting herd. + +"Hold on thar, Ramone Chavez!" shouted Applehead, striding forward. +"Didn't you hear the boss tell ye to git outa the way, both of yuh? Yuh +better do it, now I'm tellin' yuh, 'cause if yuh don't, they's goin' to +be right smart of a runction around here! A good big share uh them thar +cattle belongs to me. Don't ye go messin' in there amongst 'em; you jest +ride back outa the way uh that thar camery. Git!" + +At Applehead's command they "got," at least as far as the camp fire, +where the bright shawl of Annie-Many-Ponies caught and held their +interest. Annie-Many-Ponies, being a woman who had both youth and +beauty and sensed instinctively the value of both, sent a slant-eyed +glance and a half smile toward Ramone, who possessed more good looks +and more English than his brother. The Happy Family eyed them with a +tolerant indifference and moved aside with reluctant hospitality when +Ramone dismounted shiveringly and came forward to warm his fingers over +the blaze. + +"She's cold day, you bet," Ramone remarked ingratiatingly. + +"She ain't what you could call hot," Big Medicine conceded drily, since +no one else showed any disposition to reply. + +"We don't get much snow like this. You live in Albuquerque, perhaps?" + +There was really no excuse for snubbing these two, who had been well +within their rights in making an investigation of this unheralded and +unauthorized gathering of all the cattle on this range. Andy told Ramone +where they were staying and where they came from, and let it go at that. +The less Americanized brother dismounted and joined the group with a nod +of greeting. + +"My brother Tomas," announced Ramone, with a flash of white teeth, his +eyes shifting unobtrusively toward Annie-Many-Ponies, who wore a secret, +half-smiling air of provocative interest in him. "Not spik much English, +my brother. Always stay too much at home. Me, I travel all over--Denver, +Los Angeles, San Francisco. I ride in all contests--Pueblo, San +Antonio--all over. Tomas, he go not so often. His head, all for +business--making money--get rich some day. Me, I spend. My hand wide open +always. Money slip fast." + +"There's plenty of us marked that way," Weary made good-natured comment, +turning so that his back might feel the heat of the fire. + +"Shunka Chistala!" murmured Annie-Many-Ponies in her soft contralto to +the little black dog, and moved away to the mountain wagon, with the dog +following close to her moccasined heels. + +Ramone looked after her with frank surprise at the strange words. "Not +Spanish, then?" he ventured. + +"Indian," the Native Son explained briefly, and added, perhaps for +reasons of his own, "Sioux squaw." + +Ramone very wisely let his curiosity rest there. He had a good excuse, +for Luck, having finished work for the time being, came tramping over to +the fire. At him Ramone glanced apologetically. + +"We borrow comfort from your fire, _señor_," he said indifferently. +"She's bad day for riding." + +Luck nodded, already ashamed of having lost his temper, yet not at the +point of yielding openly to any overtures for peace. "Soon as we eat," he +said to Weary and those others who stood nearest, "I'll have you cut out +that poor cow and calf and drive 'em down the flat here, so I can get +that other scene I was telling you about." + +"Wagalexa Conka, here is plenty hot coffee," came a soft voice at his +elbow, and Luck turned with a smile to take the steaming cup from the +hand of Annie-Many-Ponies. + +The Native Son poured a cup and offered it to Tomas Chavez. "_Quire +cafe_?" he asked. + +"_Si, señor; Gracias_." Tomas smiled, and took the cup and bowed. +Annie-Many-Ponies herself, with a sidelong glance at Luck to see if she +might dare, carried the biggest cup of coffee to Ramone, and smiled +demurely when he took it and looked into her eyes and thanked her. + +In this fashion did the social sky clear, even though the snow continued +to drive against those who broke bread together out there in the dreary +wastes, with the snow halfway to their knees. The Native Son, being half +Spanish and knowing well the language of his father, talked a little with +Tomas. Ramone made himself friendly with any one who would give him any +attention. But Applehead scowled over his boiled-beef sandwich and his +coffee, and kept his back turned upon the Chavez brothers, and would not +talk at all. He eyed them sourly when they still loitered after the meal +was over and the remains packed away in the box by Annie-Many-Ponies, and +Luck had gone to work again with Bill Holmes at his heels and the boys +helping to place the cattle to Luck's liking. + +When the Chavez brothers finally did show symptoms of intending to leave, +Luck beckoned to Tomas, whom he judged to be the leader. "Here," he said +in Spanish, when Tomas had come close to him. "I will pay you for using +your cattle. When I am through, my boys will drive them back to the mesa +again. For my picture I may need them again, _señor_. I promise you they +will not be harmed." And he charged in his expense book the sum, "to use +of locations." + +"_Gracias_," said Tomas, and took the five dollars which Luck could ill +afford to give, but which he felt would smooth materially the trail to +their future work. Cattle he must have for his picture; cattle he would +have at any cost,--but it would be well to have them with the consent of +their owners. So the Chavez brothers rode away with smiles for their +neighbors instead of threats, and with five dollars which had come to +them like a gift. + +"Yuh might better uh kicked 'em outa here without no softsoapin' about +it, now I'm tellin' yuh!" Applehead grumbled when they were out of +earshot. "You may know your business better'n what I do, but by thunder I +wouldn't uh give 'em no five dollars--ner five cents. 'S like feedin' a +stray dog; yuh won't never git rid of 'em now. They'll be hangin' around +under yer feet--" + +"At that, I might have use for them," Luck retorted unmoved. "They're +fine types." + +"Types!" old Applehead exploded indignantly. "Types! They're +sneak-thieves and cutthroats 't I wouldn't trust fur's I could throw a +bull by the tail. That's what they be. Types,--my granny!" + + + + +CHAPTER FOURTEEN + +"PLUMB SPOILED, D' YUH MEAN?" + + +Luck came out of the dark room with the still, frozen, look of a trouble +that has gone too deep for words. Annie-Many-Ponies eyed him aslant and +straightway placed the hottest, juiciest piece of steak on his plate, and +poured his coffee even before she poured for old Dave Wiswell, whom she +favored as being an old acquaintance of the Pine Ridge country. + +Once when her father, old chief Big Turkey, had broken his leg and +refused to have a doctor attend him, and had said that he would die if +his "son" did not make his leg well, Luck had looked as he looked now. +Still, he had set chief Big Turkey's leg so well that it grew straight +and strong again. Annie-Many-Ponies might be primitive as to her nature +and untutored as to her mind, but she could read the face of her brother +Wagalexa Conka swiftly and surely. Something was very bad in his heart. +Annie-Many-Ponies searched her soul for guilt, remembered the smile she +had given to Ramone Chavez whom Wagalexa Conka did not like, and +immediately she became humbled before her chief. + +Shunka Chistala--which is Sioux for little dog--she banished into the +cold, and hardened her heart, against his whining. It is true that +Wagalexa Conka had not forbidden her to have the little dog in the +house, but in his displeasure he might make the dog an excuse for +scolding her and for taking the part of Rosemary, who hated dogs in the +house, and who was trying, by every ingratiating means known to woman, +to make a friend of Compadre. Rosemary was a white woman and the wife of +Wagalexa Conka's friend; Annie-Many-Ponies was an Indian girl, not even +of the same race as her brother Wagalexa Conka. And although her vanity +might lead her to believe herself and her smile the cause of Luck's +mask-like displeasure, she had no delusions as to which side he would +take in an argument between herself and Shunka Chistala on the one side, +and Rosemary and Compadre on the other; and in the back of her mind +lived always the fear that Wagalexa Conka might refuse to let her stay +and work for him in pictures. + +Therefore Annie-Many-Ponies crouched humbly before the rock +fireplace, until Luck missed her at the table and told her to come +and eat; she came as comes a dog who has been beaten, and slid into +her place as noiselessly as a shadow,--humility being the heritage of +her sex and race. + +No one talked at all. Even Rosemary seemed depressed and made no attempt +to stir the Happy Family to their wonted cheerfulness. They were worn out +from their long day that had been filled with real hardships as well as +work. In the general silence, Luck's deeper gloom seemed consistent and +only to be expected; for hard as the others had worked, he had worked +harder. His had been the directing brain; his hand had turned the camera +crank, lest Bill Holmes, not yet familiar with his duties, might fail +where failure would be disaster. He had endured the cold and the storm, +tramping back and forth in the snow, planning, directing, doing literally +the work of two men. Annie-Many-Ponies alone knew that exhaustion never +brought just that look into Luck's face. Annie-Many-Ponies knew that +something was very bad in Luck's heart. She knew, and she trembled while +she ate with a precise attention to her table manners lest he chide her +openly before them all. + +"How long do you think this storm will last, Applehead?" Luck asked, when +he had walked heavily over to the fireplace for his smoke, and had drawn +a match sharply along the rough face of a rock. + +"We-ell, she's showin' some signs uh clearin' up to-night," Applehead +stated with careful judgment, because he felt that Luck's question had +much to do with Luck's plans, and was not a mere conversational bait. +"Wind, she's shiftin', er was, when I come in to supper. She shore come +down like all git-out ever since she started, and I calc'late she's about +stormed out. I look fer sun all day to-morrer, boy." This last in a tone +of such manifest encouragement that Luck snorted. (Back by the table in +the kitchen, Annie-Many-Ponies paused in her piling of plates and +listened breathlessly. She knew that particular sound. Wagalexa Conka +would presently reveal what was bad in his heart.) + +"That would be my luck, all right," her chief stated pessimistically. + +"What's the matter with the sun, now?" Big Medicine boomed reprovingly. +"Comin' in, you said you had your blizzard stuff, and now if the sun'd +jest come out, by cripes, you'd be singin' songs uh thanksgivin'--er +words to that effect. Honest to gran'ma, there's folks that'd kick if--" + +"But I haven't got my blizzard stuff," Luck stated, harshly because of +the effort to speak at all. "All that negative I took to-day is chuck +full of 'static.'" + +Annie-Many-Ponies, out in the kitchen, dropped a granite-iron plate, but +the others merely stared at Luck uncomprehendingly. + +"Well, say, by cripes! What's statics?" demanded Big Medicine +pugnaciously, as though he meant to ward off from his mind the +realization of some new misfortune. + +Luck's lips twitched in the faint impulse toward a smile that would not +come. "Statics," he explained, "is that branch of mechanics that relates +to bodies held at rest by the forces acting on them. In other words, it +is electricity in a stationary charge, the condition being produced by +friction, or induction. In other words--" + +"In other words," Big Medicine supplied glumly, "I can shut up and mind +my own business. I get yuh, all right!" + +"Nothing like that, Bud," Luck corrected more amiably, warmed a little by +the sympathy he knew would follow close upon the heels of understanding. +"Static is a technical word used a good deal in motion-picture +photography. In this case it was caused, I think, by the difference of +temperature in the metal parts of the camera and negative, and the +weather outside the camera box. I've been keeping it here in the house +where it's warm, and I took it out into the cold and started +work--_sabe_? And the grinding of the bearings, and the action of the +film on the race plate, generated static electricity in tiny flashes +which lighted up the interior of the camera and light-exposed the +negative, as it was passing from one magazine to another. When it's +developed, these flashes show up in contrasty lights, like tiny grape +vines; I can show you that part; I've got about a mile of it, more or +less, there in the dark room." + +"Plumb spoiled, d' yuh mean?" Big Medicine asked, his voice hushed before +the catastrophe. + +"Plumb spoiled." Luck threw his cigarette stub viciously into the +blaze. "All that drifting herd, all that panoram of Andy and +Miguel--all--everything I took to-day, with the exception of those last +scenes with the cow and calf. The one where the cow is down and the snow +drifting over her, and the calf huddled there by the carcass,--that's +dandy. Camera and negative were cold as the outside air by that time. +That one scene will stand out big; it's got an awful big punch, provided +I had the stuff leading up to it, which I haven't got." + +"Hell!" said Andy softly, voicing the dismay of them all. + +Presently old Applehead unlimbered himself from his chair and went out +into the cold and darkness. When he came back, ribbing his knuckles +for warmth, he stood before the fireplace and ruminated dispiritedly +before he spoke. + +"Ain't ary hope of it blizzardin' to-morrer, boy," he broke his silence +reluctantly, "'less the wind changes, which she don't act to me like +she's got ary notion of doin'; she's shore goin' to blind ye with sun +to-morrer, now I'm tellin' yuh." + +"Well, there won't be any more static in my film," Luck declared with +sudden decision, and carried his camera outside. When he returned +Applehead eyed him solicitously. + +"We-ell, this ain't but the middle uh November, yuh want to recollect," +he said. "We're liable to have purtier storms 'n what this here one was, +'fore winter's over. Cattle'll be in worse condition, too,--ribs stickin' +out so'st you kin count 'em a mile off 'n' more. Way winter's startin' +in, wouldn't s'prise me a mite if we had storms all through till spring +opens up." + +Luck knew the old man was trying in his crude way to encourage him, but +he made no reply, and Applehead relapsed into drowsy meditation over his +pipe. The boys, yawning sleepily, trailed off to bed in the Ketch-all +cabin. Rosemary and Annie-Many-Ponies, having finished washing the dishes +and tidying the kitchen, came through the room on their way to bed, +Annie-Many-Ponies cunningly hiding the little black dog behind her +skirts. Rosemary frowned at the two and went to the door and called +Compadre; but the blue cat, scenting a dog in the house, meowed his +regrets and would not come. + +"I'll take 'im down with me," said Applehead, rising stiffly. "He cain't +take no comfort in the house no more--not till he spunks up and licks +that thar dawg a time er two. Comin', Luck?" he added, waiting at the +door. But Luck was staring into the fire and did not seem to hear him, so +Applehead went off alone to where the Happy Family were already creeping +thankfully into their hard bunks. + +The house grew still; so still that Luck could hear the wind whispering +in the chimney, coming from the quarter which meant clearing weather. He +sighed, flung more wood on the coals to drive back the chill of the +night, and got out his scenario and some sheets of blank paper and a +pencil. He had sold his typewriter when he was raising money for this +trip, and he was inclined now to regret it. But he sharpened the pencil, +laid a large-surfaced "movie" magazine across his knees, and prepared to +revise his scenario to meet his present limitations. + +With a good thousand feet of film spoiled through no real fault of his +own, and with the expenses he knew he must meet looming inexorably before +him, he simply could not afford a leading woman. Therefore, he must +change his story, making it a "character" lead instead of the +conventional hero and heroine theme. Chance--he called it luck--had sent +him Annie-Many-Ponies, who "Wants no monies." He must change his story so +that she would fit into it as the necessary feminine element, but he was +discouraged enough that night to tell himself that, just as he had her +placed and working properly, the Indian Agent or her father, old Big +Turkey, would probably demand her immediate return. In his despondent +mood he had no faith in his standing with the Indians or in the letter he +had written to the Agent. His "one best bet", as he put it, was to make +her scenes as soon as possible, before they had time to reach him with a +letter; therefore he must reconstruct his scenario immediately, so that +he could get to work in the morning, whatever the weather. + +He read the script through from beginning to end, and his heart went +heavy in his chest. He did not want to change one scene of that Big +Picture. Just as it stood it seemed to him perfect in its way. It had the +bigness of the West when the West was young. It had the red blood of +courage, the strength of achievement, the sweetness of a great love. It +was, in short, Luck's biggest, best work. Still, without a woman to play +that lead-- + +Luck sighed and dampened his pencil on his tongue and drew a heavy line +through the scene where "Marian" first appeared in the story. It hurt him +like drawing a hot wire across his hand. It was his first real +compromise, his first step around an obstacle in his path rather than his +usual bold jump over it. He looked at the pencil mark and considered +whether he could not send for a girl young in the profession, who would +be satisfied with her transportation and thirty or forty dollars a week +while she stayed. He could make all her scenes and send her back. But a +little mental arithmetic, coupled with the cold fact that he did not know +of any young woman who was capable of doing the work he required and +would yet be satisfied with a small salary, killed that new-born hope. He +drew a line through the next scene where the girl appeared. + +When he had quite blotted the girl from his story, he was appalled at the +gap he must fill in the continuity and in the theme. He had left old Dave +Wiswell, his dried little cattleman, a childless old man--or else a +"squaw" man whose squaw has, presumably, died before the story began. +Somehow he could not "see" his cattleman as one who would set aside the +barrier of race and take a squaw for his wife. He could not see +Annie-Many-Ponies as anything save what she was--a beautiful young savage +with an odd adornment of civilized speech and some of the civilized +customs, it is true, but a savage for all that. He did not want to spoil +her by portraying her as a half-caste in his picture. + +He must make his story a man's story, with the full interest centered +about the man's hopes, his temptations, his achievements. The +woman--Annie, as he saw the woman now--must be of secondary interest. He +laid his head against the chair back in his favorite attitude for +uninterrupted thought, and stared into the fire. In this way he had +stared out into the night of the Dakota prairie; at first brooding in +discontent because things were not as he would have them, then drifting +into dreams of what he would like; then weaving his dreams together and +creating a something complete in itself. So had he created his Big +Picture,--the picture which was already beginning to live in the narrow +strips of negative. A few hundred feet of that negative were even dry and +filed away ready for cutting; unimportant scenes, to be sure, with all of +his "big stuff" yet to be produced. His mind went methodically over the +completed scenes, judging each one separately, seeking some change of +plot that would yet permit these scenes to be used. From there his +thought drifted to the day's work in the blizzard,--the day's work that +had been lost because of atmospheric conditions. Blizzard stuff he must +have, he told himself stubbornly. Not only was that a phase of the range +which he must portray if his picture were to be complete; he must have it +to lead the story up to that tragic, pitifully eloquent scene which had +come out clear and photographically perfect,--the scene of the old cow's +struggle against the storm and of her final surrender, too weak to match +her puny strength against the furies of wind and snow and cold. That +scene would live long in the minds of those who saw it; that scene alone +would lift his picture above the dead level of mediocrity. But he must +have another blizzard.... + +His eyelids drooped low over his tired eyes; through their narrowing +opening he stared at the yellow glow of the fire. Only half awake, he +dreamed of the herd drifting down that bleak hillside, with Andy and the +Native Son riding doggedly after them. Only half awake, his story +changed, grew indistinct, clarified in stray scenes, held aloof from +him, grew and changed, and was another story. And always in the +background of his mind went that drifting herd. Sometimes snow-whitened, +their backs humped in the wind, their heads lowered and swaying weakly +from side to side, the cattle marched and marched before him, sometimes +obscured by the blackness of night, a vague procession of moving +shadows; sometimes revealed suddenly when the lightning split the +blackness. Like a phantom herd-- + +"The phantom herd!" Aloud he cried the words. "_The Phantom Herd_!" He +sat up straight in his chair. Here was his title, for which his mind had +groped so long and could not grasp. His title-- + +"What--that you, Luck?" Andy Green's voice came sleepily from the next +room. "What yuh want?" + +"I've got my title!" Luck called back, his voice exultant. "And I've got +my story, too! Get up, Andy, and let me tell you the plot!" + +Whereupon Andy proved himself a real friend and an unselfish one. He felt +as if getting up out of bed was the final, supreme torture under which a +man may live; but he got up, for there was something in Luck's voice that +thrilled him even through the clogging sleep-hunger. Presently he was +sitting in his trousers and socks and shirt, sleepy-eyed beside Luck. + +"Shoot it outa your system," he mumbled, and began feeling stupidly for +his cigarette papers. "_E--a-ough!_" he yawned, if so inarticulate a +sound may be spelled. "I knew you'd have to work your story over," he +said, more normal of tone after the yawn. And he added bluntly, +"Rosemary's one grand little woman--but she couldn't act if you trained +her a thousand years. What's your next best bet?" + +"No next best; it's _the_ picture this time. _The Phantom Herd_. Get that +as a title?" + +"Gee!" Andy softly paid tribute. Then he grinned. "By gracious, they +sure didn't act to me like any phantom herd when we first headed 'em +into that wind!" + +"Them babies are going to march us up to a pile of real money, though," +Luck asserted eagerly. + +"Listen. Here's the story--the part I've changed; all the first part is +the same--the trail-herd and all. You're old Dave's son, and you're +wild. You quarrel, and he turns you out, thinking he'll let you rustle +for yourself awhile, and maybe tame down and come back more like he wants +you to be. But you don't tame that way. You throw in with Miguel, and you +two turn rustlers. You hold a grudge against your dad, and you rustle +from him mostly, on the plea that by rights what's his is yours--you +know. Annie is Mig's sweetheart, and she's a kind of go-between--keeps +you posted on what's taking place on the outside, and all that. I +haven't," he explained hastily, "doped out the details yet. I'm giving +you the main points I want to bring out. Well, here's the big stuff; you +get a big herd together. You're holding 'em in a box canyon,--I know the +spot, all right,--waiting for a chance to drive them outa the country; +see? This blizzard hits, and you take advantage of it to drive the herd +out under cover of the storm. But the blizzard beats you. You trail 'em +along, but there's only two of you, and you can't keep 'em from swinging +away from the wind. You try to hold the herd into the storm,--that's +where I'll get my big storm effects,--but they swing off in spite of you. +Your horses get tired; all you can do is follow the herd. Lord! I wish +that stuff I took to-day wasn't spoiled! I sure would have had some big +stuff there. Well, Mig's horse goes down in a drifted wash. You're trying +to point the herd then, and the storm's so thick you don't miss him at +first, we'll say. + +"Anyway, as I've doped it out, Mig loses his life. You find him +dead--whether then or later I don't know yet. The punch is this: You have +been getting pretty sick of the life, and wishing you had behaved +yourself and stayed with your dad. But you've been afraid of Mig. You +couldn't see any chance of taking the back trail as long as he was alive +to tell on you. Now he's dead. I guess maybe you better find him right +there in the blizzard--hurt maybe--anyway, just about all in. You try to +save him, _sabe_? You can't, though." + +"I still don't see no phantom herd," observed Andy, wriggling his toes +luxuriously in the warmth of the fire. + +"Well, listen. You'll see it in a minute. You go back home after your +pard's dead. You have a close squeak yourself, see? And the thing works +on your mind. Cutting out the frills, you see things. You see a herd +drifting before a storm, maybe,--a blizzard like yesterday, with your pal +riding point. You try to come up with it--no herd there. You come to +yourself and go back home. Then maybe some black night you're brooding +before a fire like this--I can get a great firelight effect on your face, +sitting like this"--Luck, actor that he was, made Andy see just how the +scenes would look--"have a flare in the fire to throw the light back on +you; see what I mean? And outside a thunderstorm is rolling up. A bright +flash of lightning startles you. You go to the door and open it; you see +the herd drifting past with Mig trailing along on his horse--black +shadows, and then standing out clear in the lightning--" + +"How the deuce--" + +"I'll do that with 'lap dissolves' and double exposures. Lots of work +that will be, and careful work, but the result will be--why, Lord! It +will be immense! That herd and the lone rider haunt you till you're on +the edge of being crazy. Then I'll bring out somehow that it's a nervous +condition, which of course it is. And I'll bring old Dave in strong; he +follows you some night, and he finds out what you're after. You tell +him--make a clean breast of your rustling, see? Just unburden your mind +to your dad. He's big enough to see that he isn't altogether clear of +guilt himself, for sending you off the way he did. Anyway, that pulls you +out of it. The phantom herd and rider pass over the sky line some +night--Lord, I can see what a picture I can get out of that!--and out of +your life." + +"Unh-hunh--that's a heap better than your first story, Luck." + +"Andy, are you boys going to talk all night?" the voice of Rosemary came +plaintively from the next room. + +"Here. You go back to bed," Luck generously commanded. "I just wanted to +get your idea of what it sounds like. I'll block it out before I turn in. +Go on, now." + +So Luck wrote his new story of _The Phantom Herd_ that night. He had a +midnight supper of warmed-over coffee and cold bean sandwiches, but he +did not have any sleep. When he had finished with a last big, artistic +scene that made his pulse beat faster in the writing of it, the white +world outside was growing faintly pink under the rising sun. + + + + +CHAPTER FIFTEEN + +A LETTER FROM CHIEF BIG TURKEY + + +Annie-Many-Ponies, keen of eye when her heart directed her glances, saw +the Kyle postmark on a letter while Applehead was sorting Luck's mail +from the weekly batch he had just brought. Luck also spied the Kyle +postmark and the familiar handwriting of George-Low-Cedar, who was a +cousin of Annie-Many-Ponies and the most favored scribe of Big Turkey's +numerous family. There was no mistaking those self-conscious shadings on +the downward strokes of the pen, or the twice-curled tails of all the +capitals. The capital M, for instance, very much resembled a dandelion +stem split and curled by the tongue of a little girl. + +George-Low-Cedar and none other had written that letter, and Big Turkey +himself had probably composed it in great deliberation over his pipe, +while the smoke of his _tepee_ fire curled over his head, and his squaw +crouched in the shadow listening stolidly while her heart ached with +longing for the girl-child who had gone a-wandering. Annie-Many-Ponies +slid unobtrusively to the door and flattened her back against the wall +beside it, ready to slip out into the dusk if she read in Wagalexa +Conka's face that the letter was unpleasant. + +Luck did not say a word while he held the letter up and looked at it; he +did not say a word, but Annie-Many-Ponies knew, as well as though he had +spoken, that he too feared what the contents might be. So she stood flat +against the wall and watched his face, and saw how his fingers fumbled at +the flap of the envelope, and how slowly he drew out the cheap, heavily +ruled, glazed paper that is sold alongside plug tobacco and pearl buttons +and safety pins in the Indian traders' stores. Staring from under her +straight brows at that folded letter, Annie-Many-Ponies had a swift, +clear vision of the little store set down in the midst of barrenness and +dust, and of the squaws sitting wrapped in bright shawls upon the +platform while their lords gravely purchased small luxuries within. As a +slim, barefooted papoose, proud of her shapeless red calico slip buttoned +unevenly up the back with huge white buttons, and of her hair braided in +two sleek braids and tied with strips of the same red calico, she had +stood flattened against the wall of the store while her father, Big +Turkey, bought tobacco. She had hoped that the fates might be kind and +send her a five-cent bag of red-and-white gum drops. Instead, Big Turkey +had brought her a doll,--a pink-cheeked doll of the white people. In her +cheap suitcase which she had carried wrapped in her shawl on her back to +the ranch, Annie-Many-Ponies still had that doll. So with her eyes fixed +upon the letter, her mind stared trance-like at the vision of that +long-ago day which had been to her so wonderful. + +Then Wagalexa Conka looked at her and smiled, and the vision of the store +and the slim, barefooted papoose with her doll vanished. The smile meant +that all was well, that she might stay with Wagalexa Conka and be his +Indian girl in the picture of _The Phantom Herd_. Annie-Many-Ponies +smiled back at him,--the slow, sweet, sphinx-like smile which Luck called +"heart-twisting,"--and slipped out into the night with her heart beating +fast in a strange mixture of joy that she might stay, and of homesickness +for the little store set down in the midst of barrenness and dust, and +for that long-ago day that had been so wonderful. + +"Read this," said Luck, still smiling, and gave the letter into the +flour-dusted hands of Rosemary. "Ever see a real, dyed-in-the-wool, +Indian letter? Sure takes a load off my mind, too; you never can tell how +an idea is going to hit an Indian. Pass it on to the boys." + +So Rosemary read, with the whole Happy Family crowding close to look over +her shoulder: + +Kyle, P. Office +Pine Ridge, So. D +Monday, Nov. + +Luck Lindsay +at Motion Pictures ranch, +Albequrqe, New M. + +Friend son, + +I this day gets letter from agent at agency who tell my girl you sisters +are now at New mexicos with you pictures. shes go way one days at night +times and to-morrow mornings i no find him. i am glad she sees you. you +Take care same as with shows them Buffalo bill. all indians have hard +times for cold and much hays and fires of prairies loses much. them +indians shake you hands with good hearts they have with you. send me blue +silks ribbon send Me pictures so i can see you. Again i shake you by +hand with good heart same as I see you. Speak one Letters quick again. + +you father, +BIG TURKEY. + +"Pretty good spelling, for an Indian letter," Rosemary commented +suspiciously. "Are you sure an Indian wrote it, Luck Lindsay?" + +"Why, certainly, I'm sure!" Luck was shuffling his other letters with the +air of a man whose mind has for the moment lost its load of trouble. +"George-Low-Cedar wrote it. I know his writing. He's Annie's cousin, and +he thinks he's highly educated. Indians have great memories, and once +they learn to spell a word, they never seem to forget it. They learn to +spell in school. What they don't learn is how to put the words together +the way we do. Cousin George is also shaky on capitals, you notice. Now +to-morrow we can go ahead with that big cattle-stuff. I can take my time +about making Annie's scenes; I was afraid I might have to rush them all +through first thing, so as to send her back. I'm sure glad she can stay; +she's good to have around, to help in the house." + +Rosemary screwed up her lips and gave him a queer look, but Luck had +turned his attention to another letter, and she did not say what was in +her mind. Annie-Many-Ponies, speaking theoretically, was good to have +around to help Rosemary. In actual practice, however, Rosemary found her +not so good. Personally Annie was fastidiously tidy, which Rosemary +ungenerously set down to youthful vanity rather than to innate +cleanliness. When it came to washing dishes, however, Annie-Many-Ponies +left much to be desired. She was prone to disappear about the time she +reached the biscuit-basin and the frying-pan stage of the thrice-daily +performance. She was prone to fancy she heard Wagalexa Conka calling her, +or Shunka Chistala barking in pursuit of the cat, or a hen cackling out +in the weeds; whatever the sound, it invariably became a summons which +Annie-Many-Ponies must instantly obey. Then she forgot to come back +within the next two or three hours, and Rosemary must finish the dishes +herself. But all this, as Rosemary well knew, was an unimportant detail +of the general scheme of work going on at Applehead's ranch. + +To her it seemed wonderful, the way Luck was pushing his picture to +completion against long odds sometimes, fighting some difficulty always. +Much as she secretly resented certain Indian traits in Annie-Many-Ponies, +and pleased as she would secretly have been if the girl had been recalled +to the reservation, she was generously relieved because Luck could now go +ahead with his round-up and trail-herd scenes while the weather was mild +and sunny, and need not hurry the Indian-girl scenes at all. + +In the ten days since the blizzard, Luck had worked hard. Some night +scenes in a cow-town he had already taken, driving late in the afternoon +into Albuquerque with his radium flares and his full company. Rosemary's +memory cherished those nights as rare and precious experiences. First +there were the old-time scenes, half Mexican in their atmosphere, when +the dried little man was young, and the trail-herd started north. For +these scenes Luck himself played the part of Dave Wiswell, turning the +camera work over to Bill Holmes. Then there were the scenes of a later +period,--scenes of carousal which depicted her beloved Andy as a very +wild young man who spent his nights riotously. One full day of sunshine +had also been spent at the stockyards there, taking shipping scenes. + +On this day the two women had stayed at home, and Rosemary had nearly +quarreled with Annie-Many-Ponies because Annie would not mend her +stockings, but had spent the whole afternoon teaching Shunka Chistala +to chase prairie dogs, the game being to try and frighten them away +from their holes and then catch them. Annie-Many-Ponies attended to the +strategic direction of the enterprise and let Shunka Chistala do most +of the running. The high, clear laughter of the girl and her +unintelligible cries to the little black dog had irritated Rosemary to +the point of tears. + +There had been no more days wasted because of spoiled film,--Luck was +carefully guarding against that,--and it seemed to Rosemary that there +were miles of it developed and dried and pigeon-holed, ready for +assembling. That part of the work she was especially interested in, +because it was done in the house. + +To her it might seem that miles of film had been made, but to Luck it +seemed as though the work crawled with maddening deliberation. Delays +fretted him. The mounting expense account worried him, though as a matter +of fact it mounted slowly, considering the work he was doing and the size +of the company he was maintaining. When he took film clippings to a town +photographer to have enlargements made for "stills,"--the pictures which +must accompany each set of prints as advertising matter,--the cost of the +work gave him the blues for the rest of that day. Then there were the +Chavez boys, whom he had found it expedient to use occasionally in his +big range scenes and in his "cow-town stuff." They had no conception of +regular rates as extras, but Luck had a conscience, and he had also +established a precedent. Whenever he used them in pictures, he gave Tomas +five dollars and left it to Tomas to divide with Ramone. And five +dollars, added to other fives and tens and twenty-fives, soon amounts to +an amazing whole when anxiety holds the pencil. + +As his story had changed and developed into _The Phantom Herd_ plot, it +had lengthened appreciably, because he could not and would not sacrifice +his big range stuff. And double exposures meant double work, of course. +He found himself with a five-reel picture in the making instead of the +four-reeler he had started to produce. Thus he was compelled to send for +more "raw stock." Also, he soon ran out of lumber for his interior sets +and must buy more. As the possibilities of his production grew plainer to +him, Luck knew that he could not slight a single scene nor skimp it in +the making. He could go hungry if it came to that, but he could not +cheapen his story by using make-shift settings. + +Thanksgiving came, and they scarcely knew it, for the weather was fine, +and they spent the day far afield and came in after dark, too tired to be +thankful for anything save the opportunity to sleep. + +Christmas came so suddenly that they wondered where the month had gone. +Christmas Eve the Happy Family spent in arranging a round-up camp out +behind the house where the hill rose picturesquely, and in singeing +themselves heroically in the heat of radium flares, while Luck took his +camp-fire scenes that were triumphs of lighting-effects and +photography,--scenes which he would later tone red with aniline dyes. + +Annie-Many-Ponies and Rosemary brought out the two-gallon coffee boiler +and a can of cream and a small lard pail of sugar, with cups and tin +spoons and a pan of boiled-beef and cold-bean sandwiches. Rosemary called +"Merry Christmas!" when the dying radium flares betrayed her approach, +and the Happy Family jumped up and shouted "Merry Christmas!" to her and +one another, just as exuberantly as though they had been celebrating +instead of adding six hours or so to a hard day's work. + +"That was beautiful, Luck Lindsay," Rosemary declared, giving him a bean +sandwich for which he declared himself "strong," and holding the sugar +bucket steady while he dipped into it three times. + +"We were watching from the house; and the boys' faces, the way you +had them placed, looked--oh, I don't know, but it just sent shivers +all over me, it was so beautiful. I just hope it comes out that way +in the picture!" + +"Better," mumbled Luck, taking great, satisfying bites into the sandwich. +"Wait till you see it--after it's colored--with the chuck-box end of the +wagon showing, and the night horses standing back there in the shadows; +she will sure look like a million dollars!" + +"She'll shore depict me cookin' and the smoke bilin' up," poor old +Applehead remarked lugubriously. "Last five minutes er so I could hear +grease a-fryin' on my shins, now I'm tellin' yuh!" + +"Well, they don't use radium flares in cold-storage plants," Luck +admitted reflectively. + +"I know, by cripes, I'm goin' to mend my ways," Big Medicine +declared meaningly. "I never realized b'fore how fire 'n brimstone's +goin' to feel!" + +"Well, I've got to hand it to you, boys," Luck praised them with a smile. +"You sat tight, and when I said 'Hold,' you sure held the pose. You +dissolved perfectly--you'll see." + +"Aw, gwan!" contradicted Happy Jack with his mouth full. "I never +dissolved; I plumb melted!" + +"If you boys could just see how beautiful you looked," Rosemary reproved, +starting on her second round with the coffee boiler. "I saw it from +behind the camera, and Luck had you sitting so the light was shining on +your faces; honestly, you looked _beautiful_!" + +"Aw, gwan!" gurgled Happy Jack, reddening uncomfortably. + +"It's late," Luck broke in, emptying his cup the second time. "But I'm +going to make that firelight scene of you, Annie. The wind happens to be +just right for the flame effect I want. Did you make up, as I told you?" + +For answer, Annie-Many-Ponies threw back her shrouding red shawl and +stepped proudly out before him in the firelight. Her brown arms were bare +and banded with bracelets of some dull metal. Her fringed dress of +deerskin was heavily embroidered with stained porcupine quills. Her slim +feet were clothed in beaded moccasins. It was the gala dress of the +daughter of a chief, and as the daughter of a chief she stood straight +and slender and haughty before him. The Happy Family stared at her, +astonished. They had not even known that she possessed such a costume. + +Ordinarily the Happy Family would have taken immediate advantage of their +freedom and would have gone to bed and to the sleep for which their tired +bodies hungered the more as the food and hot coffee filled them with a +sense of well-being. But not even Rosemary wanted to go and miss any of +that wonderful scene where Annie-Many-Ponies, young savage that she was, +stood in the light of her flaming camp fire and prayed to her gods before +she went to meet her lover. She rehearsed it once before Luck lighted the +radium flares. Then, in the searing heat of that white-hot flame, which +will melt rock as a candle melts, Annie-Many-Ponies crossed herself, and +then lifted her young face and bare arms to the heavens and prayed as the +priest in the mission school had taught her,--a real prayer in her own +Indian tongue, while Luck turned the crank and gloated professionally in +her beauty. + +The Happy Family, watching her, remembered that it was Christmas morning; +remembered oddly, in the midst of their work, the old, old story of the +three Wise Men and the Star, and of the Wonder-Child in the manger. +Something there was in the voice and the face of Annie-Many-Ponies that +suggested it. Something there was of adoration in her upturned glance, as +if she too were looking for the Star. + +They did not talk much after that, and when they did, their voices were +lower than usual. They banked the fire with sand, and Bill Holmes +shouldered the camera with its precious store of scenes. As they trooped +silently down to the house and to their beds, they felt something of the +magnitude of life, something of the mystery. Behind them, treading +noiselessly in her beaded deerskin moccasins, Annie-Many-Ponies followed +like a houseless wraith of the plains, the little black dog at her heels. + + + + +CHAPTER SIXTEEN + +"THE CHANCES IS SLIM AND GITTIN' SLIMMER" + + +"Must be going to snow," Weary observed with a sly twinkle, "'cause Paddy +cat has got his tail brustled up bigger than a trapped coon." + +"Aw, that's because Shunky Cheestely chased him all the way up from the +corral a minute ago," Happy Jack explained the phenomenon. "I betcher he +swaps ends some uh these times and gives that dog the s'prise of his +life. He come purty near makin' a stand t'night." + +"We-ell, when he does turn on that thar mongrel purp, they's goin' to be +some dawg scattered around over the premises--now I'm tellin' yuh!" +Applehead cocked his eye toward Annie-Many-Ponies and nodded his head in +solemn warning. "He's takin' a mighty long chance, every time he turns +that thar trick uh chasin' Compadre all over the place; and them that +thinks anything uh that thar dawg--" + +"I betcher it's goin' to snow, all right," Happy Jack interrupted the +warning. "Chickydees was swarmin' all over the place, t'day." + +"We-ell, now, yuh don't want to go too much on them chickydees," +Applehead dissented. "Change uh wind'll set them flockin' and chirpin'. +Ain't ary flake uh snow in the wind t'day, fur's I kin smell--and I +calc'late I kin smell snow fur's the next one." + +"Oh, let's not talk about snow; that's getting to be a painful subject on +this ranch," Rosemary pleaded, while she placed twelve pairs of steel +knives and forks on the long, white-oilcloth-covered table. + +"'Painful subject' is right," Luck stated grimly, glancing up from the +endless figuring and scribbling which seemed to occupy all his time +indoors that was not actually given over to eating and sleeping. "If +you don't begin to smell snow pretty quick, Applehead, I can see where +_The Phantom Herd_ don't have any phantom herd." The corners of his +mouth quirked upward, though his smile was becoming almost a stranger +to his face. + +"We-ell, I dunno's you can blame me because it don't snow. I can't make +it snow if it takes a notion not to snow--" + +"Oh, come and eat, and never mind the snow," called Rosemary impatiently. + +"We've got to mind the snow--or we don't eat much longer!" Luck laid +aside his papers with the tired gesture which betrays heavy anxiety. "The +whole punch of the picture depends on that blizzard and what it leads up +to. It's getting close to March,--this is the twentieth of February,--and +the Texas Cattleman's Convention meets the first of April. I've got to +have the picture done by then, so as to show it and get their endorsement +as a body, in order to boost the sales up where they belong." + +"Mamma!" Weary looked up at him, open-eyed. "How long have you had that +notion in your head,--showing the picture to the Cattlemen's Convention? +I never heard of it." + +"I might say quite a few things you haven't heard me say before," Luck +retorted, so harassed that he never knew how sharp a snub he had given. +"I've had that in mind from the start; ever since I read when and where +the convention would meet this spring. We've got to have that blizzard, +and we've got to have it before many more days." + +"Oh, well, we'll have it," Rosemary soothed, as she would have comforted +a child. "I just know March will come in like a roaring lion! Have some +beans. They're different, to-night. I cooked them with plain salt pork +instead of bacon. You can't imagine what a difference it makes!" + +Luck was on the point of snapping out something that would have hurt her +feelings. He did not want baby-soothing. It did not comfort him in the +least to have her assure him that it would snow, when he knew she had +absolutely no foundation for such an assurance. But just before he spoke, +he remembered how bravely she had been smiling at hardships that would +have broken the spirit of most women, so he took the beans and smiled at +her, and did not speak at all. + +Trouble, that month, was riding Luck hard. The blizzard that was +absolutely vital to his picture-plot seemed as remote as in June. Other +storms had come to delay his work without giving him the benefit of any +spectacular effect. There had been days of whooping wind, when even the +saddle strings popped in the air like whiplashes, and he could not +"shoot" interior scenes because he could not shelter his stage from the +wind, and everything blew about in a most maddening manner to one who is +trying, for instance, to portray the calmness of a ranch-house kitchen at +supper time. + +There had been days of lowering clouds which brought nothing but +exasperating little flurries of what Applehead called "spit +snow,"--flurries that passed before Luck could get ready for a scene. +There had been one terrific sand storm which had nearly caught them in +the open. But Applehead had warned them, and Luck, fortunately for them +all, had heeded the warning. They had reached shelter just before the +full force of the storm had struck them, and for six hours the air was a +hell of sand in violent flight through the air. For six hours they could +not see as far as the stable, and the rooms were filled with an +impalpable haze of dust which filtered through minute crevices under the +roof and around the doors and windows. + +Luck, when that storm broke, was worried over his negative drying in the +garret, until he had hurried up the ladder to see what might be done. He +had found the film practically dry, and had carried it down in much +relief to his dark room which, being light-proof, was also practically +dust-proof. + +There had been other vexations, but there had been fine, clear days as +well. Luck had used those fine days to their full capacity for yielding +him picture-light. Could he have been certain of getting his "blizzard +stuff" now, he would have left but his one load of financial worry. That +was a heavy one, but he felt he could carry it with a better grace if +only he could be sure that his picture would be completed in time. + +"Pass the beans, Luck," Pink broke into his abstraction. "Seems like I've +had beans before, this week, but I'll try them another whirl, anyway." + +"Ever try syrup on 'em?" old Dave Wiswell looked up from his plate to +inquire. "Once you git to likin' 'em that way, they go pretty good for +a change." + +Pink, anxious for variety in the monotonous menu, but doubtful of the +experiment, poured a teaspoon of syrup over a teaspoon of beans, conveyed +the mixture to his mouth, and made a hurried trip to the door. "Say! was +that a joke?" he demanded, when he returned grimacing to his place. + +"Joke? No, ain't no joke about that," the dried little man testified +earnestly. "Once you git to likin' 'em that way--" + +Pink scowled suspiciously. "I'll take mine straight," he said, and sent a +resentful glance at Annie-Many-Ponies who was tittering behind her palm. + +"I calc'late I better beef another critter," Applehead suggested +pacifically. "Worst of it is, the cattle's all so danged pore they ain't +much pickin' left on their bones after the hide's skun off. If that +blizzard ever does come, Luck's shore goin' to have all the pore-cow +atmosphere he wants!" + +To Luck their talk, good-humored though it was, hurt him like a blow upon +bruised flesh. For their faith in him they were eating beans three times +a day with laughter and jest to sweeten the fare. For their faith in him +they were riding early and late, enduring hardships and laughing at them. +If he failed, he knew that they would hide their disappointment under +some humorous phase of the failure;--if they could find one. He could not +tell them how close he was to failure. He could not tell them in plain +words how much hung upon the coming of that storm in time for him to +reach the cowmen at their convention. Their ignorance of the profession +kept them from worrying much about it; their absolute confidence in his +knowledge let them laugh at difficulties which held him awake when they +were sleeping. + +But for all that he went doggedly ahead, trusting in luck theoretically +while he overlooked nothing that would make for success. While Applehead +sniffed the air and shook his head, Luck was doing everything he could +think of to keep things going steadily along to a completion of the +production. + +He made all of his "close-ups," his inserts, and sub-titles. He cut +negative by his continuity sheet at night after the others were all in +bed, and pigeon-holed the scenes ready for joining. He ordered what +"positive" he would need, and he arranged for his advertising matter. All +his interior scenes, save the double-exposure "vision" scenes, were done +by the fifteenth of March,--March which had not come in like a roaring +lion, as Rosemary had predicted with easy optimism, but which had been +nerve-wrackingly lamblike to the very middle of the month. + +With a dogged persistence in getting ready for the fulfilment of his +hopes, he ordered tanks and printer for the final work of getting his +stuff ready for the market. He had at best a crudely primitive outfit, +though he saw his bank balance dwindle and dwindle to a most despairingly +small sum. And still it did not snow nor show any faint promise of snow. + +"Well," he remarked grimly one morning, when the boys asked him at +breakfast about his plans, "you can go back to bed, for all I care. I've +done everything I can do--till we get that snowstorm. All we can do now +is sit tight and trust to luck." + +"What day uh the month is this?" Applehead wanted to know. His face was +solemn with his responsibility as a weather prophet. + +"The twentieth day of March," Luck replied, with the air of one who has +the date branded deep on his consciousness. + +"Twentieth uh March--hm-mm? We-ell, now, I have knowed it to storm, and +storm hard, after this time uh year. But comin' the way she did last +fall, 'n' all this here wind 'n' bluster 'n' snowin' on the Zandias and +never comin' no further down, I calc'late the chances is slim, boy--'n' +gittin' slimmer every day, now I'm tellin' yuh!" + +"Well, say! Ain't yuh got a purty fair pitcher the way she stands?" Big +Medicine inquired aggressively. "Seems t' me we've done enough ridin' +and actin', by cripes, t' make half a dozen pitchers better'n what I've +ever saw." + +"That isn't the point." Luck's voice was lifeless, with a certain dogged +combativeness that had come into it during the last two months. "We've +got to have that storm. This isn't going to be any make-shift affair. +We've got some good film, yes. But it's like starting a funny story and +being choked off before you get to the laugh in it. We've got to have +that storm, I tell you!" His eyes challenged them harshly to dispute his +statement. + +"Well, darn it, have your storm, then. I'm willin'," Big Medicine +bellowed with ill-timed facetiousness. "Pink, you run and git Luck a +storm; git him a good big one, guaranteed to last 'im four days or money +refunded. You git one--" + +"Listen, Bud." Luck stood suddenly before Big Medicine, quivering with +nervous rage. "Don't joke about this. There's no joke in this at all. No +one with any brains can see anything funny in having failure stare him in +the face. Twelve of us have put every ounce of our best work and our best +patience and every dollar we possess in the world into this venture. I've +worked day and night on this picture. I've worked you boys in weather +that wasn't fit for a dog to be out in. I've seen Rosemary Green slaving +in this dark little hole of a kitchen because we can't afford a cook for +the outfit. You've all been dead game--I'll hand it to you for +that--every white chip has gone into the pot. If we fail we'll have to +borrow carfare to get outa here. And here's Applehead. We've used his +ranch, we've used his house and his horses and himself; we've killed his +cattle for beef, by ----! And we've got just that one chance--the chance +of a storm--for winning out. One chance, and that chance getting slimmer +every day, as he says. No--there's no joke in this; or if there is, I've +lost my appetite for comedy. I can't laugh." He stopped as suddenly as he +had begun his rapid speech, caught up his hat, and went out alone into +the soft morning sunlight. He left silence behind him,--a stunned silence +that was awkward to break. + +"It's a perfect shame!" Rosemary said at last, and her lips were +trembling. "He's just about crazy--and I know he hasn't slept a wink, +lately, just from worrying." + +"I calc'late that's about the how of it," Applehead agreed, rubbing his +chin nervously. "He lays awful still, last few weeks, and that thar's a +bad sign fer him. And I ain't heerd 'im talkin' in his sleep lately, +either. Up till lately he made more pitchers asleep than he done awake. +Take it when things was movin' right along, Mis' Green, 'n' Luck was +shore talkative, now I'm tellin' yuh!" + +"My father, he got one oncle," Annie-Many-Ponies spoke up unexpectedly +from her favorite corner. "Big Medicine man. Maybe I write one letter, +maybe Noisy-Owl he come, make plenty storm. Noisy-Owl, he got awful +strong medicine for make storm come." + +"Well, by cripes, yuh better send for 'im then!" Big Medicine advised +gruffly, and went out. + + + + +CHAPTER SEVENTEEN + +THE STORM + + +_The Phantom Herd_, as the days slipped nearer and nearer to April, might +almost have been christened _The Forlorn Hope_. On the twenty-first the +sun was so hot that Luck rode in his shirt sleeves to Albuquerque, +stubbornly intending to order more "positive" for his prints in the final +work of putting his Big Picture into marketable form. He did not have the +slightest idea of where the money to pay for the stuff was coming from, +but he sent the letter ordering the stock sent C.O.D. He was playing for +big results, and he had no intention of being balked at the last minute +because of his timidity in assuming an ultimate success which was +beginning to look extremely doubtful. + +On the twenty-second, a lark flew impudently past his head and perched +upon a bush near by and sang straight at him. As a general thing Luck +loved to hear bird songs when he rode abroad on a fine morning; but he +came very near taking a shot at that particular lark, as if it were +personally responsible for the sunny days that had brought it out +scouting ahead of its kind. + +On the twenty-third the sky was a brassy blue, and Applehead won Luck's +fierce enmity by remarking that he "calc'lated he'd better get his garden +in." Luck went away off somewhere on the snuffy little bay, that day, and +did not return until after dark. + +On the twenty-fourth he took the boys away back on the mesa, where the +mountains shoulder the plain, and scattered them on a wide circle, +rounding up the cattle that had been permitted to drift where they would +in their famished search for the scant grass-growth. Bill Holmes and the +camera followed him in the buckboard with the lunch, and Luck, when the +boys had met with their gleanings, "shot" two or three short scenes of +poor cows and their early calves, which would go to help along his range +"atmosphere." To the Happy Family it seemed a waste of horseflesh to comb +a twenty-mile radius of mesa to get a cow and calf which might have been +duplicated within a mile of the ranch. The Happy Family knew that Luck +was wading chin deep in the slough of despond, and they decided that he +kept them riding all day just for pure cussedness. + +I suppose they thought that his orders to range-herd the cattle they had +gathered came from the same mood, but they did not seem to mind. They +did whatever he told them to do, and they did it cheerfully,--which, in +the circumstances, is saying a good deal for the Happy Family. So with +the sun warm as early May, and the new grass showing tiny green +blade-tips in the sheltered places, they began range-herding two +thousand head of cattle that needed all the territory they could cover +for their feeding grounds. + +The twenty-fifth day of March brought no faintest promise of anything +that looked like snow. Applehead sharpened his hoe and went pecking at +the soil around the roots of his grape-vine arbor, thereby irritating +Luck to the point of distraction. He had reached a nervous tension where +he could not eat, and he could not sleep, and life looked a nightmare of +hard work and disappointments, of hopes luring deceitfully only to crush +one at the moment of fulfilment. + +It was because he could not sleep, but spent the nights stretched upon +his side with his wide-open eyes boring into vacancy and a drab future, +that he heard the wind whine over the ridgepole of the squat bunk-house +and knew that it had risen from a dead calm since bedtime. The languor of +nervous exhaustion was pulling his eyelids down over his tired eyes, and +he knew that it must be nearly morning; for sleep never came to him now +until after Applehead's brown rooster had crowed for two o'clock. + +He closed his eyes and dreamed that he was "shooting" blizzard scenes +with the snow to his armpits. He was chilled to the middle of his bones, +and his hand went down unconsciously and groped for the blankets he had +pushed off in his restlessness. In his sleep he was yelling to the +Cattlemen's Convention to wait,--not to adjourn yet, because he had +something to show them. + +"Well, show'em, dang it, an' shut up!" muttered Applehead crossly, and +turned over on his good ear so that he could sleep undisturbed. + +Luck, half awakened by the movement, curled up with his knees close to +his chin and went on with his dream. With the wind still mooing +lonesomely around the corners of the house, he slept more soundly than he +had slept for weeks, impelled, I suppose, by a subconscious easement from +his greatest anxiety. + +A slow tap-tap-tapping on the closed door near his head woke him just +before dawn. The lightest sleeper of them all, Luck lifted his head with +a start, and opened his sleep-blurred eyes upon blackness. He called out, +and it was the voice of Annie-Many-Ponies that answered. + +"Wagalexa Conka! You come quick. Plenty snow come. You be awful glad +when you see. Soon day comes. You hurry. I make plenty breakfast, +Wagalexa Conka." + +As a soldier springs from sleep when calls the bugle, Luck jumped out +into the icy darkness of the room. With one jerk he had the door open and +stood glorying in the wild gust of snow that broke over him like a wave. +In his bare feet he stood there, and felt the snow beat in his face, and +said never a word, since big emotions never quite reached the surface of +Luck's manner. + +"Day come quick, Wagalexa Conka!" The voice of Annie-Many-Ponies urged +him from without, like the voice of Opportunity calling from the storm. + +"All right. You run now and have breakfast ready. We come quick." He held +the door open another half minute, and he heard Annie-Many-Ponies laugh +as she fought her way back to the house through the blinding blizzard. He +saw a faint glow through the snow-whirl when she opened the kitchen door, +and he shut out the storm with a certain vague reluctance, as though he +half feared it might somehow escape into a warm, sunny morning and prove +itself no more than a maddeningly vivid dream. + +"Hey! Wake up!" he shouted while he groped for a match and the lamp. +"Roll into your sourdoughs, you sons-uh-guns--" + +"Say, Applehead," came a plaintive voice from Pink's hunk, "make +Luck turn over on the other side, can't yuh? Darn a man that talks +in his sleep!" + +"By cripes, Luck's got to sleep in the hay loft--er I will," Big Medicine +growled, making the boards of his bunk squeak with the flop of his +disturbed body. + +Then Luck found the lamp and struck a match, and it was seen that he was +very wide awake, and that his face had the look of a man intent upon +accomplishment. + +The Native Son sat up in one of the top bunks and looked down at Luck +with a queer solemnity in his eyes. "What is this, _amigo_?" he asked +with a stifled yawn. "Another one of your Big Minutes?" + +"_Quien sabe_?" Luck retorted, reaching for his clothes as his small +ebullition subsided to a misleading composure. "Storm's here at last, and +we'll have to be moving. Roll out and saddle your ridge-runners; Annie's +got breakfast all ready for us." + +"Aw, gwan!" grumbled Happy Jack from sheer force of habit, and made haste +to hit the floor with his feet before Luck replied to that apparent doubt +of his authority. + +"Dress warm as you can, boys," Luck advised curtly, lacing his own heavy +buckskin moccasins over thick German socks, which formed his cold-weather +footgear. "She's worse than that other one, if anything." + +"Mamma!" Weary murmured, in a tone of thanksgiving. "She didn't come any +too soon, did she?" + +Luck did not reply. He pulled his hat down low over his forehead, opened +the door and went out, and it was as though the wind and snow and +darkness swallowed him bodily. The horses must first be fed, and he +fought his way to the stables, where Applehead's precious hay was +dwindling rapidly under Luck's system of keeping mounts and a four-horse +team up and ready for just such an emergency. He labored through the +darkness to the stable door, lighted the lantern which hung just inside, +and went into the first stall. The manger was full, and the feed-box +still moist from the lapping tongue of the gray horse that stood there +munching industriously. Annie-Many-Ponies had evidently fed the horses +before she called Luck, and he felt a warm glow of gratitude for her +thoughtfulness. + +He stopped at the bunk-house to tell the boys that they had nothing to do +but eat breakfast before they saddled, and found them putting on +overcoats and gloves and wrangling over the probable location of the herd +that would have drifted in the night. So they ploughed in a straggling +group to the house, where Annie-Many-Ponies was already pouring the +coffee when they trooped in. + +Day was just breaking when they rode out into the full force of the +belated storm and up on the mesa where they had left the cattle scattered +and feeding more or less contentedly at sundown. They had not gone a mile +until their bodies began to shrink under the unaccustomed cold. Bill +Holmes, town-bred and awkward in the open, thankfully resigned to the +Indian girl the dignity of driving the mountain wagon with its four-horse +team, and huddled under blankets, while Annie-Many-Ponies piloted them +calmly straight across country in the wake of the riders whom her beloved +Wagalexa Conka was leading on the snuffy bay. Save for the difference in +his clothes, Annie-Many-Ponies thought that he much resembled that great +little war-chief of the white people who rode ahead of his column in a +picture hanging on the wall of the mission school. Napoleon was the great +little war-chief's name, and her heart swelled with pride as she drove +steadily through the storm and thought what a great war-chief her brother +Wagalexa Conka might have made, were these but the days of much fighting. + +There was to be no trouble with "static" this time, if Luck could help +it. To be doubly safe from blurred film, he had brought his ray filter +along, for the flakes of snow were large and falling fast. He had chosen +a different location, because of the direction of the wind and the +difficulty the boys would have had in driving the cattle back in the face +of it to the side hill where he had first taken the scenes of the +drifting herd. + +To-day he "shot" them first as they were filing reluctantly out through a +narrow pass which was supposed to be the entrance to the box canyon where +the two rustlers, Andy and Miguel, had kept them hidden away. +Artistically speaking, the cattle were in perfect condition for such a +scene, every rib showing as they trooped past the clicking camera +cleverly concealed in a clump of bushes; hip bones standing up, lean legs +shambling slowly through the snow that was already a foot deep. Cattle +hidden for days and days in a box canyon would not come out fat and sleek +and stepping briskly, and Luck was well pleased with the realism of his +picture, even while he pitied the poor beasts. + +Later he took the drifting of the herd, and he knew in his heart that the +scenes were better than those he had lost. He took tragic scenes of the +Native Son in his struggle to keep up and to keep going. He took him as +he fell and lay prone in the snow beside his fallen horse while the +blizzard whooped over him, and the snow fell upon his still face. In his +zeal he nearly froze the Native Son, who must lie there during two or +three "cut-back" scenes, and while Andy was coming up in search of him. +When Andy lifted him and found him actually limp in his arms, the anxiety +which a "close-up" revealed in his face was not all art. However, he did +not say anything until Luck's voracious scene-appetite had been at least +partially satisfied. + +"By gracious, I believe the son-of-a-gun is about froze," he snapped out +then; Luck grinned mirthlessly and called to Annie for the precious +thermos bottle, and poured a cup of strong black coffee, added a generous +dash of the apricot brandy which he spoke of familiarly as his +"cure-all," and had the Native Son very much alive and tramping around to +restore the circulation to his chilled limbs before Bill Holmes had +carried the camera to the location of the next scene. + +"By rights I should have left you the way you were till I got this last +death scene where Andy buries you under the rock ledge so he can get home +alive himself," Luck told Miguel heartlessly, when they were ready for +work again. "You were in proper condition, brother. But I'm human. So +you'll have to do a little more acting, from now on." + +With his mats placed with careful precision, he took his dissolve +"vision stuff" of the blizzard and the death of Miguel,--scenes which +were to torment the conscience of Andy the rustler into full repentance +and confession to his father. While the boys huddled around Annie's camp +fire and guzzled hot coffee and ate chilled sandwiches, Luck took some +fine scenes of the phantom herd marching eerily along the skyline of a +little slope. + +He "shot" every effective blizzard scene he had dreamed of so +despairingly when the weather was fine. Some scenes of especial +importance to his picture he took twice, so as to have the +"choice-of-action" so much prized by producers. This, you must know, was +a luxury in which Luck had not often permitted himself to indulge. With +raw negative at nearly four cents a foot, he had made it a point to shoot +only such scenes as gave every promise of being exactly what he wanted. +But with this precious blizzard that numbed his fingers most +realistically while he worked, but never once worried him for fear the +sun was going to shine before he had finished, he was as lavish of +negative as though he had a million-dollar corporation at his back. + +That evening, when they were luxuriating before the fireplace heaped with +dry wood which the flames were licking greedily, Luck became, for the +first time in months, the old Luck Lindsay who had fascinated them at the +Flying U. He told them stories of his days with the "Bill show," and +called upon the giggling Annie-Many-Ponies for proof of their truth; +whereat Annie-Many-Ponies would nod her head vigorously and declare that +it was "No lie. I see him plenty times do them thing. I know." He +disputed energetically with Big Medicine over the hardships of the day's +work; and as a demonstration of the fact that he was perfectly able to go +out right then and shoot another seven hundred feet of film, he seized +upon the _tom-tom_ which Annie-Many-Ponies had made from a green calf +hide and an old cheese box, and in his moccasins he danced the Sioux +Buffalo Dance and several other dances in which Annie-Many-Ponies finally +joined and teetered around in the circle which the Happy Family +enthusiastically widened for the performers. + +Work there was yet to do, and plenty of it. Even if the weather came +clear on the morrow as he desired, he must make every minute count, if he +would take his picture to the Cattlemen's Convention. Work there was, and +problems there were to be solved. But he had his big blizzard stuff, and +he had his scenes of the phantom herd. So for an hour or two, on this +evening of triumph, Luck Lindsay threw care into a far corner, and danced +and sang as the Happy Family had never known he could do. + +"Here, Annie, take the drum; it's 'call the dog and put out the fire and +all go home.' If my luck stays with me, and the sun shines to-morrow, +we'll take these interiors of the double-exposure stuff. And then we'll +be eating on the run and sleeping as we ride, till that picture pops out +on the screen for the old cattlemen to see. Good night, folks; I'm going +to sleep to-night!" + +He went out whistling like a schoolboy going fishing. For luck was with +him once more, and his _Phantom Herd_ was almost a reality as a picture. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHTEEN + +A FEW OF THE MINOR DIFFICULTIES + + +However obliging fate may desire to be, certain of nature's laws must +be observed. Whether luck was disposed to stay with Luck Lindsay or +not, a storm such as the fates had conjured for his needs could not +well blow itself out as suddenly as it had blown itself in; so Luck did +not get all of his interior double-exposure stuff done the next day, +nor his remaining single-exposure stuff either. When his own reason and +Applehead's earnest assurances convinced him that the day after the +real blizzard day was going to be unfit for camera work, Luck took +Weary, Pink, and the Native Son to Albuquerque, rented a little house +he had discovered to be vacant, and set them to work building a drying +drum for his prints, according to the specifications he furnished them. +He hauled his tanks from the depot and showed the boys how to install +them so as to have the benefit of the running water, and got his +printer set up and ready to work; for he knew that he would have to +make his first prints himself, with the help of the Happy Family, the +photographer having neither the room nor the time for the work, and +Luck having no more than barely money enough to pay house rent and the +charges on his tanks and printer. + +Then, being an obliging young man when the fates permitted him to indulge +his natural tendencies, Luck made a hurried trip to a certain little shop +that had dusty mandolins and watches and guns and a cheap kodak in the +dingy window. He went in with his watch in his pocket ticking cheerfully +the minutes and hours that were so full of work and worry. When he came +out, the watch was ticking just as cheerfully in a drawer and the chain +was looped prosperously across his vest from buttonhole to empty pocket. +He went straight across to a grocery store and bought some salt pork and +coffee and cornmeal and matches which Rosemary had timidly asked him if +he could get. She explained apologetically that she was beginning to run +out of things, and that she had no idea they were going to have such +awful appetites, and that of course there were two extra people to feed, +and that they certainly could dispose of their share three times a +day,--meaning, of course, Annie-Many-Ponies and Bill Holmes. + +Even while his brain was doing swift mental gymnastics in addition and +subtraction, Luck had told her he would get whatever she wanted. His +watch brought enough to buy everything she asked for except a can of +syrup; and that, he told her, the groceryman must have overlooked, for he +certainly had ordered it. He called the groceryman names enough to +convince Rosemary that her list had not been too long for his purse, and +that Luck's occasional statement that he was broke must be taken +figuratively; Luck breathed a sigh of relief that Rosemary, at least, was +once more spared the knowledge that all was not yet plain sailing to a +smooth harbor. + +The next day being sunny, Luck finished the actual camera work on _The +Phantom Herd_. That night he and Bill Holmes developed every foot of +negative he had exposed since the storm began, and they finished just as +Rosemary rapped on the darkroom door and called that breakfast was +ready. Bill took it for granted that he could sleep, then, while the +negative was drying; but Luck was merciless; that Cattlemen's Convention +was only two days off,--counting that day which was already begun,--and +there was also a twelve-hour train trip, more or less, between his +picture and El Paso. + +Bill Holmes had learned to join film in movie theaters, and Luck set him +to work at it as soon as he had finished his breakfast. When Bill +grumbled that there wasn't any film cement, Luck very calmly went to his +trunk and brought some, thereby winning from Rosemary the admiring +statement that she didn't believe Luck Lindsay ever forgot a single, +solitary thing in his life! So Bill Holmes assembled the film, scene by +scene, without even the comfort of cigarettes to keep awake. At his elbow +Luck also joined film until the negative in the garret was dry enough to +handle, when he began cutting it according to the continuity sheet, ready +for Bill to assemble. + +Luck's mood was changeable that day. He would glow with the pride of +achievement when he held a yard or so of certain scenes to the light and +knew that he had done something which no other producer had ever done, +and that he had created a film story that would stand up like a lone peak +above the level of all other Western pictures. When those night scenes +were tinted--and that scene which had for its sub-title _Opening +Exercises_, and which showed the Happy Family mounting Applehead's +snakiest bronks and riding away from camp into what would be an orange +sunrise after the positive had been through its dye bath-- + +And then discouragement would seize him, and he would wonder how he was +going to get hold of money enough to take him to El Paso and the +Convention. And how, in the name of destitution, was he going to pay for +that stock of "positive" when it came? Applehead was dead willing to help +him,--that went without saying; but Applehead was broke. That last load +of horse-feed had cleaned his pockets, as he had cheerfully informed Luck +over three weeks before. Applehead was not, and never would be by his own +efforts, more than comfortably secure from having to get out and work for +wages. He had cattle, but he let them run the range in season and out, +and it was only in good years that he had fair beef to ship. He hated a +gang of men hanging around the ranch and eating their fool heads off, he +frequently declared. So he and Compadre had lived in unprosperous peace, +with a little garden and a little grape arbor and a horse for Applehead +in the corral, and teams in the pasture where they could feed and water +themselves, and a month's supply of "grub" always in the house. Applehead +called that comfort, and could not see the advantage of burdening himself +with men and responsibilities that he might pile up money in the bank. +You can easily see where the coming of Luck and his outfit might strain +the financial resources of Applehead, even though Luck tried to bear all +extra expense for him. No, thought Luck, Applehead would have to mortgage +something if he were to attempt raising money then. And Luck would have +taken a pack-outfit and made the trip to El Paso on horseback before he +would see Applehead go in debt for him. As it was, he was seriously +considering that pack-horse proposition as a last resort, and trying to +invent some way of shaving his work down so that he would have time for +the trip. But certain grim facts could not be twisted to meet his needs. +He simply had to print his positive for projection on the screen. And +that positive simply had to go through certain processes that took a +certain amount of time; and it simply had to be dry and polished before +he could wind it on his reels. Reels? Lord-ee! He didn't have any reels +to +wind it on! + +"What's the matter? Spoil something?" Bill Holmes asked indifferently, +pausing to look at Luck before he took up the next strip of celluloid +ribbon with its perforated edges and its little squares of shadowlike +pictures that to the unpractised eye looked all alike. + +"No. What reel is that you're on now? We want to be in town before dark +with this stuff, so as to start the printer going to-night." By +printing, that night, and by hard riding, he might be able to make it, +he was thinking. + +"Think we'll be through in time?" + +"Certainly, we'll be through in time." Luck held up another strip to see +where to cut it. "We've got to be through!" + +"I'm liable to be joining this junk by the sides instead of the ends, +before long," Bill hinted. + +"No, you won't do anything like that." Luck's voice had a disturbing note +of absolute finality. + +Bill looked at him sidelong. "A fellow can't work forever without sleep. +My head's splitting right now. I can hardly see--" + +"Yes, you can see well enough to do your work--and do it right! +Get that?" + +Bill grunted. Evidently he got it, for he said no more about his head, or +about sleep. He did glance frequently out of the tail of his eye at +Luck's absorbed face with his jaw set at a determined angle and his great +mop of iron-gray hair looking like a heavy field of grain after a +thunderstorm, standing out as it did in every direction. Now and then +Luck pushed it back impatiently with the flat of his palm, but he showed +no other sign of being conscious of anything at all save the picture; +though he could have told you offhand just how many times Bill turned +his eyes upon him. + +At noon they were not through, and to Bill the attempt to finish that day +seemed hopeless, not to say insane. But by four o'clock they were done +with the cutting and joining, and had their film carefully packed and in +the mountain wagon, and were ready to drive through the slushy mud which +was the aftermath of the blizzard to the little house in Albuquerque +which the boys had turned into a crude but efficient laboratory. + +There Luck continued to be merciless in his driving energy. He canvassed +the moving-picture theaters of the town and borrowed reels on which to +wind his film when it was once ready for winding. He went back to the +little house and set every one within it to work and kept them at it. He +printed his positive, dissolved his aniline dye, which was to be +firelight effect, in the bathtub,--and I should like to know what the +landlord thought when next he viewed that tub! He made an orange bath for +sunrise effects in one of the stationary tubs, and his light blue for +night tints in the other. He buzzed around in that little house like a +disturbed blue-bottle fly that cannot find an open window. He had his +sleeves rolled to his shoulders and his hair more tousled than ever; he +had blue circles under his eyes and dabs of dye distributed here and +there on his face and his arms; he had in his eyes the glitter of a man +who means to be obeyed instantly and implicitly, whatever his command may +be,--and if you want to know, he was obeyed in just that manner. + +Happy Jack and Big Medicine took turns at the crank of the big drying +drum, around which Andy and Weary had carefully wound the wet film. Being +a crude, home-made affair, the crank that kept that drum turning over and +over did not work with the ease of ball-bearings. But Happy Jack, rolling +his eyes up at Luck when he hurried past to attend to something +somewhere, did not venture his opinion of the task. Nor did Big Medicine +bellow any facetious remarks whatever, but turned and sweated, and used +the other hand awhile, and turned and turned, and goggled at Luck +whenever Luck came within his range of vision, and changed off to the +other hand and turned and turned, and still said nothing at all. + +Bill Holmes went to sleep about midnight and came near ruining a batch of +firelight scenes in the analine bath, and after that Luck did all the +technical part of the work himself. The Happy Family did what they could +and wished they were not so ignorant and could do more. They could not, +for instance, help Luck in the final assembling of the polished film and +the putting in of the sub-titles and inserts. But they could polish that +film, after he showed them how; so Pink and Weary did that. And at +daylight Luck shook Bill Holmes awake and set him to work again. + +Just to show that Luck was human, even though he was obsessed by a frenzy +of work, he sent the boys outside, whenever one of them could be spared, +for the smoke they craved and could not have among that five thousand +feet of precious but highly inflammable film. But he did not treat +himself to the luxury of a cigarette. + +Luck had not yet solved the problem of meeting the expense of the trip +to El Paso. Riding down with a pack-horse would take him too long; the +best he could do would not be quick enough; for the Convention would be +over before he got there, and his trip therefore useless. He worked +just as fast, however, as though he had only to buy his ticket and take +the train. + +And then, when the last drumful was drying, he got his idea, and took +Andy by the shoulder and led him out into the little front hall. "Boy," +he said, "you hook up the team and drive like hell out to the ranch and +get the camera and all the lenses. And right under the lid of my trunk +you'll find a letter file marked Receipts. In the C pocket you'll find +the sales slips of camera and so on; you bring them along. And bring my +bag and any clean socks and handkerchiefs you can find, and my gray suit +and some collars and ties. Oh, and my shoes. Make it back here by two +o'clock if you can; before three at the latest." + +"You bet yuh," assented Andy just as cheerfully as though he saw some +sense in the order. Luck's clothes were a reasonable request, but Andy +could not, for the life of him, figure any use for the camera and lenses; +and as for the receipts, that sounded to him like plain delirium. Andy's +brain, at that time, seemed to be revolving slowly round and round like +the big drying drum, and his thoughts were tangled in exasperating +visions of long, narrow strips of wet film. + +However, at two-thirty he drove smartly up to the little house with the +camera and Luck's brown leather bag packed with the small necessities of +highly civilized journeying, and a large flat package wrapped in old +newspapers. He had not set the brake that signalled the sweating horses +to stop, before Luck was in the doorway with his hat on his head and the +air of one whose business is both urgent and of large issues. + +"Got the receipts? All right! Where are the things? This the lenses? All +right! Put the team in the stable and go get yourself some rest." + +"Where's your rest coming in at?" Andy flung back over his shoulder, as +Luck turned away with the camera on his shoulder and the small case in +his hands. + +"Mine will come when I get through. I've got the last reel wound and +packed, though. You bed down somewhere and sleep. I'll be back in a +little. I'm going to catch that four o'clock train." + +When you consider that Luck made that statement with about fifteen cents +in his pocket and no ticket, you will understand why Andy gave him that +queer look as he drove off to the stable. Luck might have climbed up +beside Andy and ridden part of the way, but he was too preoccupied with +larger matters to think of it until he found himself picking his footing +around the mud through which Andy had splashed in comfort. + +At the bank, Luck went in at the side door which gave easy access to the +office behind; and without any ceremony whatever he tapped on a certain +glass-paneled door with a name printed across. He waited a second, and +then turned the knob and walked briskly in, carrying camera, tripod, and +the case of small attachments, and smiling his smile of white teeth and +perfect assurance and much good will. + +Now, the cashier whom he faced was a tall man worn thin with the worries +of his position and the care of a family. He lived in a large white +house, and his wife never seemed able to find a cook who could cook; so +the cashier was troubled with indigestion that made his manner one of +passive irritation with life. His children were for some reason forever +"coming down" with colds or whooping-cough or measles or something (you +have seen children like that), so his eyes were always tired with wakeful +nights. It needed a Luck Lindsay smile to bring any answering light into +the harassed face of that cashier, but it got there after the first +surprised glance. + +Luck stood his camera--screwed to its tripod--against the wall by the +door. "I'm Luck Lindsay, Mr. White," he announced in his easy, Texas +drawl. "I'm in a hurry, so I'll omit my full autobiography, if you don't +mind, and let you draw your own conclusions about my reputation and +character. I've a five-reel feature film called _The Phantom Herd_ just +completed, and I want to take it down to El Paso and show it before the +Texas Cattlemen's Convention which meets there to-day. I want their +endorsement of it as a Western film which really portrays the West, to +incorporate in my advertisements in all the trade journals. But the +production of the film took my last cent, and I've got to raise money on +my camera for the trip down there. You see what I mean. I'm broke, and +I've got to catch that four o'clock train or the whole thing stops right +here. This camera cost me close to fifteen hundred dollars. Here are the +receipted sales slips to prove it. In Los Angeles I could easily get--" +He caught the beginning of a denial in Mr. White's sidewise movement of +the head--"ten times as much money on it as you can give me. You probably +don't know anything at all about motion-picture cameras, but you can read +these slips and find out how prices run." + +Mr. White had in a measure recovered from the effects of Luck's smile. He +picked up the slips and glanced at them indifferently. "There's a +pawn-shop just down the street, I believe," he said. "Why--" + +"I want to leave this camera here with you, anyway," Luck interrupted. +"It's valuable--too valuable to take any risk of fire or burglary. I +want to leave it in your vault. You've handled a good deal of my money, +and you know who I am, and what my standing is, or else you aren't the +right man for the position you occupy. It's your business to know these +things. Now, I'm not asking you for any big loan. All I want is expense +money for that trip. If you'll advance me seventy-five or a hundred +dollars on my note, with this camera as security, I'll thank you and +romp down to El Paso and get that endorsement before the convention +adjourns till next year." + +Mr. White looked at the camera strangely, as though he half expected it +to explode. "I should have to take it up with the directors--" + +"Directors! Hell, man, that train's due in an hour! What _are_ you +around here--a man in authority, or just a dummy made up to look like +one? Do you mean to tell me you're afraid to stake me to enough money to +make El Paso and return? What, for the Lord's sake, do I look like, +anyway,--a crook?" + +Mr. White's head was more than six feet in the air when he stood up, and +Luck Lindsay in his high-heeled boots lacked a good six inches of that +altitude; but for all that, Luck Lindsay was a bigger man than Mr. +White. He dominated the cashier; he made the cashier conscious of his +dyspepsia and his thin hair and his flabby muscles and his lack of +enthusiasm with life. + +"The directors have to pass on all bank loans," he explained +apologetically, "but I can lend you the money out of my personal account. +If you will excuse me, I'll get the money before my assistant closes the +vault. And shall I put these inside for you?" He rose and started for the +inner door with a deprecating smile. + +"Aren't you going to take a note?" Luck studied the man with +sharpened glance. + +"My check will be a sufficient record of the transaction, I think." And +Mr. White, with two or three words scribbled at the bottom, proceeded to +make the check a record. "I am glad to be able to stake you, Mr. Lindsay, +and I hope your trip will be successful." + +He got another Luck Lindsay smile for that, and the apology he had coming +to him. And then in a very few minutes Luck hurried out and back to the +little house on the edge of town. + +"Where's my bag? So long, boys; I'm going to drift. I'll change clothes +on the train--haven't got time now. Here's five dollars, Andy, for the +stable bill and so on. Bill, you're the only one of the bunch that +shirked, so you can carry this box of reels to the depot for me. _Adios_, +boys, I'm sure going to romp all over that Convention, believe me, if +they don't swear _The Phantom Herd's_ a winner from the first scene!" + + + + +CHAPTER NINETEEN + +WHEREIN LUCK MAKES A SPEECH + + +Luck stood on the platform of the Texas Cattlemen's Convention and looked +down upon the work-lined, brown faces of the men whose lives had for the +most part been spent out of doors. Their sober attentiveness confused him +for a minute so that he forgot what he wanted to say--he, Luck Lindsay, +who had faced the great audiences of Madison Square Garden and had smiled +his endearing smile and made his bow with perfect poise and an eye for +pretty faces; who had without a quiver faced the camera, many's the time, +in difficult scenes; who had faced death more times than he could count, +and what was to him worse than death,--blank failure. But these old +range-men with the wind-and-sun wrinkles around their eyes, and their +ready-to-wear suits, and their judicial air of sober attention,--these +were to him the jury that would weigh his work and say whether it was +worthy. These men-- + +And then one of them suddenly cleared his throat with a rasping sound +like old Dave Wiswell, his dried little cowman of the picture, and +embarrassment dropped from Luck like a cloak flung aside. He was here to +put his work to the test; to let these men say whether _The Phantom Herd_ +was worthy to be called a great picture, one of which the West could be +proud. So he pushed back his mop of hair--grayer than the hair of many +here old enough to be his father--with the fiat of his palm, and looked +straight into the faces of these men and said what he had to say: + +"Mr. Chairman, and gentlemen of this Convention, I consider it a great +privilege to be able to stand here and speak to you--a greater privilege +than any of you realize, perhaps. For my heart has always been in the +range-land, my people have been the people of the plains. I have to-day +been honored by the hand-grip of old-timers who were riding circle, +trailing long-horns, and working cattle when I was a boy in short pants. + +"I have trailed herds on the pay roll of one man who remembers me here +to-day, and of others who have crossed the Big Divide. I have seen the +open range shrink before the coming of barbed wire and settlers. I have +watched the 'long shadow' fall across God's own cattle country. + +"Since I entered the motion-picture business, my one great aim and my one +great dream has been to produce one real Western picture. One picture +that I could present with pride to such a convention as this, and have +men who have spent their lives in the cattle industry give it the stamp +of their approval; one picture that would make such men forget the +present and relive the old days when they were punchers all and proud of +it. Such an opportunity came to me last fall and I made the most of it. I +got me a bunch of real boys, and went to work on the picture I have +called _The Phantom Herd._ From the trail-herds going north I have tried +to weave into my story a glimpse of the whole history of the range +critter, from the shivering, new-born calf that hit the range along with +a spring blizzard, to the big, four-year-old steer prodded up the chutes +into the shipping cars. + +"I want you, who know the false from the real, to see _The Phantom Herd_ +and say whether I have done my work well. I finished the picture +yesterday, and I have brought it down here for the purpose of asking you +to honor me by accepting an invitation to a private showing of the +picture this evening, here in this hall. I want you to come and bring +your wives and your children with you if you can. I want you to see _The +Phantom Herd_ before it goes to the public--and to-morrow I shall face +you again and accept your verdict. You know the West. You will know a +Western picture when you see it. I know you know, and I want you to tell +me what you think of it. Your word will be final, as far as I am +concerned. Gentlemen, I hope you will all be present here to-night at +eight o'clock as my guests. I thank you for your attention." + +Luck went away from there feeling, and telling himself emphatically, that +he had made a "rotten" talk. He had not said what he had meant to say, or +at least he had not said it the way he had meant to say it. But he was +too busy to dwell much upon his deficiencies as an orator; he had yet to +borrow a projection machine and operator from somewhere--for, as usual, +he had issued his invitation before he had definitely arranged for the +exhibition, and had trusted to luck and his own efforts to be able to +keep his promise. + +Luck (or his own efforts) landed him within easy conversational reach of +a man who was preparing to open a little theater on a side street. The +seats were not in yet, but he had his machine, and he meant to operate it +himself, while his wife sold tickets and his boy acted as usher,--a +family combination which to Luck seemed likely to be a success. This man, +when Luck made known his needs, said he was perfectly willing to "limber +up" his machine and himself on _The Phantom Herd_, if Luck would let his +wife and boy see the picture, and would pay the slight operating +expenses. So that was settled very easily. + +At five minutes to eight that evening all of the cattlemen and a few +favored, influential citizens of El Paso whom Luck had invited personally +sat waiting before the blank screen. Up in the operator's cramped +quarters Luck was having a nervous chill and trying his best not to show +it, and he was telling the operator to give it time enough, for the +Lord's sake, and to be sure he had everything ready before he started in, +and so forth, until the operator was almost as nervous as Luck himself. + +"Now, look here," he cried exasperatedly at last. "You know your +business, and I know mine. You're going to have me named in your +write-ups as the movie-man that run this show for the convention, ain't +you? And I'm going to open up a picture house next week in this town, +ain't I? And I ain't going to advertise myself as a bum operator, am I? +Now you _vamos_ outa here and get down there in the audience, if you +don't want me to get the fidgets and spoil something. Go on--beat it!" + +Luck must have been in a strange condition, for he beat it promptly and +without any retort, and slid furtively into a chair between two old +range-men just as the operator's boy-usher switched off the lights. +Luck's heart began to pound so that he half expected his neighbors to +tell him to close his muffler,--only they were of the saddle-horse +fraternity and would not have known what the phrase meant. + +_The Phantom Herd_ flashed suddenly upon the screen and joggled there +dizzily, away over to one side. Luck clapped his hand to his perspiring +forehead and murmured "Oh, my Gawd!" like a prayer, and shut his eyes to +hide from them the desecration. He opened them to find that the caste was +just flicking off and the first scene dissolving in. + +The man at his left gave a long sigh and crossed his knees, and leaned +back and began to chew tobacco rapidly between his worn old molars. + +_"Oh, a ten dollar hoss and a forty dollar saddle, +I'm goin' to punchin' Texas cattle."_ + +The sub-title dissolved slowly into a scene showing a cow-puncher (who +was Weary) swinging on to his rangy cow-Horse and galloping away after +the chuck-wagon just disappearing in the wake of the dust-flinging +_remuda_. Back somewhere in the dusk of the audience, a man began to hum +the tune that went with the words, and the heart of Luck Lindsay gave an +exultant bound. He had used lines from "The Old Chisholm Trail" and other +old-time range songs for his sub-titles, to keep the range atmosphere +complete, and that cracked voice humming unconsciously told how it +appealed to these men of the range. + +Luck did not slide down in his seat so that his head rested on the +chair-back while _The Phantom Herd_ was being shown. Instead, he sat +leaning forward, with his face white and strained, and watched for weak +points and for bad photography and scenes that could have been bettered. + +He saw the big trail-herd go winding away across the level, with Weary +riding "point" and Happy Jack bringing up the "drag," and the others +scattered along between; riding slouched in their saddles, hatbrims +pulled low over eyes smarting with the dust that showed in a thin film at +the head of the herd and grew thicker toward the drag, until riders and +animals were seen dimly through a haze. + +"My--I can just feel that dust in m' throat!" muttered the man at his +right, and coughed. + +Luck saw the storm come muttering up just as the cattle were bedding down +for the night. He saw the lightning, and he knew that those who watched +with him were straining forward. He heard some one say involuntarily: +"They'll break and run, sure as hell!" and he knew that he had done that +part of his work well. + +He saw the night scenes he had taken in town. He almost forgot that all +this was his work, so smoothly did the story steal across his senses and +beguile him into half believing it was true and not a fabric which he had +built with careful planning and much toil. He saw the round-up scenes; +the day-herd, the cutting-out and the branding, the beef-herd driven to +the shipping cars. True, those steers were not exactly prime beef,--he +had caught the culls only, late in the season for these scenes--but they +passed, with one audible comment that this was a poor season for beef! + +"We rounded 'em up and we put 'em in the cars--" + +The sub-title sang itself familiarly into the minds of the range men. +More than one voice was heard to begin a surreptitious humming of the +old tune, and to cease abruptly with the sudden self-consciousness of +the singer. + +But there was the story, growing insensibly out of the range work. Luck, +more at ease now in his mind, studied it critically. There was the +quarrel between old Dave and Andy, his son. He saw the old man out with +his men, standing his shift of night-guard, stubbornly resisting the +creeping years and his load of trouble; riding around the sleeping herd +with his head sunk on his chest, meeting the younger guard twice on each +complete circle, and yet never seeming to see him at all. + +"Sing low to your cattle, sing low to your steers--" + +The words and the scene opened wide the door of memory and let whole +troops of ghosts come drifting in out of the past. The hall, Luck roused +himself to notice, was very, very still; so still that the sizzling sound +of the machine at the rear was distinct and oppressive. + +There was the blizzard, terrible in its biting realism. There was the old +cow and calf, separated from the herd, fighting in the primal instinct to +preserve themselves alive,--fighting and losing. There was that other, +more terrible fight for existence, the fight of the Native Son against +the snow and the cold. Men drew their breath sharply when he fell and did +not rise again. They shivered when the snow began to drift against his +quiet body, to lodge and shift and settle, and grow higher and higher +until the bank was even with his shoulders, to drift over him and make of +him a white mound--And then, when Andy staggered up through the swirl, +leading his horse and shouting; when he stumbled against Miguel and tried +to raise him and rouse him, a sound like a groan went through the crowd. + +"Close a call as I ever had was in a blizzard like that," the old man at +Luck's left whispered agitatedly to Luck behind his palm, when the lights +snapped on while the operator was changing for the last reel. + +There was Andy, haunted and haggard, at home again with his father. There +were those dissolve scenes of the "phantom herd" drifting always across +the skyline whenever Andy looked out into the night or rose startled +from uneasy sleep. Weird, it was,--weird and real and very terrible. And, +at last, there was that wonderful camp-fire scene of the Indian girl who +prayed to her gods before she went to meet her lover who was dead and +could not keep the tryst. There were heart-breaking scenes where the +Indian girl wandered in wild places, looking, hoping, despairing--Luck +had planned every little detail of those scenes, and yet they thrilled +him as though he had come to them unawares. + +He did not wait after the last scene faded out slowly. He slipped quietly +into the aisle and went away, while the hands of the old-timers were +stinging with applause. Halfway down the block he heard it still, and his +steps quickened unconsciously. They were calling his name, back there in +the hall. They were all talking at once and clapping their hands and, as +an interlude, shouting the name of Luck Lindsay. But Luck did not heed. +He wanted to get away by himself. He did not feel as though he could say +anything at all to any one, just then. He had seen his Big Picture, and +he had seen that it was as big and as perfect, almost, as he had dreamed +it. To Luck, at that moment, words would have cheapened it,--even the +words of the old cattlemen. + +He went to his hotel and straight up to his room, regardless of the fact +that it would have been to his advantage to mingle with his guests and to +listen to their praise. He went to bed and lay there in the dark, +reliving the scenes of his story. Then, after awhile, he drifted off into +sleep, his first dreamless, untroubled slumber in many a night. + +By the time the Convention was assembled the next day, however, he had +recovered his old spirit of driving energy. The chairman had invited him +by telephone to attend the afternoon meeting, and Luck went--to be +greeted by a rousing applause when he walked down the aisle to the +platform where the chairman was waiting for him. + +Resolutions had already been passed, the Convention as a body thanking +Luck Lindsay for the privilege of seeing what was in their judgment the +greatest Western picture that had ever been produced. The chairman made a +little speech about the pleasure and the privilege, and presented Luck +with a letter of endorsement and signed with due formality by chairman +and secretary and sealed with the official seal. Attached to the letter +was a copy of the vote of thanks, and you may imagine how Luck smiled +when he saw that! + +He stayed a little while, and during the recess which presently was +called he shook hands with many an old-timer whose name stood for a good +deal in the great State of Texas. Then he left them, still smiling over +what he called his good luck, and wired a copy of the letter of +endorsement to all the trade journals, to be incorporated in his +full-page advertising. By another stroke of luck he caught most of the +trade journals before their forms closed for the next issue, so that _The +Phantom Herd_ was speedily heralded throughout the profession as the +first really authentic Western drama ever produced. By still another +stroke of what he called luck, an Associated Press man found him out, and +was pleased to ask him many questions and to make a few notes; and Luck, +wise to the value of publicity, answered the questions and saw to it that +the notes recorded interesting facts. + +That evening Luck, feeling that he had reached the last mile-post on the +road to success, hunted up a few old-timers who appealed to him most as +true types of the range, and gave them a dinner in a certain place which +he knew was run by an old round-up cook. There was nothing about that +dinner which would have appealed to a cabaret crowd. They talked of the +old days when Luck was a lad, those old-timers; they talked of +trail-herds and of droughts and of floods and blizzards and range wars +and the market prices of beef "on the hoof." They called in the old +round-up cook and cursed him companionably as one of themselves, and +remembered that more than one of them had run when he pounded the bottom +of a frying pan and hollered "Come and get it!" They ate and they smoked +and they talked and talked and talked, until Luck had to indulge himself +in a taxi if he would not miss the eleven o'clock train north. His only +regret, in spite of the fact that he was practically and familiarly broke +again, was that circumstances did not permit the Happy Family to sit with +him at that table. Especially did he regret not having old Applehead and +the dried little man with him that night to make his gathering complete. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY + +"SHE'S SHAPING UP LIKE A BANK ROLL" + + +"Well," said Luck to the Happy Family, "we've come this far along the +trail, and now I'm stuck again. Bank won't loan any more on the camera, +and I've got a dollar and six bits to market _The Phantom Herd_ with! +Everything's fine so far; she's advertised,--or will be when the +magazines come out,--and she's got some good press notices to back her +up; but she ain't outa the woods yet. I've got to raise some money +somehow. I hate to ask poor old Applehead--" + +"Pore old Applehead, my granny!" bawled Big Medicine, laughing his big +_haw-haw._ "Pore ole Applehead's sure steppin' high these days. He'd +mortgage his ranch and feel like a millionaire, by cripes! His ole +Come-Paddy cat jest natcherally walloped the tar outa Shunky Cheestely, +and Applehead seen him doin' it. Come-Paddy, he's hangin' out in the +house now, by cripes, 'cept when he takes a sashay down to the stable +lookin' fer more. And Shunky, he's bedded down under the Ketch-all, when +he ain't hittin' fer the tall timber with his tail clamped down between +his legs. Honest to grandma, Luck, you couldn't hit Applehead at a better +time. He'll borry money er do anything yuh care to ask, except shut up +that there cat uh hisn." + +"Well, luck may come my way; I'll just sit tight a few days and see," +said Luck. "When that positive film comes, I'll have to rustle money +somewhere to get it outa the express office, so we can make more +prints. And--" + +"And grind our daylights out again on that there drum that never does git +wound up?" groaned Big Medicine, and felt his biceps tenderly. + +"We won't rush the next job quite so hard," Luck soothed, perfectly +amiable and easy to live with, now that the worst was over. "We made a +darn good set of prints, just the same; boys, you oughta seen that +picture! I've a good mind to get some house here in town to run it; say, +I might raise some money that way, if I can't do it any other." And then +his enthusiasm cooled. "Town isn't big enough for a long-enough run," he +considered disgustedly. "I'm past the two-bit stage of the game now." + +"Well, you ask Applehead to raise the money," advised Weary. "Or one of +us will write to Chip for some. Mamma! The world's full of money! Seems +like it ought to be easy to get hold of some." + +"It is--but it ain't," Luck stated somewhat ambiguously, and turned the +talk to his meeting with the old-timers, and prepared to "sit tight" and +wait for his god Good Luck to smile upon him. + +The smile arrived at noon the next day, in the form of a wire from +Philadelphia. Luck read it and gave a whoop of joy quite at variance with +his usual surface calm. + +Can Offer You Fifteen Hundred Dollars for Pennsylvania Rights The +Phantom Herd Usual Ten Cents Per Foot Positive Prints if Accepted Wire at +Once and Ship to This Point + +RJ Crittenden + +"I hollered too soon," groaned Luck, when he had read it the second time, +pushing back his hair distractedly. "How the devil am I going to send him +any positive prints at ten cents a foot or ten cents an inch or any other +price? Till I get that shipment of positive, I can't fill any orders at +all! And until I begin to fill orders, I can't realize on the film. Can +you beat that? I'll have to wire him to wait, and that's two thousand +dollars tied up!" + +"Aw, gwan!" Happy Jack croaked argumentatively. "Why don't you send him +what you took to the Convention?" + +Luck stared at Happy stupefied before he said a word. "Say, Miguel, you +saddle your ridge-runner while I get ready to take this wire hack to +town and send it off," he snapped, preparing to write. "Sure, I'll send +that set of prints! Happy, you can go to the head of the class. Now +it's only a case of sit tight till the money comes. The prints are +packed and in the bank vault, so I'll just get them out and send them +C.O.D. to Mr. Crittenden, along with the states rights contract. How's +that for luck, boys?" + +"Pretty good--for Luck," grinned Andy meaningly. "Fly at it, you coming +millionaire!" + +"Just a case of sit tight, boys. _Adios!"_ cried Luck jubilantly as he +hurried away. + +Once start along a smooth trail, and everything seems to conspire toward +a pleasant trip. To prove it, Luck found another telegram waiting for him +in Albuquerque. This was from Martinson, and might be interpreted as an +apology more or less abject. Certainly it was an urgent request that he +return immediately to Los Angeles and to his old place at the Acme, and +produce Western pictures under no supervision whatever. + +Luck gave a little chuckle when he pocketed that message, but he did not +send any answer. He meant to wait and talk it over with the boys first. +"Better proposition than before," Martinson said. Well, perhaps it would +be best to look into it; Luck was too experienced to believe that one +success means permanent success; there are too many risks for the free +lance to run when a single failure means financial annihilation. If the +Acme would come to his terms, it might be to his advantage to take his +boys back and accept this peace-offering. At any rate, he appreciated to +the full the triumph they had scored. + +Next, by some twist of the red tape in the Philadelphia express +office,--or perhaps R.J. Crittenden was a good fellow and asked them to +do it,--the two thousand dollars came by wire, just three days after Luck +had received notice that his shipment of positive film was being held for +him at the express office in Albuquerque. Also came other offers, mostly +by wire, for states rights to _The Phantom Herd._ And when the Happy +Family realized what those offers meant, they didn't care how hard or how +long Luck worked them in the little house which he had turned into a +laboratory. + +Being human, intensely so in some ways, the first set of prints they +turned out Luck sent to Los Angeles with a mental godspeed and a hope +that Bently Brown and Martinson would see it and "get wise to what a +_real_ Western picture looked like." There were other orders ahead of Los +Angeles in Luck's book, but they waited a little longer so that he might +the sooner taste a little of the sweets of revenge. + +Whether Bently Brown and Martinson saw _The Phantom Herd,_ Luck was a +long, long time finding out. But he learned that some one else did see +it, and that right speedily. For among his many telegrams that came +clicking into Albuquerque was this one which makes a fitting end to +this story: + +Luck Lindsay +Albuquerque +New Mexico + +Congratulations on _The Phantom Herd_ Wonderful Production New +Proposition You to Produce Western Features with Your Present Company on +Straight Salary and Bonus Basis Miss Jean Douglas to Play Your Leads if I +Can Sign Her up Can You Come Here at Once to Close Deal Answer + +Dewitt + +"All right, boys, you can run and play." Luck handed them the telegram, +looked at his watch, and began to roll down his sleeves. "I'll catch the +next train for 'Los' and see Dewitt,--don't take any studying to know +that's the thing to do,--and if you'll pack all this negative, Bill, I'll +take that along and hire the rest of the prints made. Andy, you're riding +herd on this bunch while I'm gone. Just hold yourselves ready for orders, +because I don't know how things will shape up. But believe me, boys, +she's shaping up like a bank-roll!" + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM HERD*** + + +******* This file should be named 12663-8.txt or 12663-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/6/6/12663 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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M. Bower +</title> + +<style> + +body { color: black; + background: white; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +p {text-indent: 1.5em } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +p.t3b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +p.t4b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 60%; + text-align: center } + +h1 { text-align: center } +h2 { text-align: center } +h3 { text-align: center } +h4 { text-align: center } +h5 { text-align: center } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; + letter-spacing: 4em ; + text-align: center } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +.smcap { font-variant: small-caps } + +p.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.intro {font-size: 90% ; + text-indent: -5% ; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.quote {text-indent: 4% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.report {text-indent: 4% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.report2 {text-indent: 4% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<p> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Phantom Herd, by B. M. Bower +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p> +Title: The Phantom Herd +</p> + +<p> +Author: B. M. Bower +</p> + +<p> +Release Date: June 19, 2004 [eBook #12663] +</p> + +<p> +Language: English +</p> + +<p> +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM HERD*** +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Project Gutenberg Beginners Projects, +Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team +</p> + +<h1> +<br><br> +THE PHANTOM HERD +</h1> + +<p class="t2"> +BY B. M. BOWER +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +Author of Chip of the Flying-U, The Flying-U's Last Stand,<br> +The Gringos, etc. +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +1916 +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +FOREWORD +</p> + +<p> +For the accuracy of certain parts of this story which deal most +intimately with the business of making motion pictures, I am indebted to +Buck Connor. whose name is a sufficient guarantee that all technical +points are correct. His criticism, advice and other assistance have been +invaluable, and I take this opportunity of expressing my appreciation and +thanks for the help he has given me. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +B.M.BOWER. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +CONTENTS +</p> + +<p><br><p> + +<p class="noindent"> +CHAPTER +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + I <a href="#chap01">THE INDIANS MUST GO</a><br> +<br> + II "<a href="#chap02">WHERE THE CATTLE ROAMED IN THOUSANDS, A-MANY A HERD AND BRAND..."</a><br> +<br> + III <a href="#chap03">AND THEY SIGH FOR THE DAYS THAT ARE GONE</a><br> +<br> + IV <a href="#chap04">THE LITTLE DOCTOR PROTESTS</a><br> +<br> + V <a href="#chap05">A BUNCH OF ONE-REELERS FROM BENTLY BROWN</a><br> +<br> + VI <a href="#chap06">VILLAINS ALL AND PROUD OF IT</a><br> +<br> + VII <a href="#chap07">BENTLY BROWN DOES NOT APPRECIATE COMEDY</a><br> +<br> + VIII <a href="#chap08">"THERE'S GOT TO BE A LINE DRAWN SOMEWHERES"</a><br> +<br> + IX <a href="#chap09">LEAVE IT TO THE BUNCH</a><br> +<br> + X <a href="#chap10">UNEXPECTED GUESTS FOR APPLEHEAD</a><br> +<br> + XI <a href="#chap11">JUST A FEW UNFORESEEN OBSTACLES</a><br> +<br> + XII <a href="#chap12">"I THINK YOU NEED INDIAN GIRL FOR PICTURE"</a><br> +<br> + XIII <a href="#chap13">"PAM. BLEAK MESA—CATTLE DRIFTING BEFORE WIND—"</a><br> +<br> + XIV <a href="#chap14">"PLUMB SPOILED, D'YUH MEAN?"</a><br> +<br> + XV <a href="#chap15">A LETTER FROM CHIEF BIG TURKEY</a><br> +<br> + XVI <a href="#chap16">"THE CHANCES IS SLIM AND GITTIN' SLIMMER"</a><br> +<br> + XVII <a href="#chap17">THE STORM</a><br> +<br> + XVIII <a href="#chap18">A FEW OF THE MINOR DIFFICULTIES</a><br> +<br> + XIX <a href="#chap19">WHEREIN LUCK MAKES A SPEECH</a><br> +<br> + XX <a href="#chap20">"SHE'S SHAPING UP LIKE A BANK ROLL"</a><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER ONE +<br><br> +THE INDIANS MUST GO +</h3> + +<p> +Luck Lindsay had convoyed his thirty-five actor-Indians to their +reservation at Pine Ridge, and had turned them over to the agent in good +condition and a fine humor and nice new hair hatbands and other fixings; +while their pockets were heavy with dollars that you may be sure would +not he spent very wisely. He had shaken hands with the braves, and had +promised to let them know when there was another job in sight, and to +speak a good word for them to other motion-picture companies who might +want to hire real Indians. He had smiled at the fat old squaws who had +waddled docilely in and out of the scenes and teetered tirelessly round +and round in their queer native dances in the hot sun at his behest, when +Luck wanted several rehearsals of "atmosphere" scenes before turning the +camera on them. +</p> + +<p> +They hated to go back to the tame life of the reservation and to +stringing beads and sewing buckskin with sinew, and to gossiping among +themselves of things their heavy-lidded black eyes had looked upon with +such seeming apathy. They had given Luck an elaborately beaded buckskin +vest that would photograph beautifully, and three pairs of heavy, beaded +moccasins which he most solemnly assured them he would wear in his next +picture. The smoke-smell of their tepee fires and perfumes still clung +heavily to the Indian-tanned buckskin, so that Luck carried away with +him an aroma indescribable and unmistakable to any one who has ever +smelled it. +</p> + +<p> +Just when he was leaving, a shy, big-eyed girl of ten had slid out from +the shelter of her mother's poppy-patterned skirt, had proffered three +strings of beads, and had fled. Luck had smiled his smile again—a smile +of white, even teeth and so much good will that you immediately felt that +he was your friend—and called her back to him. Luck was chief; and his +commands were to be obeyed, instantly and implicitly; that much he had +impressed deeply upon the least of these. While the squaws grinned and +murmured Indian words to one another, the big-eye girl returned +reluctantly; and Luck, dropping a hand to his coat pocket while he smiled +reassurance, emptied that pocket of gum for her. His smile had lingered +after he turned away; for like flies to an open syrup can the papooses +had gathered around the girl. +</p> + +<p> +Well, that job was done, and done well. Every one was satisfied save Luck +himself. He swung up to the back of the Indian pony that would carry him +through the Bad Lands to the railroad, and turned for a last look. The +bucks stood hip-shot and with their arms folded, watching him gravely. +The squaws pushed straggling locks from their eyes that they might watch +him also. The papooses were chewing gum and staring at him solemnly. Old +Mrs. Ghost-Dog, she of the ponderous form and plaid blanket that Luck had +used with such good effect in the foreground of his atmosphere scenes, +lifted up her voice suddenly, and wailed after him in high-keyed lament +that she would see his face no more; and Luck felt a sudden contraction +of the throat while he waved his hand to them and rode away. +</p> + +<p> +Well, now he must go on to the next job, which he hoped would be more +pleasant than this one had been. Luck hated to give up those Indians. He +liked them, and they liked him,—though that was not the point. He had +done good work with them. When he directed the scenes, those Indians did +just what he wanted, and just the way he wanted it done; Luck was too old +a director not to know the full value of such workers. +</p> + +<p> +But the Acme Film Company, caught with the rest of the world in the +pressure of hard times, wanted to economize. The manager had pointed out +to Luck, during the course of an evening's discussion, that these Indians +were luxuries in the making of pictures, and must be taken off the +payroll for the good of the dividends. The manager had contended that +white men and women, properly made up, could play the part of Indians +where Indians were needed; whereas Indians could never be made to play +the part of white men and women. Therefore, since white men and women +were absolutely necessary. Why keep a bunch of Indians around eating up +profits? The manager had sense on his side, of course. Other companies +were making Indian pictures occasionally with not a real Indian within +miles of the camera, but Luck Lindsay groaned inwardly, and cursed the +necessity of economizing. For Luck had one idol, and that idol was +realism. When the scenario called for twenty or thirty Indians, Luck +wanted <i>Indians</i>,—real, smoke-tanned, blanketed bucks and squaws and +papooses; not made-up whites who looked like animated signs for cigar +stores and acted like,—well, never mind what Luck said they acted like. +</p> + +<p> +"I can take the Injuns back," he conceded, "and worry along somehow +without them. But if you want me to put on any more Western stuff, you'll +have to let me weed out some of these Main Street cowboys that Clements +wished on to me, and go out in the sagebrush and round up some that +ain't all hair hatbands and high-heeled boots and bluff. I've got to have +some whites to fill the foreground, if I give up the Injuns; or else I +quit Western stuff altogether. I've been stalling along and keeping the +best of the bucks in the foreground, and letting these said riders lope +in and out of scenes and pile off and go to shooting soon as the camera +picks them up, but with the Injuns gone, the whites won't get by. +</p> + +<p> +"Maybe you have noticed that when there was any real riding, I've had the +Injuns do it. And do you think I've been driving that stagecoach +hell-bent from here to beyond because I'd no other way to kill time? +Wasn't another darned man in the outfit I'd trust, that's why. If I take +the Indians back, I've got to have some real boys." Luck's voice was +plaintive, and a little bit desperate. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, dammit, <i>have</i> your real boys! I never said you shouldn't. Weed +out the company to suit yourself. You'll have to take the Injuns back; +nobody else can handle the touch-me-not devils. You can lay off the +company if you want to, and while you're up there pick up a bunch of +cowboys to suit you. You're making good, Luck; don't take it that I'm +criticizing anything you've done or the way you did it. You've been +turning out the best Western stuff that goes on the screen; anybody knows +that. That isn't the point. We just simply can't afford to keep those +Indians any longer without retrenching on something else that's a lot +more vital. You know what they cost as well as I do; you know what +present conditions are. Figure it out for yourself." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't have to," Luck retorted in a worried tone. "I know what we're up +against. I know we ought to give them up—but I sure hate to do it! +Lor-<i>dee</i>, but I can do things with that bunch! Remember Red Brother?" +Luck was off on his hobby, the making of Indian pictures. "Remember the +panoram effect I got on that massacre of the wagon train? Remember the +council-of-war scene, and the close-up of Young-Dog-Howls-At-The-Moon +making his plea for the lives of the prisoners? And the war dance with +radium flares in the camp fires to give the light-effect? That film's in +big demand yet, they tell me. I'll never be able to put over stuff like +that with made-up actors, Martinson. You know I can't." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know; you're only just beginning to hit your gait, Luck," the +manager soothed. "You have turned out some big stuff,—some awful big +stuff; but at that you're just beginning to find yourself. Now, listen. +You can have your 'real boys' you're always crying for. I can see what +you mean when you pan these fellows you call Main Street cowboys. What +you better do is this: Close down the company for two weeks, say. Keep on +the ones you want, and let the rest out. And take these Injuns home, and +then get out after your riders. Numbers and salaries we'll leave to you. +Go as far as you like; it's a cinch you'll get what you want if you're +allowed to go after it." +</p> + +<p> +So here was Luck, arriving in due time at the railroad. He said good-by +to Young-Dog-Howls-At-The-Moon who had ridden with him, and whose kingly +bearing and clean-cut features and impressive pantomime made him a +popular screen-Indian, and sat down upon a baggage truck to smoke a +cigarette while he waited for the westbound train. +</p> + +<p> +Young-Dog-Howls-At-The-Moon he watched meditatively until that young man +had bobbed out of sight over a low hill, the pony Luck had ridden +trailing after at the end of the lead-rope. Luck's face was sober, his +eyes tired and unsmiling. He had done that much of his task: he had +returned the Indians, and automatically wiped a very large item of +expense from the accounts of the Acme Film Company. He did not like to +dwell, however, on the cost to his own pride in his work. +</p> + +<p> +The next job, now that he was actually face to face with it, looked not +so simple. He was in a country where, a few years before, his quest for +"real boys"—as he affectionately termed the type nearest his +heart—would have been easy enough. But before the marching ranks of +fence posts and barbed wire, the real boys had scattered. A more or less +beneficent government had not gathered them together, and held them apart +from the changing conditions, as it had done with the Indians. The real +boys had either left the country, or had sold their riding outfits and +gone into business in the little towns scattered hereabouts, or else they +had taken to farming the land where the big herds had grazed while the +real boys loafed on guard. +</p> + +<p> +Luck admitted to himself that in the past two years, even, conditions had +changed amazingly. Land was fenced that had been free. Even the +reservation was changed a little. He threw away that cigarette and +lighted another, and turned aggrievedly upon a dried little man who came +up with the open expectation of using the truck upon which Luck was +sitting uncomfortably. There was the squint of long looking against sun +and wind at a far skyline in the dried little man's face. There was a +certain bow in his legs, and there were various other signs which Luck +read instinctively as he got up. He smiled his smile, and the dried +little man grinned back companionably. +</p> + +<p> +"Say, old-timer, what's gone with all the cattle and all the punchers?" +Luck demanded with a mild querulousness. +</p> + +<p> +The dried little man straightened from the truck handles and regarded +Luck strangely. +</p> + +<p> +"My gorry, son, plumb hazed off'n this section the earth, I reckon. +Farmers and punchers, they don't mix no better'n sheep and cattle. Why, I +mind the time when—" +</p> + +<p> +The train was late, anyway, and the dried little man sat down on the +truck, and fumbled his cigarette book, and began to talk. Luck sat down +beside him and listened, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and +a cold cigarette in his fingers. It was not of this part of the country +that the dried little man talked, but of Montana, over there to the west. +Of northern Montana in the days when it was cowman's paradise; the days +when round-up wagons started out with the grass greening the hilltops, +and swung from the Rockies to the Bear Paws and beyond in the wide arc +that would cover their range; of the days of the Cross L and the Rocking +R and the Lazy Eight,—every one of them brand names to glisten the eyes +of old-time Montanans. +</p> + +<p> +"Where would you go to find them boys now?" the dried little man +questioned mournfully. "The Rocking R's gone into sheep, and the old boys +have all left. The Cross L moved up into Canada, Lord knows how they're +making out; I don't. Only outfit in northern Montana I know that has hung +together at all is the Flying U. Old man Whitmore, he's hangin' on by his +eyewinkers to what little range he can, and is going in for +thoroughbreds. Most of his boys is with him yet, they tell me—" +</p> + +<p> +"What they doing? Still riding?" Luck let out a long breath and lighted +his cigarette. A little flare of hope had come into his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"Riding—yes, what little there is to do. Ranching a little too, and +kicking about changed times, same as I'm doing. Last time I saw that +outfit they was riding, you bet!" The dried little man chuckled, "That +was in Great Falls, some time back. They was all in a contest, and +pulling down the money, too. I was talking to old man Whitmore all one +evening. He was telling me—" +</p> + +<p> +From away out yonder behind a hill came the throaty call of the coming +train. The dried little man jumped up, mumbled that it did beat all how +time went when yuh got to talking over old days, and hustled two trunks +out of the baggage room. Luck got his grip out of the office, settled +himself into his coat, and took a last, long pull at the cigarette stub +before he threw it away. It was not much of a clue that he had fallen +upon by chance, but Luck was not one to wait until he was slapped in the +face with a fact. He had intended swinging back through Arizona, where in +certain parts cattle still were wild enough to bunch up at sight of a man +afoot. His questioning of the dried little man had not been born of any +concrete purpose, but of the range man's plaint in the abstract. Still— +</p> + +<p> +"Say, brother, what's the Flying U's home town?" he called after the +dried little man with his amiable, Southern drawl. +</p> + +<p> +"Huh? Dry Lake. Yuh taking this train?" +</p> + +<p> +"So long—taking it for a ways, yes." Luck hurried down to where a +kinky-haired porter stood apathetically beside the steps of his coach. +Dry Lake? He had never heard of the place, but he could find out from the +railroad map or the conductor. He swung his grip into the waiting hand of +the porter and went up the steps hurriedly. He meant to find out where +Dry Lake was, and whether this train would take him there. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER TWO +<br><br> +"WHERE THE CATTLE ROAMED IN THOUSANDS, A-MANY A HERD AND BRAND ..."—<i>Old +Range Song</i>. +</h3> + +<p> +If you are at all curious over the name to which Luck Lindsay answered +unhesitatingly,—his very acceptance of it proving his willingness to be +so identified,—I can easily explain. Some nicknames have their origin in +mystery; there was no mystery at all surrounding the name men had +bestowed upon Lucas Justin Lindsay. In the first place, his legal +cognomen being a mere pandering to the vanity of two grandfathers who had +no love for each other and so must both be mollified, never had appealed +to Luck or to any of his friends. Luck would have been grateful for any +nickname that would have wiped Lucas Justin from the minds of men. But +the real reason was a quirk in Luck's philosophy of life. Anything that +he greatly desired to see accomplished, he professed to leave to chance. +He would smile his smile, and lift his shoulders in the Spanish way he +had learned in Mexico and the Philippines, and say: "That's as luck will +have it. <i>Quien sabe</i>?" Then he would straightway go about bringing the +thing to pass by his own dogged efforts. Men fell into the habit of +calling him Luck, and they forgot that he had any other name; so there +you have it, straight and easily understandable. +</p> + +<p> +As luck would have it, then,—and no pun intended, please,—he found +himself en route to Dry Lake without any trouble at all; a mere matter of +one change of trains and very close connections, the conductor told him. +So Luck went out and found a chair on the observation platform, and gave +himself up to his cigar and to contemplation of the country they were +gliding through. What he would find at Dry Lake to make the stop worth +his while did not worry him; he left that to the future and to the god +Chance whom he professed to serve. He was doing his part; he was going +there to find out what the place held for him. If it held nothing but a +half dozen ex-cow-punchers hopelessly tamed and turned farmers, why, +there would probably be a train to carry him further in his quest. He +would drop down into Wyoming and Arizona and New Mexico,—just keep going +till he did find the men he wanted. That was Luck's way. +</p> + +<p> +The shadows grew long and spread over the land until the whole vast +country lay darkling under the coming night. Luck went in and ate his +dinner, and came back again to smoke and stare and dream. There was a +moon now that silvered the slopes and set wide expanses shimmering. +</p> + +<p> +Luck, always more or less a dreamer, began to people the plain with the +things that had been but were no more: with buffalo and with Indians who +camped on the trail of the big herds. He saw their villages, the tepees +smoke-grimed and painted with symbols, some of them, huddled upon a knoll +out there near the timber line. He heard the tom-toms and he saw the +rhythmic leaping and treading, the posing and gesturing of the braves who +danced in the firelight the tribal Buffalo Dance. +</p> + +<p> +After that he saw the coming of the cattle, driven up from the south by +wind-browned, saddle-weary cowboys who sang endless chanteys to pass the +time as they rode with their herds up the long trail. He saw the cattle +humped and drifting before the wind in the first blizzards of winter, +while gray wolves slunk watchfully here and there, their shaggy coats +ruffled by the biting wind. He saw them when came the chinook, a howling, +warm wind from out the southwest, cutting the snowbanks as with a knife +that turned to water what it touched, and laying bare the brown grass +beneath. He saw the riders go out with the wagons to gather the +lank-bodied, big-kneed calves and set upon them the searing mark of their +owner's iron. +</p> + +<p> +Urged by the spell of the dried little man's plaintive monologue, the old +range lived again for Luck, out there under the moon, while the train +carried him on and on through the night. +</p> + +<p> +What a picture it all would make—the story of those old days as they +had been lived by men now growing old and bent. With all the cheap, +stagy melodrama thrown to one side to make room for the march of that +bigger drama, an epic of the range land that would be at once history, +poetry, realism! +</p> + +<p> +Luck's cigar went out while he sat there and wove scene after scene of +that story which should breathe of the real range land as it once had +been. It could be done—that picture. Months it would take in the making, +for it would swing through summer and fall and winter and spring. With +the trail-herd going north that picture should open—the trail-herd +toiling over big, unpeopled plains, with the riders slouched in their +saddles, hat brims pulled low over eyes that ached with the glare of the +sun and the sweep of wind, their throats parched in the dust cloud flung +upward from the marching, cloven hoofs. Months it would take in the +making,—but sitting there with the green tail-lights switching through +cuts and around low hills and out over the level, Luck visioned it all, +scene by scene. Visioned the herd huddled together in the night while the +heavens were split with lightning, and the rain came down in +white-lighted streamers of water. Visioned the cattle humped in the snow, +tails to the biting wind, and the riders plodding with muffled heads bent +to the drive of the blizzard, the fine snow packing full the wrinkles in +their sourdough coats. +</p> + +<p> +It could be done. He, Luck Lindsay, could do it; in his heart he knew +that he could. In his heart he felt that all of these months—yes, and +years—of picture-making had been but a preparation for this great +picture of the range. All these one-reel pioneer pictures had been merely +the feeble efforts of an apprentice learning to handle the tools of his +craft, the mental gropings of his mind while waiting for this, his big +idea. His work with the Indians was the mere testing and trying of +certain photographic effects, certain camera limitations. He felt like an +athlete taught and trained and tempered and just stepping out now for the +big physical achievement of his life. +</p> + +<p> +He grew chilled as the night advanced, but he did not know that he was +cold. He was wondering, as a man always wonders in the face of an +intellectual birth, why this picture had not come to him before; why he +had gone on through these months and years of turning out reel upon reel +of Western pictures, with never once a glimmering of this great epic of +the range land; why he had clung to his Indians and his one-reel Indian +pictures with now and then a three-reel feature to give him the elation +of having achieved something; why he had left them feeling depressedly +that his best work was in the past; why he had looked upon real range-men +as a substitute only for those lean-bodied bucks and those fat, +stupid-eyed squaws and dirty papooses. +</p> + +<p> +With the spell of his vision deep upon his soul, Luck sat humiliated +before his blindness. The picture he saw as he stared out across the +moonlit plain was so clean-cut, so vivid, that he marvelled because he +had never seen it until this night. Perhaps, if the dried little man had +not talked of the old range— +</p> + +<p> +Luck took a long breath and flung his cigar out over the platform rail. +The dried little man? Why, just as he stood he was a type! He was the Old +Man who owned this herd that should trail north and on through scene +after scene of the picture! No make-up needed there to stamp the sense of +reality upon the screen. Luck looked with the eye of his imagination and +saw the dried little man climbing, with a stiffness that could not hide +his accustomedness, into the saddle. He saw him ride out with his men, +scattering his riders for the round-up; the old cowman making sharper the +contrast of the younger men, fixing indelibly upon the consciousness of +those who watched that this same dried little man had grown old in the +saddle; fixing indelibly the fact that not in a day did the free ranging +of cattle grow to be one of the nation's great industries. +</p> + +<p> +Of a sudden Luck got up and stood swaying easily to the motion of the car +while he took a long, last look at the moon-bathed plain where had been +born his great, beautiful picture. He stretched his arms as does one who +has slept heavily, and went inside and down to the beginning of the +narrow aisle where were kept telegraph forms in their wooden-barred +niches in the wall. He went into the smoking compartment and wrote, with +a sureness that knew no crossed-out words, a night letter to the dried +little man who had sat on the baggage truck and talked of the range. And +this is what went speeding back presently to the dried little man who +slept in a cabin near the track and dreamed, perhaps, of following the +big herds: +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="noindent"> +Baggage man, +Sioux, N.D. +</p> + +<p> +Report at once to me at Dry Lake. Can offer you good position Acme Film +Company, good salary working in big Western picture. Small part, some +riding among real boys who know range life. Want you bad as type of +cowman owning cattle in picture. Salary and expenses begin when you show +up. For references see Indian Agent. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +LUCK LINDSAY, +Dry Lake, Mont. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +If you count, you will see that he ran eight words over the limit of the +flat rate on night letters, but he would have over-run the limit by +eighty words just as quickly if he had wanted to say so much. That was +Luck's way. Be it a telegram, instructions to his company, or a quarrel +with some one who crossed him, Luck said what he wanted to say—and paid +the price without blinking. +</p> + +<p> +I don't know what the dried little man thought when the operator +handed him that message the next morning; but I can tell you in a few +words what he did: He arrived in Dry Lake just two trains behind Luck. +</p> + +<p> +Luck did not sleep that night. He lay in his berth with the shade pushed +up as high as it would go, and stared out at the tamed plain, and +perfected the details of his Big Picture. Into the spell of the range he +wove a story of human love and human hate and danger and trouble. So it +must be, to carry his message to the world who would look and marvel at +what he would show them in the drama of silence. He had not named his +picture yet. The name would come in its own good time, just as the +picture had come when the time for its making was ripe. +</p> + +<p> +The next day he did not talk with the men whose elbows he touched in the +passing intimacy of travel; though Luck was a companionable soul who was +much given to talking and to seeing his listeners grow to an +audience,—an appreciative audience that laughed much while they listened +and frowned upon interruption. Instead, he sat silent in his seat, since +on this train there was no observation car, and he stared out of the +window without seeing much of what passed before his eyes, and made notes +now and then, and covered all the margins of his time-table with figures +that had to do with film. Once, I know, he blackened his two front teeth +with pencil tappings while he visualized a stampede and the probable +amount of footage it would require, and debated whether it should be +"shot" with two cameras or three to get scenes from different angles. A +stampede it should be,—a real stampede of fear-frenzied range cattle in +the mad flight of terror; not a bunch of galloping tame cows urged to +foreground by shouting and rock-throwing from beyond the side lines of +the scene. It would be hard to get, and it could not be rehearsed before +the camera was turned on it. Luck decided that it should be shot from +three angles, at least, and if he could manage it he would have a +"panoram" of the whole thing from a height. +</p> + +<p> +The porter came apologetically with his big whisk broom and told Luck +that they would all presently be gazing at Dry Lake, or words which +carried that meaning. So Luck permitted himself to be whisked from a half +dollar while his thoughts were "in the field" with his camera men and +company, shooting a real stampede from various angles and trying to +manage so that the dust should not obscure the scene. After a rain—of +course! Just after a soaking rain, he thought, while he gathered up his +time-table and a magazine that held his precious figures, and followed +the porter out to the vestibule while the train slowed. +</p> + +<p> +It was in this mood that Luck descended to the Dry Lake depot platform +and looked about him. He had no high expectation of finding here what he +sought. He was simply making sure, before he left the country behind him, +that he had not "overlooked any bets." His mind was open to conviction +even while it was prepared against disappointment; therefore his eyes +were as clear of any prejudice as they were of any glamour. He saw things +as they were. +</p> + +<p> +On the side track, then, stood a string of cars loaded with wool, as his +nose told him promptly. Farms there were none, but that was because the +soil was yellow and pebbly and barren where it showed in great bald spots +here and there; you would not expect to raise cabbages where a prairie +dog had to forage far for a living. Behind the depot, the prairie humped +a huge, broad shoulder of bluff wrinkled along the forward slope of it +like the folds of a full fashioned skirt. There, too, the soil was +bare,—clipped to the very grass roots by hundreds upon hundreds of +hungry sheep whose wool, very likely, was crowding those cars upon the +siding. Luck wasted neither glances nor thought upon the scene. Dry Lake +was like many, many other outworn "cow towns" through which he had +passed; changed without being bettered; all of the old life taken out of +it in the process of its taming. +</p> + +<p> +He threw his grip into the waiting, three-seated spring wagon that served +as a hotel bus, climbed briskly after it, and glanced ahead to where he +saw the age-blackened boards of the stockyards. Cattle—and then came the +sheep. So runs the epitaph of the range, and it was written plainly +across Dry Lake and its surroundings. +</p> + +<p> +They went up a dusty trail and past the yawning wings of the stockyards +where a bunch of sheep blatted now in the thirst of mid-afternoon. They +stopped before the hotel where, in the old days, many a town-hungry +puncher had set his horse upon its haunches that he might dismount in a +style to match his eagerness. Luck climbed out and stood for a minute +looking up and down the sandy street that slept in the sun and dreamed, +it may be, of rich, unforgotten moments when the cow-punchers had come +in off the range and stirred the sluggish town to a full, brief life +with their rollicking. Across the street was Rusty Brown's place, with +its narrow porch deserted of loafers and its windows blinking at the +street with a blankness that belied the things they had looked upon in +bygone times. +</p> + +<p> +A less experienced man than Luck would have been convinced by now that +here was no place to go seeking "real boys." But Luck had been a range +man himself before he took to making motion pictures; he knew range towns +as he knew men,—which was very well indeed. He looked, as he stood +there, not disgusted but mildly speculative. Two horses were tied to the +hitching rail before Rusty Brown's place. These horses bore saddles and +bridles, and, if you know the earmarks, you can learn a good deal about a +rider just by looking at his outfit. Neither saddle was new, but both +gave evidence of a master's pride in his gear. They were well-preserved +saddles. They had the conservative swell of fork that told Luck almost to +a year how old they were. One, he judged, was of California make, or at +least came from the extreme southwest of the cattle country. It had a +good deal of silver on it, and the tapideros were almost Mexican in their +elaborateness. The bridle on that horse matched the saddle, and the +headstall was beautiful with silver kept white and clean. The rope coiled +and tied beside the saddle fork was of rawhide. (Luck did not need to +cross the street to be sure of these details; observation was a part of +his profession.) The other saddle was the kind most favored on the +northern range. Short, round skirts, open stirrups, narrow and rimmed +with iron. Stamped with a two-inch border of wild rose design, it pleased +Luck by its very simplicity. The rope was a good "grass" rope worn smooth +and hard with much use. +</p> + +<p> +Luck flipped a match stub out into the dust of the street, tilted his +small Stetson at an angle over his eyes, went over to the horses, and +looked at their brands which had been hidden from him. One was a Flying +U, and the other bore a blurred monogram which he did not trouble to +decipher. He turned on his heels and went into Rusty's place. +</p> + +<p> +On his way to the bar he cast an appraising glance around the room and +located his men. Here, too, a less experienced man might have +blundered. One, known to his fellows as the Native Son, would scarcely +be mistaken; his dress, too, evidently matched the silver-trimmed +saddle outside. But Andy Green, in blue overalls turned up five inches +at the bottom, and somewhat battered gray hat and gray chambray shirt, +might have been almost any type of outdoor man. Certain it is that few +strangers would have guessed that he was one of the best riders in that +part of the State. +</p> + +<p> +Luck bought a couple of good cigars, threw away his cigarette and lighted +one, set the knuckles of his left hand upon his hip, and sauntered over +to the pool table where the two men he wanted to meet were languidly +playing out their third string. He watched them for a few minutes, smiled +sympathetically when Andy Green made a scratch and swore over it, and +backed out of the way of the Native Son, who sprawled himself over the +table corner and did not seem to know or to care how far the end of his +cue reached behind him. +</p> + +<p> +Luck did not say a word to either; but Andy, noting the smile of +sympathy, gave him a keenly attentive glance as he came up to that end of +the table to empty a corner pocket. He fished out the four and the nine, +juggled them absently in his hand, and turned and looked at Luck again, +straight and close. Luck once more smiled his smile. +</p> + +<p> +"No, I don't believe you know me, brother," he said, answering Andy's +unspoken thought. "I'd have remembered you if I'd ever met you. You may +have seen me in a picture somewhere." +</p> + +<p> +"By gracious, are you the little fellow that drove a stage coach and six +horses down off a grade—" +</p> + +<p> +"That's my number, old-timer." Luck's smile widened to a grin. That had +been a hair-lifting scene, and Andy Green was not the first stranger to +walk up and ask him if he had driven that stage coach and six horses down +off a mountain grade into a wide gulch to avoid being held up and the +regulation box of gold stolen. It was probably the most spectacular thing +Luck had ever done. "Got down that bank fine as silk," he volunteered +companionably, "and then when I'd passed camera and was outa the scene, +by thunder, I tangled up with a deep chuck-hole that was grown over with +weeds, and like to have broken my fool neck. How's that for luck?" He +took the cigar from his lips and smiled again with half-closed, measuring +eyes. "Yes, sir, I just plumb spoiled one perfectly good Concord coach, +and would have been playing leading corpse at a funeral, believe me, if I +hadn't strapped myself to the seat for that drive off the grade. As it +was, I hung head down and cussed till one of the boys cut me loose. Where +did you see the picture?" +</p> + +<p> +"Me? Up in the Falls. Say, I'm glad to meet you. Luck Lindsay's your +name, ain't it? I remember you were called that in the picture. Mine's +Green, Andy Green,—when folks don't call me something worse. And this is +Miguel Rapponi, a whole lot whiter than he sounds. What, for Lordy sake, +you wasting time on this little old hasbeen burg for? Take it from me, +there ain't anything left here but dents in the road and a brimstone +smell. We're all plumb halter-broke and so tame we—" +</p> + +<p> +"You look all right to me, brother," Luck told him in that convincing +tone he had. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, same to you," Andy retorted with a frank heartiness he was not in +the habit of bestowing upon strangers. "I feel as if I'd worked with you. +Pink was with me when we saw that picture, and we both hollered 'Go to +it!' right out loud, when you gathered up the ribbons and yanked off the +brake and went off hell-popping and smiling back over your shoulder at +us. It was your size and that smile of yours that made me remember you. +You looked like a kid when you mounted to the boot; and you drove down +off smiling, and you had one helanall of a trip, and you drove off that +grade looking like you was trying to commit suicide and was smiling still +when you pulled up at the post-office. By gracious, I—" +</p> + +<p> +Luck gave a little chuckle deep in his throat. "I did all that smiling +the day before I drove off the grade," he confessed, looking from one +to the other. "I don't guess I'd have smiled quite so sweet, maybe, if +I'd waited." +</p> + +<p> +"Is that the way you make moving pictures, hind-side-foremost?" Andy, his +back to the table, lifted himself over the rim to a comfortable seat and +began to make himself a cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, or both ways from the middle, just as it happens." Luck was always +ready to talk pictures. "In that stage-driver picture I made all the +scenes before I made that drive,—for two reasons. Biggest one was that I +wanted to be sure of having it all made, in case something went wrong on +that feature drive; get me? Other was plain, human bullheadedness. Some +of the four-flushers I was cursed with in the company,—because they were +cheap and I had to balance up what I was paying the Injuns,—they kept +eyeing that bluff where I said I'd come down with the coach, and betting +I wouldn't, and talking off in corners about me just stalling. I just let +'em sweat. I made the start, and I made the finish. I drove right to +where I looked down off the pinnacle—remember?—and saw the outlaw gang +at the foot of the grade; I made all the 'dissolves,' and where I went +back and captured 'em and brought 'em in to camp. But I didn't drive off +the grade into the gulch till last thing, as luck would have it. Good +thing, too. That old coach was sure some busted, and I wasn't doing any +more smiles till I grew some hide." +</p> + +<p> +Andy Green licked his cigarette and let his honest gray eyes wander from +Luck to the darkly handsome face of the Native Son. "Sounds most as +exciting as holding down a homestead, anyway. Don't you think so, Mig? +And say! It's sure a pity we can't put off some things in real life till +we get all set and ready to handle 'em!" +</p> + +<p> +"That's right." Luck's face sobered as the idea caught his imagination. +"That's dead right; how well I know it!" +</p> + +<p> +Andy smoked and swung his feet and regarded Luck with interest. "It's +against my religious principles to go poking my nose into the other +fellow's business," he said after a minute, "but I'm wondering if there's +anything in this God-forsaken country to bring a fellow like you here +deliberate. I'm wondering if you meant to stop, or if you just leaned too +far out the car window on your way through town." +</p> + +<p> +For a half minute Luck looked up at him. He had expected a preparatory +winning of the confidence of the men whom he sought. He had planned to +lead up gradually to his mission, in case he found his men. But in that +half minute he threw aside his plan as a weak, puerile wasting of time, +and he answered Andy Green truthfully. +</p> + +<p> +"No, I didn't fall off the train," he drawled. "I just grabbed my grip +and beat it when they told me where I was. I'm out on a still hunt for +some real boys. Some that can ride and shoot and that know cow-science so +well they don't have to glad up in cowboy clothes and tie red bandanna +bibs on to make folks think they're range broke." +</p> + +<p> +"And yet you're wasting time in this tame little granger wart on the +map!" +</p> + +<p> +"No, not wasting time," smiled Luck serenely. "A little old trunk-juggler +up the trail told me about the Flying U outfit that is still sending +their wagons out when the grass gets green. I stopped off to give the +high-sign to the boys, and say howdy, and swap yarns, and maybe haze some +of 'em gently into camp. I wanted to see if the Flying U has got any real +ones left." +</p> + +<p> +Andy Green looked eloquently at the Native Son. "Now, what do you know +about that, Mig?" he breathed softly behind a mouthful of smoke. "Wanting +to rope him out a few from the Flying U bunch. Say! Have you got a real +puncher amongst that outfit of long-haired hayseeds?" +</p> + +<p> +The Native Son shook his head negligently and gave Luck a velvet-eyed +glance of friendly pity. +</p> + +<p> +"If there is, he's ranging deep in the breaks and never shows up at +shipping time," he averred. "I've never seen one myself. They've got one +that—what would you call Big Medicine, if you wanted to name him quick +and easy, Andy?" +</p> + +<p> +Andy frowned. "What I'd call him had best not be named in this +God-fearing little hamlet," he responded gloomily. "I sure would never +name him in the day I talked about cow-punchers that's ever dug sand outa +their eyes on trail-herd." +</p> + +<p> +The Native Son, still with the velvet-eyed look of pity, turned to Luck. +"Andy's right," he sighed. "They've got one that takes spells of talking +deliriously about when he punched cows in Coconino County; but I guess +there's nothing to it." +</p> + +<p> +"You say you was told that the Flying U outfit has got some real ones?" +Andy eyed Luck curiously and with some of the Native Son's pity. "Just in +a general way, what happens to folks that lie to you deliberate, when you +meet 'em again? I'd like," he added, "to know about how sorry to feel for +that baggage humper when you see him—after meeting the Flying U bunch." +</p> + +<p> +The soul of Luck Lindsay was singing an impromptu doxology, but the face +of him—so well was that face trained to do his bidding—became tinged +with disgust and disappointment. With two "real boys" he was talking; he +knew them by the unconscious range vernacular and the perfect candor with +which they lied to him about themselves. But not so much as a gleam of +the eye betrayed to them that he knew. +</p> + +<p> +"So that's why he went off grinning so wide," he mused aloud. "I was sure +caught then with my gun at home on the piano. I might have known better +than to look for the real thing here, though you fellows have a few +little marks that haven't worn off yet." +</p> + +<p> +"Me? Why, I'm a farmer, and I'm married, and I'm in a deuce of a stew +because my spuds is drying up on me and no way to get water on 'em +without I carry it to 'em in a jug," disclaimed Andy Green hastily. "All +I know about punchers I learned from seeing picture shows when I go to +town. Now, Mig, here—". +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, don't go and reveal all of my guilty past," protested the Native +Son. "Those three days I spent at a wild-west carnival show have about +worked outa my system. I'm still trying to wear out the clothes I won off +some of the boys in a crap game," he explained to Luck apologetically, +"but my earmarks won't outlast the clothes, believe me." +</p> + +<p> +Luck thoughtfully flicked the ash collar off his cigar. "It won't be any +use then to go out to the Flying U, I suppose," he observed tentatively, +his eyes keen for their changing expressions. "I may as well take the +next train out, I reckon, and drift on down into Arizona and New Mexico. +I know about where some real punchers range—but I thought there was no +harm in looking up the pedigree of this Flying U outfit. I'm sure some +obliged to you boys for heading me off." Back of his eyes there was a +laugh, but Andy Green and the Native Son were looking queerly at each +other and did not see it there. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, well, now you're this close, you wouldn't be losing anything by +going on out to the ranch, anyway," Andy recanted guardedly. "Come to +think of it, there's one regular old-time ranger out there. They call him +Slim. He's sure a devil on a horse—Slim is. I'd forgot about him when I +spoke. He's a ranger, all right." +</p> + +<p> +Luck knew very well that Andy Green had used the word "ranger" with the +deliberate attempt to appear ignorant of the terminology of the range. A +cow-puncher comes a long way from being a ranger, as every one knows. A +ranger is a man of another profession entirely. +</p> + +<p> +"It used to be a real cattle ranch, they tell me," added the Native Son +artfully. "We live out near there, and if you wanted to ride out—" +</p> + +<p> +Luck appeared undecided. He sucked at his cigar, and he blew out the +smoke thoughtfully, and contemplated the toe of one neat, tan shoe. Just +plain acting, it was; just a playing of his part in the little game they +had started. Better than if they had boasted of their range knowledge and +their prowess in the saddle did Luck know that the dried little man had +told him the truth. He knew that at the Flying U he would find a remnant +of the old order of things. He would find some real boys, if these two +were a fair sample of the bunch. That they lied to him about themselves +and their fellows was but a sign that they accepted him as one of their +breed. He looked them over with gladdened eyes. He listened to the +unconscious tang of the range that was in their talk. These two farmers? +He could have laughed aloud at the idea. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I might get some atmosphere ideas," he said at last. "If you don't +mind having me trail along—" +</p> + +<p> +"Glad to have yuh!" came an instant duet. +</p> + +<p> +"And if I can scare up a horse—" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, we'll look after that. You can come right on out with us. The +boys'll be plumb tickled to death to meet you." +</p> + +<p> +"Are they all farmers, same as you—these boys you mention?" Luck looked +up into Andy's eyes when he asked the question. +</p> + +<p> +Andy grinned. "Farmers, yes—same as us!" he said ambiguously and picked +up his gloves as he turned to lead the way out. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER THREE +<br><br> +AND THEY SIGH FOR THE DAYS THAT ARE GONE +</h3> + +<p> +Just when Luck's new acquaintances first forgot to carry on their +whimsical pretense of knowing little of range matters, neither of them +could have told afterwards. They left town with the tacit understanding +between them that they were going to have some fun with the Happy Family +and with this likable little man of the movies. They rode out between +long lines of hated barbed wire stretched taut, and they lied +systematically and consistently to Luck Lindsay about themselves and +their fellows and their particular condition of servitude to fate. +</p> + +<p> +But somewhere along the trail they forgot to carry on the deception; and +only Luck could have told why they forgot, and when they forgot, and how +it was that, ten miles or so out from town, the two were telling how the +Flying U had fought to save itself from extinction; how the "bunch" had +schemed and worked and had in a measure succeeded in turning aside the +tide of immigration from the Flying U range. Big issues they talked of as +they rode three abreast through the warm haze of early fall; and as they +talked, Luck's mind visioned the tale vividly, and his eyes swept the +fence-checkered upland with a sympathetic understanding. +</p> + +<p> +"Right here," said Andy at last, when they came up to a gate set across +the trail, "right here is where we drawed the line—and held it. Now, +half of those shacks you see speckled around are empty. The rest hold +nesters too poor to get outa the country. One or two, that had a little +money, have stuck and gone into sheep. But from here on to Dry Creek +there's nothing ranging but the Flying U brand. Not much—compared to +what the old range used to be—but still it keeps things going. We +throwed a dam across the coulee, up there next the hills, and there's +some fair hay land we're putting water on. We have to winter-feed +practically everything these days. The range just nicely keeps the stock +from snow to snow. I've got pitchfork callouses on my hands I never will +outgrow if I was to fall heir to a billion dollars and never use my hands +again for fifty years except to feed myself. It takes work, believe me! +And if there's anything on earth a puncher hates worse than work, it's +some other kind of work. +</p> + +<p> +"At the Flying U," he went on, looking at Luck pensively, "you'll see the +effect of too many people moved into the range country. If there's +anything more distressing than a baby left without a mother, it's a bunch +of cow-punchers that's outlived their range. Ain't that right?" +</p> + +<p> +"Sure it's right!" Luck's sympathy was absolutely sincere. "How well I +know it! Barbed wire scraped me outa the saddle in Wyoming—barbed wire +and sheep. All there is left for a fellow is to forget it and start a +barber shop or a cigar stand, or else make pictures of the old days, the +way I've been doing. You can get a little fun out of making pictures of +what used to be your everyday life. You can step up on a horse and go +whoopin' over the hills and kinda forget it ain't true." A wistfulness +was in Luck's tone. "You pick out the big minutes from the old days—that +had a whole lot of dust and sun and thirst and hunger in between, when +all's said—you pick out the big minutes, and you bring them to life +again, and sort of push them up close together and leave out most of the +hardships. That's why so many of the old boys drift into pictures, I +reckon. They try to forget themselves in the big minutes." +</p> + +<p> +The two who rode with him were silent for a space. Then the Native +Son spoke drily: "About the biggest minutes we get now come about +meal times." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, we can get down in the breaks on round-up time and kinda forget the +world's fenced clear 'way round it with barb-wire," Andy bettered the +statement. "But round-up gets shorter every year." +</p> + +<p> +"My next picture," Luck observed artfully and yet with a genuine desire +to unbosom himself a little to these two who would understand, "my next +picture is going to be different. It's going to have a crackajack story +in it, of course, but it will have something more than a story. I'm going +to start it off with a trail herd coming up from Texas. You know—like it +was when we were kids. I'm going to show those cattle trailing along +tired—and footsore, some of them—and a drag strung out behind for a +mile. I'm going to show the punchers tired and hungry, and riding half +asleep in the saddle. And with that for a starter, I'm going to show the +real range; the <i>real</i> range—get that, boys? I'm going to cut clean away +from regulation moving-picture West; clear out away from posses chasing +outlaws all over a ten-acre location. I'm going to find me a real old +cow-ranch; or if I can't find one, by thunder I'm going to <i>make</i> me one. +I'm sick of piling into a machine and driving out into Griffith Park and +hunting a location for shooting scrapes to take place in. I know a place +where I could produce stuff that would make people talk about it for a +month after. Maybe the buildings would need some doctoring, but there's +sure some round-pole corrals that would make your mouth water." +</p> + +<p> +"We used to have some," sighed Andy, "at the Flying U. But they kinda +went to pieces, and Chip's been replacing them with plank. By gracious, +you don't see many round-pole corrals any more, come to think of it. +There's remains, scattered around over the country." +</p> + +<p> +"The West—the real honest-to-goodness, twelve-months-in-the-year West," +Luck went on riding his hobby, "has been mighty little used in films. +Ever notice that? It's all gone to shooting, and stealing the full +product of all the gold mines in the world, and killing off more bad men +than the Lord ever sent a flood to punish. For film purposes, the West +consists of one part beautiful maiden in distress, three parts bandit, +and two parts hero. Mix these to taste with plenty of swift action and +gun-smoke, and serve with bandits all dead or handcuffed and beautiful +maiden and hero in lover's embrace on top. That's your film West, +boys—and how well I know it!" Luck stopped to light a cigarette and to +heave a sigh. "I've been building film West to order for four years now, +and more. Only fun I've had, and the best work I've done, I did with a +bunch of Indians I've just taken back to their reservation. For the rest, +it's mostly bunk." +</p> + +<p> +"Not that stage-driver picture," Andy dissented. "There wasn't any bunk +about that, old-timer. That was some driving!" +</p> + +<p> +"Some driving, yes. Sure, it was. It was darned good driving, but the +same old story doctored up a little. Same old shipment of gold, same old +bandits lying in wait, same old hero doing stunts. I ought to know," he +added with a grin. "I wrote the story and did the stunts myself." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, they were some stunts!" admired Andy with unusual sincerity. +</p> + +<p> +Luck waved aside the compliment and went back to his hobby. "Yes, but the +West isn't just a setting for stunts. I've got my story—here," and he +tapped his forehead, which was broad and full and not too high. "I'm +going to fire my camera man and get a better one, and I'm going to round +me up a bunch of real boys that can get into the story and live it so +well they won't need to do any acting,—boys that can stand a panoram on +their work in the saddle. I've been getting by with a bunch of freaks +that think they're real riders if they can lope a horse up-grade without +falling off backwards. Most of my direction of those actorines has been +knowing to a hair how much footage to give 'em without showing how raw +their work is. +</p> + +<p> +"They say the public demands a certain grade of rottenness in Western +films, but I never believed that, down deep in my heart. I believe the +public stands for that stuff because they don't see any better. This +four-reeler I've got in mind will sure open the eyes of some +producers—or I'll buy me a five-acre tract in Burbank and raise string +beans for a living." +</p> + +<p> +"I've got a patch of string beans," sighed the Native Son, "that I've +been sitting up nights with. I don't know what ails the cussed things. +Some kind of little green bug chews on them soon as my back is turned. +They ought to be ripe by now—and they aren't through blossoming. Don't +go into beans, <i>amigo</i>." +</p> + +<p> +Luck looked at him and laughed. The Native Son, in black and white Angora +chaps and cream-colored shirt and silver-filigreed hatband as ornamental +touches to his attire, did not look like a man who was greatly worried +over his crop of string beans while he rode with a negligent grace away +from a glowing sunset. But in these days the West is full of +incongruities. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, shut up about them beans!" implored Andy Green with a bored air. +"It's water they want; and a touch of the hoe now and then. You leave 'em +for a month at a time and then go back and wonder why you can't pick a +hatful off 'em. Same as the rest of us have been ranching," he added +ruefully, turning to Luck. "With the best intentions in the world, the +Lord never meant us fellers for farmers, and that's a fact. We'll drop a +hoe any time of day or night to get out riding after stock. Of course, we +didn't take up our claims with the idea of settling down and riding a hoe +handle the rest of our lives. If we had, I guess maybe we'd have done a +little better at it." +</p> + +<p> +"We did what we started out to do," the Native Son pointed out lazily: +"We saved the range—what little there is to save—and we kept a lot of +poor yaps from starving to death on that land, didn't we?" He smiled +slowly. "If I hadn't gotten gay and planted those beans," he added, "I'd +be feeling fine over it. A girl gave me a handful of pinto beans and +asked me to plant them—I did hoe them," he defended tardily to Andy. "I +hoed them the day before the Fourth. You know I did. Same time you hoed +those lemon-colored spuds of yours." +</p> + +<p> +Luck let them wrangle humorously over their agricultural deficiencies, +and drifted off into open-eyed dreaming. Into his picture he began to fit +these two speculatively, with a purely tentative adjustment of their +personalities to his requirements. They were arguing about which of the +two was the worst farmer; but Luck, riding alongside them, was seeing +them slouched in their saddles and riding, bone-tired, with a shuffling +trail-herd hurrying to the next watering place. He was seeing them +galloping hard on the flanks of a storm-lashed stampede, with cunningly +placed radium flares lighting the scene brilliantly now and then. He was +seeing these two plodding, heads bent, into the teeth of a blizzard. He +was seeing... +</p> + +<p> +"I'll have to ride home to the missus now," Andy announced the second +time before Luck heard him. +</p> + +<p> +"Mig will take you on down to the home ranch, and after supper I'll ride +over. So long." +</p> + +<p> +He swung away from them upon a faintly beaten trail, looked back once to +grin and wave his hand, and touched his horse with the spurs. Luck stared +after him thoughtfully, but he did not put his thoughts into words. He +had been trained in the hard school of pictures. He had learned to hold +his tongue upon certain matters, such as his opinion of a man's personal +attributes, or criticism of his appearance, or anything which might be +repeated, maliciously or otherwise, to that man. He did not say to Miguel +Rapponi, for instance, what he thought of Andy Green as a man or a rider. +He did not mention him at all. He had learned in bitterness how idle +gossip may eat away the efficiency of a whole company. +</p> + +<p> +For that reason, and also because his mind was busy with his plans and +the best means of carrying them out, the two rode almost in silence to +the hill that shut the Flying U coulee away from the world. Luck gave a +long sigh and muttered "Great!" when the whole coulee lay spread before +them. Then his quick glances took in various details of the ranch and he +sighed again, from a different emotion. +</p> + +<p> +"It must have been a great place twenty years ago," he amended his first +unqualified enthusiasm. +</p> + +<p> +"Why twenty years ago?" The Native Son gave him a quick, +half-resentful glance. +</p> + +<p> +"Twenty years ago there wasn't so much barb-wire trimming," Luck +explained from the viewpoint of the trained producer of Western pictures. +"You couldn't place a camera anywhere now for a long shot across the +coulee without bringing a fence into the scene. And the log stables are +too old, and the new ones too new." He pulled up and stared long at the +sweep of hills beyond, and the wide spread of the meadow and the big +field farther up stream, and at the lazy meandering of Flying U creek +with its willow fringe just turning yellow with the first touch of +autumn. He looked at the buildings sprawled out below him. +</p> + +<p> +"When that log house was headquarters for the ranch, and the round-pole +corrals were the only fences on the place," he said; "when those old +sheds held the saddle horses on cold nights, and the wagons were out from +green grass to snowfall, and the boys laid around all winter, just +reportin' regular at grub-pile and catching up on sleep they'd lost in +the summer—Lor-dee, what a place it must have been!" +</p> + +<p> +There was something in his tone that brought the Native Son for an +instant face to face with the Flying U in the old days when all the range +was free. So, with faces sober, because the old days were gone and would +never any more return, they rode down the grade and up to the new stable +that was a monument to the dead past, even though it might also be a +sign-post pointing to present prosperity. And in this wise came Luck +Lindsay to the Flying U and was made welcome. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER FOUR +<br><br> +THE LITTLE DOCTOR PROTESTS +</h3> + +<p> +The Little Doctor stepped out upon the porch with the faint tracing of a +frown upon her smooth forehead, and with that slight tightening of the +lips which to her family meant determination; disapproval sometimes, +tense moments always. +</p> + +<p> +She stood for a minute looking down toward the stables, and the wind that +blew down the coulee seized upon the scant folds of her skirt, and +flapped them impishly against the silken-clad ankles that were +exceedingly good to look upon,—since fashion has now made it quite +permissible to look upon ankles. Her lips did not relax with the waiting. +Her frown grew a trifle more pronounced. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Lindsay?" with a rising inflection. +</p> + +<p> +Luck turned his head, saw her standing there, waved his hand to show that +he heard, and started toward her with that brisk, purposeful swing to his +walk that goes with an energetic disposition. The Little Doctor waited, +and watched him, and did not relax a muscle from her determined attitude. +Poor little Luck Lindsay hurried, so as not to keep her standing there in +the wind, and, not knowing just what was before him, he smiled his smile +as he came up to her. +</p> + +<p> +I should have said, poor Little Doctor. She tried to keep her frown and +the fixed idea that went with it, but she was foolish enough to look down +into Luck's face and into his eyes with their sunny friendliness, and at +the smile, where the friendliness was repeated and emphasized. Before she +quite knew what she was doing, the Little Doctor smiled back. Still, she +owned a fine quality of firmness. +</p> + +<p> +"Come in here. I want to have it out with you, and be done," she said, +and turned to open the door. +</p> + +<p> +"Sounds bad, but I'm yours to command," Luck retorted cheerfully, and +went up the steps still smiling. He liked the Little Doctor. She was his +kind of woman. He felt that she would make a good pal, and he knew how +few women are qualified for open comradeship. He cast a side glance at +the kitchen window where the Kid stood with a large slice of bread and +chokecherry jam balanced on his palm, and on his face a look of mental +distress bordered with more jam. Luck nodded and waved his hand, and went +in where the Little Doctor stood waiting for him with a certain ominous +quiet in her manner. Luck shook back his heavy mane of hair that was +graying prematurely, squared his shoulders, and then held out his hand +meekly, palm upward. Boys learn that pose in school, you know. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, for pity's sake! If you go and make me laugh—and I am mad enough at +you, Luck Lindsay, to—to blister that palm! If you weren't any bigger +than Claude, I'd shake you and stand you in a corner on one foot." +</p> + +<p> +"Listen. Shake me, anyway. I believe I'd kinda like it. And while I'm +standing in the corner—on one foot—you can tell me all you're mad +at me for." +</p> + +<p> +The Little Doctor looked at him, bit her lip, and then found that her +eyes were blurred so that his face seemed to waver and grow dim. And Luck +Lindsay, because he saw the tears, laid a hand on her shoulder, and +pushed her ever so gently into a chair. +</p> + +<p> +"Tell me what's worrying you. If it's anything that I have done, I'll +have one of the boys take me out and shoot me; it's what I would deserve. +But I certainly can't think of anything—" +</p> + +<p> +"Do you know that you have filled little Claude's mind up with stories +about moving pictures till he's just crazy? He told me just now that he's +going with you when you go back, and act in your company. And if I won't +let him go, he said, he'd run away and 'hit a freight-train outa Dry +Lake,' and get to California, anyway. And—he'd do it, too! He's +perfectly awful when he gets an idea in his head. I know he's +spoiled—all the boys pet him so—" +</p> + +<p> +"Wait. Let's get this thing straight. Do you think for one minute, Mrs. +Bennett, that I'd coax the Kid away? Say, that hurts—to have you believe +that of me." There was no smile anywhere on Luck's face now. His eyes +were as pained as his voice sounded. +</p> + +<p> +Once more the Little Doctor weakened before him. She believed what he +said, though five minutes before she had believed exactly the opposite. +In her mind she had accused him of coaxing the Kid. She had fully +intended accusing him of it to his face. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't mean coax, perhaps. But—" +</p> + +<p> +"Listen. If the Kid has got that notion, I'm more sorry than you can +guess. Of course, I think pictures and I talk pictures; I admit I make +them in my sleep. And the boys are interested. Those that are going back +with me and those that are not are always sicking me at the subject. I +admit that I sick easy," he added with a whimsical lightening of the +eyes. "And the Kid and I are pals. I like him, Mrs. Bennett. He's got the +stuff in him to make a real man—and I wouldn't call him spoiled, +exactly. He's always been with grown-ups, and his mind has developed away +ahead of the calendar; you see what I mean? He's nine, he tells me—" +</p> + +<p> +"Only eight. He always tries to make himself older than he is," the +Little Doctor corrected quickly. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, he's some boy! And kids somehow take to me; I guess it's because +I'm always chumming with them. He's been taking in everything that has +been said; I could see that. But I surely never talked to him in the way +you mean." +</p> + +<p> +The Little Doctor looked at him and hesitated; but she was a frank young +woman, and she could not help speaking her mind. "You mustn't take it +personally at all," she said, "if I tell you that I am disappointed in +the boys; in Andy and Rosemary especially, because they ought to +appreciate the little home they have made, and stay with it. One sort of +expects Pink and Big Medicine and Weary to do outlandish things. They +haven't really grown up, and they never will. But I am disappointed, just +the same, that they should want to go performing around and shooting +blank cartridges and making clowns of themselves for moving pictures. +Still, that's their own business, of course, if they want to be silly +enough to do it. But now little Claude has taken the fever—and I wish, +Mr. Lindsay, you could do something to—" She stopped, but not because +what she said was hurting Luck's feelings. She did not know that she hurt +him at all. +</p> + +<p> +"It seems to be worse, in your estimation, than exposing the Kid to +yellow fever," Luck observed quietly. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, of course you can understand that I should not want a boy of +mine to—to be all taken up with the idea of acting cowboy parts for a +moving picture." +</p> + +<p> +"Still, there are some fairly decent people in the business," Luck +pointed out still more quietly, and got upon his feet. He had no smile +now for the Little Doctor, though he was still gentle in his manner. "I +see what you mean, Mrs. Bennett. I understand you perfectly. I shall do +what I can to repair the damage to the Kid's character and ideals, and I +want to thank you for coming to me in this matter. Otherwise I might have +gone against your wishes without knowing that I was doing so." For two +breaths or three he held her glance with something that looked out of his +eyes; the Little Doctor did not know what it was. "You see, Mrs. Bennett, +you don't quite understand what you are talking about," he added. "You +have not had the opportunity to understand, of course. But I agree with +you that the Kid's place is at home, and I shall certainly have a talk +with him." +</p> + +<p> +He moved to the door, laid a fine, well-kept hand upon the knob, and +looked at her with a faint smile that had behind it a good deal that +puzzled the Little Doctor. "Don't worry one minute," he said, dropping +his punctilious politeness of the minute before, and becoming again the +intensely human Luck Lindsay. "I 'heap sabe.' I've certainly corrupted +the morals and ambitions of some of the boys—looking at it the way you +do—but I promise to check the devastation right where it's at, and save +your only son." He turned then and went out. +</p> + +<p> +The Little Doctor paid him the tribute of hurrying to the window where +she could watch him go down the path. In his walk, in the set of his +head, there was still something that puzzled her. She hoped that he was +not offended, and she thankfully remembered a good deal that she had left +unsaid. She saw him turn and beckon, and then wait until the Kid had +joined him from the kitchen. She saw the greeting he gave the Kid, and +the adoration on the Kid's face when he looked up at Luck. The two went +away together, and the Little Doctor watched them dubiously. What if the +Kid should run away? He had done it once, and it was well within the +probabilities that he might do it again, if this present obsession of his +were not handled just right. The Kid, she had long ago discovered, could +not be driven,—and there were times when he could not be coaxed. +</p> + +<p> +Luck had been just three days at the Flying U. In those three days he had +fitted himself into the place so well that even old Patsy, the cook, +called him "Look" as easily as though he had been doing it for years; and +Patsy, you must know, was fast acquiring the querulousness of an old age +that does not sweeten with the passing years. Patsy had discovered that +Luck liked his eggs fried on both sides, and thereafter he painstakingly +turned three eggs bottomside up in the frying pan every morning; three +and no more, though Cal Emmett remarked pointedly that he had always +liked his eggs fried and flopped. +</p> + +<p> +Three days, and the Old Man frequently left his big, soft-cushioned +chair, and went slowly down to the bunk-house whence came much laughter, +and listened to the stories that Luck told so well,—with one arm around +the unashamed Kid, very likely, while he talked. +</p> + +<p> +True, they had ranches of their own, those boys of the Flying U. But if +you wanted to find them in a hurry, it were wise to ride first into +Flying U coulee. That was headquarters, and that was home and always +would be; even Andy Green, who was happily married, brought his wife and +stayed there days at a time, with small excuse for the coming. +</p> + +<p> +In three days, then, Luck had chosen his men from among the Happy Family, +and had convinced them that their future welfare and happiness depended +upon their going back with him to Los Angeles. In three days he had +accomplished a good deal; but then, Luck was in the habit of crowding his +days with achievement of one sort or another. As a matter of fact, the +third day he had looked upon as one given solely to the pleasure of +staying at the Flying U while the boys completed their arrangements for +leaving with him. He had done all that he had planned to do, and he was +in a very good humor with the world, or he had been until the Little +Doctor had made his pride writhe under her innocent belittlement of his +vocation. To have her boy work in pictures would be a calamity in her +eyes; in Luck's eyes it would be an honor, provided he did the right kind +of work in the right kind of pictures. +</p> + +<p> +Luck's own personal opinion, however, did not weigh in this case. He had +promised the Little Doctor that he would erase the impression he had made +upon the Kid's too vivid imagination; so he led him to a retired place +where they would be sheltered from the wind by a great stack of alfalfa +hay, and he began in this wise: +</p> + +<p> +"Old-timer, you're the luckiest boy I've seen in all my travels,—growing +up here on the Flying U, with a mother like you've got, and a dad like +Chip, and a ranch like this to get the swing of while you're growing; so +that in another five years I expect you'll be running it yourself, and +your folks will be larking around having the good time they've earned +while they were raising you. I'll bet—" +</p> + +<p> +"So Doctor Dell went and got around you, did she? I knew that was why she +called you into the sett'n room. Forget it, Luck." The Kid spat manfully +into the trodden hay, and pushed his small-size Stetson back so that his +curls showed, and set his feet as far apart as was comfortable. "I knew +she would," he added with weary wisdom in his tone. "Doctor Dell can get +around anybody when she takes a notion." +</p> + +<p> +Luck held his face from smiling. He looked surprised, and disappointed in +the Kid, and sorry for the Kid's parents. At least, he made the Kid feel +that he was thinking all these things, which proves how well one may +master the art of facial expression. He did not say a word; therefore he +put the Kid upon the defensive and set his young wits to devising +arguments in his favor. +</p> + +<p> +"A woman never knows when a fellow begins to grow up. Doctor Dell is the +nicest girl in the world, but she needn't think I'm a baby yet. I can +ride a buckin' horse, and I went on round-up last spring—and made a +hand, too! I can swing a rope as good as any of the bunch; you seen me +whirl a loop and jump through it, and there's more stunts than that I +can do—it was dinner time, so I had to quit before I showed you." The +Kid paused. He had not yet produced any effect whatever upon that +surprised, pitying, disappointed look in Luck's face, and the Kid began +to feel worried. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I was just bluffing when I said I'd run away—if she told you +that." He stopped; the look was still there, only it now seemed to have +contempt added to it. "I don't say I know more'n anybody on the ranch, +and I don't say I'm boss of the ranch yet. I do what they tell me, even +when I know there ain't any sense in it. I humor Doctor Dell a whole +lot!" Could he never get that look off Luck's face? The Kid searched his +soul anxiously. You couldn't go on arguing with that kind of a look; it +made you feel like you'd been stealing sheep. "Oh, well, if you won't +talk to a feller—" The Kid did not turn away quite soon enough to hide +the quiver of his lips. Luck reached out and took a small, grimy hand +and pulled the Kid nearer; near enough so that his arm could go around +the Kid's quivering body. He held him close, and the Kid did not +struggle. He dropped his face against Luck's shoulder, and began to +fight back his tears. +</p> + +<p> +"Listen, pardner," said Luck softly, one hand caressing the Kid's cheek. +"You and I ought to sabe each other better than most folks, because we're +pals. Now, I want you to go with me a heap more than you want to go; just +tuck that away in your mind where you won't lose it. I want you, but I +wouldn't have you without Doctor Dell's free and willing consent. I need +you for my pal; and I could teach you a lot that would be useful to you. +But they need you a whole lot worse than I do. They've been taking care +of you and loving you and planning for you all these eight years, just +watching you grow, and being proud of you because you're what they want +you to be: husky and healthy and good all the way through. You couldn't +go off and leave them now; it wouldn't be right. And, pard, you need them +even worse than they need you. I know,—because I had to grow up without +any one to love me and look after me; and believe me, old pal, it isn't +any cinch. It's just pure luck that I didn't get killed off or go bad. +Now, I'd be good to you, if I had you with me, and so would the boys; but +we couldn't take the place of Doctor Dell and Daddy Chip. +</p> + +<p> +"I've talked pictures too much to you. I didn't know how it was hitting +you, or how much you wanted to go. But listen. If I had the chance you've +got here,—if I had a ranch like this, and cattle, and horses, and a +father and mother and uncle like you've got,—I never would look a camera +in the eye again as long as I live. That's straight, old-timer. Why, I'm +working my head off trying to get enough ahead so that I can have a ranch +of my own! So I can slap a saddle on a horse that carries my brand, and +ride out after my cattle, and haze them into my corral; so I can have a +home that is mine. I never did have one, pardner,—not since I was a heap +smaller than you are now,—and a home of his own is what every man wants +most, down deep in his heart. +</p> + +<p> +"It looks fine to be traveling around, and making moving pictures. It is +fine if you are cut out for that kind of work, and have got to be working +for somebody else to get your start. But remember, pard, I am working and +scheming and planning to get just what you've got already. You, a kid +eight years old, stand right where I'd give all I've got to stand. You'll +own your own ranch and your own home. You've got folks that love you—not +because you hand out the pay envelope on a certain day of the week, but +because you belong to them, and they belong to you. Kid, I'm thirty-two +years old—and I've never known what that felt like. I have never known +what it was like to have some one plan for me and with me, unless they +were paid for it." +</p> + +<p> +The Kid stood very still. "You could live here," he lifted his head to +say gravely after a little silence that was full of thought. "This can be +your home. You can be one of the Happy Family. We'd like to have you." +</p> + +<p> +There was something queer in Luck's voice when he murmured a reply. There +was something in his face which no one but the Kid had ever seen. The +Kid's arm crept around Luck's neck, and tightened there and stayed. +Luck's hand went up to the curls and hovered there caressingly. And they +talked, in tones lowered to the cadence of deep-hidden hopes and longings +revealed in sacred confidence. +</p> + +<p> +The Little Doctor, shamelessly eavesdropping because she was a mother +fighting for her fledgling, tiptoed away from the corner of the stack, +and went back to the house, wiping her eyes frequently with the corner of +her handkerchief that was not embroidered. She went into her room and +stayed there a long while, and before she came out she had recourse to +rosewater and talcum and other first aids to swollen eyelids. +</p> + +<p> +Whatever she may have thought, whatever she may have overheard beyond +what has been recorded, her manner toward Luck was so unobtrusively +tender that Chip looked at her once or twice with a puzzled, husbandly +frown. Also, the Kid felt something special in his Doctor Dell's +good-night kiss; something he did not understand at all, since he had not +yet told her that he was going to be a good boy and stay at home and take +care of her and the ranch. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER FIVE +<br><br> +A BUNCH OF ONE-REELERS FROM BENTLY BROWN +</h3> + +<p> +The Manager of the Acme Film Company cleared his throat with a rasping +noise that sounded very loud, coming as it did after fifteen minutes of +complete silence. Luck, smoking a cigarette absent-mindedly by the window +while he stared out across two vacant lots to a tawdry apartment +house,—and saw a sage-covered plain instead of what was before his +eyes,—started from his daydream and glanced at Martinson inquiringly. +"Well, what do you think of it?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +Martinson cleared his throat again, and shuffled the typed sheets in his +hands. "Seems to lack action, don't it?" he hazarded reluctantly. "Of +course, this is a rough draft; I realize that. I suppose you'll +strengthen up the plot, later on. Chance for some good cattle-stealing +complications, I should think. But I'd boil it down to two reels, Luck, +if I were you. There's a lot of atmosphere you couldn't get, anyway—" +</p> + +<p> +"I can get every foot of that atmosphere," Luck put in crisply. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I suppose—but you don't want that much. Too expensive, where it +doesn't carry the action along. I'd put in some dance-hall scenes; you +haven't enough interiors. Make your lead a victim of card sharps, why +don't you, and have his sister come there after him? You could get some +great dramatic action—have her meet the heavy there—" +</p> + +<p> +"After the tried-and-tested recipe. Sure, Mart! We can take the middle +out of that <i>Her-Brother's-Honor</i> film and use that; and if you're afraid +the public may recognize it, we'll run it backwards. Or we can mix it +with some <i>Western-Girl's-Romance</i> film, or take—" +</p> + +<p> +"Now, Luck, wait a minute. Wait-a-minute!" Martinson's hand went up in +the approved gesture of stopping another's speech. "You can give it an +original twist. You know you can; you always have." +</p> + +<p> +Luck swore, accustomed though he was to the makeshifts of the business. +The street cars had stopped running the night before, while he was still +hammering that scenario out on the typewriter; the street cars had +stopped running, and the steam heat had been turned off in the hotel +where he lived, and he had finished with an old Mexican <i>serape</i> draped +about his person for warmth. But his enthusiasm had not cooled, though +his room grew chill. He had gone to bed when the typing was done, and had +dreamed scene after scene vividly while he slept. Still glowing with the +pride of creation, he had read the script while his breakfast coffee had +cooled, and he had been the first man in the office, so eager was he to +share his secret and see Martinson's eyes gleam with impatience to have +the story filmed. +</p> + +<p> +Knowing this, you will know also why he swore. Martinson thrust out his +under lip at the oath, and tossed the script neatly into the clear space +on the desk. "Oh, if that's the way you feel about it!" His tone was +trenchant. "Sorry I offered any suggestions. There are some good bits, if +they're worked up right, and I naturally supposed you wanted my opinion." +</p> + +<p> +"I did. I never saw you square up to anything but the same old dime-novel +West before. I wanted to see how it would hit you." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it don't." Martinson waited a minute while that sunk in. When he +spoke again, his manner was that of a man who has dismissed a +disagreeable subject, and has taken up important business. +</p> + +<p> +"We've made quite a haul since you left. A bunch of one-reelers from +Bently Brown. You'll eat 'em up, Luck,—all those stories of his +featuring the adventures of the XY cowboys. You've read 'em; everybody +has, according to him. They'll be cheap to put on, because the same sets +and the same locations will do for the lot. Same cast, too. He blew in +here temporarily hard up and wanting to unload, and we got the whole +series for next to nothing." He opened a desk drawer, and took out a +bundle of folded scripts tied with a dingy blue tape. Martinson was a +matter-of-fact man; he really did not understand just how much Luck's new +story meant to its author. If he had, he surely would not have been quite +so brisk and so frankly elated over that untidy lot of Bently Brown +scenarios. +</p> + +<p> +"I had all the synopses numbered and put on top here," he went on, "so +you can run them over and see what they're like. A small company will do, +Luck. That's one point that struck me. Two or three die, on an average, +in the first four hundred feet of every story; so you can double a lot. +I've had Clements go over them and start the carpenters on the street set +where most of the exterior action takes place; we're behind on releases, +you know, and these ought to be rushed. You'd better go over and see how +he's making out; you may want to make some changes." +</p> + +<p> +Luck hesitated so long that Martinson was on the edge of withdrawing the +proffered scripts. But he took them finally, and ran his eye +disparagingly over the titles. "Bently Brown!" he said, as though he were +naming something disagreeable. "I'm to film Bently Brown's +blood-and-battle stuff, am I?" He grinned, with the corners of his mouth +tipped downward so that you never would have suspected it of ever +producing Luck's famous smile. "I might turn them into comedy," he +suggested. "I expect I could get a punch by burlesquing—" +</p> + +<p> +"Punch!" Martinson pushed his chair back impetuously. "Punch? Why, my +godfrey, man, that stuff's all punch!" +</p> + +<p> +Luck curved a palm over his too-expressive mouth while he skimmed the +central idea from two or three synopses. Martinson watched him uneasily. +Martinson claimed to keep one finger pressed firmly upon the public +pulse—wherever that may be found—and to be ever alert for its warning +flutterings. Martinson claimed to know a great deal about what the public +liked in the way of moving pictures. He believed in Luck's knowledge of +the West, but he did not believe that the public would stand for the real +West at all; the public, he maintained, wanted its West served hot and +strong and reeking with the smoke of black powder. So— +</p> + +<p> +"Well, the market demands that sort of thing," he declared, arguing +against that curved palm and the telltale wrinkles around Luck's eyes. +"It's all tommyrot, of course. I don't say it's good; I say it's the +stuff that goes. We're here to make what the public will pay to look +at." Martinson, besides keeping his finger on the public pulse and +attending to the marketing of the Acme wares and watching that expenses +did not run too high, found a little time in which to be human. "I know, +Luck," the human side of him observed sympathetically; "it's just +made-to-order melodrama, but business is simply rotten, old man. We've +just got to release films the market calls for. There's no +art-for-art's-sake in the movie business, and you know it. Now, +personally, I like that scenario of yours—" +</p> + +<p> +"Forget it!" said Luck crisply, warning him off the subject. To make the +warning keener-edged, he lifted the typed sheets over which he had worked +so late the night before, glanced at the top one, gave a snort, and tore +them twice down the length of them with vicious twists of his fingers. He +did not mean to be spectacular; he simply felt that way at that +particular moment, and he indulged the impulse to destroy something. He +dropped the fragments into Martinson's waste basket, picked up the bundle +of scripts and his hat, and went out with his mouth pulled down at the +corners and with his neck pretty stiff. +</p> + +<p> +He went swinging across the studio yard and on past the great stage where +the carpenters halted their work while they greeted him, and looked after +him and spoke of him when he had passed. Early idlers—extras with high +hopes and empty pockets—sent him wistful glances which he did not see at +all; though he did see Andy Green and his wife (who had been Rosemary +Allen). These two stood hesitating just within the half-open, high board +gate fifty yards away. Luck waved his hand and swerved toward them. +</p> + +<p> +"Howdy! Where's the rest of the bunch?" he called out as they hurried up +to him. Whereupon the group of extras were sharp bitten by the envy of +these two strangers, spoken to so familiarly by Luck Lindsay. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you know, I feel sure the boys are being held in the lost-child place +at the police station!" Rosemary Green, twinkled her brown eyes at him +from between strands of crinkly brown hair. "I had tags all fixed, with +name, age, owner's address and all that, and I was going to hang them +around the boys' necks with pale blue ribbon—pale blue would be so +becoming! But do you know, I couldn't find them! I feel worried. I should +hate to waste thirty-nine cents worth of pale blue ribbon. I can't wear +it myself; it makes me look positively swarthy." Rosemary Green had a +most captivating way of saying swarthy. +</p> + +<p> +The corners of Luck's mouth came up instantly. "We'll have to send out +scouting parties. I need that bunch of desperadoes. Let's look over by +the corrals. I've got to go over and see what kind of a street set +they're knocking together, anyway. +</p> + +<p> +"Hello! I have sure-enough crying need for all you strays," he exclaimed +five minutes later, when they came upon the Flying TJ boys standing +disconsolately at the head of the street "set" upon which carpenters were +hammering and sawing and painters were daubing. Luck's eyes chilled as he +took in the stereotyped "Western" crudeness of the set. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, we sure need you—and need you bad," Pink retorted. "We want to +know what town was peeled so they could set the rind up like that and +call it a street? Between you and me, Luck, it don't look good to me, +back or front. You walk into what claims to be a saloon, and come out on +a view of the hills. They tell me the bar of that imitation saloon is +away over there on that platform, and they say the bottles are all full +of tea. That right?" +</p> + +<p> +Luck nodded gloomily. "Soon as they get the set up, it's going to be your +privilege to come boiling out of that saloon, shooting two guns, Pink," +he prophesied. "You'll have the fun of killing half a dozen boys that +come down from this end shooting as they ride." He put his cigarette +between his lips and began to untie the dingy blue tape that bound the +scenarios together. +</p> + +<p> +"Ever read any of Bently Brown's stories? They wished a bunch of them on +to me while I was gone and couldn't defend myself," he said, as one who +breaks bad news. "I'm certainly sorry about this, boys. It's a long way +from what I brought you out here to do; and if you want to, you can call +the deal off and go home. Rip-snorting, rotten melodrama—cheap as ice in +Alaska. Stuff I hate—because it's the stuff that cheapens the West in +pictures." +</p> + +<p> +"What about our range picture?" Andy Green began anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +Luck choked back an oath because of Andy's wife. "Ah—they're married to +the idea that this rot is what sells best. They don't know what a <i>real</i> +Western picture is: they never saw one. And they're afraid to take a +chance. I was in hopes—but Mart's the big chief, you know. He'd gone and +loaded up with this trash, and so he couldn't see my story at all. I get +his viewpoint, all right; he's keen to pry off some real money, and he's +afraid to experiment with new tools. But it does seem pretty raw to put +you boys working on this cheap studio stuff after getting you out here to +do something worth while." +</p> + +<p> +"We're to stay right here, then?" Weary spoke the question that was in +the minds of all of them. +</p> + +<p> +"That's the present outlook," Luck confessed with bitterness. "I don't +need real country for this junk. I was all primed to show him where I'd +have to take my company to New Mexico, but I didn't say anything about it +when he sprung this Bently Brown business. This will all be made right +here at the studio and out in Griffith Park." +</p> + +<p> +Down deep in Luck's heart there was a hurt he would not reveal to any +one. It was built partly of disappointment and an honest dislike for +doing unworthy work; it had in it also some personal chagrin at being +compelled to put the Happy Family at work in the very class of pictures +he had often ridiculed in his talk with them, after bringing them all the +way from Montana so that he might produce his big range picture. He stood +looking somberly at the set which Clements had planned to save time—and +therefore dollars—for the Acme Company. He thought of his range story, +as it had first grown out of the night away up there in the plains +country; he thought of how he had hurried so that he might the sooner +make the vision a reality; how he had talked of it confidently to these +men who had listened with growing enthusiasm and interest, until his +vision had become their vision, his hopes their hopes. +</p> + +<p> +They had left the Flying U and come with him to help make that big +picture of the range. By their eager talk they had helped him to +strengthen certain scenes; they had even suggested new, original material +as they told of this adventure and that accident, and argued—as was +their habit—ever scenes and situations. That was why Andy had spoken of +it as <i>their</i> picture. That was why they were here; that was what had +brought them early to the studio. And in his hand he held a half dozen or +more of those cheap, lurid stories he had always despised; they must let +the public see their faces in these impossible, illogical situations, or +they must go back and call Luck Lindsay names to salve their +disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +The dried little man—whose name was Dave Wiswell—came walking curiously +up the fresh-made "street," his sharp eyes taking in the falsity of the +whole row of shack-houses that had no backs; bald behind as board fences, +save where two-by-fours braced them from falling. He saw the group +standing before a wall that purported to be the front of a bank (which +would be robbed with much bloodshed in the second scenario) and he +hurried a little. Luck scowled at him preoccupiedly, nodded a good +morning, and turned abruptly to the others. +</p> + +<p> +"Listen. If you boys are game for this melodrama, I'd like to use you, +all right. You'll get experience in the business, anyway, so maybe it +won't do you any harm. And if the weather holds good, we'll just make a +long hard drive of this bunch of drivel; we'll rush 'em through—sabe? +And I'll make it my business to see that Mart doesn't unload any more of +the same. You may even get some fun out of it, seeing you're not fed up +on this said Western drama, the way I am. Anyway, what's the word? Shall +I hop into the machine and go down and buy you fellows a bunch of return +tickets, or shall I assign you your parts and wade into this blood and +bullets business?" +</p> + +<p> +Weary folded his arms and grinned down at Luck. "I'm all for the blood +and bullets, myself," he said promptly. "I'm just crazy to come shooting +and yelling down this little imitation street and do things that are +bold and bad." +</p> + +<p> +"I should think," interjected Rosemary Green, with a pretty viciousness, +"that you'd be ashamed, Luck Lindsay! Do you think we are a bunch of +quitters? Give me a part—and a gun—and I'll stand on a ladder behind +that hotel window and shoot 'em as fast as they can turn the corner down +there." Her brown eyes twinkled hearteningly at him. "I'll pull my hair +down, and yell and shoot and wring my hands—Pink, you keep still! I'm +positive I can shoot and wring my hands at the same time in a Bently +Brown story, can't I, Luck?" +</p> + +<p> +"You certainly can," Luck told her grimly. "You can do worse than that +and get by. Well, all right, folks. You prowl around and kill time while +I get ready to start. There won't be anything doing till after lunch, at +the earliest, so make yourselves at home. I'd introduce you to some of +these folks if it was worth while, but it ain't. You'll know them soon +enough—most of them to your sorrow, at that." He turned on his heel with +a hasty "See yuh later," and plunged into the work before him just as +energetically as though his heart were in it. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER SIX +<br><br> +VILLAINS ALL AND PROUD OF IT +</h3> + +<p> +"Day's work, boys!" called Luck through his little megaphone at three +o'clock one day, and doubled up his working script that was much crumpled +and scribbled with hasty pencil marks. "No use spoiling good film," he +remarked to his assistant, glancing up at the sweeping fog bank, off to +the west. "By the time we rehearse the next scene, she'll be too dark to +shoot. You go and order these cavalry costumes, Beckitt; and, say! You +tell them down there that if they're shy on the number, they better set +down and make enough, because they won't see a cent of our money if +there's so much as a canteen lacking. And tell 'em to send army guns. +That last assortment of junk they sent out was pathetic. I want equipment +for fifty U.S. Cavalry, time of the early eighties. That don't mean +forty-nine—get me? You're inclined to let those fellows have it their +own way too much. I want this cavalry—" +</p> + +<p> +"There ain't any close-ups of cavalry, are there?" Beckitt demurred. "I +told them last time I thought those guns would do, because I knew the +detail wouldn't—" +</p> + +<p> +"Listen." Luck's tone was deliberately tolerant. "That's maybe the reason +you've been searching your soul for all along—the reason why you can't +get past the assistant-director stage. I want those fifty cavalrymen +equipped! Do you get that?" While his eyes held Beckitt uncomfortably +with their stern steadfastness, Luck thrust the script into his coat +pocket that had a permanent, motion-picture-director sag to it. "If I +meant that any old gun would do, I'd give my orders that way. Now, +remember, there isn't going to be any waiting around while you go back +and argue, nor any makeshifts, nor anything but fifty cavalrymen fully +equipped. Here's the list complete for to-morrow's order. You see that +it's filled!" +</p> + +<p> +Beckitt took the list which he should have made himself, since that was +what he was paid for doing, and went off in the sulks and the company +machine. Luck pulled a solacing cigar from an inner pocket and licked +down the roughened outer leaves, and scowled thoughtfully across the +studio yard. The camera man was figuring up footage or something, and his +assistant was hurrying to get the tripod folded and put away. There was a +new briskness in the movements of every one save Luck himself, after he +spoke that last sentence through the megaphone. +</p> + +<p> +The Happy Family—or that part of it which had thrown away pitchforks and +taken to the pictures—came clanking across the stage toward Luck. You +would never have known the Happy Family, unless it were the Native Son +who wore his usual regalia in exaggerated form. The Happy Family had +wide, flapping chaps that made them drag their feet they were so heavy +and so long, and great Mexican spurs whose rowels dug tiny trenches in +the ground when they walked. They wore the biggest Stetsons that famous +hat brand ever was stamped upon. They had huge bandanas draped +picturesquely over their chests, and their sleeves were rolled to the +elbows and their eyes rimmed with deep pencil shadings. At their hips +swung six-shooters of violent pattern and portent. Around their middles +sagged belts filled with blank cartridges. A sack of tobacco was making +the rounds as they came on, and Luck watched them through speculatively +narrowed lids. +</p> + +<p> +"Say, by cripes, that there saloon is the driest poison-palace I ever +surged out of with two guns spittin' death and dumnation!" Big Medicine +complained, coming up with the plain intention of lighting his cigarette +from Luck's cigar. "How'd we stack up this time, boss? Bein' soused on +cold tea, I couldn't rightly pass judgment. How many was it I murdered in +cold blood, in that there scene where I laid 'em out with black powder? +Four, or five? Pink, here, claims I killed him twicet, whereas he oughta +be left alive enough to jump on his horse and ride three hundred and +fifty miles to fall dead in his best girl's arms. He claims he made that +ride day before yesterday, and done some pitiful weaving around in the +saddle, out there in the hills, and that he died in that blond lady's +arms first thing this morning, and I hadn't no right to kill him twicet +afterwards in the saloon fight. Now I leave it to you, boss. How about +this here killin' Pink off every oncet in a while?" +</p> + +<p> +Deep in his throat Luck chuckled. "Well, Pink certainly does die +pathetic," he soothed the perturbed murderer, dropping his professional +brusqueness for frank comradeship. "He's about the best little close-up +dier I ever worked with. He can get a sob anytime he rolls his eyes and +gasps and falls backward." He clapped his hand down on Pink's shoulder +and gave it a little shake. +</p> + +<p> +"That's all right," drawled the Native Son, taking off his sombrero to +deepen the crease and the dents, because three girls were coming across +the lot. "But I've got a complaint of my own to make. When you holler for +Bud to start the rough stuff, he just goes powder crazy. He shot me up +four times in that scene! Twice he held the gun so close my scalp's all +powder-marked, and by rights he should have blowed the top of my head +plumb into the street. He gets so taken up with this slaughter-house +business that he'll wind up by shooting himself a few times if you don't +watch him." +</p> + +<p> +"One thing," Weary put in mildly, "I want to speak about, Luck. We need +more blood for those murders. I didn't have half enough for all the +mortal wounds Bud gave me. By rights that saloon should be plumb reeking +with gore when we're all killed off—the way Bud flies at it with those +two six-shooters. No bullets hit the walls anywhere, so it stands to +reason they all land in a soft spot on our persons. I needed a large +bucket of blood—and I had about a half teacupful." He grinned. "Mamma! +That was sure some slaughter, though!" +</p> + +<p> +"Where's Tracy Gray Joyce?" Luck inquired irrelevantly, with a hasty +glance around them. "To-morrow, he'll have to come into that same +slaughter pen and seize the murderer and subdue him by the steely glint +of his eye and by his unflinching demeanor." He pulled the corners of his +mouth down expressively. "That's the way the scenario reads," he added +defensively. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, say, by cripes, he better amble down to the city and buy him some +more glint!" Big Medicine bawled, and laughed afterwards with his big +<i>haw-haw-haw</i>. "And I'll gamble there ain't enough unflinchin' demeanor +on the Coast to put that boy through the scene. Honest-to-gran'-ma, Luck, +that there Tracy Gray Joyce gits pale, and his Adam's apple pumps up and +down when I come up and smile at him! What color do yuh reckon he'll turn +to when he stands up to me right after me slaying all these innocent +boys—and me a-foamin' at the mouth and gloatin' over the foul deed I've +just did? Say? How's he going to keep that there Adam's apple from +shootin' clean up through his hair, and his knees from wobblin'? How—" +</p> + +<p> +"He won't," said Luck suddenly, with a brightening of his eyes. "He +won't. I hope they do wobble. You go ahead, Bud, and foam at the mouth. +You—you <i>look</i> at Tracy Gray Joyce. Not in the rehearsing, understand; +leave out the foam and the gloating till we turn the camera on the scene. +Sabe? On the quiet, boys." +</p> + +<p> +"Sure," came the guarded chorus. It was remarkable what a complete +understanding there was between Luck and the Happy Family. It was that +complete understanding which had kept Luck's spirits up during his +unloved task of producing Bently Brown stuff in film. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, say!" Big Medicine leaned close and throttled his voice down to a +hoarse whisper. "What kinda hee-ro will your Tracy Gray Joyce look like, +when I start up foamin' and gloatin' at him?" +</p> + +<p> +Luck smiled. "That," he said calmly, "is for the camera to find out." He +was going to say something more on the subject, but some one called to +him anxiously from over toward the office. So he told them <i>adios</i> +hurriedly and went his busy way, and left the Happy Family discussing him +gravely among themselves. +</p> + +<p> +The Happy Family were so interested in this new work that they were ready +to see the bright side even of these weird performances which purported +to be Western drama. If you did not take it seriously, all this violence +of dress and behavior was fun. The Happy Family was slipping into a +rivalry of violence; and the strange part of it was that Luck Lindsay, +stickler for realism, self-confessed enthusiast on the uplifting of +motion pictures to a fine art, permitted their violence,—which was not +as the violence of other, better trained Western actors. The Happy +Family, after their first self-conscious tendency to duck behind +something or somebody, had come to forget the merciless, recording eye of +the camera. They had come to look upon their work as a game, played for +the amusement of Luck Lindsay, who watched them always, and for the open +ridicule of Bently Brown, writer of these tales of blood and heroics. +</p> + +<p> +And Luck not only permitted but encouraged them in this exaggeration,—to +the amazement of the camera man who had turned the crank on more Western +dramas than he could remember. Scenes of violence—such as the saloon row +in which Big Medicine had forgotten that Pink was to be left alive, and +so had killed him twice—made the camera man and the assistant laugh when +they should have shuddered; and to wonder why Luck Lindsay, wholly biased +though he was in favor of the Happy Family, did not seem to realize that +they were not getting the right punch into the pictures. +</p> + +<p> +Luck was not behaving at all in his usual manner with his company. +Evenings, instead of holding himself aloof from his subordinates, he +would head straight for the furnished bungalow which the Flying U boys +had taken possession of, with Rosemary Green to give the home atmosphere +which saved the place from becoming a mere bunk-house de luxe. If he +could possibly manage it, Luck would reach headquarters in time for +dinner—the Happy Family blandly called it supper, of course—and would +proceed to forget the day's irritations while he ate what he ambiguously +called "real cookin'." +</p> + +<p> +There was a fireplace in that bungalow, and a fairly large living-room +surrounding the fireplace. The Happy Family extravagantly indulged +themselves in wood, even at the unbelievable price they must pay for it; +and after supper they would light the fire and hunt up chairs enough, and +roll cigarettes, and talk themselves quite away from the present and into +the past of glowing memory. +</p> + +<p> +The horses they rode—before that fireplace—would have made any +Frontier Day celebration famous enough to be mentioned in the next +encyclopedia published. The herds they took through hard winters and +summer droughts would have made them millionaires all, if they could +only have turned them into flesh-and-blood animals. They talked of +blizzards and of high water and of short grass and of thunderstorms. +They added little touches to the big range picture Luck had planned to +make. Starting off suddenly in this wise: "Say, Luck, why don't you +have—?" and the fires of enthusiasm would flare again in Luck's eyes, +and the talk would grow eager. +</p> + +<p> +But—and here was the key to the remarkable interpretation which Luck +permitted the Happy Family to give the Bently Brown stories—some time +before the evening was too old, Luck would swing the talk around to the +work they were doing. He would pull a Bently Brown scenario from his +pocket and read, with much sarcastic comment, the scenes they were later +to enact. He would incite the Happy Family to poking fun at such lurid +performances as Bently Brown described in all seriousness and in detail. +He would encourage comment and argument and the play of their caustic +imaginations upon the action of the story. He would gradually make them +see the whole thing in the light of a huge joke; he would, without saying +much himself, bring the Happy Family into the mood of wanting to make +Bently Brown appear ridiculous to all beholders. +</p> + +<p> +Is it any wonder, then, if the camera man and the assistants should +exchange puzzled glances when Luck put the Happy Family through their +scenes? Exits and entrances, the essential details of the action, Luck +directed painstakingly, as always he had done. Why, then, said camera man +to assistants, should he let those fellows go in and ball up the dramatic +business and turn whole scenes into farce with their foolery? And why had +he chosen Tracy Gray Joyce as leading man? And that eye-rolling, limp +sentimentalist, Lenore Honiwell, as his leading woman? Luck was known to +despise these two, personally and professionally. They could not, to save +their lives, get through a dramatic scene together without giving the +observers a sickish feeling. To see Tracy Gray Joyce lay his hand upon +the left side of his cravat and cast his eyes upward always made Luck +shiver; yet Tracy Gray Joyce would he have for leading man, and none +other. To see Lenore Honiwell throw back her head, close her eyes, and +heave one of those terrific motion-picture sighs always made the camera +man snort; yet Luck, who before had considered her scarcely worth a civil +bow when he met her, had actually coaxed her away from a director who +really admired her style of acting. +</p> + +<p> +And when Luck, who had always gone about his work impervious to curious +onlookers, suddenly changed his method and ordered all interior sets +screened in, and all bystanders away from the immediate vicinity of his +exterior scenes, the Acme people began to call him "swell-headed"—when +they did not call him worse. Even his excuse that he was working with +boys new to the business and did not want them rattled failed to satisfy +most of them. +</p> + +<p> +The Happy Family, in the tiny, bare dressing rooms which they called +box-stalls in merciless candor, were smearing their faces liberally with +cold cream and still arguing among themselves over the doubtful blessing +of owning as many lives as a cat, and bewailing the bruises they had +received while sacrificing a few of their lives to the blood-lust of Big +Medicine and Pink, the two official, Bently-Brown bad men. Outside their +two connecting "stalls" a fine drizzle was making the studio yard an +empty place of churchyard gloom and incidentally justifying Luck in +quitting so early. Big Medicine was swabbing paint from his eyebrows and +bellowing his opinion of a man that will keep a-comin', by cripes, after +he's shot the third time at close range, and then kick because he takes +so much killing off. This was aimed at the Native Son, who had evidently +died hard, and who meant to retaliate as soon as he got that dab of paint +out of his eye. But the door opened violently against his person and +startled him into forgetting his next observation. +</p> + +<p> +This was Luck, and he had the look of a man who owns a guilty secret, and +is ready to be rather proud of his guilt,—providing society consents to +wink at it with him. He was not smiling, exactly; he had a wicked kind of +twinkle in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"Hurry up, boys! My Lord, how you fellows do primp and jangle in here! +They're going to run our first picture, <i>The Soul of Littlefoot Law</i>. +Don't you fel—" +</p> + +<p> +"The which?" Big Medicine whirled upon him, rubbing his left eye into a +terrifying, bloodshot condition while he glared with the other. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>The Soul of Littlefoot Law</i>," Luck repeated distinctly with a perfect +neutrality of manner. +</p> + +<p> +"'S that what you call all that ridin' and shootin' we done, that you +said was by moonlight?" Pink inquired pugnaciously—for a young man who +had died the death four different times that day. +</p> + +<p> +"That's what it's called," Luck averred with firmness. +</p> + +<p> +"Aw—where does Soul of Littlefoot Law come in at?" Happy Jack scoffed. +</p> + +<p> +"It doesn't, so far as I know." +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, there ain't no sense in such a name as that. Is that where I got +shot off'n my horse, and Bud, here, done his best to run over me?" +</p> + +<p> +"That's the one. My Lord, boys, how long does it take you fellows to get +your make-up off? They'll have the film run and passed and released and +out on the five-cent circuit on its fifteenth round before you—" Luck, +director though he was, found it wise to pass out quickly and hold the +door shut behind him for a minute. "Honest, boys, you want to hurry," he +called through the closed door. He waited until the sounds within +indicated that they were hurrying quite violently, and then he went his +way; and he still had the look in his eyes of one who bears in his soul a +secret guilt of which he is inclined to be proud. +</p> + +<p> +When the Acme people gathered resignedly in the private projection room, +however, Luck's wicked little twinkle had turned a shade anxious. He +excused himself from the chair between Martinson and Mollie Ryan, the +stenographer, and went over to confer with the Happy Family and the dried +little man who kept clannishly together as usual, and he forgot to return +to his place. +</p> + +<p> +The Acme people, personally and individually, were sick and tired of all +motion pictures that did not portray with vividness the beauty or the +talents of themselves, or the faults of their acquaintances. No Acme +people, save Lenore Honiwell and Tracy Gray Joyce and a phlegmatic +character woman, were in this picture at all. The camera man who took it +did not think highly of it and considered the wonderful photography as +good as wasted, and he had said as much—and more—to his intimates. +Beckitt, Luck's assistant, had privately announced it as the rottenest +piece of cheese he had ever seen under a Wild-West label, and disclaimed +all responsibility. They of the cutting and trimming clan had not said +anything at all. Martinson, having heard the rumors, felt that they +confirmed his own suspicion that Luck had made a big blunder in bringing +those cowboys into the company. They were not actors. They did not +pretend to be actors. +</p> + +<p> +You will see that it was a critical audience indeed that gathered there +in the projection room that rainy afternoon to see the trial run of <i>The +Soul of the Littlefoot Law</i>. It would take a good deal to win any +approbation from that bunch. +</p> + +<p> +And then they were looking at the first scene, which Was a night in +Whoopalong, the fake town over there beyond the big stage. The Happy +Family, all disguised as cowboys, came surging out of the darkness. +H-m-m. That was the bunch that Luck Lindsay had done so much bragging +about, and called "real boys," was it? silently commented the audience. +No different from any other cowboys, as far as any one could see. +</p> + +<p> +True, they used about half the usual amount of film footage in getting to +foreground; probably underspeeded the camera,—an old, old trick which +has helped to put the dash and ginger into many a poor horseman's act. +</p> + +<p> +But the "XY cowboys" certainly surged up to foreground, and it was seen +that they rode with reins in their teeth, and that each and every man +fired two huge six-shooters straight up at the moon every time their +horses hit the ground with forefeet. The Happy Family leaned forward and +craned around the heads of those in front that they might see all of it. +Luck had told them before making this scene to "eat 'em alive," and the +Happy Family had very nearly done so. Andy Green nudged his wife, +Rosemary, and whispered hurriedly that this was where the camera man had +pulled up his tripod by the roots and beat it, thinking he was going to +be run over; and that was why the scene was cut unexpectedly just where +Andy set his horse on its haunches and posed, a heroic figure of a cowboy +rampant, immediately before the lens. +</p> + +<p> +Luck, glancing hurriedly to right and left, slid down and rested the nape +of his neck on the back of his chair, slipped a fresh stick of gum +between his teeth, hung his hat on his knee, and prepared to view his +work with critical mind and impartial, and with his conscience like his +body at ease. The thing had certainly started off with zip enough, since +zip was what Mart claimed the Public demanded. +</p> + +<p> +The next scene was a continuation of the one before,—the camera man +having evidently recovered himself and gotten to work again. The Happy +Family, still surging and still shooting two guns apiece at the pale +moon, were shown entering the saloon door four abreast and with the rest +crowding for place. Still there was zip; all kinds of zip. The Happy +Family nudged and grinned in the dusk and were very much pleased with +themselves as XY cowboys seeking mild entertainment in town. +</p> + +<p> +Some one behind remarked upon the surging and the shooting, and Big +Medicine turned his head quickly and sent a hoarse stage whisper in the +general direction of the mumble. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah-h, that there ain't anything! Luck never let us turn ourselves loose +there a-tall. You wait, by cripes, till yuh see us where we git warmed up +and strung out proper! You wait! Honest to gran'—" It was Luck's elbow +that stopped him by the simple expedient of cutting off his wind. Big +Medicine gave a grunt and said no more. +</p> + +<p> +Thereafter, the Happy Family discovered that there was a certain +continuity in the barbaric performances in which Luck had grinningly +encouraged them to indulge themselves. They beheld themselves engaged in +various questionable enterprises, and they laughed in naïve enjoyment as +certain bloodcurdling traits in their characters were depicted with +startling vividness. Accented by make-up and magnified on the screen, the +goggling, frog-like ugliness of Big Medicine became like unto ogres of +childish memory; his smile was a thing to make one's back hair stand up +with a cold, prickling sensation. Happy Jack stared at himself and his +exaggerated awkwardness incredulously, with a sheepish grin of +appreciation. The rest of them watched and missed no slightest gesture. +</p> + +<p> +So they saw the plot of Bently Brown unfold, scene by scene; unfold in +violence and malevolent intrigue and zip and much fighting. Also unfolded +something of which Bently Brown had never dreamed; something which the +audience, though greeting it with laughter, failed at first to recognize +for what it was worth, because every one knew all about the Bently-Brown +Western dramas, and every one believed that they were to be made after +the usual recipe more elaborately stirred. So every one had been +chortling through several scenes before the significance of their +laughter occurred to them. +</p> + +<p> +Comedy—that was it. Comedy, that had slipped in with cap and bells +just when the door was flung open for black-robed Tragedy. But it was +too late to stop laughing when they discovered the trick. They saw it +now, in the very sub-titles which Luck had twisted impishly into sly +humor that pointed to the laugh, in the deeds of blood that followed. +They saw it in the goggling ferocity of Big Medicine; in the +innocent-eyed, dimpled fiendishness of Pink; in the lank awkwardness of +Happy Jack. They saw it in the sentimental mannerisms of Lenore +Honiwell, whose sickish emotionalism slipped pat into the burlesque. +They rocked in their seats at the heroics of Tracy Gray Joyce, who +could never again be taken seriously, since Luck had tagged him +mercilessly as an unconscious comedian. +</p> + +<p> +Oh, yes, there was zip to the picture! But there was no explanation of +the title. <i>The Soul of Littlefoot Law</i> remained as great a mystery when +the picture was finished as it had been at the start. Littlefoot Law, by +the way, was Pink. That much the audience discovered, and no more; for as +to his soul, he did not seem to own one. +</p> + +<p> +Luck, still hunched down so that his back hair rubbed against his chair +back, was laughing with his jaws wide apart and his fine teeth still +gleaming in the half darkness, when Ted, general errand boy at the +office, came straddling over intervening laps and laid a compelling hand +on his shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +"Say, Luck," he whispered excitedly, "the audience author's with Mart, +and they both want t' see you. And, say, I guess you're in Dutch, all +right; the author's awful mad, and so is Mart. But say, no matter what +they do to you, Luck, take it from me, that pit'cher's a humdinger! I +like to died a-laughing!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER SEVEN +<br><br> +BENTLY BROWN DOES NOT APPRECIATE COMEDY +</h3> + +<p> +Luck unhooked his hat from his knee, brought his laughing jaws together +with that eloquent, downward tilt to the corners of his mouth, sat up +straight, considered swiftly the possibilities of the next half hour, and +paid tribute in one expressive word of four letters before he went +crawling over half a dozen pairs of knees to do battle for his picture. +His picture, you understand. For since he had made it irresistible comedy +instead of very mediocre drama, he felt all the pride of creation in his +work. That was his picture that had set the Acme people laughing,—they +who had come to carp and to talk knowingly of continuity and of technique +and dramatic values, and to criticize everything from the sets to the +photography. It was his picture; he had made it what it was. So he went +as a champion rather than as a culprit to face the powers above him. +</p> + +<p> +Martinson and Bently Brown were waiting for him near the door. They were +not going to stay and see the next picture run, and that, in Luck's +opinion, was a bad-weather sign. But he came up to them cheerfully, +turning his hat in his fingers to find the front of it before he set it +on his head. (These limp, wool, knockabout hats are always more or less +confusing, and Luck was fastidious about his apparel.) +</p> + +<p> +"Ah—Mr. Brown, this is Mr. Lindsay, ah—director who is producing your +stories." Martinson's tone was as neutral as he could make it. +</p> + +<p> +Luck said that he was glad to meet Mr. Brown, which was a lie. At the +same instant he found the stitched-down bow on his hat, and from there +felt his way to the front. At the same time he decided that there was +going to be something doing presently, if Mart's manner meant anything at +all. Mart was a peaceable soul, and in the approaching crisis Luck knew +he would climb hurriedly upon the fence of neutrality and stay there; and +Luck could fight or climb a tree as he chose. +</p> + +<p> +They went outside, and Luck turned his eyes sidewise and took a look at +Bently Brown. He measured him mentally from pigskin puttees to rakish, +stiff brimmed Stetson with careful dimples in the crown and a leather +hatband stamped with horses' heads and his initials. In a picture, Luck +would have cast Bently Brown, costume and all, for a comedy mining +engineer or something of that sort. You know the type: He arrives on the +stage that is held up, and is always in the employ of the monied octopus, +and the cowboys who pursue and capture the bandits have fun afterwards +with the engineer,—so much fun that he crawls out of an up-stairs window +in the night and departs hastily and forever from that place. You are +perfectly familiar with the character, I am sure. +</p> + +<p> +Luck, after that swift, comprehensive glance, was not greatly alarmed. In +that he made his greatest blunder. He should have reckoned with the +wounded vanity of the little author who believes himself great. He should +have reminded himself that Bently Brown was not a comedy mining engineer, +but that touchiest of all mortals, the nearly successful author. He +should have taken warning from the stiff-necked, stiff-backed gait of +Bently Brown on the short walk to the office. He should have read danger +in the blinking lids of his pale eyes, and in his self-conscious manner +of looking straight before him. +</p> + +<p> +In the office, then, luck basely deserted one Luck Lindsay, and left him +to fight a losing battle. For Bently Brown was incensed, insulted, and +outraged over the manner in which <i>The Soul of Littlefoot Law</i> had been +filmed. The story had been caricatured out of all semblance to its +original self. Littlefoot Law had been shown as having no soul whatever. +Instead of being permitted to make the final, supreme sacrifice of his +life for the honor of his enemy,—which would have revealed to the +audience his possession of a clean white soul in spite of his bad +character,—he had been made out a little fiend who would shoot you on +the slightest provocation. The girl had been thrust into the background, +and the hero had been made into a coward and a paltry villain; they were +all desperadoes upon the screen. Never in his life had Bently Brown been +made to suffer such an affront. Never had he dreamed that his work would +be made a thing to laugh at— +</p> + +<p> +"They certainly did laugh," Luck lazily interrupted. "And believe me, Mr. +Brown, it takes real stuff to collect a laugh out of that bunch. It will +be a riot with the public; you can bank on that. By the time I get a few +more made and released, you can expect to see your name in the papers +without paying advertising rates." Whatever possessed Luck to talk that +way to Bently Brown, I cannot say. He surely must have seen that the +little, over-costumed author was choking with spleen. +</p> + +<p> +"It was a farce!" The small, yellow mustache of Bently Brown was +twitching comically with the tremble of his lips beneath. "A bald, +unmitigated farce!" +</p> + +<p> +"Surest thing you know," Luck agreed, with that little chuckle of his. +"At first I was afraid the crowd wouldn't get it; I didn't know but they +might try to take it seriously. Now, I know for certain that it will get +over. It will be the cleanest, funniest, farce-comedy series that has +ever been filmed." Luck sat up straight and pulled a cigar from his +pocket and looked at it absent-mindedly. "Say, those boys of mine are +certainly real ones! I wouldn't trade that bunch for the highest-salaried +actors you could hand me. Do you know what made that picture such a +scream? It was because there wasn't a bit of made-to-order comedy +business in the whole film. Those boys didn't think about acting funny +just to make folks laugh. They were so doggoned busy having fun with the +story and showing up its weak points that they forgot to be +self-conscious. If I'd had a regular comedy company working on it, +believe me, Mr. Brown, it might have turned out almost as rotten a farce +as it would be as a drama!" +</p> + +<p> +Had Bently Brown owned under his pink skin any of the primitive instincts +which he was so fond of portraying in his characters, he would have +killed Luck without any further argument or delay. +</p> + +<p> +Instead of that he spluttered and stormed like a scolding woman. He +lifted first one puttee and then the other, and he shook his fist, and +he nodded his head violently, and finally was constrained to lift the +leather-banded Stetson from his blond hair and wipe the perspiration +from his brow with a lavender initialed handkerchief. He said a great +deal in a very few minutes, but it was too involved, too incoherent to +be repeated here. Luck gathered, however, that he meant to sue the Acme +Company for about nine million dollars damages to his feelings and his +reputation, if <i>The Soul of Littlefoot Law</i> was released in its present +form. He battered at Luck's grinning composure with his full supply of +invectives. When he perceived that Luck's eyes twinkled more and more +while they watched him, and that Luck's smile was threatening to +explode into laughter, Bently Brown shook his fist at the two of them, +shrilled something about seeing his lawyer at once, and went out and +slammed the door. +</p> + +<p> +"Lor-dee! He'd make a hit in comedy, that fellow," Luck observed +placidly, and lighted the cigar he had been holding. "What's he mean—' +sue the company'?" +</p> + +<p> +"He means sue the company," Martinson retorted grimly. "That clause in +the contract where we agree to produce his stories in a manner befitting +the quality and fame of these several stories in fiction; he's got +grounds for action there, and he's going to make the most of it. He's +sore, anyway. Some one's been telling him he practically made us a +present of his stuff." +</p> + +<p> +"Hell!" said Luck. "Why didn't you say so?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why didn't you say that you were turning that stuff into farce-comedy?" +Martinson came back sharply. "I could have told you it wouldn't get by. I +knew Brown wouldn't stand for anything like that; and I knew he could put +the gaff into us on that 'manner befitting' clause." +</p> + +<p> +"It's a wonder you wouldn't have jarred loose from some of that wisdom," +Luck observed tartly. "You never gave me any dope at all on this Bently +Brown person. You handed me the junk he stung you on—and believe me, as +drama he'd have stung you with it as a present!—you handed it to me to +film. I made the most of it." +</p> + +<p> +"You made a mess of it," Martinson corrected peevishly. +</p> + +<p> +"You laughed," Luck pointed out laconically. Then his eyes twinkled +suddenly. "'Laugh and the world laughs with you,'" he quoted shamelessly, +and took a long, satisfying suck at his cigar. +</p> + +<p> +"The world won't step up and pay damages to Bently Brown," Martinson +reminded him, "if that picture is released as it stands. How many have +you made, so far?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm finishing the third; getting funnier, too, as they go along." +</p> + +<p> +"You've got to cut out that funny business. You'll have to retake this +whole thing, Luck; make it straight drama. We can't afford a lawsuit, +these hard times—and injunctions tying up the releases, and damages to +pay when the thing's thrashed out in court. You'll have to retake this +whole picture. Nice bunch of useless expense, I must say, when I've +been chasing nickels off the expense account of this company and +sitting up nights nursing profits! We'll have to cut salaries now, to +break even on this fluke. I've left the payroll alone so far. That's +the worst of a break like this. The whole company has got to pay for +every blunder from now on." +</p> + +<p> +Luck's eyes hardened while he listened. He did not call his work a +blunder, and the charge did not sit well coming from another. +</p> + +<p> +"Buy off Bently Brown," he advised crisply. "Offer him a new contract, +naming this stuff as comedy. Advertise them as the famous comedies of +Bently Brown, the well-known author. Show him some good publicity dope +along that line. Give him the credit of making the stories live ones. +This series will be a money-maker, and a big one, if ever they reach the +screen. You're old enough in the business to know that, Mart. You saw how +this film hit the bunch, and you know what it takes to rouse any +enthusiasm in the projection room. And take it from me, Mart—this is +straight!—that's the only way in God's world to make that series take +hold at all. As drama the stuff is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. It's +only by giving it the twist I gave it that it will get over. You do that, +Mart. You kid this Bently Brown into being featured as the humorist of +the age, and pay him a little something for swallowing his disappointment +as a dramatic author. I'll go ahead with my boys, and we'll deliver the +goods. You do that, and you'll be setting up nights counting profits +instead of nursing them!" +</p> + +<p> +Martinson began to stir up the litter on his desk,—another bad-weather +sign. "I can't waste time talking nonsense," he snapped. "I've got plenty +to do without that. That stuff has got to be retaken; every foot of it, +if you've gone on burlesquing the action. I happen to know that Brown +wouldn't consider such a compromise. You've made a bad break, and I +believe you made the first one when you brought that bunch of cowboys +back with you. If they can do straight dramatic acting, all right; if +not, you'd better let them out and start over with professionals." +</p> + +<p> +For a peaceable man, Martinson was angry. He had taken some trouble in +smoothing down the ruffled temper of Bently Brown, even before viewing +the trial run of the picture. Martinson hated disputes as a cat hates to +walk in fresh-fallen snow, and the parting tirade of Bently Brown had +affected him unpleasantly. +</p> + +<p> +For a full two minutes Luck smoked and did not speak, and as he had done +once before, Martinson repented his harshness when it was too late. +"Personally, your version struck me as awfully funny," he began +placatingly. +</p> + +<p> +"Who gives a cuss how it struck you personally?" Luck stood up with +unexpected haste. "You trim and truckle to every one that comes along +with a gold brick, and that's why you have to sit up nights to nurse the +profits. If you had a little stiffening in your back, the profits would +show up better. You paid good money for this bunch of rot, and turned it +over to me to whip into a profitable investment. You can make the rounds +of the studio and get a vote on whether I've done it or not. Put it up to +your Public; they'll mighty soon let you know whether the film's a +money-getter. If it is, your business as general manager and president of +the Acme Film Company is to get Bently Brown in line for the production +to go on. A clause such as you mention in the agreement with him shows a +bigger blunder on your part than anything I've done or ever will do. If +you'd had as much sense as Ted, you'd have kept that clause out. If you'd +had half as much brains as the comedy burro out in the corral you'd never +have loaded up with that stuff, anyway; you'd have seen at a glance that +it was rotten. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, I've shown what I can do with those stories. I've taken your bad +bargain and put it into a money-making shape. As to the break I made in +getting those boys out here, you'll have to show me—that's all. They +seem, to have made good all right, judging from the way that film took +with the crowd. And if you ask my opinion as a director, they beat any +near-professional on the Acme pay roll. My work, and their work, goes +right along as it has started—or it stops. If you want those stories +worked up in a lot of darned, sickly, slush melodrama, you can set some +simp at it that don't know any better." Luck stopped and shut his teeth +together against some personal remarks that he would later feel ashamed +of having uttered. He turned to the door, swallowed hard, and forced +himself to a dignified calm before he spoke again. +</p> + +<p> +"You know my phone number, Mart. By seven in the morning I'll expect to +hear from you. You can tell me then whether I'm to go ahead with these +stories the way I've started, or whether to pull out of the Company +altogether. One or the other. I'll want to know in the morning." Then +he went out. +</p> + +<p> +"Dammit, who's running this company—you or I?" Martinson called +after him heatedly. But Luck was already standing on the steps and +hoisting his umbrella against the drizzle, and he did not give any +sign that he heard. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER EIGHT +<br><br> +"THERE'S GOT TO BE A LINE DRAWED SOMEWHERES" +</h3> + +<p> +By seven o'clock in the morning,—since that was his ultimatum,—Luck +was standing in his bare feet and pajamas, acrimoniously arguing with +Martinson over the telephone. Usually he was up at six, but he was a +stubborn young man, and the day promised much rainfall, anyway. He +would have preferred sunshine; the stand he meant to take would have +had more weight in working weather. But since he could not prevent the +morning from being a rainy one, he permitted more determination to slip +into his tones. +</p> + +<p> +Martinson had spent an unpleasant evening with Bently Brown, or so he +declared. He had called up several stockholders of the Acme, and had +talked the matter over with them, and— +</p> + +<p> +"Well, cut the preamble, Mart," snapped Luck, trying to warm one foot by +rubbing it with the other one. "Do I go on with the work, or don't I?" +</p> + +<p> +"From the looks of the weather—" Mart began to temporize. +</p> + +<p> +"Weather cuts no figure with this matter. You know what I mean. What's +the decision?" Luck scowled at the pretty girl on his wall calendar, and +began to rub his right foot with the left and to curse the janitor with +that part of his brain not occupied with the conversation. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, listen. You come out to the office, after awhile, and we'll go +into this matter calmly," begged Martinson. "No use in letting that +temper of yours run away with you, Luck. You know we all—" +</p> + +<p> +"What did Bently Brown say? Did you put the proposition up to him as I +suggested?" +</p> + +<p> +"Luck, you know I told you Brown wouldn't consider—" +</p> + +<p> +"Say, Mart, get all those rambling words out of your system, and then +call me up and tell me what I want to know!" And Luck hung up the +receiver and went shivering back to bed. From the things he said to +himself, he was letting that temper of his run away with him in spite of +Martinson's warning. +</p> + +<p> +He had just ceased having spasms of shivering, and had found his warm +nest of the night, and was feeling glad that it was raining so that he +could stay in bed as long as he liked, when the phone jingled shrilly +again. Had he been certain that it was Martinson, Luck would have lain +there and let it ring itself tired. But there is always the doubt when a +telephone bell calls peremptorily. He waited sulkily until the girl at +the switchboard in the office below settled down to prolong the siege. +Luck knew that girl would never quit now that she was sure he was in. He +crawled out again, this time dragging the bedspread with him for drapery. +</p> + +<p> +"H'l-lo!" There was no compromise in his voice, which was guttural. +</p> + +<p> +"Luck? This is Martinson. You are to retake all of the Bently Brown +pictures which you have made so far, under the personal supervision of +Bently Brown himself, who will pass upon all film before accepted by the +company. This is final." +</p> + +<p> +"Martinson? This is Luck. You and Bently Brown and the Acme Film Company +can go where the heat's never turned off. This is final." +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon Luck slammed the receiver into its brackets, trailed over to a +table and gleaned "the makings" from among the litter of papers, +programs, "stills," and letters, and rolled himself a much-needed smoke. +He was sorry chiefly because he had been compelled to use such mild +language over the telephone. It would be almost worth a trip to the +office just to tell Martinson without stint what he thought of him and +all his works. +</p> + +<p> +He crawled back into bed and smoked his cigarette with due regard for the +bedclothes, and wondered what kind of a fool they took him for if they +imagined for one minute that he would produce so much as a sub-title +under the personal supervision of Bently Brown. +</p> + +<p> +After awhile it occurred to him that, unless he relented from his final +statement to Martinson, he was a young man out of a job, but that did not +worry him much. Of course, if he left the Acme Company, he would have to +look around for an opening somewhere else, where he could take his Happy +Family and maybe produce.... +</p> + +<p> +Right there Luck got up and unlocked his trunk, which was also his chest +of treasures, and found the carbon copy of his range scenario. He had +not named it yet. In thinking of it and in talking about it with the +boys he had been content to call it his Big Picture. If he could place +himself and his Big Picture and his boys with some company that would +appreciate the value of the combination, his rupture with the Acme +Company would be simply a bit of good luck. While he huddled close to +the radiator that was beginning to hiss and rumble encouragingly, he +glanced rapidly over the meagerly described scenes which were to his +imagination so full of color. +</p> + +<p> +"Pam. bleak mesa—snow—cattle drifting before wind. Dale and Johnny dis. +riding to foreground. Reg. cold—horses leg-weary—boys all in—" +</p> + +<p> +To Luck, sitting there in his pajamas as close as he could get to a +slow-warming steam radiator, those curtailed sentences projected his +mental self into a land of cold and snow and biting wind, where the +cattle drifted dismally before the storm. Andy Green and Miguel Rapponi +were riding slowly toward him on shuffling horses as bone-weary as their +masters. Snow was packed in the wrinkles of the boys' clothing. Snow was +packed in the manes and tails of the horses that moved with their heads +drooping in utter dejection. "Boys all in," said the script laconically. +Luck, staring at the little thread of escaping steam from the radiator +valve, saw Andy and the Native Son drooping in the saddles, swaying +stiffly with the movements of their mounts. He saw them to the last +little detail,—to the drift of snow on their hatbrims and the tiny +icicles clinging to the high collars of their sourdough coats, where +their breath had frozen. +</p> + +<p> +If he could get a company to let him put that on, he would not care, he +told himself, if he never made another picture in his life. If he could +get a company to send him and the boys where that stuff could be found— +</p> + +<p> +Well, it was only eight o'clock in the morning, a rainy morning at that, +when all good movie people would lie late in bed for the pure luxury of +taking their ease. But Luck, besides acting upon strong convictions and +then paying the price without whimpering, never let an impulse grow stale +from want of use. He reached for the fat telephone directory and searched +out the numbers of those motion-picture companies which he did not +remember readily. Then, beginning at the first number on his hastily +compiled list, he woke five different managers out of their precious +eight-o'clock sleep to answer his questions. +</p> + +<p> +Whatever they may have thought of Luck Lindsay just then, they replied +politely, and did not tell him offhand that there was no possible opening +for him in their companies. Three of them made appointments with him at +their offices. One promised to call him up just as soon as he "had a line +on anything." One said that, with the rainy weather coming on, they were +cutting down to straight studio stuff, but that he would keep Luck in +mind if anything turned up. +</p> + +<p> +Then I suppose the whole five called him names behind his back, +figuratively speaking, for being such an early riser on such a day. Not +one of them asked him any questions about his reasons for leaving the +Acme; reasons, in the motion-picture business, are generally invented +upon demand and have but a fictitious value at best. And since it is +never a matter of surprise when any director or any member of any company +decides to try a new field, it would seem that change is one of the most +unchanging features of the business. +</p> + +<p> +Luck had no qualms of conscience, either for his treatment of Martinson +and his overtures, or for his disturbances of five other perfectly +inoffensive movie managers. He dressed with mechanical precision and with +his mind shuttling back and forth from his Big Picture to the +possibilities of his next position. He folded his scenario and placed it +in a long envelope, hunted until he found his rubbers, took his raincoat +over his arm and his umbrella in his hand, and went blithely to the +elevator. It was too stormy for his machine, so he caught a street car +and went straight to the bungalow where the Happy Family were still +snoring at peace with the world and each other. +</p> + +<p> +Still Luck had no qualms of conscience. He lingered in the kitchen just +long enough to say howdy to Rosemary Green who was anxiously watching a +new and much admired coffee percolator "to see if it were going to perk," +she told him gravely. He assured Rosemary that he had come all the way +out there in the hope of being invited to breakfast. Then he went into a +sleep-charged atmosphere and gave a real, old-time range yell. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, I saw that peaked little person with Mr. Martinson," Mrs. Andy +remarked slightingly at the breakfast table. "Was that Bently Brown? +And he has the nerve to want to stand around and boss you—oh, find, me +an umbrella, somebody! I shall choke if I can't go and tell him to his +silly, pink face what a conceited little idiot he is!" (You will see +why it was that Rosemary Green had been adopted without question as a +member of the Happy Family.) "I hope you told him straight out, Luck +Lindsay, that these boys would simply tear him limb from limb if he +ever dared to butt in on your work. Why, it's you that made the picture +fit to look at!" +</p> + +<p> +Luck let his eyes thank her for her loyalty, and held out his empty cup +for more coffee. "I came out," he drawled quietly, "to find out what you +fellows are going to do about it. Of course, they'll get somebody else to +go ahead with the stuff, and you boys can stay with it—" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, say! Did you come away out here in the rain to insult us fellers?" +Big Medicine roared suddenly from the foot of the table. "I'll take a lot +from you, but by cripes they's got to be a line drawed somewheres!" +</p> + +<p> +"You bet. And right there's where we draw it, Luck," spoke up the dried +little man who seldom spoke at the table, but concentrated his attention +upon the joy of eating what Mrs. Andy set before him. "I come out here +to work for you. That peters out, by gorry I'll go back to chufferin a +baggage truck in Sioux, North Dakoty. Kin I have a drop more coffee, +Mrs. Green?" +</p> + +<p> +While Rosemary proudly brought her new percolator in from the kitchen and +refilled his cup, Luck Lindsay sat and endured the greatest +tongue-lashing of his life. Furthermore, he seemed to enjoy the chorus of +reproaches and threats and recriminations. He chuckled over the eloquence +of Andy Green, and he grinned at the belligerence of Pink and the +melancholy of Happy Jack. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't guess you're crazy to work under Bently Brown," he finally +managed to slide into the uproar. "Do I get you as meaning to stick with +me—wherever I go?" +</p> + +<p> +"You get us that way or you get licked," Weary, the mild-tempered one, +stated flatly. "You can fire us and send us home, but you can't walk off +and leave us with the Acme, 'cause we won't stay." +</p> + +<p> +That was what Luck had ridden twelve cold, rainy miles to hear the Happy +Family declare. He had expected them to take that stand, but it was good +to hear it spoken in just that tone of finality. He stacked his cup and +saucer in his plate, laid his knife and fork across them in the old range +style, and began to roll a cigarette,—smoking at the table being another +comfortable little bad habit which Rosemary Green wisely and smilingly +permitted. +</p> + +<p> +"That being the case," he began cheerfully, "you boys had best go over +with me now and give in your two weeks' notice. I'm director of our +company till I quit—see? I'll arrange for your transportation home—" +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, gwan! Who said we was goin' home?" wailed Happy Jack distressfully. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, listen! You're entitled to your transportation money. That doesn't +mean you'll have to use it for that purpose—sabe? It's coming to you, +and you get it. There's a week's salary due all around, too, besides the +two weeks you'll get by giving notice. No use passing up any bets like +that. So let's go, boys. I've got an appointment at one o'clock, and I +may as well wipe the Acme slate clean this forenoon, so I can talk +business without any come-back from Mart, or any tag ends to pick up. +Grab your slickers and let's move." +</p> + +<p> +That was a busy day for Luck Lindsay, in spite of the fact that it was a +stormy one. His interview with Mart, which he endured mostly for the sake +of the Happy Family, developed into a quarrel which severed beyond +mending his connection with the Acme. +</p> + +<p> +It was noon when he reached his hotel, and his wrath had not cooled with +the trip into town. There were two 'phone calls in his mail, he +discovered, and one bore an urgent request that he call Hollywood +something-or-other the moment he returned. This was from the Great +Western Film Company, and Luck's eyes brightened while he read it. He +went straight to his room and called up the Great Western. +</p> + +<p> +Presently he found himself speaking to the great Dewitt himself, and his +blood was racing with the possibilities of the interview. Dewitt had +heard that Luck was leaving the Acme—extras may be depended upon for +carrying gossip from one studio to another,—and was wasting no time in +offering him a position. His Western director, Robert Grant Burns whom +Luck knew well, had been carried to the hospital with typhoid fever which +he had contracted while out with his company in what is known as Nigger +Sloughs,—a locality more picturesque than healthful. Dewitt feared that +it was going to be a long illness at the very best. Would Luck consider +taking the company and going on with the big five-reel feature which +Burns had just begun? Dewitt was prepared to offer special inducements +and to make the position a permanent one. He would give Burns a dramatic +company to produce features at the studio, he said, and would give Luck +the privilege of choosing his own scenarios and producing them in his own +way. Could Luck arrange to meet Dewitt at four that afternoon? +</p> + +<p> +Luck could, by cancelling his appointment with a smaller and less +important company, which he did promptly and with no compunctions +whatever. He did more than that; he postponed the other two appointments, +knowing in his heart that his chances would not be lessened thereby. +After that he built a castle or two while he waited for the appointment. +The Great Western Company had been a step higher than he had hoped to +reach. Robert Grant Burns he had considered a fixture with the company. +It had never entered his mind that he might possibly land within the +Great Western's high concrete wall,—and that other wall which was higher +and had fewer gates, and which was invisible withal. That the great +Dewitt himself should seek Luck out was just a bit staggering. He wanted +to go out and tell the bunch about it, but he decided to wait until +everything was settled. Most of all he wanted the Acme to know that +Dewitt wanted him; that would be a real slap in the face of Mart's +judgment, a vindication of Luck's abilities as a director. +</p> + +<p> +What Luck did was to telephone the hospital and learn all he could about +Burns' condition. He was genuinely sorry that Burns was sick, even though +he was mightily proud of being chosen as Burns' successor. He even found +himself thinking more about Burns, after the first inner excitement wore +itself out, than about himself. Burns was a good old scout. Luck hated to +think of him lying helpless in the grip of typhoid. So it was with mixed +emotions that he went to see Dewitt. +</p> + +<p> +Dewitt wanted Luck—wanted him badly. He was frank enough to let Luck see +how much he wanted him. He even told Luck that, all things being equal, +he considered Luck a better Western director than was Robert Grant Burns, +in spite of the fact that Burns had scored a big success with his <i>Jean, +of the Lazy A</i> serial. You cannot wonder that Luck's spirits rose to +buoyancy when he heard that. Also, Dewitt named a salary bigger than Luck +had ever received in his life, and nearly double what the Acme had paid +him. Luck spoke of his Big Picture, and when he outlined it briefly, +Dewitt did not say that it seemed to lack action. +</p> + +<p> +Dewitt had watched Luck with his keen blue eyes, and had observed that +Luck owned that priceless element of success, which is enthusiasm for his +work. Dewitt had listened, and had told Luck that he would like to see +the Big Picture go on the screen, and that he would be willing to pay him +for the scenario and let him make it where and how he pleased. He even +volunteered to try and persuade Jean Douglas, of <i>Lazy A</i> fame, to come +back and play the leading woman's part. +</p> + +<p> +"That's one thing that has been bothering me a little," Luck owned +gratefully. "Of course I considered her absolutely out of reach. But with +her for my leading woman, and the boys holding up the range end as +they're capable of doing—" +</p> + +<p> +Dewitt gave him a quick look. "Yes, my boys are able to do that," he said +distinctly. "They have been well trained in Western dramatic work." +</p> + +<p> +Luck braced himself. "When I mentioned the boys," he said, "I meant +my boys that I brought from the Flying U outfit, up in Montana. They +go with me." +</p> + +<p> +Dewitt did not answer that statement immediately. He inspected his finger +nails thoughtfully before he glanced up. "It's a pity, but I'm afraid +that cannot be managed, Mr. Lindsay. The boys in my Western company have +been with me, some of them, since the Independent Sales Company was +organized. They worked for next to nothing till I got things started. Two +or three are under contracts. You will understand me when I say that my +boys must stay where they are." He waited for a minute, and watched +Luck's face grow sober. "I have heard about your Happy Family," he added. +"There has been a good deal of discussion, I imagine, among the studios +about them. Ordinarily I should be glad to have you bring those boys with +you; but as matters stand, it is impossible. Our Western Company is full, +and I could not let these boys go to make room for strangers,—however +good those strangers might be. You understand?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly I understand." But Luck's face did not brighten. +</p> + +<p> +"Can't they stay on with the Acme? From what I hear, the Acme's Western +Company is not large at best." +</p> + +<p> +"They can stay, yes. But they won't. The whole bunch gave in their +two weeks' notice this morning." There was a grim satisfaction in +Luck's tone. +</p> + +<p> +"Left when you did, I suppose?" +</p> + +<p> +"That's just exactly what they did. I told them they better stay, and +they nearly lynched me for it." +</p> + +<p> +"Have you made any agreement with them in regard to placing them with +another company—for instance?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly not. Some things don't have to be set down in black and +white." +</p> + +<p> +"I—see." Dewitt did see. What he saw worried him, even though it +increased his respect for Luck Lindsay. He studied his nails more +critically than before. +</p> + +<p> +"These boys—have they any resources at all, other than their work in +pictures? Did they burn their bridges when they came with you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, far as that goes, they've all got ranches. They wouldn't starve." +Luck's voice was inclined to gruffness under quizzing. +</p> + +<p> +"As I see the situation," Dewitt went on evenly and with a logic that +made Luck squirm with its very truthfulness, "they left their ranches and +came with you to work in pictures in a spirit of adventure, we might say. +There is a glamour; and your personal influence, your enthusiasm, had its +effect. Should they go back to their ranches now, they would carry back a +fresh outlook and a fund of experiences that would season conversation +agreeably for months to come. They will not have lost financially, I take +it. They will have had a vacation which has in many ways been a +profitable one. Should the question be laid before them, I venture the +assertion that they would urge you to take this position with us. +</p> + +<p> +"They would feel some disappointment of course—just as you would feel +sorry not to be able to bring them with you. But no reasonable man would +blame you or expect you to bear the handicap of six or seven +inexperienced young fellows. You must see that your only hope of placing +them would be with some new company just starting up. And this is not the +season for young companies. Next spring you might stand a better chance." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, that's all true enough," Luck admitted, since Dewitt plainly +expected some reply. "At the same time—" +</p> + +<p> +"There is no immediate need of a decision," Dewitt hastily completed +Luck's sentence. "From all weather reports, this storm is going to be a +long one. I doubt very much if you could get to work for several days. +I wish you would think it over from all sides before you accept or +refuse the proposition, Mr. Lindsay. Lay the matter before your boys; +tell them frankly just how things stand. I'll guarantee they will +insist upon your accepting the position. I know, and you know, that it +will give you a better opportunity than you have had in some time. And +I am going to say candidly that I believe you need only the opportunity +to make your work stand out above all the others. That is why I sent +for you this morning. I believe you have big possibilities, and I want +you with the Great Western." +</p> + +<p> +There was that instant of silence which terminates all conferences. Then +Luck rose, and Dewitt tilted back his office chair and swung it away from +the desk so that he was still facing Luck. So the two looked at each +other measuringly for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +"I certainly appreciate your good opinion of me, Mr. Dewitt," Luck said. +"Whether I take the place or not, I want to thank you for offering it to +me. It all looks fine—the chance of my life; but I can't—" +</p> + +<p> +"No, don't say any more." Dewitt raised his hand. "You do as I +suggest; tell the boys just what has passed, if you like. Let them +decide for you." +</p> + +<p> +"No, that wouldn't be fair. They'd decide for my interests and forget +about their own. I know that." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, let's just wait a day or two. You think it over. Think what you +could do with Jean Douglas, for instance. I'll try and get her back; I +think perhaps I can. She's married, but I think they'll both come if I +make it worth their while. Come and see me day after to-morrow, will you? +We'll say four o'clock again. Good-by." +</p> + +<p> +So Luck went away with temptation whispering in his ear. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER NINE +<br><br> +LEAVE IT TO THE BUNCH +</h3> + +<p> +Not a word did Luck say to the Happy Family about his big opportunity. +Instead, he avoided them half guiltily, and he filled the next day and +the one after that by seeing, or trying to see, the head of every motion +picture company in that part of the State. He even sent a night letter to +a big company at Santa Barbara. Always he stipulated that he must take +his own cowboys with him and have a free hand in the production of +Western pictures—since he did not mean to risk having another irate +author descend upon him with threats of a lawsuit. +</p> + +<p> +By three o'clock of the day when he was to give Dewitt his decision, +Luck was convinced that the two conditions he never failed to mention +were as two iron bars across every trail that might otherwise have been +open to him. No motion picture company seemed to feel that it needed +seven inexperienced men on its payroll. A few general managers +suggested letting them work as extras, but the majority could not see +the proposition at all. They were more willing to give Luck the free +hand which he demanded, had negotiations ever reached that far, which +they did not. +</p> + +<p> +The Happy Family, Luck was forced to admit to himself, was a very serious +handicap for an out-of-work director to carry at the beginning of the +rainy season. He did his best, and he spent two sleepless nights over the +doing, but he simply could not land them anywhere. He talked himself +hoarse for them, he painted them geniuses all; he declared that they +would make themselves and their company—supposing they were +accepted—famous for Western pictures. He worked harder to place them in +the business than he would ever work to find himself a job, and he failed +absolutely. +</p> + +<p> +Dewitt's eyes questioned him the moment he stood inside the office. +Dewitt had heard something of Luck's efforts since their last meeting; +and although he admired Luck the more for his loyalty, he felt quite +certain that now he was convinced of his defeat, Luck would hesitate no +longer over stepping into the official shoes of Robert Grant Burns, who +was lying on his broad back, and shouting pitifully futile commands to +his company and asking an imaginary camera-man questions which were as +Greek to the soft-footed nurse. Dewitt, having just come from a visit to +Burns, had a vivid mental picture of that ward in the Sister's hospital. +But alongside that picture was another, quite as vivid, of Luck Lindsay +standing beside Pete Lowry's camera with a script in his hand, explaining +to Jean Douglas the business of some particular scene. +</p> + +<p> +"Well?" queried Dewitt, and motioned Luck to a chair. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," Luck echoed, and stopped for a breath. "No use wasting time, Mr. +Dewitt. I can't take any position that doesn't include the Flying U boys. +I'm certainly sorry that prevents my accepting your offer. I appreciate +all it would mean for me and for my Big Picture to be with you. But—some +things mean more—" +</p> + +<p> +"You're under no obligations to tie your own hands just because theirs +are not free," Dewitt reminded him sharply. +</p> + +<p> +"I know I'm not." +</p> + +<p> +"Can you figure where it will be to their advantage for you to refuse a +good position just because they happen to be out of work?" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not trying to figure anything like that. Some things don't have to +be figured. Some things just are! Do you see what I mean? Those boys +didn't wait to do any figuring. When I quit the Acme, they quit—just as +a matter of course. If I were as loyal to them as they have been to me, +Mr. Dewitt, I wouldn't have taken two days to give you my answer. I'd +have told you day before yesterday what I'm telling you now." +</p> + +<p> +Dewitt did not reply at once. When he did speak he seemed to be answering +an argument within himself. +</p> + +<p> +"I can't let my own boys go to make room for yours. That is absolutely +out of the question. There is a little matter of loyalty there, also." +</p> + +<p> +"I know there is. I don't know that I should want you to let them go. +We're both in the same position almost. And we're at a deadlock, Mr. +Dewitt. I'm certainly sorry that I can't sign up with you." +</p> + +<p> +"So am I, young man. So am I. Come back if things shape themselves so you +can see your way clear to directing my Western company. I've an idea your +boys will be going back to their ranches before the holidays. In case +they do, let me hear from you." +</p> + +<p> +That was more than Luck had any right to expect, and he had the sense to +realize it. He thanked Dewitt and promised, and went away with something +of a load off his mind. He could go now and face the Happy Family without +feeling himself another Judas. +</p> + +<p> +He found them sitting around waiting for their supper and trying to +invent new words to fit their disgust with the Acme Film Company. They +greeted Luck as though they had not seen him for a month. +</p> + +<p> +"Bully for you, Luck!" Andy shouted, and gave him an approving slap on +the shoulder that sent him skating dangerously toward the table. "Best +job in town just came a-running up to you and says, 'Please take me!'—so +they say. That right?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yeah—what about this here Great Western gitting its loop on you first +thing?" bawled Big Medicine gleefully. "By cripes, that's sure one on the +Acme bunch! They'll wisht they wasn't quite so fresh, givin' that little +tin imitation of an author so much rope. Me 'n' Pink was over to the +studio to-day; honest to grandma, they was a sick lookin' bunch around +there. Me 'n' Pink sure throwed it into 'em too, about letting the only +real man they had git away from 'em the way they done." +</p> + +<p> +"My gorry, son, I sure am tickled to see yuh light with both feet +under yuh, like they say you done. I heard tell the Great Western's +going to let yuh put on your own pitcher; I guess them Acme folks'll +feel kinda foolish when they see it," declared the dried little man, +grinning over his pipe. +</p> + +<p> +Luck was fighting his bewilderment and framing a demand for explanations +when Rosemary bustled in from the kitchen. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, but we're glad, Luck Lindsay!" she began in her quick, emphatic way. +"We all feel like a million dollars over your good luck. We're going to +have fried chicken and strawberry shortcake for supper, too, just for a +celebration. I knew you'd come out and tell us all about it. So sit right +down, everybody, and keep still so Luck can tell us just what everybody +said to the other fellow, and how Dewitt happened to get hold of him so +quickly. Is it true? The boys heard you were going to get two hundred +dollars a week!" +</p> + +<p> +"Not get it—no." Luck unfolded his napkin with fingers that shook a +little. "I was offered it, but I'm not going to take it." +</p> + +<p> +"Not—why, Luck Lindsay!" Rosemary very nearly dropped her new +percolator. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Y' ain't</i>?" +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, gwan! Only reason I wouldn't take two hundred a week would be +because I'd drop dead at the chance and couldn't." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, listen. There's one point that hasn't spilled into studio gossip +yet," Luck managed to slip into the uproar. "I didn't take the place. +There were some details we couldn't get together on, so I thanked him and +turned it down." +</p> + +<p> +There was silence, while the Happy Family stared at him. +</p> + +<p> +"What dee-tails was them?" Big Medicine demanded belligerently. "Way I +heard it—" +</p> + +<p> +"Studio gossip," Luck interrupted hastily. "You can't depend on anything +you hear passed around amongst the extras. We failed to agree on certain +technical details. I haven't any more job than a jack rabbit; let it go +at that. What have you fellows been doing?" +</p> + +<p> +"Us? Why, the Acme's goin' to give us absent, treatment from now on," +Andy stated cheerfully. "They're paying us thirty a week apiece to stay +away from 'em—and I sure never earned money easier than that. Clements +is going to take orders from that so-called author, and he told me +straight out that they'll be using actors in those stories." +</p> + +<p> +"They'll need 'em," Luck commented drily. "You're in luck that they don't +want you to work. Any other news?" +</p> + +<p> +"You bet they's other news!" roared Big Medicine, goggling across the +table at Luck. "I rustled me a job, by cripes! Soon as this rain's +over, I'm goin' to cash in my face fer two dollars a day with the +Sunset. Feller over there wants me bad fer atmosphere in a pitcher he's +goin' to make of the Figy Islands. Feller claims he can clothe me in a +nigger wig and a handful of grass and get more atmosphere, by cripes, +to the square inch—" +</p> + +<p> +Rosemary gasped and bolted for the kitchen. When she came back, red-faced +and still gurgling spasmodically, Pink was relating his experiences with +another company. He and the Native Son and Weary, it transpired, were +duly enrolled upon the extra list and were reasonably sure of a day's +work now and then. Rosemary had paid her Japanese maid and let her go, +and Andy was going to help her with the housework until the industrial +problem was solved. She listened for a minute and then made a suggestion +of her own. +</p> + +<p> +"We're all in the same boat," she said, "and by just sticking together, I +know we'll come out swimmingly. Why don't you leave the hotel, and come +out here and batch with us, Luck? It would be so much cheaper; and I can +turn that couch in the kitchen into a bed, easy as anything. I'd like to +shake that Great Western Company for acting the way they have with you. +Think of offering a man a two-hundred-a-week position and then +haggling—" +</p> + +<p> +"Say, Luck," the dried little man spoke up suddenly, "how much does one +of them there camaries cost? I'd be willin' to chip in and help buy one; +and, by gorry, we could make some movin' pitchers of our own and sell +'em, if we caji't do no better." He craned his neck and peered the length +of the table at Luck. "Ain't no law ag'in it, is there?" he challenged. +</p> + +<p> +"No, there's no law against it." Luck closed his lips against further +comment. The idea was like a sudden blow upon the door of his +imagination. +</p> + +<p> +The Happy Family looked at one another inquiringly. They had never +thought of doing anything like that. The dried little man may have +meditated much upon the subject, but he certainly had not given a hint of +it to any of them. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, why couldn't you boys do that?" Rosemary exclaimed breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +Luck stirred his coffee carefully and did not look up. "Don't run away +with the idea that you can buy a camera for twenty or thirty dollars," he +quelled. "A camera, complete with tripod, lenses, magazines, and cases, +would cost about fourteen hundred dollars—at least." +</p> + +<p> +That, as he had expected it to do, rather feazed the Happy Family for a +few minutes. They became interested in the food they were eating, and +their eyes did not stray far from their plates. +</p> + +<p> +"I can ante two hundred," Weary remarked at last with elaborate +carelessness, reaching for more butter. +</p> + +<p> +"See yuh and raise yuh fifty," Andy Green retorted briskly. "I've got a +wife that's learning me to save money." +</p> + +<p> +"You can count my chips for all I got." Pink's dimples showed briefly. +"I'll go through my pockets when I get filled up, and see how rich I am. +But, anyway, there's a couple of hundred I know I've got,—counting Acme +handouts and all." +</p> + +<p> +"We-ell—" the dried little man laid down his fork to rub his chin +thoughtfully, "I never had much call to spend money in Sioux, +North-Dakoty. I batched and lived savin'. I can put in half of that +fourteen hundred—mebby a little mite more." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, by cripes, I got a boy t' look out fer, and I ain't rich as some, +but all I got goes in the pot!" cried Big Medicine impulsively. +</p> + +<p> +Luck leaned back in his chair and regarded the flushed faces +enigmatically. "This is all good material for an argument on our +financial standing," he said, "but if you're taking yourselves seriously, +let me tell you something before you go any farther. Buying a camera is +only a starter. Besides, I wouldn't play with little stuff and compete +with these big, established companies releasing on regular programs. Say, +for the sake of argument, that we cooperate and go into this; all I'd +handle would be features,—State's rights stuff. (Make big four-or-five +reelers, and sell the rights in as many States as possible; that's what +it amounts to.) But it isn't a thing to play with, boys. Let's do our +joking about something else." +</p> + +<p> +Rosemary set her two elbows upon the table, clasped her hands together, +and dropped her chin upon them so that she was looking at Luck from under +her eyebrows. That pose meant determination and an argumentative mood. +</p> + +<p> +"I've been doing a little mental arithmetic," she began. "Also I've done +a little thinking. I know now what spoiled that Great Western offer for +you, Luck Lindsay. It was because they wouldn't take the boys too. And +you turned it down because you—oh, they're the 'technical details,' +young man! You see? Your eyes give you away. I knew it, once the idea +popped into my head. What do you think of a fellow like that, boys? +Refused a two-hundred-a-week position because he couldn't get you fellows +a job too." +</p> + +<p> +"That two hundred seems to worry you a good deal," Luck muttered, crimson +to his collar. +</p> + +<p> +"Now don't interrupt, because I shall keep right on talking just the +same. I've a lot more to say. Do you realize that the donations these +boys have made already amounts to over fifteen hundred dollars? And that +does not include Happy Jack or Miguel, because they haven't—" +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, gwan! I never had a chanct to git a word in edgeways," Happy +hurriedly defended his seeming parsimony. "I'm willin' to chip in." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, the point is this: Why not all put in what you can, and just go +out where there are cattle, and make your Big Picture, Luck Lindsay? We +could live in the country cheaper than we can here: and there wouldn't be +anything to buy but grub,—just a bag of beans and some flour and coffee. +I'd be willing to starve for the sake of making that Big Picture!" +</p> + +<p> +"By gracious, there's our transportation money, too!" Andy broke another +short silence. "Three hundred and fifty, right there in a lump." +</p> + +<p> +"Let it stay transportation money, too!" Rosemary advised quickly. "It +can transport you fellows to where Luck wants to make his picture." +</p> + +<p> +They waited then for Luck to speak, but he was too busy thinking. On his +shoulders would rest the responsibility of the outfit. On his word they +would rely absolutely and without question. It was no light matter to +lead these men into a venture which would take their time, more hard, +heart-breaking work than they could possibly foresee, and the last dollar +they possessed. He was sorely tempted to try it, but for their sakes he +knew he must not let their enthusiasm sweep away his sober judgment. Had +they owned but half his experience it would be different; but their very +ignorance of the game hampered his decision. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, boss, how about it?" Andy urged. "Are yuh game to try her a whirl? +We haven't got much, but what we've got is yours if you want to tackle +it. We'll be right with you—till hell's no bigger than a bullet ladle." +</p> + +<p> +"That's just what holds me back. I'd certainly hate to lead you up +against a losing proposition, boys. And if I went into it, I'd go in over +my eyebrows; if I didn't make good I wouldn't have the price of a tag on +a ten-cent sack of Bull Durham when I quit; so I couldn't pay you back—" +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, thunder! Think we never set into a poker game in our lives? Think +we're in the habit of hollerin' for our chips back when we lose? What's +the matter with yuh, anyway?" cried Big Medicine wrathfully. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, of course we share the risk of losing!" Rosemary scowled at him +indignantly. "We'll go in over our eyebrows, too,—and stand on our toes +long as we can, to keep our scalp locks showing above water!" Her brown +eyes twinkled a swift glance around the table. "If you think these boys +are quitters, Luck Lindsay, you just ought to have been around when they +were hanging on to their homesteads! I could tell you things—" +</p> + +<p> +"You say buying a camera is just a starter. How much do you figure it +would cost to make our Big Picture? Cutting out salaries and all such +little luxuries, what would the actual expenses be—making a rough +guess?" Weary leaned forward over his plate and forgot all about his +tempting wedge of shortcake. +</p> + +<p> +Luck pushed back his plate and smiled his smile. "For the Big Picture," +he began, while the Happy Family leaned to listen, "there'd be the camera +and outfit,—I could pick up some things second hand,—we'll call that +fourteen hundred and fifty. Then there would be at least five thousand +feet of film: perforated raw stock I could get for about three and three +quarter cents a foot. Say a couple, of hundred dollars for that. We'd +need at least three dozen radium flares for our night scenes; they cost +close around twenty dollars a dozen. And one or two light +diffusers,—that's just to get us started with an outfit, remember. Then +there'd be our transportation to Albuquerque, New Mexico. I know that +country, and I know what I can do there. I'd hit straight for a ranch I +know between Bear Canyon and Rincon Arroyo—belongs to an old fellow that +sure is a character, too, in his way. Old bachelor, he is; got some +cattle and horses, and round-pole corrals and the like of that. I know +old Applehead Forrman like I know my right hand; we'd make Applehead's +place our headquarters—see? Exterior stuff we'd have right there, ready +to shoot without any expense. As for interiors,—say! any of you fellows +handy with hammer and saw?" +</p> + +<p> +"By gracious, we all are!" Andy declared quickly. "We learned our little +lessons when we were building claim shacks for ourselves." +</p> + +<p> +"Good enough! You boys could be stage mechanics as well as leading men," +Luck grinned. "Add hammers and saws to the outfit. We'd have to build a +few interior sets." +</p> + +<p> +Rosemary had her eyebrows tied in little knots, she was thinking so fast. +"I'll write the Little Doctor that she can have my silver teaset," she +informed Andy impulsively. "She offered me fifty dollars for it, you +know. That would buy lots of beans!" +</p> + +<p> +Luck looked at her, but he did not say what was in his mind. Instead he +reached into an inner pocket and drew out his passbook, "I've got +eighteen hundred and ninety-five dollars in the bank," he announced, +reading the figures aloud. "And my car ought to bring three or four +thousand,—if I can find the man that tried to buy it a month or so +before I took the Injuns back. She's a pippin, boys!—" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, your lovely, big, white machine!" wailed Rosemary. "Would you have +to sell it, Luck? Couldn't we squeak along without that?" +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, you don't want to sell your car!" Pink protested. "I know where I +can borrow two or three hundred. Maybe the Old Man—" +</p> + +<p> +"We'll put this thing through alone, if we do it at all," Luck told him +bluntly. "Can't afford to work with borrowed capital; the risk is too +great. Sure, I'll sell the car. I was thinking of it, anyway," he +testified falsely but reassuringly. "We'll need every cent I can raise. +There's chemicals and Lord knows what all; and when we come to making our +prints and marketing, why—" he threw out both hands expressively. "If we +land in Albuquerque with five thousand dollars and our outfit, we won't +have a cent to throw away. At that, we'll have to squeeze every nickel +till it hollers, before we're through. Believe me, boys, this is going to +be some undertaking!" +</p> + +<p> +"Nice, comfortable way you've got of painting things cheerful," the +Native Son drawled ironically. +</p> + +<p> +"That's all right. I want you to realize what it's going to be like +before you get in so far you can't back out." +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, who's said anything about backing out?" Happy Jack grumbled. +</p> + +<p> +"Let's get right down to brass tacks and see how strong we can go on +money," Andy suggested, pulling a pencil out of an inner pocket. "Here, +girl, you do the bookkeeping while we call off the size of our pile. Put +'er down in this book till you can get another one. You can set me down +for two seventy-five—or make it three hundred. I can scrape it up, all +right. How about you, Pink? This is hard-boiled figures, now, and no +guess work." +</p> + +<p> +Pink blew a mouthful of smoke while he did a little mental calculation. +Then he took his twisted-leather purse and emptied it into his saucer. He +investigated all his pockets and added eighty-five cents in small change. +Then he gravely began to count, not disdaining three pennies in the pile. +"I've got seventy-five dollars in the bank," he said. "Add ninety dollars +salary, and you have a hundred and sixty-five. Add six dollars and +eighty-seven cents, and you have—my pile." +</p> + +<p> +Rosemary twisted her lips and wrote the figures opposite Pink's name. +Next came Weary, then Miguel and Big Medicine and the dried little man +who chewed violently upon a wooden toothpick and said he was good for +eight hundred, and mebby a little mite more. +</p> + +<p> +They pushed their plates to the table's center to make room for their +gesticulating hands and uneasy elbows while they planned ways and means. +They argued over trivial points and left the big ones for Luck to settle. +They talked of light effects and wholesale grocery lists and ray filters +and smoke pots and railroad fares and the problem of cutting down their +baggage so as to avoid paying excess charges. Luck, once he had taken the +mental plunge into the deep waters of so hazardous an enterprise, began +to exhibit a most amazing knowledge of the details of picture making. +</p> + +<p> +To save money, he told them, he would be his own camera man. He could do +without a "still" camera, because he would enlarge clippings from the +different scenes in the negative instead. They'd have to manage the range +stuff with only one camera, which would mean more work to get the various +effects. But with a telephoto lens and a wide angle lens he could come +pretty near putting it over the way he wanted it. "And there'll be no +more blank ammunition, boys," he told them. "So you want to fit +yourselves out with real shells. I'm not going very strong on this +foreground bullet-effect stuff; we can afford to leave that for the +Western four-flushers that can't do anything else. But she's some wild +down where we'll be located, so we'll not be packing empty guns, at that. +</p> + +<p> +"And there's another thing," he went on, talking and making notes at the +same time. "If we're going to do this, we can't get started any too +soon. We may be able to hit a late round-up and get some scenes, which +will save rounding up stock ourselves for it. And there's all that +winter stuff to make, too; we haven't any more time to throw away than +we have money." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, we're ready to hit the trail any time you are," Andy declared. +"To-morrow, if yuh say so. You go ahead with your end of it, Luck, and +I'll be straw boss here in camp and get the outfit packed and ready to +ship outa here on an hour's notice. I can do it, too—believe me!" +</p> + +<p> +"Do you know," said Rosemary, "I'd let James and Weary buy our winter's +supplies and have them sent by freight right on to where we're going. +Things are awfully cheap here. I'll make out a list, and the boys can +attend to that to-morrow. And I'll bake up a lot of stuff for lunches on +the train, too. We're not going to squander money in the dining car." +</p> + +<p> +"Say, we'll just borry one of them dray teams from the Acme corral, by +cripes, and haul our own stuff to the depot!" Big Medicine exclaimed with +enthusiasm. "Save us four or five dollars right there!" +</p> + +<p> +Luck rose and reached for his umbrella as though he had just recalled an +important engagement. "I think I know where to find a buyer for my +machine," he said, "so I'll just get on his trail. To-morrow I'll start +getting my camera outfit together. Andy, I'll turn this end of the +expedition over to you; that idea of getting food supplies here is all +right, within certain limits. Don't buy any cheap, weighty stuff here, +because the freight will eat up all you save. But I'll leave that to you +folks; I guess you've had experience enough—" +</p> + +<p> +"Considering most of us learned our <i>a-b-c's</i> outa Montgomery-Ward +catalogues," Weary observed with a quirk of the lips, "I guess you can +safely leave it to the bunch. Range kids are brought up on them +Wind-river bibles, as we call mail order catalogues. I'll bet you I can +give offhand the freight on anything you can name, from a hair hackamore +to a gang plow." +</p> + +<p> +"Fly at it, then," laughed Luck, with his hand on the doorknob. "I am +going to be some busy myself. I'll just turn over the transportation +problem to you folks. <i>Adios</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"Prepare to ride in the chair car," Rosemary called after him warningly. +"Even a tourist sleeper is going to be too luxurious for us; we're going +to squeeze nickels till they just squeal!" +</p> + +<p> +Luck held the door open while he smiled approvingly at her. "That'll be +playing the game right from the start. <i>Adios</i>, folks." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER TEN +<br><br> +UNEXPECTED GUESTS FOR APPLEHEAD +</h3> + +<p> +Applehead Forrman was worried over his cat, Compadre, which is Spanish +for comrade or something of that sort. It was a blue cat and it was a +big cat, and it had a bellicose disposition, and Applehead was anxious +because it had lately declared war on a neighboring coyote and had not +come out of the battle unscathed. Applehead had heard the disturbance +and had gone out with a rifle and dispersed the coyote, but not until +Compadre had lost half of his tail and a good deal of his +self-assurance. Since that night, almost a week ago, Compadre had been a +changed cat. He had sought dark corners and had yowled when the best +friend he had in the world tried to coax him out to his meals. Applehead +was very patient and very sympathetic, and hunted small game with which +to tempt the invalid's appetite. +</p> + +<p> +On this day he had a fat prairie dog which he had shot, and he was +carrying it around by a hind leg looking for Compadre and calling "Kitty, +kitty, kitty," in the most seductive tones of which his desert-harshened +vocal chords were capable. He looked under the squat adobe cabin which +held all the odds and ends that had accumulated about the place, and +which he called the "ketch-all." He went over and looked under the water +tank where there was shade and coolness. He went to the stable, and from +there he returned to the adobe house, squat like the "ketch-all" but +larger. There was a hole alongside the fireplace chimney at the end next +the hill, and sometimes when Compadre was especially disenchanted with +his world, he went into the hole and nursed his grievances in dark +seclusion under the house. +</p> + +<p> +Applehead got down upon all fours and called "Kitty, kitty, kitty," with +his face close to the hole. It was past noon, and Compadre had not had +anything to eat since the night before, when he had lapped up half a +saucer of canned milk and had apathetically licked a slice of bacon. +Applehead put his ear to the hole and imagined he heard a faint meow from +a far corner. He pushed the prairie dog into the aperture and called +"Kitty-kitty-kitty" again coaxingly. +</p> + +<p> +He was so absorbed in his anxious quest that he did not hear the chuckle +of two wagons coming up through the sand to the corral. He did not even +hear the footsteps of men approaching the house. He did not hear +anything at all except a dismal yowl now and then from the darkness. He +contorted his long person that he might peer into the gloom. He pushed +the prairie dog in as far as he could reach. "Come, kitty-kitty-kitty!" +he coaxed. "Doggone your onery soul, I'm gitting tired of this kinda +performance! You can tromp on me just so fur and no further, now I'm +a-tellin' yuh. That there tail of yourn needs a fresh rag tied to it, +and some salve. But I ain't the burrowin' kind of animal, and I ain't +comin' in under there after yuh. Come, kitty-kitty-kitty! Come on outa +there 'fore I send a charge of birdshot in after yuh!" His voice changed +to a tremulous chant of rising anger. "You wall-eyed, mangy, rat-eatin' +son of a gun, what have I been feedin' yuh fur all these years? You come +outa there! If it wasn't for the love uh God I got in my heart, I'll +fill yuh so full of holes the coyotes'll have to make soup of ye! I'll +sure spread yuh out so thin your hide'll measure up like a mountain +lion! Don't yuh yowl at me like that! Come, kitty-kitty-kitty—ni-ice +kitty! Come to your old pard what ketched yuh the fattest young dog on +the flat for your dinner. Come on, now; you ain't skeered uh me, +shorely! Come on, Compadre—ni-ice kitty!" +</p> + +<p> +"Let me try!" cried Rosemary behind him, her voice startling old +Applehead so that he knocked his head painfully on the rock foundation as +he jerked himself into a more dignified posture. His eyes widened at the +size of the audience grouped behind him, but he had faced more amazing +sights than that in his eventful career. He got stiffly to his feet and +bowed, the prairie dog dangling limply from his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"Howdy! Howdy! Pleased to meet yuh," he greeted them dazedly. Then he +spied Luck standing half behind Weary's tall form, and his embarrassed +smile changed to a joyful grin. "Well, danged if it ain't Luck! How are +yuh, boy? I was jest thinkin' about you right this morning. What wind +blowed you into camp? Come right on in, folks. If you're friends of +Luck's, yuh don't need no interduction in this camp. Luck and me's et +outa the same skillet months on end together. Come on in. I've et, but +they's plenty left." His blue eyes twinkled quizzically over the Happy +Family and then went to Luck. "What yuh up to this time, boy? 'Nother +wild-west show?" +</p> + +<p> +While they were waiting for coffee to boil, Luck told him what he was up +to this time. Told him what it was he meant to do in the way of making a +Western picture that should be worthy the West. He did not say a word +about needing Applehead's assistance; he did not need to say a word about +that. Applehead himself saw where he would fit into the scheme, and he +seemed to take it for granted that Luck saw it also. +</p> + +<p> +"Got all your stuff out from town?" he asked, while he was hunting cups +enough to go around. "If yuh ain't, you can send a couple of the boys in +with a four-horse team after dinner. I d'no about beds, unless yuh got +your own beddin'-rolls with yuh. The missus, she can have a room, and the +rest of yuh will have to knock some bunks together. Mebby we can clean +out the 'ketch-all' and turn that into a bunk house. One I had, it burnt +down last winter; some darn-fool Mexicans got to fightin' in there and +kicked the lamp over. It could have a new roof put on, I reckon; the +walls is there yet. You can take a look around after you eat, and see +what all there is to do. Well, set up, folks; ain't much, but I've +throwed my feet under the table fer less and was thankful to git it, now +I'm a-tellin' yuh!" +</p> + +<p> +Big Medicine bethought him of the remains of the train lunch which they +had frugally saved. He brought that and added it to Applehead's +impromptu meal. The sandwiches were mashed flat, and the pickles were +limp, and the cake much inclined to crumble, but Applehead gave one look +and took off his hat. +</p> + +<p> +"I've et, but I can shore eat again when I git my eyes on cake," he +declared exuberantly, and pulled an empty box up to the table for a seat. +"I wisht Compadre could git a smell uh that there fried chicken; it would +put new life into him, which he needs after tangling with that there +coyote 'tother night." +</p> + +<p> +"We ought to unhitch and give the horses a feed," Luck suggested. "Any +particular place?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you know where to put them cayuses as well as I do," Applehead +mumbled, with his mouth full of cake. "I don't care what yuh do around +the danged place. Go along and don't bother me, boy; I'm busy." +</p> + +<p> +"Didn't I tell you how it would be?" Luck reminded Andy and Weary when +they were outside. "That old boy is tickled to death to have us here. He +sure is a type, too. I'll be using him in the picture. And just tale a +look at that corral down there! We'll set up camp this afternoon and +round up some horses,—Applehead always keeps a bunch running back here +on the mesa,—and to-morrow morning we'll get to work. A couple of you +will have to take these teams back this afternoon, too. I'll let you +drive the four-horse in, Weary, and lead the other behind. And I'll send +the Native Son in with Applehead's team and wagon, so you can haul out a +thousand feet of lumber for a stage. Get it surfaced one +side,—fourteen-foot boards, sabe? And about twenty-five pounds of +eight-penny nails. We've got the tools in our outfit. I wonder which +pasture Applehead's team is running in. I'll have one of the boys get +them up, unless—" +</p> + +<p> +"Luck Lindsay!" came Rosemary's high, clear treble. "Aren't you boys +going to eat any dinner?" +</p> + +<p> +"We'll eat when we have more time!" Luck shouted back. "Send Applehead +out here, will you?" +</p> + +<p> +Presently Applehead appeared with a large piece of cake in one hand and a +well-picked chicken wing in the other. "What yuh want?" he inquired +lazily, in the tone that implies extreme physical comfort. +</p> + +<p> +"I want your big team to haul some lumber out from town. Where are they? +If you don't mind catching them up while I help get this stuff unloaded, +we'll have things moving around here directly." +</p> + +<p> +"Shore I'll ketch 'em up fur ye, soon as I find Compadre and give him +this here bone. He's been kinda off his feed since that coyote clumb his +frame. He was under the house, but I reckon so many strange voices kinda +got his goat. There ain't ary yowl to be got outa that hole no more. +Come, kitty-kitty-kitty!" +</p> + +<p> +Luck threw out his hands despairingly, and then laughed. Applehead's +tender solicitude for his cat was a fixed characteristic of the man, and +Luck knew there was no profit in argument upon the subject. He began +unloading the lighter pieces of baggage while the boys fed the livery +teams. The others came straggling down from the house, lighting their +after-dinner cigarettes and glancing curiously at the adobe out-buildings +which were so different from anything in Montana. The sagebrush slopes +wore a comfortable air of familiarity, even though the boys were more +accustomed to bunch grass; but an adobe stable was a novelty. +</p> + +<p> +Fast as they came near him, Luck put them to work. There was plenty to +do before they could even begin work on the Big Picture, but Luck seemed +to have thought out all the details of camp-setting with the same +attention to trifles which he had shown in the making of a picture. In +half an hour he had every one busy, including old Applehead, who, having +located Compadre in the stable loft and left the chicken wing at the top +of the ladder, had saddled his horse and gone off into a far pasture to +bring in all the horses down there, so that Luck could choose whatever +animals he wished to use. Dave Wiswell, the dried little man, was +helping Rosemary wash the dishes and put away the food supplies they had +brought out with them, as fast as Happy Jack could carry them up from +the wagon. Andy Green was ruthlessly emptying the only closet—a roomy +one, fortunately—in the house, and tacking up black paper which Luck +had brought, so that it might serve as a dark room. Big Medicine and +Pink were clearing out the one-roomed adobe cabin which Applehead called +the "ketch-all," so that the boys could sleep there until the bunk-house +was repaired. +</p> + +<p> +Luck was unpacking his camera and swearing softly to himself while he set +it up, and wishing that his experience as assistant camera-man was not +quite so far in the past. He foresaw difficulties with that camera until +he got in practice, but he did not say anything about it to the others. +He got it together finally, put in the two-hundred-foot magazine of +negative that he had brought with him to use while waiting for his big +order to arrive, made a few light tests, and went up to the house to see +if Andy had the dark room dark enough. +</p> + +<p> +He found Andy defending himself as best he could from a small domestic +storm. In his anxiety to have that dark room fixed just the way Luck +wanted it, Andy had purloined a shelf which Rosemary needed, and which +she meant to have, if words could restore it to its place behind the +kitchen stove. Andy had the shelf down and was taking out bent nails with +a new hammer when Luck came to the door with his arms full of packages of +chemicals and a ruby lamp. +</p> + +<p> +"What can a fellow do?" Andy was inquiring plaintively. "There ain't +another board on the place that's the right width. I looked. Luck's got +to have a shelf; you don't expect him to keep all his junk on the floor, +do you? I'm sorry, but I've just got to have it, girl." +</p> + +<p> +"You've just got to put that shelf back, Andy. Where do you expect me to +put things? There isn't a pantry on the place, and only that one dinky +little cupboard over there. I can't keep my dishes on the floor, and +cooking is going to be pretty important, itself, around this camp!" +</p> + +<p> +"Soon as the lumber gets here, I'll have Andy build you a cupboard," Luck +soothed her. "You haven't got many conveniences here, and that's a fact. +But we'll get things straightened out, <i>pronto</i>. Got any bones or scraps +left, Mrs. Andy? That little black dog that followed us out is here yet. +He didn't go back with the boys. I found him curled up in the wagon shed +just now; poor little devil looks about starved. His ribs stand out worse +than a cow that's wintered on a sheep range." +</p> + +<p> +With Rosemary's attention diverted to the little black dog, Andy got the +shelf nailed firmly upon the wall of the dark room. And immediately Luck +proceeded to use it to its fullest capacity and announced that he needed +another one, whereat Andy groaned. +</p> + +<p> +"Say, I'm a brave man, all right, but I don't dare to swipe any more +shelves," he protested. "Not from my wife, anyway. Timber must sure be +scarce in this man's country. I never did see a place so shy of boards as +this ranch is." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, let's see if there are any barrels," said Luck. "I've been +studying on how to rig up some way to develop my film. If we can find +some half barrels and knock the heads out, I can wind the negative around +them with the emulsion side out, and dip it in the bigger barrels of +developer; see how I mean? Believe me, this laboratory problem is going +to be a big one till I can see my way to getting tanks and film racks out +here. But I believe barrels will work all right. And, say! There's some +old hose I saw out by the windmill tank; you get that, and see if you +can't run it under the house and up through a hole in the floor. I expect +it leaks in forty places, but maybe you can mend it. And we ought to have +some way to run the water out in a trough or something. You see what you +can do about that, Andy, while I go and unpack the rest of my camera +outfit. There's a garret up over the ceiling, here, and you'll have to +see what shape it's in for drying film. Stop all the cracks so dust can't +blow in. I want to start taking scenes to-morrow morning, you know. I've +got two hundred feet of raw stock to work with till the other gets here. +I've got to develop my tests before to-morrow so I'll know what I'm +doing. I can't afford to spoil any film." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, hardly," Andy agreed. "By gracious, I hope you're making the rest +of the bunch hump themselves, too. Honest, I'd die if I saw anybody +sitting around in the shade, right now!" +</p> + +<p> +"Andy, did you go and take that shelf after all?" came the reproachful +voice of Rosemary from the kitchen, and Luck retreated by way of the +front door without telling Andy just how busy the other boys were. +</p> + +<p> +The "ketch-all," where Big Medicine and Pink were clearing out the +accumulation of years, was enveloped in a cloud of dust. Down in the +corral a dozen horses were circling, with Applehead moving cautiously +about in the middle dragging his loop and making ready for a throw. There +was one snuffy little bay gelding that he meant to turn over to Luck for +a saddle horse, and he wanted to get him caught and in the stable before +showing him to Luck. Happy Jack was wobbling up the path with an +oversized sack of potatoes balanced on his shoulder, and his face a deep +crimson from the heat and his exertions. Down in the stable the little +black dog, enlivened by the plate of bones Rosemary had given him, had +scented the cat in the loft and was barking hysterically up the ladder. +</p> + +<p> +Luck stepped out briskly, cheered by the atmosphere of bustling +preparation which surrounded him. That he was the moving spirit which +directed all these activities stimulated him like good old wine. It was +for his Big Picture that they were preparing. Already his brain was at +work upon the technique of picture production, formulating a system which +should as far as possible eliminate the risk of failure because of the +handicaps under which he must work. +</p> + +<p> +Having to be his own camera-man, and to work without an assistant, piled +high the burden of work and responsibility; but he could not afford to +pay the salaries such assistants would demand. He had a practical +knowledge of camera craft, since he had worked his way up through all +branches of the game, and he was sure that with practice he could do the +photographic work. He hoped to teach Andy enough about it so that he +could help; Andy seemed to have an adaptability superior to some of the +others and would learn the rudiments readily, Luck believed. +</p> + +<p> +The lack of a leading woman was another handicap. He could not afford to +hire one, and he could not very well weave a love story into his plot +without a woman. He was going to try Rosemary, since her part would +consist mostly of riding in and out of scenes and looking pretty,—at +least in the earlier portion. And by the time he was ready to produce the +dramatic scenes, he hoped that she would be able to act the part. It was +a risk, of course, and down deep in his heart he feared that much of her +charm would never reach the screen; but he must manage somehow, since +there would be no money to spend on salaries. He ought to have a +character woman, too,—which he lacked. +</p> + +<p> +But other things he did have, and they were the things that would count +most for success or failure. He had his real boys, for instance; and he +had his real country; and, last and most important of all, he had his +story to tell. In spite of his weariness, Luck was almost happy that +first afternoon at Applehead's ranch. He went whistling about his task of +directing the others and doing two men's work himself, and he refused to +worry about anything. +</p> + +<p> +That evening after supper, when they were all smoking and resting before +Applehead's big rock fireplace, Luck's energy would not let him dwell +upon the trivial incidents of their trip, which the Happy Family were +discussing with reminiscent enjoyment. Applehead's booming laugh was to +Luck as a vague accompaniment to his own thoughts darting here and there +among his plans. +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, gwan!" Happy Jack was exclaiming in his habitual tone of protest. +"Conductor lied to me, is how I come to be over to that place when the +train started to pull out. I was buyin' something. I wasn't talking to no +Mexican girl. I betche—" +</p> + +<p> +"Now, while we're all together," Luck broke suddenly into Happy's +explanation, "I'm just going over the scenario from start to finish and +assign your parts. Applehead, I'm going to cast you for the sheriff. You +won't need to do any acting at all—" +</p> + +<p> +"We-ell, if I do, I calc'late I got some idee uh how a shurf had oughta +ack," Applehead informed him with a boastful note in his voice, and +pulled himself up straighter in his chair. "I was 'lected shurf uh this +county four different terms right hand runnin', and if I do say it, they +wasn't nobody ever said I didn't do my duty. Ary man I went after, I come +purty near bringin' him into camp, now I'm tellin' ye! This here old girl +has shore talked out in meetin', in her time, and there wasn't ary man +wanted to face her down in an argument, now I'm tellin' ye." He got up +and took his old six-shooter off the mantel and held it lovingly in his +palm. Very solemnly he licked his thumb and polished a certain place +along the edge of the yellow ivory handle, and held it so the Happy +Family could see three tiny notches. +</p> + +<p> +"Them's three argyments she shore settled," he stated grimly, and turned +slowly upon Luck. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes-s, I calc'late I can play shurf for ye, all right enough." +</p> + +<p> +Luck looked up at him with his eyes shining, remembering how staunch a +friend Applehead had been in times past, and how even his boastings were +but a naïve recognition of facts concerning himself. Applehead Forrman +was fifty-six years old, but Luck could not at that moment recall a man +more dangerous to meet as an enemy or more loyal to have as a friend. +</p> + +<p> +"I calc'late you can," he agreed in his soft, friendly drawl. "Sit down +and turn your good ear this way, Applehead, so this story can soak in. +You'll see where you come in as sheriff, and you'll sabe just what you'll +have to do. Bud, here, will be the outlaw that blows into the cow-camp +and begins to mix things. He's the one you'll have to settle. So here's +the way the story runs:" +</p> + +<p> +"Say, boss, make it short and sweet, can't you?" Andy begged. He was +sitting on the floor with his head against Rosemary's knees, and his +eyelids were drooping drowsily. "By gracious, nobody'll have to sing me +to sleep to-night! I'm about ready to hit the hay right now." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll cut out the atmosphere and just stick to the action, then," Luck +conceded. "I want to get you all placed, so we can get to work in the +morning without any delay. <i>Sabe</i>?" +</p> + +<p> +"Shoot," murmured Pink, opening his eyes with some effort "I can listen +for five minutes, maybe." +</p> + +<p> +"I can't, I don't believe," the Native Son yawned. "But go ahead, +<i>amigo</i>. My heart's with you, anyway, whether my eyes are open or shut." +</p> + +<p> +Luck was pretty sleepy himself, after two nights and a day spent in a +chair car, with another day of hard labor to finish the ordeal. But his +enthusiasm had never been keener than when, in the land of sage and +cactus, he first unfolded his precious scenario and bent forward to +read by the light of the fire. He forgot to skip the "atmosphere." +Scene by scene he lived the story through. Scene by scene he saw his +Big Picture grow vivid as ever the reality would be. Once or twice he +glanced up and saw Applehead leaning forward with his elbows on his +knees and his pipe gone cold in his fingers, absorbed, living the story +even as Luck lived it. +</p> + +<p> +A long, rumbling snore stopped him with a mental jolt. He came back to +reality and looked at the Happy Family. Every one of them, save Rosemary, +was sound asleep; and even Rosemary was dreaming at the fire with her +eyes half closed, and her fingers moving caressingly through the +unconscious Andy's brown hair. +</p> + +<p> +"Let 'em be. You go ahead and read it out," Applehead muttered, impatient +of the pause. +</p> + +<p> +So Luck, with his audience dwindled to one bald-headed old rangeman, +read the story of what he meant to create out there in the wild spaces +of New Mexico. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER ELEVEN +<br><br> +JUST A FEW UNFORESEEN OBSTACLES +</h3> + +<p> +It is surprising how much time is consumed by the little things of +life,—unimportant in themselves, yet absolutely necessary to a +satisfactory accomplishment of the big things. Luck, looking ahead into +the next day, confidently expected to be making scenes by the time the +light was right,—say nine o'clock in the morning. He had chosen several +short, unimportant scenes, such as the departure of old Dave Wiswell, his +cattleman of the picture, from the ranch; his return, and the saddling of +horses and riding away of the boys. Also he meant to make a scene of the +arrival of the sheriff after having received word of the presence of Big +Medicine, the outlaw, at the ranch. Rosemary, too, as the daughter of old +Dave, must run down to the corral to meet her father. Scattered scenes +they were, occurring in widely separated parts of the story. But they had +to be made, and they required no especial "sets" of scenery; and other +work, such as the building of the stage for interior sets, could go on +with few interruptions. The boys would have to work in their make-up, but +since the make-up was to be nothing more than a sharpening of the +features to make them look absolutely natural upon the screen, it would +not be uncomfortable. This was what Luck had planned for that day. +</p> + +<p> +Before breakfast he had selected a site for his stage, on the sunny +side of the hill back of the house, where it would be partially +sheltered from the sweeping winds of New Mexico. All day he would have +the sun behind him while he worked, and he considered the situation an +ideal one. He had the lumber hauled up there and unloaded, while +Rosemary and Applehead were cooking breakfast for ten hungry people. He +laid out his foundation and explained to the boys just how it should be +built, and even sacrificed his appetite to his impatience by going a +quarter of a mile to where he remembered seeing some old barbed wire +strung along a fence to keep it off the ground so that stock could not +tangle in it. He got the wire and brought it back with him to guy out +the uprights for the diffusers. So on the whole he began the day as +well as even he could desire. +</p> + +<p> +Then little hindrances began to creep in to delay him. For one thing, the +Happy Family had only a comedy acquaintance with grease paint, and their +make-up reminded Luck unpleasantly of Bently Brown's stories. As they +appeared one by one, with their comically crooked eyebrows and their +rouge-widened lips and staring, deep-shadowed eyes, Luck sent them back +to take it all off and start over again under his supervision. The +outcome was that he gave a full hour to making up the faces of his +characters and telling them how to do it themselves. Even Rosemary made +her brows too heavy and her lips too red, and her cheeks were flushed +unevenly. Luck was a busy man that morning, but he was not taking scenes +by nine o'clock, for all his haste. +</p> + +<p> +With a kindly regard for Rosemary's nervousness lest she fail him, he set +up his camera and told her to walk down part way to the corral, +looking—supposedly—to see if her dad had come home. She must stand +there irresolutely, then turn and walk back toward the camera, +registering the fact that she was worried. That sounds simple enough, +doesn't it? +</p> + +<p> +What Luck most wanted was to satisfy himself as to whether Rosemary could +possibly play the part of old Dave's daughter. If she could, he would +sleep sounder that night; if she could not,—Luck was not at all clear as +to what he should do if she failed. He told her just where to walk into +the "scene," which is the range of the camera. He went down part way to +the corral and drew a line with his toe, and told her to stop when she +reached that line and to look away up the trail which wound down among +the rocks and sage. When he called to her she was to turn and walk back, +trying to imagine that she was much worried and disappointed. +</p> + +<p> +"Your dad was to have come last night," Luck suggested. "You tried to +keep him from going in the first place, and now we've got to establish +the fact that he is away behind time getting home. You know, this is +where his horse falls with him, and he lies out all night, and Big +Medicine brings him in next day. You kind of have a hunch that something +is wrong, and you keep looking for him. Sabe." He fussed with the camera, +adjusting it to what seemed to him the right focus. "Want to rehearse it +first?" he added considerately. +</p> + +<p> +"No," Rosemary gasped, "I don't. I know how to walk, and how to turn +around and come back. I've been doing those things for twenty-two years +or so, but Luck Lindsay, if you don't let me do it right away quick, I +just know I'll stub my toe and fall down, or something!" The worst of it +was, she meant what she said. Rosemary, I am sorry to say, was so scared +that her teeth chattered. +</p> + +<p> +"All right, you go on and do it now," Luck permitted, and began to turn +the crank at seventeen in order to hold her action slow, while he watched +her. Groaning inwardly, he continued to turn, while Rosemary went primly +down the winding trail, stood with her toes on the line Luck had marked +for her, gazed stiffly off to the right, and then, when he called to her, +turned and came back, staring fixedly over his head. You have seen little +girls with an agonized self-consciousness walk up an aisle to a platform +where they must bow to their fathers and mothers and their critical +schoolmates and "speak a piece." Rosemary resembled the most bashful +little girl that you can recall. +</p> + +<p> +"All right," said Luck tonelessly, and placed his palm over the lens +while he gave the crank another turn. "We'll try it again to-morrow. +Don't worry. You'll get the hang of it all right." +</p> + +<p> +His very smile, meant to encourage her, brought swift tears that rolled +down and streaked the powder and rouge on her cheeks. She had made a mess +of it all; she knew that just as well as Luck knew it. He gave her +shoulder a reassuring pat as she went by, and that finished Rosemary. She +retreated into the gloomy, one-windowed bedroom with its litter of +half-unpacked suitcases and an overflowing trunk, and she cried +heartbrokenly because she knew she would never in this world be able to +forget that terrible, winking eye and the clicking whirr of Luck's +camera. Just to think of facing it gave her a "goose-flesh" chill,—and +she did so want to help Luck! +</p> + +<p> +With the Happy Family and old Dave, Luck fared better. They, fortunately +for him, were already what he called camera-broke. They could forget all +about the camera while they caught and saddled their horses. They could +mount and ride away unconcernedly without even thinking of trying to act. +Luck's spirits rose a little while he turned the crank, and just for pure +relief at the perfect naturalness of it, he gave that scene an extra ten +feet of footage. +</p> + +<p> +With Applehead he had some difficulty. Applehead looked the part of +sheriff, all right. He wore his trousers tucked inside his boots because +he always wore them so, especially when he rode. He wore his big +six-shooter buckled snugly about his middle instead of dangling far down +his thigh, because he had always worn it that way. He wore his sheriffs +badge pinned on his vest and his coat unbuttoned, so that the wind blew +it open now and then and revealed the star. Altogether he looked exactly +as he had looked when he was serving one of his four terms of office. But +when he faced the camera, he was inclined to strut, and Luck had no +negative to waste. He resorted to strategy, which consisted of a little +wholesome sarcasm. +</p> + +<p> +"Listen, Applehead! the public is going to get the idea that you sure +hate yourself!" he remarked, standing with his hands on his hips while +Applehead came strutting into the foreground. "You'll never make any one +believe you were ever a real, honest-to-God sheriff. They'll put you down +as an extra picked up through a free employment agency and feeling like +you owned the plant because you're earning a couple of dollars. Go back +down there to your horse and wait till some of that importance +evaporates!" +</p> + +<p> +Applehead went off swearing to himself, and Luck got a fifteen-foot +scene of the departure of a very indignant sheriff who is with +difficulty holding his anger subordinate to his official dignity. Before +he had time to recover his usual good humor, Luck with further +disparaging comment called him back. Applehead, smarting under the +sarcasm, came ready for war, and Luck turned the crank until the sheriff +was almost within reach of him. +</p> + +<p> +"Gol darn you, Luck, I'll take that there camery and bust it over your +danged head!" he spluttered. "I'll show ye! Call me a bum that's wearin' +a shurf's star fer the first time in his life, will ye! Why, I'll jest +about wear ye out if—" +</p> + +<p> +"All right, pard; I was just aiming to make you come up looking mad. You +did fine." Luck stopped to roll a smoke as though nothing had occurred +but tiresome routine. +</p> + +<p> +Applehead looked down at him uncertainly. He looked at the Happy Family, +saw them grinning, and gave a mollified chuckle. "We-ell, you was takin' +a danged long chance, now I'm tellin' yuh, boy!" he warned. "I was all +set to tangle with yuh; and if I had, I reckon I'd a spiled something +'fore I got through." +</p> + +<p> +It was noon by the sun, and a film of haze was spreading across the sky. +Luck shot another scene or two and shouldered his precious camera +reluctantly, when Rosemary, red-lidded but elaborately cheerful in her +manner, called them in to dinner. +</p> + +<p> +"She's goin' to storm, shore's you live," Applehead predicted, sniffing +into the wind like a dog confronted by a strange scent. A little later +he looked up from his full plate with a worried air. "How's a storm +goin' to hit ye, Luck?" he asked. "Kinda put a stop to the pitcher +business, won't it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Not if it snows, it won't," Luck answered calmly, helping himself to the +brown beans boiled with bacon. "We'll round up a bunch of cattle, and +I'll shoot my blizzard stuff. I'll need more negative, though, for that. +If I knew for sure it's going to storm—" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm tellin' yuh it is, ain't I?" Applehead blew into his saucer of +coffee,—his table manners not being the nicest in the world. "I kin +smell snow two days off, and that there wind comin' up the canyon has got +snow behind it, now I'm tellin' ye. 'Nother thing, I kin tell by the way +Compadre walks, liftin' his feet high and bushin' up what's left of his +tail. That there cat's smarter'n some humans, and he shore kin smell snow +comin', same's I do. He hates snow worse'n pizen." Applehead drank his +coffee in great gulps. "I'll bet he's huntin' a warm corner somewheres, +right now." +</p> + +<p> +"No, he ain't, by cripes!" Big Medicine corrected him. "That there +Come-Paddy cat of yourn has got worse troubles than snow! Dog's got him +treed up the windmill. I seen—" +</p> + +<p> +Applehead did not wait to hear what Big Medicine had seen. He drank the +remainder of his coffee in one great, scalding gulp, and went out to +rescue his cat and to put the fear of death into the little black dog. +When he returned, puffing a little, to his interrupted meal and had told +them a few of the things he meant to do to that dog if it refused to +mend its ways, he declared again that he could "shore smell snow behind +that wind." +</p> + +<p> +"I wish it would hold off till that raw stock gets here," Luck observed +anxiously. "I wired the order in, but at that I'm afraid it won't get +here before the end of the week. I'll have one of you boys pack me some +water into the dark room so I can develop negatives right after dinner. I +want to see how she's coming out before I take any more." +</p> + +<p> +"I thought Andy'd fixed a hose fer that dark room," Happy Jack said +forebodingly. If there was water to be carried, Happy was pessimistically +certain that he would have to carry it. +</p> + +<p> +"I turned that hose over to the missus for a colander," Andy explained +soberly. "By gracious, I couldn't figure out anything else it could be +used for." +</p> + +<p> +"Did you get the barrels fixed like I said?" +</p> + +<p> +"I sure did. Applehead must have had a Dutch picnic or two out here, +from the number of beer kegs scattered all over the place. And a couple +of big whisky—" +</p> + +<p> +"Them there whisky bar'ls I bought and used fer water bar'ls till I got +my well bored. Luck kin mind the time when we hauled water on a sled outa +the arroyo down below." Applehead's eyes turned anxiously to Rosemary, +toward whom he was beginning to show a timidly worshipful attitude. +</p> + +<p> +"You bet I can. Do you remember the time we hitched that big bronk up +with old Wall-eye, to haul water? Got back here a little ways beyond the +stable with two barrels sloshing over the top, and the cat—not this one, +but a black-and-white cat, that was—the cat jumped out from behind a +buck brush. <i>Hot dog!</i> That bronk went straight in the air! Remember that +time?" Luck leaned back in his chair to laugh. +</p> + +<p> +"I shore do," Applehead chuckled. "Luck, here, he was walkin' behind the +sled and drivin',—and he wasn't as big as he is now, even. That was soon +after he come out here to fatten up like. Little bit of a peaked—why, I +bet he didn't weigh over a hundred pounds after a full meal! He was +ridin' the lines an' steadyin' the bar'ls, busy as a dog at a badger +hole, when the cat jumped out, an' that there bronk r'ared back and swung +off short and hit fur the mesa; and Luck here a-hangin' and hollerin', +an' me a-leggin' it to ketch up, and bar'ls teeterin' and—Mind how you +was bound you'd kill that cat uh mine?" he asked Luck, tears of laughter +dimming his eyes. "That was ole Leather Lungs. He tuk sick an' died, year +after that. Luck shore was mad enough to eat that thar cat, now I'm +tellin' yuh!" +</p> + +<p> +The Happy Family laughed together over the picture Applehead had crudely +painted for them. But Luck, although he had started the story, already +was slipping away from the present and was trying to peer into the +future. He did not even hear what Applehead was saying to keep the boys +in a roar of mirth. He was mentally reckoning the number of days since he +had wired his order for a C.O.D. shipment of negative to be rushed to +Albuquerque. Two days in Los Angeles, getting ready for the venture; two +days on the way to Applehead's ranch, one day here,—five days +altogether. He had told them to rush the order. If they did, there was a +chance that it might have arrived. He decided suddenly to make the trip +and see; but first he would develop the exposed negative of the +forenoon's work. He got up with that businesslike air which the Happy +Family had already begun to recognize as a signal for quick action, and +took off his coat. +</p> + +<p> +"Happy, I wish you and Bud would carry me some water," he said. "I'll +show you where to put it; I'm going to need a lot. Will you help me wind +the film on my patent rack, Andy? And I'll want that little team hitched +to the buckboard so I can go to town after I'm through. I've got some +hopes of my negative being there." +</p> + +<p> +"Want the rest of us to work on that stage, don't you, boss?" Weary +asked, pausing in the doorway to roll a smoke. "And please may I wipe off +my eyebrows?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, sure!—to both questions," answered Luck, going over to his camera. +"I can't do much more till I get more negative, even with the light +right, which it isn't. You go ahead and finish the stage this afternoon. +And be sure the uprights are guyed for a high wind; she sure can blow, in +this man's country." +</p> + +<p> +"You're danged right, she can blow!" Applehead testified emphatically. +"She can blow, and she's goin' to blow. You want to take your overshoes +and mittens, boy, when you start out fer town. You know how cold she can +get on that mesa. Chances are you'll come back facin' a blizzard. And, +say! I wisht you'd take that there dog back with yuh, Luck, 'cause if yuh +don't, him and me's shore goin' to tangle, now I'm tellin' yuh! Mighty +funny note when a cat dassent walk acrost his own dooryard in broad +daylight, no more! Poor ole Compadre was shakin' like a leaf when I clumb +up and got him down of'n the windmill. Way the wind was whistlin' up +there, the chances are he's done ketched cold in 'is tail, and if he has, +yuh better see to it that thar dog ain't within gunshot uh me, now I'm +tellin' yuh!" +</p> + +<p> +Luck did not hear half the tirade. He had gone into the dark room and was +dissolving hypo for the fixing bath, while the boys tramped in with full +water buckets and began to fill the barrels he had placed in a row along +the wall. He was impatient to see how his work of the forenoon would come +out of the developer, and he was quite as impatient to be on his way to +town. Whether he admitted it or not, he had a good deal of faith in +Applehead's weather forecasts; he remembered how often the old fellow had +predicted storms in the past when Luck spent a long winter with him here +in this same adobe dwelling. If it did snow, he must have plenty of +negative for his winter scenes; for snow never laid long on the level +here, and he had a full reel of winter stuff to make. +</p> + +<p> +He called Andy to come and help him wind his exposed film on the crude, +improvised film racks that had lately been beer kegs, and closed the dark +room door upon the last empty bucket that had been carried in full. In +the dull light of the ruby lamp he carefully wound his long strip of +exposed negative, emulsion side out, around the keg which Andy held for +him. His developer bath was ready, and he immersed the film-jacketed keg +slowly, with due regard for bubbles of air. +</p> + +<p> +"You may not know it, but right here in this dark room is where I look +for the real test of success or failure," he confided to Andy, while he +rocked the keg gently in the barrel. "I wish I could afford a good +camera-man; but then, the most of them wouldn't work with this kind of an +outfit; they'd demand all the laboratory conveniences, and that would run +into money. Ever notice that when you can't get anything but the crudest +kind of tools to work with, you generally have to use them yourself? But +it will take more than—oh, <i>hell</i>!" +</p> + +<p> +"What's wrong?" Andy Green bent his brown head anxiously down beside +Luck's fast graying mop of hair, and peered at the images coming out of +the yellowish veil that had hidden them. "Ain't they good?" +</p> + +<p> +Luck reached into the water tank and splashed a little water on his film +to check it while he looked. "Now, what in the name of—" He scowled +perplexedly down at the streaked strips. "What do you suppose streaked it +like that?" He lifted worried, gray eyes to Andy's apprehensive frown, +and looked again disgustedly at the negative before he dropped it back +with a splash into the developer. +</p> + +<p> +"No good; she's ruined," he said in the flat tone of a great +disappointment. "Eighty feet of film gone to granny. Well, that's +luck for you!" +</p> + +<p> +Andy reached gingerly into the barrel and brought up the keg so that +he could take another look. He had owned a kodak for years and had +done enough amateur developing to know that something had gone very +wrong here. +</p> + +<p> +"What ails the darned thing?" he asked fretfully, turning to Luck, who +was scowling abstractedly into his barrels of "soup." +</p> + +<p> +"You can search me," Luck replied dully. "Looks like I'd been stung with +a bunch of bum chemicals. Either that, or something's wrong with our +tanks here." He reached down and pulled up the keg by its hooped top, +glimpsed a stain on his finger and thumb and let the keg slip hastily +over into the pure water so that he could examine the stains. +</p> + +<p> +"Iron! Iron, sure as thunder!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Those iron hoops +are what did it." He rubbed his hand vexedly. "I knew better than that, +too. I don't see why I didn't think about those hoops. Of all the +idiotic, fool—" +</p> + +<p> +"What kinda brain do you think you've got in your head, anyway?" Andy +broke in spiritedly. "Way you've been working it lately, engineering +every blamed detail yourself, you oughtn't to wonder if one little thing +gets by you." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it's done now," Luck dismissed the accident stoically. "Lucky I +started in on those costume and make-up tests of all you fellows, and +that scene of your wife's. And if I'd used the other half barrel instead +of this five-gallon keg for a start-off, I'd have spoiled the whole +bunch. I'll have to throw out all that developer. Blast the luck! Well, +let's get busy." He pulled out the keg and held it up for another +disgusted look. "I won't bother fixing that at all. Call Happy and Bud +back, will you, and have them roll this barrel of developer out and ditch +it? And then take those two half barrels you were going to fix, and wrap +them with clothesline,—that cotton line on one of the trunks,—and knock +off all the hoops. I'm going to beat it to 'Querque and see if that +stuff's there. We'll try developing the rest this evening, after I get +back. Darn such luck!" +</p> + +<p> +The five thousand feet of negative had not arrived, but there was a +letter from the company saying that they had shipped it. Luck, bone-tired +and cold from his fifteen-mile drive across the unsheltered mesa, turned +away from the express office, debating whether to wait for the film or go +back to the ranch. It would be a pretty cold drive back, in the edge of +the evening and facing that raw wind; he decided that he would save time +by waiting here in town, since he could not go on with his picture +without more negative. He turned back impulsively, put his head in at the +door of the express office, and called to the clerk: +</p> + +<p> +"When do you get your next express from the East, brother? I'll wait for +that negative if you think it's likely to come by to-morrow noon or +there-abouts." +</p> + +<p> +"Might come in on the eight o'clock train to-night, or to-morrow morning. +You say it was shipped the sixteenth? Ought to be here by morning, sure." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll take a chance," Luck said half to himself, and closed the door. +</p> + +<p> +A round-shouldered, shivering youth, who had been leaning apathetically +against the side of the building, moved hesitatingly up to him. "Say, +do I get it right that you're in the movies?" he inquired anxiously. +"Heard you mention looking for negative. Haven't got a job for a +fellow, have you?" +</p> + +<p> +Luck wheeled and looked him over, from his frowsy, soft green beaver hat +with the bow at the back, to his tan pumps that a prosperous young man +would have thrown back in the closet six weeks before, as being out of +season. The young man grinned his understanding of the appraisement, and +Luck saw that his teeth were well-kept, and that his nails were clean and +trimmed carefully. He made a quick mental guess and hit very close to the +fellow's proper station in life and his present predicament. +</p> + +<p> +"What end of the business do you know?" he asked, turning his face toward +the warmth of the hotel. +</p> + +<p> +"Operator. Worked two years at the Bijou in Cleveland. I'm down on my +luck now; thought I'd try the California studios, because I wanted to +learn the camera, and I figured on getting a look at the Fair. I stalled +around out there till my money gave out, and then I started back to God's +country." He shrugged his shoulders cynically. "This is about as far as +I'm likely to get, unless I can learn to do without eating and a few +other little luxuries," he summed up the situation grimly. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it won't hurt you to skip a lesson and have dinner with me," Luck +suggested in the offhand way that robbed the invitation of the sting of +charity. "I always did hate to eat alone." +</p> + +<p> +The upshot of the meeting was that, when Luck gathered up the lines, next +day, and popped the short lash of Applehead's home-made whip over the +backs of the little bay team, and told them to "Get outa town!" in a tone +that had in it a boyish note of exultation, the thin youth hung to the +seat of the bouncing buckboard and wondered if Luck really could drive, +or if he was half "stewed" and only imagined he could. The thin youth had +much to learn besides the science of photography and some of it he +learned during that fifteen-mile drive. For one thing, he learned that +really Luck could drive. Luck proved that by covering the fifteen miles +in considerably less than an hour and a half without losing any of his +precious load of boxed negative and coiled garden hose and assistant +camera-man,—since that was what he intended to make of the thin youth. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER TWELVE +<br><br> +"I THINK YOU NEED INDIAN GIRL FOR PICTURE" +</h3> + +<p> +Still it did not snow, though the wind blew from the storm quarter, and +Applehead sniffed it and made predictions, and Compadre went with his +remnant of tail ruffed like a feather boa. Immediately after supper Luck +attached his new hose to the tank faucet and developed the corral scenes +which he had taken, with the thin youth taking his first lesson in the +dark room. The thin youth, who said his name was Bill Holmes, did not +have very much to say, but he seemed very quick to grasp all that Luck +told him. That kept Luck whistling softly between sentences, while they +wound the negative around the roped half barrel that had not so much as a +six penny nail in it this time, so thoroughly did Andy do his work. +</p> + +<p> +The whistling ceased abruptly when Luck examined his film by the light of +the ruby lamp, however, for every scene was over-exposed and worthless. +Luck realized when he looked at it that the light was much stronger than +any he had ever before photographed by, and that he would have to "stop +down" hereafter; the problem was, how much. His light tests, he +remembered, had been made rather late in the afternoon, when the light +was getting yellow, and he had blundered in forgetting that the forenoon +light was not the same. +</p> + +<p> +He went ahead and put the film through the fixing bath and afterwards +washed it carefully, more for the practice and to show Bill Holmes how to +handle the negative than for any value the film would have. He discovered +that Andy had not unpacked the rewinding outfit, but since he would not +need it until his negative was dry, he made no comment on the subject. +Bill Holmes kept at his heels, helping when he knew what to do, asking a +question now and then, but silent for the most part. Luck felt extremely +optimistic about Bill Holmes, but for all that he was depressed by his +second failure to produce good film. A camera-man, he felt in his heart, +might be the determining factor for success; but he was too stubborn to +admit it openly or even to consider sending for one, even if he could +have managed to pay the seventy-five dollars a week salary for the time +it would take to produce the Big Picture. He could easier afford to waste +a few hundred feet of negative now, he argued to himself. +</p> + +<p> +"Come on down, and I'll show you what I can about the camera," he said to +Bill Holmes. "The light's too tricky to-day to work by, but I'll give you +a few pointers that you'll have to keep in mind when I'm too busy to +think about telling you. Once I get to directing a scene, I'm liable to +be busy as a one-armed prospector fighting a she-bear with cubs. I'm +counting on you to remember what all I'va told you, in case I forget to +tell you again. You see, I've ruined a hundred and fifty feet of negative +already, just by overlooking a couple of bets. You're here to help keep +that from happening again. <i>Sabe</i>?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, there's one or two things I don't have to learn," Bill Holmes told +him by way of encouragement. "You get the camera set and ready, and I can +turn it any speed you want. I'll guarantee that much. I learned that all +right in projection." +</p> + +<p> +"That's exactly why I brought you out here, brother," Luck assured him. +"That's why—" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Luck Lindsay!" came Rosemary's voice excitedly. "Mr. Forrman wants +you right away quick! Somebody's coming that he doesn't know, and he says +it's up to you!" +</p> + +<p> +"What's up to me?" Luck came hurrying down the ladder backwards. "Has +Applehead gone as crazy as his cat? I've nothing to do with strangers +coming to the ranch." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," said Rosemary, twinkling her brown eyes at him, "but this is a +woman. Mr. Forrman refuses to take any responsibility—" +</p> + +<p> +"So do I. I don't know of any woman that's liable to come trailing me up. +Where is she?" +</p> + +<p> +From the doorway Rosemary pointed dramatically, and Luck went up and +stood beside her, rolling down his sleeves while he stared at the trail. +Down the slope, head bent to the whooping wind, a woman came walking with +a free, purposeful stride that spoke eloquently of accustomedness to the +open land. Her skirts flapped but could not impede her movements. She +seemed to be carrying some bright-hued burden upon her shoulders, and she +was, without doubt, coming straight down to the ranch as to a +much-desired goal. +</p> + +<p> +"You can search me," he said emphatically in answer to Applehead's +question. "Must be some <i>señora</i> away off the trail. I never saw her +before in my life." +</p> + +<p> +"We-ell, now, that there lady don't act like she's lost," Applehead +declared, watching her intently as she came on. "Aims to git whar she's +goin', if I'm any jedge of actions. An' she shore is hittin' fur here. +Ain't been ary woman on this ranch in ten year, till Mrs. Green come +t'other day." +</p> + +<p> +"She's none of my funeral; I don't know her from Adam," Luck disclaimed, +and went back into the dark room as though be had urgent business there, +which he had not. In the back of his mind was an uneasy feeling that the +newcomer was "some of his funeral," and yet he could not tell how or why +she should be. In her walk there was a teasing sense of familiarity; he +did not know who she was, but he felt uncomfortably that he ought to +know. He fumbled among the litter on the shelf, putting things in order; +and all the while his ears were sharpened to the sounds that came muffled +through the closed door. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Luck Lindsay!" came Rosemary's voice at last, with what Luck fancied +was a malicious note in it. "You're wanted out here!" +</p> + +<p> +Luck fumbled for a minute longer while he racked his brain for some clue +to this woman's identity. For a man who has lived the varied life Luck +had lived, his conscience was remarkably clean; but no one enjoys having +mystery stalk unawares up to one's door. However, he opened the door and +went out, feeling sensitively the curious expectancy of the Happy Family, +and faced the woman who stood just beyond the doorway. One look, and he +stopped dead still in the middle of the room. "Well, I'll be darned!" he +said in a hushed tone of blank amazement. +</p> + +<p> +The woman's black eyes lighted as though flames had darted up behind +them. "How, <i>Cola</i>?" she greeted him in the soft, cooing tones of the +younger Indians whose voices have not yet grown shrill and harsh. +"Wagalexa Conka!" It was the tribal name given him in great honor by his +Indians of Pine Ridge Agency. +</p> + +<p> +Through his astonishment, Luck's face glowed at the words. He went up and +put out his hand, impelled by the hospitality which is an unwritten law +of the old West, and is not to be broken save for good cause. +</p> + +<p> +"How! How!" he answered her greeting. "You long ways from home, +Annie-Many-Ponies!" +</p> + +<p> +Annie-Many-Ponies smiled in a way to make Happy Jack gulp with a sudden +emotion he would have denied. She flashed a quick glance around at the +curious faces that regarded her so intently, and she eased her +shawl-wrapped burden to the ground with the air of one who has reached +her journey's end. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I plenty long ways," she assented placidly. "I don't stay by +reservation no more. Too lonesome. One night I beat it. I work for you +now." +</p> + +<p> +"How you know you work for me?" Luck felt nine pairs of eyes trying to +read his face. "That's bad, you run away. You better go back, +Annie-Many-Ponies. Your father—" +</p> + +<p> +"Nah!" Annie-Many-Ponies cried in swift rebellion. "I work for you all +time, I no want monies. I got plenty wardrobe; you give me plenty grub; I +work for you. I think you need him Indian girl in picture. I think you +plenty sorry all Indians go by reservation. You no like for Indians go +home," she stated with soft sympathy. "I sabe you not got monies for pay +all thems Indians. I come be Indian girl for you; I not want monies. You +let me stay—Wagalexa Conka!" +</p> + +<p> +"You come in and eat, Annie-Many-Ponies," Luck commanded with more +gentleness than he was accustomed to show. The girl must have followed +him all the way from Los Angeles, and she must have walked all the way +out from Albuquerque. All this she seemed to take for granted, a mere +detail of no importance beside her certainty that although he had no +money to pay the Indians, he must surely need an Indian girl in his +pictures. Loyalty always touched Luck deeply. He had brought the little +black dog back with him and hidden it in the stable, just because the dog +had followed him all around town and had seemed so pleased when Luck was +loading the buckboards for the return trip. He could not logically +repulse the manifest friendliness of Annie-Many-Ponies. +</p> + +<p> +He introduced her formally to Rosemary, and was pleased when Rosemary +smiled and shook hands without the slightest hesitation. The Happy Family +he lumped together in one sentence. "All these my company," he told her. +"You eat now. By and by I think you better go home." +</p> + +<p> +Annie-Many-Ponies looked at him with smoldering eyes, standing in the +middle of the kitchen, refusing to sit down to the table until the main +question was settled. +</p> + +<p> +"Why you say that?" she demanded, drawing her brows down sullenly. "You +got plenty more Indian girls?" +</p> + +<p> +Luck shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +"You think me not good-looking any more?" With her two slim brown hands +she pushed back the shawl from her hair and challenged criticism of her +beauty. She was beautiful,—there was no gain saying that; she was so +beautiful that the sight of her, standing there like an indignant young +Minnehaha, tingled the blood of more than one of the Happy Family. "You +think I so homely I spoil your picture?" +</p> + +<p> +"I think you must not run away from the reservation," Luck parried, +refusing to be cajoled by her anger or her beauty. "You always were a +good girl, Annie-Many-Ponies. Long time ago, when you were little girl +with the Buffalo Bill show, you were good. You mind what Wagalexa +Conka say?" +</p> + +<p> +Annie-Many-Ponies bent her head. "I mind you now, Wagalexa Conka," she +told him quickly. "You tell me ride down that big hill," she threw one +hand out toward the bluff that sheltered the house. "I sure ride down +like hell. I care not for break my neck, when you want big 'punch' in +picture. You tell me be homely old squaw like Mrs. Ghost-Dog, I be homely +so dogs yell to look on me. I mind you plenty—but I do not go by +reservation no more." +</p> + +<p> +"Yow father be mad—I let you stay, he maybe shoot me," Luck argued, +secretly flattered by her persistence. +</p> + +<p> +Annie-Many-Ponies smiled,—a slow, sphinx-like smile, mysteriously sweet +and lingering. "Nah! Not shoot you. I write one letters, say I go work +for you. Now you write one letter by Agent, say you let me stay, say I +work for you, say I good girl, say I be Indian girl for your picture. I +mind you plenty, Wagalexa Conka!" She smiled again coaxingly, like a +child. "I like you," she stated simply. "You good man. You need Indian +girl, I think. I work for you. My father not be mad; my father know you +good man for Indians." +</p> + +<p> +Luck turned from her and gave the Happy Family a pathetic, +what's-a-fellow-going-to-do look that made Andy Green snort unexpectedly +and go outside. One by one the others followed him, grinning shamelessly +at Luck's helplessness. In a moment he overtook them, wanting the support +of their judgment. +</p> + +<p> +"The worst of it is," he confessed, after he had explained how he had +known the girl since she was a barefooted papoose with the "Bill" show, +and he was Indian Agent there; "the worst of it is, she's a humdinger in +pictures. She gets over big in foreground stuff. Rides like a whirlwind, +and as for dramatic work, she can put it over half the leading women in +the business—that is, in her line of Pocohontas stuff." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, why don't you let her stay?" Weary demanded. "She will +anyway—mama! We're not what you can call over-run with women on +this job." +</p> + +<p> +"Why don't you make a squaw-man outa Dave?" Pink suggested boldly, "and +let her be his daughter instead of Rosemary?" +</p> + +<p> +"Say, what does that there walka-some-darn-thing mean, that she +calls yuh?" Big Medicine wanted to know. "By cripes, I hate talk I +don't savey." +</p> + +<p> +"Wagalexa Conka?" Luck smiled shamefacedly. "Oh, that's just a name the +Indians gave me. Means Big Turkey, in plain English. Her father, old +Chief Big Turkey, adopted me into the tribe, and they call me by his +name. Annie-Many-Ponies has heard it used ever since she was a kid. By +tribal law I'm her brother. Well, what's the word, boys? Shall we let +her stay or not? We could use her, all right, and put a dash of +old-plains' color in the picture that I haven't got, as it stands. It's +up to you to decide." +</p> + +<p> +"You're wrong," Pink grinned. "She's decided that, herself. Gee, +she's pretty!" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly she is; but get this, boys: She isn't going to stay just +because she's pretty, and if I had a different bunch than you fellows, +she'd have to go for that reason. I'm responsible for her—<i>sabe?</i> Bill +Holmes, you get this; I saw you eyeing her pretty strong. That girl is +the daughter of an influential chief, and she comes pretty near being the +pride of the reservation. There can't be any romantic stuff, if they let +her stay. Her father and the Agent will consent, if they do consent, on +the strength of the confidence they have in me. They're going to keep +that confidence. Get that, and get it strong, because I sure mean what +I'm telling you." He eased the tenseness with a laugh. "I don't mean to +offend anybody," he said, "and that's why I'm putting it straight before +the play comes up. Annie-Many-Ponies has got a heart-twisting smile, but +she's a squaw just the same. She's got the ways of the Injun to the +marrow of her bones, and I'll bet right now if you were to shake her hard +enough, you'd jingle a knife out of her clothes." He stopped and lighted +the cigarette he had been carefully rolling. "Well," he finished after +the pause, "does she stay or go?" +</p> + +<p> +The Happy Family answered him with, various phrases, the meaning of which +was that he could suit himself about that; as far as they were concerned, +she could stay and welcome. +</p> + +<p> +So she stayed, and Rosemary hung up a calico curtain across the one +bedroom, so that Annie-Many-Ponies might have a corner to call her own. +She stayed; and Luck rewrote two reels of his scenario so that there +should be a place in it for a beautiful Indian girl who rode like a +whirlwind and did not know the meaning of fear, and who had a mind of her +own, and who was just exactly as harmless in that camp as half a quart of +nitroglycerine, and added thereby a good bit to the load of +responsibility which Luck was shouldering. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER THIRTEEN +<br><br> +"PAM. BLEAK MESA—CATTLE DRIFTING BEFORE WIND—" +</h3> + +<p> +"Pam. bleak mesa—snow—cattle drifting before wind. Dale and Johnny dis. +riding to foreground. Reg. cold—horses leg-weary—boys all in—" +</p> + +<p> +Out toward Bear Canyon, where the land to the north rose brokenly to the +mountains, Luck found the bleak stretches of which he had dreamed that +night on the observation platform of a train speeding through the night +in North Dakota,—a great white wilderness unsheltered by friendly +forests, uninhabited save by wild things that moved stealthily across its +windswept ridges. Beyond, the mountains rose barrenly, more bleak than +the land that lay at their feet. +</p> + +<p> +"Pam. bleak mesa—snow—" With the camera set halfway up a gentle slope +commanding a steeper hill beyond, down which the boys would send the +cattle in a slow, uneasy march before the storm, Luck focused his +telephoto lens upon bleakness enough to satisfy even his voracious +appetite for realism. Bill Holmes, his tan pumps wrapped in gunny sacks +for protection against the snow that was a foot deep on the level and +still falling, thrashed his body with his arms, like a windmill whose +paddles have suddenly gone limp in a high wind. When he was ready, Luck +stopped long enough to blow on his fingers and to turn and watch for the +signal from Annie-Many-Ponies, stationed on a higher ridge to the right +of him,—the signal that the cattle were coming. +</p> + +<p> +Through the drive of the snowstorm he saw her tall, straight figure as +through a thin, shifting, white veil. The little black dog, for whom she +had conceived a fierce affection in defiance of Rosemary's tacit +opposition, was lying with its tail curled tight around its feet and its +nose, hunting warmth in the shelter of her flapping garments. +Annie-Many-Ponies was staring away to the north, shielding her keen eyes +from the snow with one slim, brown hand, while she watched for the coming +of the herd. +</p> + +<p> +Luck looked at her, silhouetted against the sky. He had no scene written +in his script to match the picture she made; he had no negative to waste. +But he swung his camera around and, using the telephoto lens he had +adjusted for his cattle scenes, he called to her to hold that pose, and +indulged his artistic sense in a ten-or-twelve foot scene which showed +Annie-Many-Ponies wholly absorbed in gazing upon farther bleakness. +</p> + +<p> +Annie-Many-Ponies was so keenly conscious of her duty to the camera that +she dared not break her pose, even to give the signal, until he had +yelled, "All right, Annie!" and swung the camera back with its recording +eye fixed upon that narrow depression between two blunt ears of hilltop, +through which the herd was to be sent down to the ridge and on past the +camera to the flat, where other scenes were to be taken later on, when +the cattle were hungry enough to browse miserably upon the bosquet of +young cotton woods. +</p> + +<p> +"Cows come!" she called out, because Luck had his back to her at the +moment and did not see the wave of hand she had been told to give him. +</p> + +<p> +Luck, squinting into the view-finder, caught the swaying vanguard of the +herd and swore. He had meant to "pan. bleak mesa" for half a minute +before those swaying heads and horns appeared over the brow of the +ridge. Now, even though he began to turn the crank the instant he +glimpsed them, he would not have quite the effect which he had meant to +have. He would be compelled to make two scenes of it, and pan. his bleak +mesa afterwards and trust to a "cut-in scene" to cover the break. He did +not trust Bill Holmes to turn the crank on that slow, plodding march of +misery. With his diaphragm of the camera wide open to get all the light +possible, because the air was filled with falling snow, he followed the +herd, as it wound snakelike down the easiest descents, making for the +more sheltered small canyons that opened out upon the flat. "Cattle +drifting before the wind," read the script; and now Luck saw them +coming, their snow-whitened backs humped to the driving storm, heads +lowered and swaying weakly from side to side with the shambling motion +of their feet. They were drifting before the wind, just as he had +planned that they should do. That they shuffled wearily down that hill +with poor cows and unweaned calves straggling miserably behind the main +body in "the drag herd," proved how well the boys had done the work +which he had sent them out at daylight to do. +</p> + +<p> +The boys had gone out, under the leadership of Applehead, who knew that +range as he knew his own dooryard, just when daylight began to break +coldly upon the storm that had come with the sunset. Luck had already +ridden out with them and had chosen his location for the blizzard scenes. +</p> + +<p> +He had gone with them over every foot of that drive, and had told them +just where the main body of riders was to fall back behind the ridge that +would hide them from the camera, leaving Andy Green and the Native +Son—since these were the two whom he always visualized in the scene—to +come on alone in the wake of the herd. Under the leadership of old +Applehead, they had combed every draw that sheltered so much as a lone +cow and calf. +</p> + +<p> +Luck had told them to bring in every hoof they could spot and get +over that ridge by ten o'clock. He had a nervous dread of the storm +breaking before noon, and his heart was set on getting that +never-to-be-successfully-faked blizzard scene. Realism ruled him +absolutely, now that he was actually producing some of the big scenes of +this picture. He had told them just where to watch for Annie-Many-Ponies +and the flag she would wave,—a black flag, so that the boys could not +fail to see it in the vague whiteness of the storm. He had located the +jutting ledge behind which Happy Jack was to sneak, that he might watch +for the signal as an extra precaution against an unseasonable appearance +of the two riders over the ridge. +</p> + +<p> +When the herd straggled down in what seemed an endless stream of +storm-driven animals, Luck knew that the boys had done their work well. +He knew cattle as he knew pictures; he knew that a full two thousand came +over that ridge through a shallow pass he had chosen, "'Every hoof' is +right," he remarked to Bill Holmes with a dry approval. "I'd hate to go +hunting meat where that bunch was gathered from. Looks like they'd combed +the country for fifty miles around." He sent a quick glance to the +pinnacle where Annie-Many-Ponies stood waiting to give the signal. He +wished that she had realized the importance of these cattle scenes keenly +enough to have given him the signal at the cost of breaking her pose. But +he had only himself to blame. He should not have taken the risk, even +though he had believed that the cattle would not arrive for another half +hour. He should have been ready; he had told the boys to send them right +over the ridge when they came up to it, because he wanted to preserve +unbroken that indescribable atmosphere of a long, weary journey. +</p> + +<p> +Still they came; a good twenty-five hundred, he was ready to wager, when +the last few stragglers, so weak that they wobbled when they hesitated +before descending a particularly steep place, came down the slope. It +surely did eat up film to take the full magnitude of that march, but Luck +turned and turned and gloated in the bigness of it all. +</p> + +<p> +"All right, Annie," he called out when he had taken the last of the herd +as they filed out of sight into the narrow gully that would lead them to +the flat half a mile below, where he meant to get other scenes. "Wave +flag now for boys to come!" +</p> + +<p> +Annie-Many-Ponies lifted high the black flag and waved it in slow, +sweeping half circles above her head. "Boys, come," she called, a +moment after. +</p> + +<p> +Luck, still not trusting the camera to Bill Holmes, swung back slowly +to the pass and made a panorama of the desolate hillside and the +chill, forbidding mountains behind. At the pass he stopped. "How +close?" he shouted to Annie. "Come now," she called down to him, and +Luck began to turn the crank again, watching like a hawk for the first +bobbing black specks which would show that the boys were nearing the +crest of the ridge. +</p> + +<p> +They came, on the very instant that he would have chosen for their +coming. Side by side they rode, drooping of shoulders, and yet with their +bodies braced backward for the descent which at the top was rather steep. +"Register cold—horses leg-weary—boys all in—" read the script which +Luck knew by heart. It was cold enough, and the camera must have +registered it in the way the snow was heaped upon their hatbrims, drifted +upon their shoulders, packed in the wrinkles of their clothing and in the +manes and tails of the horses. And the horses certainly were leg-weary; +so weary that Luck knew how the boys must have ridden to gather the +cattle and to put their mounts in that condition of realistic exhaustion. +In the story they were supposed to have ridden nearly all night,—the +night-guard who had been on duty when the storm struck and the cattle +began to drift, and who had stuck to their posts even though they could +not turn the herd. +</p> + +<p> +That might be stretching the probabilities just a shade, but Luck felt +that the effects he wanted to get justified the slight license he had +used in his plot. The effects were there, in generous measure. He +turned the crank on the whole of their descent and got them riding up +into the foreground pinched with cold, miserable as men may be. They +did not look at him—they dared not until he had given the word that +the scene was ended. +</p> + +<p> +"Ride on past, down into that gully where the cattle went," he directed +them sharply. "I'll holler when you're outa sight. You can turn around +and come back then; the scene ends where your hat-crowns bob outa sight. +And listen! You're liable to lose your cattle if you don't spur up a +little, so try and get a little speed into them cayuses of yours!" +</p> + +<p> +Obediently Andy's quirt rose and descended on the flank of his horse. It +started, broke into a shuffling trot, and slowed again to a walk. There +was no speed to be gotten out of those cayuses,—which was what Luck +meant to show on the screen; for this, you must know, was the painting of +one grim phase of the range-man's life. The Native Son spurred his horse +and got a lunge or two that settled presently to the same plodding walk. +Luck pammed them out of sight, bethought him of the rest of the boys, and +commanded Annie-Many-Ponies to call them in. +</p> + +<p> +They came, half frozen, half starved, and so tired they did not know +which discomfort irked them most. They found Luck; his nose purple with +cold marking the footage on his working script with numbed fingers. He +barely glanced at them, and turned away to tell Bill Holmes to take the +camera on down the draw to where that huddle of rocks stood up on the +hillside. Andy and Miguel came back and met the others halfway. +</p> + +<p> +"Say, boss, when do we eat?" Big Medicine inquired anxiously. "By cripes, +I'm holler plumb down to my toes,—and them's froze stiff." +</p> + +<p> +"Eat? We eat when we get these storm scenes taken," Luck told him +heartlessly. "I'm afraid it'll clear up." +</p> + +<p> +"Afraid it'll clear up!" Pink burrowed his chin deeper into his +breath-frosted collar and shivered. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, quit kicking," the Native Son advised ironically. "We're only living +some of Luck's big minutes he used to tell about." +</p> + +<p> +Luck looked around at them and grinned a little. "Part of the business, +boys," he said. "Think of the picture stuff there is in this storm!" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, sure!" Weary responded with exaggerated cheerfulness. "I've been +freezing artistically ever since daylight. Darn me for leaving my old +sourdough coat at home when I hit for the land of orange blossoms and +singing birds and sunshine." +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, gwan! I never was warm a minute in Los Angeles except when I got hot +at the Acme. Montana never seen the day it was as cold as here." +</p> + +<p> +"Come on, boys, let's get these dissolve scenes of cattle perishing in a +blizzard. After that—hey, Annie! You come, make plenty fire, plenty +coffee. I show you location." +</p> + +<p> +Annie called gently to the little dog, and came striding down through the +snow to fall in docilely three paces behind her adored "brother," +Wagalexa Conka after the submissive manner of squaws toward the human +male in authority over them. +</p> + +<p> +"Coffee!" Weary murmured ecstatically. "Plenty fire, plenty +coffee—oh, mama!" +</p> + +<p> +Down in the flat where the bushes grew sparsely along the tiny arroyo now +gone dry, the herd had stopped from sheer exhaustion, and were already +nibbling desultorily upon the tenderest twigs. This was what Luck wanted +in his scene, though the cattle must be moved into the location he had +chosen where was just the background effect he wanted to get, with the +bare mesa showing in the far distance. There was a dreary interval of +riding and shouting and urging the cattle up over a low spur of the bluff +and down the other side, and the placing of them to Luck's satisfaction. +I fear that more than one of the boys wondered why that first bit of the +flat would not do, and why Luck insisted that they should bring the herd +to one particular point and no other, and why they must wear out their +horses, and themselves just fussing around among the cattle, scattering +one bunch, bringing others closer together, and driving certain animals +up to foreground, when they very much objected to going there. +</p> + +<p> +Luck had concealed his camera behind the rocks so that he could get a +"close shot" without registering the fact that the cattle were watching +him. His commands to "Edge that black steer over about even with that +white bank!" and later, "Put that cow and calf out this way and drive the +others back a little, so she will have the immediate foreground to +herself," were easier given than obeyed. The cow and calf, for instance, +were much inclined to shamble back with the others, and did not show any +appreciation for the foreground, wherein they were vastly unlike any +other "extras" ever brought before a camera. Still, in spite of all these +drawbacks, the moment arrived when Luck began to turn the crank with his +eyes keen for every detail of that bunch of forlorn, hungry, range cattle +huddled under the scant shelter of a ten-foot bank, while the snows fell +steadily in great flakes which Luck knew would give a grand storm-effect +on the screen. The Happy Family, free for the moment, crowded close to +the fire of dead sagebrush which Annie-Many-Ponies had lighted in the lee +of a high rock, and sniffed longingly at the smell which came steaming up +from the dented two-gallon coffee-boiler blackened from many a camp fire. +</p> + +<p> +Luck was turning the crank and watching his "foreground stuff" so that he +did not at first see the two riders who came loping down the hill which +he was using for background. Whether he would or no, he had got them in +several feet of good scene before he saw them and stopped his camera. He +shouted, but they came on headlong, slipping and sliding in the loose +snow. There could be no doubt that they were headed straight for the +group and felt that their business was urgent, so Luck stepped out from +behind the rocks and started toward them, motioning for them to keep out, +away from the cattle. +</p> + +<p> +"Better let me git in the lead right now," Applehead advised hastily, and +jumped in front of Luck as the two came lunging up. "I know these here +<i>hombres</i>, to my sorrer, too, now I'm tellin' yuh!" +</p> + +<p> +But Luck, feeling that his leadership might as well be established then +as any time, pushed the old man back. +</p> + +<p> +"What you want?" he demanded of the foremost who rode up. "Didn't you +hear me tell you to keep out around the cattle?" +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Adonde va V con mi vaca</i>?" snapped the first rider in high-keyed +Spanish. +</p> + +<p> +"My brother say where you go with our cattle?" interrupted the other one, +evidently proud of his English. +</p> + +<p> +"I know what he said," Luck snubbed this one bluntly. "I don't know that +they are your cattle. I don't care. We're using them to make motion +pictures. Get outa the way so we can go on with our work." Had he not +spoiled several feet of film because of their coming he might have been +more inclined to placate them. As it was, he did not welcome their +interference, he did not like their looks, and their tones were to his +temper as tow would be to a fire. Their half Mexican, half American dress +irritated him; the interruption exasperated him. He was hungry and cold +and keyed to a high nervous tension in his anxiety to make the most of +his present big opportunity; he knew too well that he might not have +another chance all winter, with the snow falling as if under his +direction. +</p> + +<p> +"Get over there outa range of the camera!" he commanded them sharply, +"then you can spout Mex. till you're black in the face, for all I care. +I'm busy." To make himself absolutely understood he repeated the gist of +his remarks in Spanish before he turned his back on them to finish his +interrupted scene. +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon one swore in Spanish and the other in English, and they both +declared that they would take their cattle right now, and reined their +horses toward the shifting herd. +</p> + +<p> +"Hold on thar, Ramone Chavez!" shouted Applehead, striding forward. +"Didn't you hear the boss tell ye to git outa the way, both of yuh? Yuh +better do it, now I'm tellin' yuh, 'cause if yuh don't, they's goin' to +be right smart of a runction around here! A good big share uh them thar +cattle belongs to me. Don't ye go messin' in there amongst 'em; you jest +ride back outa the way uh that thar camery. Git!" +</p> + +<p> +At Applehead's command they "got," at least as far as the camp fire, +where the bright shawl of Annie-Many-Ponies caught and held their +interest. Annie-Many-Ponies, being a woman who had both youth and +beauty and sensed instinctively the value of both, sent a slant-eyed +glance and a half smile toward Ramone, who possessed more good looks +and more English than his brother. The Happy Family eyed them with a +tolerant indifference and moved aside with reluctant hospitality when +Ramone dismounted shiveringly and came forward to warm his fingers over +the blaze. +</p> + +<p> +"She's cold day, you bet," Ramone remarked ingratiatingly. +</p> + +<p> +"She ain't what you could call hot," Big Medicine conceded drily, since +no one else showed any disposition to reply. +</p> + +<p> +"We don't get much snow like this. You live in Albuquerque, perhaps?" +</p> + +<p> +There was really no excuse for snubbing these two, who had been well +within their rights in making an investigation of this unheralded and +unauthorized gathering of all the cattle on this range. Andy told Ramone +where they were staying and where they came from, and let it go at that. +The less Americanized brother dismounted and joined the group with a nod +of greeting. +</p> + +<p> +"My brother Tomas," announced Ramone, with a flash of white teeth, his +eyes shifting unobtrusively toward Annie-Many-Ponies, who wore a secret, +half-smiling air of provocative interest in him. "Not spik much English, +my brother. Always stay too much at home. Me, I travel all over—Denver, +Los Angeles, San Francisco. I ride in all contests—Pueblo, San +Antonio—all over. Tomas, he go not so often. His head, all for +business—making money—get rich some day. Me, I spend. My hand wide open +always. Money slip fast." +</p> + +<p> +"There's plenty of us marked that way," Weary made good-natured comment, +turning so that his back might feel the heat of the fire. +</p> + +<p> +"Shunka Chistala!" murmured Annie-Many-Ponies in her soft contralto to +the little black dog, and moved away to the mountain wagon, with the dog +following close to her moccasined heels. +</p> + +<p> +Ramone looked after her with frank surprise at the strange words. "Not +Spanish, then?" he ventured. +</p> + +<p> +"Indian," the Native Son explained briefly, and added, perhaps for +reasons of his own, "Sioux squaw." +</p> + +<p> +Ramone very wisely let his curiosity rest there. He had a good excuse, +for Luck, having finished work for the time being, came tramping over to +the fire. At him Ramone glanced apologetically. +</p> + +<p> +"We borrow comfort from your fire, <i>señor</i>," he said indifferently. +"She's bad day for riding." +</p> + +<p> +Luck nodded, already ashamed of having lost his temper, yet not at the +point of yielding openly to any overtures for peace. "Soon as we eat," he +said to Weary and those others who stood nearest, "I'll have you cut out +that poor cow and calf and drive 'em down the flat here, so I can get +that other scene I was telling you about." +</p> + +<p> +"Wagalexa Conka, here is plenty hot coffee," came a soft voice at his +elbow, and Luck turned with a smile to take the steaming cup from the +hand of Annie-Many-Ponies. +</p> + +<p> +The Native Son poured a cup and offered it to Tomas Chavez. "<i>Quire +cafe</i>?" he asked. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Si, señor; Gracias</i>." Tomas smiled, and took the cup and bowed. +Annie-Many-Ponies herself, with a sidelong glance at Luck to see if she +might dare, carried the biggest cup of coffee to Ramone, and smiled +demurely when he took it and looked into her eyes and thanked her. +</p> + +<p> +In this fashion did the social sky clear, even though the snow continued +to drive against those who broke bread together out there in the dreary +wastes, with the snow halfway to their knees. The Native Son, being half +Spanish and knowing well the language of his father, talked a little with +Tomas. Ramone made himself friendly with any one who would give him any +attention. But Applehead scowled over his boiled-beef sandwich and his +coffee, and kept his back turned upon the Chavez brothers, and would not +talk at all. He eyed them sourly when they still loitered after the meal +was over and the remains packed away in the box by Annie-Many-Ponies, and +Luck had gone to work again with Bill Holmes at his heels and the boys +helping to place the cattle to Luck's liking. +</p> + +<p> +When the Chavez brothers finally did show symptoms of intending to leave, +Luck beckoned to Tomas, whom he judged to be the leader. "Here," he said +in Spanish, when Tomas had come close to him. "I will pay you for using +your cattle. When I am through, my boys will drive them back to the mesa +again. For my picture I may need them again, <i>señor</i>. I promise you they +will not be harmed." And he charged in his expense book the sum, "to use +of locations." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Gracias</i>," said Tomas, and took the five dollars which Luck could ill +afford to give, but which he felt would smooth materially the trail to +their future work. Cattle he must have for his picture; cattle he would +have at any cost,—but it would be well to have them with the consent of +their owners. So the Chavez brothers rode away with smiles for their +neighbors instead of threats, and with five dollars which had come to +them like a gift. +</p> + +<p> +"Yuh might better uh kicked 'em outa here without no softsoapin' about +it, now I'm tellin' yuh!" Applehead grumbled when they were out of +earshot. "You may know your business better'n what I do, but by thunder I +wouldn't uh give 'em no five dollars—ner five cents. 'S like feedin' a +stray dog; yuh won't never git rid of 'em now. They'll be hangin' around +under yer feet—" +</p> + +<p> +"At that, I might have use for them," Luck retorted unmoved. "They're +fine types." +</p> + +<p> +"Types!" old Applehead exploded indignantly. "Types! They're +sneak-thieves and cutthroats 't I wouldn't trust fur's I could throw a +bull by the tail. That's what they be. Types,—my granny!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER FOURTEEN +<br><br> +"PLUMB SPOILED, D' YUH MEAN?" +</h3> + +<p> +Luck came out of the dark room with the still, frozen, look of a trouble +that has gone too deep for words. Annie-Many-Ponies eyed him aslant and +straightway placed the hottest, juiciest piece of steak on his plate, and +poured his coffee even before she poured for old Dave Wiswell, whom she +favored as being an old acquaintance of the Pine Ridge country. +</p> + +<p> +Once when her father, old chief Big Turkey, had broken his leg and +refused to have a doctor attend him, and had said that he would die if +his "son" did not make his leg well, Luck had looked as he looked now. +Still, he had set chief Big Turkey's leg so well that it grew straight +and strong again. Annie-Many-Ponies might be primitive as to her nature +and untutored as to her mind, but she could read the face of her brother +Wagalexa Conka swiftly and surely. Something was very bad in his heart. +Annie-Many-Ponies searched her soul for guilt, remembered the smile she +had given to Ramone Chavez whom Wagalexa Conka did not like, and +immediately she became humbled before her chief. +</p> + +<p> +Shunka Chistala—which is Sioux for little dog—she banished into the +cold, and hardened her heart, against his whining. It is true that +Wagalexa Conka had not forbidden her to have the little dog in the +house, but in his displeasure he might make the dog an excuse for +scolding her and for taking the part of Rosemary, who hated dogs in the +house, and who was trying, by every ingratiating means known to woman, +to make a friend of Compadre. Rosemary was a white woman and the wife of +Wagalexa Conka's friend; Annie-Many-Ponies was an Indian girl, not even +of the same race as her brother Wagalexa Conka. And although her vanity +might lead her to believe herself and her smile the cause of Luck's +mask-like displeasure, she had no delusions as to which side he would +take in an argument between herself and Shunka Chistala on the one side, +and Rosemary and Compadre on the other; and in the back of her mind +lived always the fear that Wagalexa Conka might refuse to let her stay +and work for him in pictures. +</p> + +<p> +Therefore Annie-Many-Ponies crouched humbly before the rock +fireplace, until Luck missed her at the table and told her to come +and eat; she came as comes a dog who has been beaten, and slid into +her place as noiselessly as a shadow,—humility being the heritage of +her sex and race. +</p> + +<p> +No one talked at all. Even Rosemary seemed depressed and made no attempt +to stir the Happy Family to their wonted cheerfulness. They were worn out +from their long day that had been filled with real hardships as well as +work. In the general silence, Luck's deeper gloom seemed consistent and +only to be expected; for hard as the others had worked, he had worked +harder. His had been the directing brain; his hand had turned the camera +crank, lest Bill Holmes, not yet familiar with his duties, might fail +where failure would be disaster. He had endured the cold and the storm, +tramping back and forth in the snow, planning, directing, doing literally +the work of two men. Annie-Many-Ponies alone knew that exhaustion never +brought just that look into Luck's face. Annie-Many-Ponies knew that +something was very bad in Luck's heart. She knew, and she trembled while +she ate with a precise attention to her table manners lest he chide her +openly before them all. +</p> + +<p> +"How long do you think this storm will last, Applehead?" Luck asked, when +he had walked heavily over to the fireplace for his smoke, and had drawn +a match sharply along the rough face of a rock. +</p> + +<p> +"We-ell, she's showin' some signs uh clearin' up to-night," Applehead +stated with careful judgment, because he felt that Luck's question had +much to do with Luck's plans, and was not a mere conversational bait. +"Wind, she's shiftin', er was, when I come in to supper. She shore come +down like all git-out ever since she started, and I calc'late she's about +stormed out. I look fer sun all day to-morrer, boy." This last in a tone +of such manifest encouragement that Luck snorted. (Back by the table in +the kitchen, Annie-Many-Ponies paused in her piling of plates and +listened breathlessly. She knew that particular sound. Wagalexa Conka +would presently reveal what was bad in his heart.) +</p> + +<p> +"That would be my luck, all right," her chief stated pessimistically. +</p> + +<p> +"What's the matter with the sun, now?" Big Medicine boomed reprovingly. +"Comin' in, you said you had your blizzard stuff, and now if the sun'd +jest come out, by cripes, you'd be singin' songs uh thanksgivin'—er +words to that effect. Honest to gran'ma, there's folks that'd kick if—" +</p> + +<p> +"But I haven't got my blizzard stuff," Luck stated, harshly because of +the effort to speak at all. "All that negative I took to-day is chuck +full of 'static.'" +</p> + +<p> +Annie-Many-Ponies, out in the kitchen, dropped a granite-iron plate, but +the others merely stared at Luck uncomprehendingly. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, say, by cripes! What's statics?" demanded Big Medicine +pugnaciously, as though he meant to ward off from his mind the +realization of some new misfortune. +</p> + +<p> +Luck's lips twitched in the faint impulse toward a smile that would not +come. "Statics," he explained, "is that branch of mechanics that relates +to bodies held at rest by the forces acting on them. In other words, it +is electricity in a stationary charge, the condition being produced by +friction, or induction. In other words—" +</p> + +<p> +"In other words," Big Medicine supplied glumly, "I can shut up and mind +my own business. I get yuh, all right!" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing like that, Bud," Luck corrected more amiably, warmed a little by +the sympathy he knew would follow close upon the heels of understanding. +"Static is a technical word used a good deal in motion-picture +photography. In this case it was caused, I think, by the difference of +temperature in the metal parts of the camera and negative, and the +weather outside the camera box. I've been keeping it here in the house +where it's warm, and I took it out into the cold and started +work—<i>sabe</i>? And the grinding of the bearings, and the action of the +film on the race plate, generated static electricity in tiny flashes +which lighted up the interior of the camera and light-exposed the +negative, as it was passing from one magazine to another. When it's +developed, these flashes show up in contrasty lights, like tiny grape +vines; I can show you that part; I've got about a mile of it, more or +less, there in the dark room." +</p> + +<p> +"Plumb spoiled, d' yuh mean?" Big Medicine asked, his voice hushed before +the catastrophe. +</p> + +<p> +"Plumb spoiled." Luck threw his cigarette stub viciously into the +blaze. "All that drifting herd, all that panoram of Andy and +Miguel—all—everything I took to-day, with the exception of those last +scenes with the cow and calf. The one where the cow is down and the snow +drifting over her, and the calf huddled there by the carcass,—that's +dandy. Camera and negative were cold as the outside air by that time. +That one scene will stand out big; it's got an awful big punch, provided +I had the stuff leading up to it, which I haven't got." +</p> + +<p> +"Hell!" said Andy softly, voicing the dismay of them all. +</p> + +<p> +Presently old Applehead unlimbered himself from his chair and went out +into the cold and darkness. When he came back, ribbing his knuckles +for warmth, he stood before the fireplace and ruminated dispiritedly +before he spoke. +</p> + +<p> +"Ain't ary hope of it blizzardin' to-morrer, boy," he broke his silence +reluctantly, "'less the wind changes, which she don't act to me like +she's got ary notion of doin'; she's shore goin' to blind ye with sun +to-morrer, now I'm tellin' yuh." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, there won't be any more static in my film," Luck declared with +sudden decision, and carried his camera outside. When he returned +Applehead eyed him solicitously. +</p> + +<p> +"We-ell, this ain't but the middle uh November, yuh want to recollect," +he said. "We're liable to have purtier storms 'n what this here one was, +'fore winter's over. Cattle'll be in worse condition, too,—ribs stickin' +out so'st you kin count 'em a mile off 'n' more. Way winter's startin' +in, wouldn't s'prise me a mite if we had storms all through till spring +opens up." +</p> + +<p> +Luck knew the old man was trying in his crude way to encourage him, but +he made no reply, and Applehead relapsed into drowsy meditation over his +pipe. The boys, yawning sleepily, trailed off to bed in the Ketch-all +cabin. Rosemary and Annie-Many-Ponies, having finished washing the dishes +and tidying the kitchen, came through the room on their way to bed, +Annie-Many-Ponies cunningly hiding the little black dog behind her +skirts. Rosemary frowned at the two and went to the door and called +Compadre; but the blue cat, scenting a dog in the house, meowed his +regrets and would not come. +</p> + +<p> +"I'll take 'im down with me," said Applehead, rising stiffly. "He cain't +take no comfort in the house no more—not till he spunks up and licks +that thar dawg a time er two. Comin', Luck?" he added, waiting at the +door. But Luck was staring into the fire and did not seem to hear him, so +Applehead went off alone to where the Happy Family were already creeping +thankfully into their hard bunks. +</p> + +<p> +The house grew still; so still that Luck could hear the wind whispering +in the chimney, coming from the quarter which meant clearing weather. He +sighed, flung more wood on the coals to drive back the chill of the +night, and got out his scenario and some sheets of blank paper and a +pencil. He had sold his typewriter when he was raising money for this +trip, and he was inclined now to regret it. But he sharpened the pencil, +laid a large-surfaced "movie" magazine across his knees, and prepared to +revise his scenario to meet his present limitations. +</p> + +<p> +With a good thousand feet of film spoiled through no real fault of his +own, and with the expenses he knew he must meet looming inexorably before +him, he simply could not afford a leading woman. Therefore, he must +change his story, making it a "character" lead instead of the +conventional hero and heroine theme. Chance—he called it luck—had sent +him Annie-Many-Ponies, who "Wants no monies." He must change his story so +that she would fit into it as the necessary feminine element, but he was +discouraged enough that night to tell himself that, just as he had her +placed and working properly, the Indian Agent or her father, old Big +Turkey, would probably demand her immediate return. In his despondent +mood he had no faith in his standing with the Indians or in the letter he +had written to the Agent. His "one best bet", as he put it, was to make +her scenes as soon as possible, before they had time to reach him with a +letter; therefore he must reconstruct his scenario immediately, so that +he could get to work in the morning, whatever the weather. +</p> + +<p> +He read the script through from beginning to end, and his heart went +heavy in his chest. He did not want to change one scene of that Big +Picture. Just as it stood it seemed to him perfect in its way. It had the +bigness of the West when the West was young. It had the red blood of +courage, the strength of achievement, the sweetness of a great love. It +was, in short, Luck's biggest, best work. Still, without a woman to play +that lead— +</p> + +<p> +Luck sighed and dampened his pencil on his tongue and drew a heavy line +through the scene where "Marian" first appeared in the story. It hurt him +like drawing a hot wire across his hand. It was his first real +compromise, his first step around an obstacle in his path rather than his +usual bold jump over it. He looked at the pencil mark and considered +whether he could not send for a girl young in the profession, who would +be satisfied with her transportation and thirty or forty dollars a week +while she stayed. He could make all her scenes and send her back. But a +little mental arithmetic, coupled with the cold fact that he did not know +of any young woman who was capable of doing the work he required and +would yet be satisfied with a small salary, killed that new-born hope. He +drew a line through the next scene where the girl appeared. +</p> + +<p> +When he had quite blotted the girl from his story, he was appalled at the +gap he must fill in the continuity and in the theme. He had left old Dave +Wiswell, his dried little cattleman, a childless old man—or else a +"squaw" man whose squaw has, presumably, died before the story began. +Somehow he could not "see" his cattleman as one who would set aside the +barrier of race and take a squaw for his wife. He could not see +Annie-Many-Ponies as anything save what she was—a beautiful young savage +with an odd adornment of civilized speech and some of the civilized +customs, it is true, but a savage for all that. He did not want to spoil +her by portraying her as a half-caste in his picture. +</p> + +<p> +He must make his story a man's story, with the full interest centered +about the man's hopes, his temptations, his achievements. The +woman—Annie, as he saw the woman now—must be of secondary interest. He +laid his head against the chair back in his favorite attitude for +uninterrupted thought, and stared into the fire. In this way he had +stared out into the night of the Dakota prairie; at first brooding in +discontent because things were not as he would have them, then drifting +into dreams of what he would like; then weaving his dreams together and +creating a something complete in itself. So had he created his Big +Picture,—the picture which was already beginning to live in the narrow +strips of negative. A few hundred feet of that negative were even dry and +filed away ready for cutting; unimportant scenes, to be sure, with all of +his "big stuff" yet to be produced. His mind went methodically over the +completed scenes, judging each one separately, seeking some change of +plot that would yet permit these scenes to be used. From there his +thought drifted to the day's work in the blizzard,—the day's work that +had been lost because of atmospheric conditions. Blizzard stuff he must +have, he told himself stubbornly. Not only was that a phase of the range +which he must portray if his picture were to be complete; he must have it +to lead the story up to that tragic, pitifully eloquent scene which had +come out clear and photographically perfect,—the scene of the old cow's +struggle against the storm and of her final surrender, too weak to match +her puny strength against the furies of wind and snow and cold. That +scene would live long in the minds of those who saw it; that scene alone +would lift his picture above the dead level of mediocrity. But he must +have another blizzard.... +</p> + +<p> +His eyelids drooped low over his tired eyes; through their narrowing +opening he stared at the yellow glow of the fire. Only half awake, he +dreamed of the herd drifting down that bleak hillside, with Andy and the +Native Son riding doggedly after them. Only half awake, his story +changed, grew indistinct, clarified in stray scenes, held aloof from +him, grew and changed, and was another story. And always in the +background of his mind went that drifting herd. Sometimes snow-whitened, +their backs humped in the wind, their heads lowered and swaying weakly +from side to side, the cattle marched and marched before him, sometimes +obscured by the blackness of night, a vague procession of moving +shadows; sometimes revealed suddenly when the lightning split the +blackness. Like a phantom herd— +</p> + +<p> +"The phantom herd!" Aloud he cried the words. "<i>The Phantom Herd</i>!" He +sat up straight in his chair. Here was his title, for which his mind had +groped so long and could not grasp. His title— +</p> + +<p> +"What—that you, Luck?" Andy Green's voice came sleepily from the next +room. "What yuh want?" +</p> + +<p> +"I've got my title!" Luck called back, his voice exultant. "And I've got +my story, too! Get up, Andy, and let me tell you the plot!" +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon Andy proved himself a real friend and an unselfish one. He felt +as if getting up out of bed was the final, supreme torture under which a +man may live; but he got up, for there was something in Luck's voice that +thrilled him even through the clogging sleep-hunger. Presently he was +sitting in his trousers and socks and shirt, sleepy-eyed beside Luck. +</p> + +<p> +"Shoot it outa your system," he mumbled, and began feeling stupidly for +his cigarette papers. "<i>E—a-ough!</i>" he yawned, if so inarticulate a +sound may be spelled. "I knew you'd have to work your story over," he +said, more normal of tone after the yawn. And he added bluntly, +"Rosemary's one grand little woman—but she couldn't act if you trained +her a thousand years. What's your next best bet?" +</p> + +<p> +"No next best; it's <i>the</i> picture this time. <i>The Phantom Herd</i>. Get that +as a title?" +</p> + +<p> +"Gee!" Andy softly paid tribute. Then he grinned. "By gracious, they +sure didn't act to me like any phantom herd when we first headed 'em +into that wind!" +</p> + +<p> +"Them babies are going to march us up to a pile of real money, though," +Luck asserted eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +"Listen. Here's the story—the part I've changed; all the first part is +the same—the trail-herd and all. You're old Dave's son, and you're +wild. You quarrel, and he turns you out, thinking he'll let you rustle +for yourself awhile, and maybe tame down and come back more like he wants +you to be. But you don't tame that way. You throw in with Miguel, and you +two turn rustlers. You hold a grudge against your dad, and you rustle +from him mostly, on the plea that by rights what's his is yours—you +know. Annie is Mig's sweetheart, and she's a kind of go-between—keeps +you posted on what's taking place on the outside, and all that. I +haven't," he explained hastily, "doped out the details yet. I'm giving +you the main points I want to bring out. Well, here's the big stuff; you +get a big herd together. You're holding 'em in a box canyon,—I know the +spot, all right,—waiting for a chance to drive them outa the country; +see? This blizzard hits, and you take advantage of it to drive the herd +out under cover of the storm. But the blizzard beats you. You trail 'em +along, but there's only two of you, and you can't keep 'em from swinging +away from the wind. You try to hold the herd into the storm,—that's +where I'll get my big storm effects,—but they swing off in spite of you. +Your horses get tired; all you can do is follow the herd. Lord! I wish +that stuff I took to-day wasn't spoiled! I sure would have had some big +stuff there. Well, Mig's horse goes down in a drifted wash. You're trying +to point the herd then, and the storm's so thick you don't miss him at +first, we'll say. +</p> + +<p> +"Anyway, as I've doped it out, Mig loses his life. You find him +dead—whether then or later I don't know yet. The punch is this: You have +been getting pretty sick of the life, and wishing you had behaved +yourself and stayed with your dad. But you've been afraid of Mig. You +couldn't see any chance of taking the back trail as long as he was alive +to tell on you. Now he's dead. I guess maybe you better find him right +there in the blizzard—hurt maybe—anyway, just about all in. You try to +save him, <i>sabe</i>? You can't, though." +</p> + +<p> +"I still don't see no phantom herd," observed Andy, wriggling his toes +luxuriously in the warmth of the fire. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, listen. You'll see it in a minute. You go back home after your +pard's dead. You have a close squeak yourself, see? And the thing works +on your mind. Cutting out the frills, you see things. You see a herd +drifting before a storm, maybe,—a blizzard like yesterday, with your pal +riding point. You try to come up with it—no herd there. You come to +yourself and go back home. Then maybe some black night you're brooding +before a fire like this—I can get a great firelight effect on your face, +sitting like this"—Luck, actor that he was, made Andy see just how the +scenes would look—"have a flare in the fire to throw the light back on +you; see what I mean? And outside a thunderstorm is rolling up. A bright +flash of lightning startles you. You go to the door and open it; you see +the herd drifting past with Mig trailing along on his horse—black +shadows, and then standing out clear in the lightning—" +</p> + +<p> +"How the deuce—" +</p> + +<p> +"I'll do that with 'lap dissolves' and double exposures. Lots of work +that will be, and careful work, but the result will be—why, Lord! It +will be immense! That herd and the lone rider haunt you till you're on +the edge of being crazy. Then I'll bring out somehow that it's a nervous +condition, which of course it is. And I'll bring old Dave in strong; he +follows you some night, and he finds out what you're after. You tell +him—make a clean breast of your rustling, see? Just unburden your mind +to your dad. He's big enough to see that he isn't altogether clear of +guilt himself, for sending you off the way he did. Anyway, that pulls you +out of it. The phantom herd and rider pass over the sky line some +night—Lord, I can see what a picture I can get out of that!—and out of +your life." +</p> + +<p> +"Unh-hunh—that's a heap better than your first story, Luck." +</p> + +<p> +"Andy, are you boys going to talk all night?" the voice of Rosemary came +plaintively from the next room. +</p> + +<p> +"Here. You go back to bed," Luck generously commanded. "I just wanted to +get your idea of what it sounds like. I'll block it out before I turn in. +Go on, now." +</p> + +<p> +So Luck wrote his new story of <i>The Phantom Herd</i> that night. He had a +midnight supper of warmed-over coffee and cold bean sandwiches, but he +did not have any sleep. When he had finished with a last big, artistic +scene that made his pulse beat faster in the writing of it, the white +world outside was growing faintly pink under the rising sun. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER FIFTEEN +<br><br> +A LETTER FROM CHIEF BIG TURKEY +</h3> + +<p> +Annie-Many-Ponies, keen of eye when her heart directed her glances, saw +the Kyle postmark on a letter while Applehead was sorting Luck's mail +from the weekly batch he had just brought. Luck also spied the Kyle +postmark and the familiar handwriting of George-Low-Cedar, who was a +cousin of Annie-Many-Ponies and the most favored scribe of Big Turkey's +numerous family. There was no mistaking those self-conscious shadings on +the downward strokes of the pen, or the twice-curled tails of all the +capitals. The capital M, for instance, very much resembled a dandelion +stem split and curled by the tongue of a little girl. +</p> + +<p> +George-Low-Cedar and none other had written that letter, and Big Turkey +himself had probably composed it in great deliberation over his pipe, +while the smoke of his <i>tepee</i> fire curled over his head, and his squaw +crouched in the shadow listening stolidly while her heart ached with +longing for the girl-child who had gone a-wandering. Annie-Many-Ponies +slid unobtrusively to the door and flattened her back against the wall +beside it, ready to slip out into the dusk if she read in Wagalexa +Conka's face that the letter was unpleasant. +</p> + +<p> +Luck did not say a word while he held the letter up and looked at it; he +did not say a word, but Annie-Many-Ponies knew, as well as though he had +spoken, that he too feared what the contents might be. So she stood flat +against the wall and watched his face, and saw how his fingers fumbled at +the flap of the envelope, and how slowly he drew out the cheap, heavily +ruled, glazed paper that is sold alongside plug tobacco and pearl buttons +and safety pins in the Indian traders' stores. Staring from under her +straight brows at that folded letter, Annie-Many-Ponies had a swift, +clear vision of the little store set down in the midst of barrenness and +dust, and of the squaws sitting wrapped in bright shawls upon the +platform while their lords gravely purchased small luxuries within. As a +slim, barefooted papoose, proud of her shapeless red calico slip buttoned +unevenly up the back with huge white buttons, and of her hair braided in +two sleek braids and tied with strips of the same red calico, she had +stood flattened against the wall of the store while her father, Big +Turkey, bought tobacco. She had hoped that the fates might be kind and +send her a five-cent bag of red-and-white gum drops. Instead, Big Turkey +had brought her a doll,—a pink-cheeked doll of the white people. In her +cheap suitcase which she had carried wrapped in her shawl on her back to +the ranch, Annie-Many-Ponies still had that doll. So with her eyes fixed +upon the letter, her mind stared trance-like at the vision of that +long-ago day which had been to her so wonderful. +</p> + +<p> +Then Wagalexa Conka looked at her and smiled, and the vision of the store +and the slim, barefooted papoose with her doll vanished. The smile meant +that all was well, that she might stay with Wagalexa Conka and be his +Indian girl in the picture of <i>The Phantom Herd</i>. Annie-Many-Ponies +smiled back at him,—the slow, sweet, sphinx-like smile which Luck called +"heart-twisting,"—and slipped out into the night with her heart beating +fast in a strange mixture of joy that she might stay, and of homesickness +for the little store set down in the midst of barrenness and dust, and +for that long-ago day that had been so wonderful. +</p> + +<p> +"Read this," said Luck, still smiling, and gave the letter into the +flour-dusted hands of Rosemary. "Ever see a real, dyed-in-the-wool, +Indian letter? Sure takes a load off my mind, too; you never can tell how +an idea is going to hit an Indian. Pass it on to the boys." +</p> + +<p> +So Rosemary read, with the whole Happy Family crowding close to look over +her shoulder: +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +Kyle, P. Office<br> +Pine Ridge, So. D<br> +Monday, Nov.<br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +Luck Lindsay<br> +at Motion Pictures ranch,<br> +Albequrqe, New M.<br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +Friend son, +</p> + +<p> +I this day gets letter from agent at agency who tell my girl you sisters +are now at New mexicos with you pictures. shes go way one days at night +times and to-morrow mornings i no find him. i am glad she sees you. you +Take care same as with shows them Buffalo bill. all indians have hard +times for cold and much hays and fires of prairies loses much. them +indians shake you hands with good hearts they have with you. send me blue +silks ribbon send Me pictures so i can see you. Again i shake you by +hand with good heart same as I see you. Speak one Letters quick again. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +you father,<br> +BIG TURKEY. +</p> + +<p> +"Pretty good spelling, for an Indian letter," Rosemary commented +suspiciously. "Are you sure an Indian wrote it, Luck Lindsay?" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, certainly, I'm sure!" Luck was shuffling his other letters with the +air of a man whose mind has for the moment lost its load of trouble. +"George-Low-Cedar wrote it. I know his writing. He's Annie's cousin, and +he thinks he's highly educated. Indians have great memories, and once +they learn to spell a word, they never seem to forget it. They learn to +spell in school. What they don't learn is how to put the words together +the way we do. Cousin George is also shaky on capitals, you notice. Now +to-morrow we can go ahead with that big cattle-stuff. I can take my time +about making Annie's scenes; I was afraid I might have to rush them all +through first thing, so as to send her back. I'm sure glad she can stay; +she's good to have around, to help in the house." +</p> + +<p> +Rosemary screwed up her lips and gave him a queer look, but Luck had +turned his attention to another letter, and she did not say what was in +her mind. Annie-Many-Ponies, speaking theoretically, was good to have +around to help Rosemary. In actual practice, however, Rosemary found her +not so good. Personally Annie was fastidiously tidy, which Rosemary +ungenerously set down to youthful vanity rather than to innate +cleanliness. When it came to washing dishes, however, Annie-Many-Ponies +left much to be desired. She was prone to disappear about the time she +reached the biscuit-basin and the frying-pan stage of the thrice-daily +performance. She was prone to fancy she heard Wagalexa Conka calling her, +or Shunka Chistala barking in pursuit of the cat, or a hen cackling out +in the weeds; whatever the sound, it invariably became a summons which +Annie-Many-Ponies must instantly obey. Then she forgot to come back +within the next two or three hours, and Rosemary must finish the dishes +herself. But all this, as Rosemary well knew, was an unimportant detail +of the general scheme of work going on at Applehead's ranch. +</p> + +<p> +To her it seemed wonderful, the way Luck was pushing his picture to +completion against long odds sometimes, fighting some difficulty always. +Much as she secretly resented certain Indian traits in Annie-Many-Ponies, +and pleased as she would secretly have been if the girl had been recalled +to the reservation, she was generously relieved because Luck could now go +ahead with his round-up and trail-herd scenes while the weather was mild +and sunny, and need not hurry the Indian-girl scenes at all. +</p> + +<p> +In the ten days since the blizzard, Luck had worked hard. Some night +scenes in a cow-town he had already taken, driving late in the afternoon +into Albuquerque with his radium flares and his full company. Rosemary's +memory cherished those nights as rare and precious experiences. First +there were the old-time scenes, half Mexican in their atmosphere, when +the dried little man was young, and the trail-herd started north. For +these scenes Luck himself played the part of Dave Wiswell, turning the +camera work over to Bill Holmes. Then there were the scenes of a later +period,—scenes of carousal which depicted her beloved Andy as a very +wild young man who spent his nights riotously. One full day of sunshine +had also been spent at the stockyards there, taking shipping scenes. +</p> + +<p> +On this day the two women had stayed at home, and Rosemary had nearly +quarreled with Annie-Many-Ponies because Annie would not mend her +stockings, but had spent the whole afternoon teaching Shunka Chistala +to chase prairie dogs, the game being to try and frighten them away +from their holes and then catch them. Annie-Many-Ponies attended to the +strategic direction of the enterprise and let Shunka Chistala do most +of the running. The high, clear laughter of the girl and her +unintelligible cries to the little black dog had irritated Rosemary to +the point of tears. +</p> + +<p> +There had been no more days wasted because of spoiled film,—Luck was +carefully guarding against that,—and it seemed to Rosemary that there +were miles of it developed and dried and pigeon-holed, ready for +assembling. That part of the work she was especially interested in, +because it was done in the house. +</p> + +<p> +To her it might seem that miles of film had been made, but to Luck it +seemed as though the work crawled with maddening deliberation. Delays +fretted him. The mounting expense account worried him, though as a matter +of fact it mounted slowly, considering the work he was doing and the size +of the company he was maintaining. When he took film clippings to a town +photographer to have enlargements made for "stills,"—the pictures which +must accompany each set of prints as advertising matter,—the cost of the +work gave him the blues for the rest of that day. Then there were the +Chavez boys, whom he had found it expedient to use occasionally in his +big range scenes and in his "cow-town stuff." They had no conception of +regular rates as extras, but Luck had a conscience, and he had also +established a precedent. Whenever he used them in pictures, he gave Tomas +five dollars and left it to Tomas to divide with Ramone. And five +dollars, added to other fives and tens and twenty-fives, soon amounts to +an amazing whole when anxiety holds the pencil. +</p> + +<p> +As his story had changed and developed into <i>The Phantom Herd</i> plot, it +had lengthened appreciably, because he could not and would not sacrifice +his big range stuff. And double exposures meant double work, of course. +He found himself with a five-reel picture in the making instead of the +four-reeler he had started to produce. Thus he was compelled to send for +more "raw stock." Also, he soon ran out of lumber for his interior sets +and must buy more. As the possibilities of his production grew plainer to +him, Luck knew that he could not slight a single scene nor skimp it in +the making. He could go hungry if it came to that, but he could not +cheapen his story by using make-shift settings. +</p> + +<p> +Thanksgiving came, and they scarcely knew it, for the weather was fine, +and they spent the day far afield and came in after dark, too tired to be +thankful for anything save the opportunity to sleep. +</p> + +<p> +Christmas came so suddenly that they wondered where the month had gone. +Christmas Eve the Happy Family spent in arranging a round-up camp out +behind the house where the hill rose picturesquely, and in singeing +themselves heroically in the heat of radium flares, while Luck took his +camp-fire scenes that were triumphs of lighting-effects and +photography,—scenes which he would later tone red with aniline dyes. +</p> + +<p> +Annie-Many-Ponies and Rosemary brought out the two-gallon coffee boiler +and a can of cream and a small lard pail of sugar, with cups and tin +spoons and a pan of boiled-beef and cold-bean sandwiches. Rosemary called +"Merry Christmas!" when the dying radium flares betrayed her approach, +and the Happy Family jumped up and shouted "Merry Christmas!" to her and +one another, just as exuberantly as though they had been celebrating +instead of adding six hours or so to a hard day's work. +</p> + +<p> +"That was beautiful, Luck Lindsay," Rosemary declared, giving him a bean +sandwich for which he declared himself "strong," and holding the sugar +bucket steady while he dipped into it three times. +</p> + +<p> +"We were watching from the house; and the boys' faces, the way you +had them placed, looked—oh, I don't know, but it just sent shivers +all over me, it was so beautiful. I just hope it comes out that way +in the picture!" +</p> + +<p> +"Better," mumbled Luck, taking great, satisfying bites into the sandwich. +"Wait till you see it—after it's colored—with the chuck-box end of the +wagon showing, and the night horses standing back there in the shadows; +she will sure look like a million dollars!" +</p> + +<p> +"She'll shore depict me cookin' and the smoke bilin' up," poor old +Applehead remarked lugubriously. "Last five minutes er so I could hear +grease a-fryin' on my shins, now I'm tellin' yuh!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, they don't use radium flares in cold-storage plants," Luck +admitted reflectively. +</p> + +<p> +"I know, by cripes, I'm goin' to mend my ways," Big Medicine +declared meaningly. "I never realized b'fore how fire 'n brimstone's +goin' to feel!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I've got to hand it to you, boys," Luck praised them with a smile. +"You sat tight, and when I said 'Hold,' you sure held the pose. You +dissolved perfectly—you'll see." +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, gwan!" contradicted Happy Jack with his mouth full. "I never +dissolved; I plumb melted!" +</p> + +<p> +"If you boys could just see how beautiful you looked," Rosemary reproved, +starting on her second round with the coffee boiler. "I saw it from +behind the camera, and Luck had you sitting so the light was shining on +your faces; honestly, you looked <i>beautiful</i>!" +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, gwan!" gurgled Happy Jack, reddening uncomfortably. +</p> + +<p> +"It's late," Luck broke in, emptying his cup the second time. "But I'm +going to make that firelight scene of you, Annie. The wind happens to be +just right for the flame effect I want. Did you make up, as I told you?" +</p> + +<p> +For answer, Annie-Many-Ponies threw back her shrouding red shawl and +stepped proudly out before him in the firelight. Her brown arms were bare +and banded with bracelets of some dull metal. Her fringed dress of +deerskin was heavily embroidered with stained porcupine quills. Her slim +feet were clothed in beaded moccasins. It was the gala dress of the +daughter of a chief, and as the daughter of a chief she stood straight +and slender and haughty before him. The Happy Family stared at her, +astonished. They had not even known that she possessed such a costume. +</p> + +<p> +Ordinarily the Happy Family would have taken immediate advantage of their +freedom and would have gone to bed and to the sleep for which their tired +bodies hungered the more as the food and hot coffee filled them with a +sense of well-being. But not even Rosemary wanted to go and miss any of +that wonderful scene where Annie-Many-Ponies, young savage that she was, +stood in the light of her flaming camp fire and prayed to her gods before +she went to meet her lover. She rehearsed it once before Luck lighted the +radium flares. Then, in the searing heat of that white-hot flame, which +will melt rock as a candle melts, Annie-Many-Ponies crossed herself, and +then lifted her young face and bare arms to the heavens and prayed as the +priest in the mission school had taught her,—a real prayer in her own +Indian tongue, while Luck turned the crank and gloated professionally in +her beauty. +</p> + +<p> +The Happy Family, watching her, remembered that it was Christmas morning; +remembered oddly, in the midst of their work, the old, old story of the +three Wise Men and the Star, and of the Wonder-Child in the manger. +Something there was in the voice and the face of Annie-Many-Ponies that +suggested it. Something there was of adoration in her upturned glance, as +if she too were looking for the Star. +</p> + +<p> +They did not talk much after that, and when they did, their voices were +lower than usual. They banked the fire with sand, and Bill Holmes +shouldered the camera with its precious store of scenes. As they trooped +silently down to the house and to their beds, they felt something of the +magnitude of life, something of the mystery. Behind them, treading +noiselessly in her beaded deerskin moccasins, Annie-Many-Ponies followed +like a houseless wraith of the plains, the little black dog at her heels. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap16"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER SIXTEEN +<br><br> +"THE CHANCES IS SLIM AND GITTIN' SLIMMER" +</h3> + +<p> +"Must be going to snow," Weary observed with a sly twinkle, "'cause Paddy +cat has got his tail brustled up bigger than a trapped coon." +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, that's because Shunky Cheestely chased him all the way up from the +corral a minute ago," Happy Jack explained the phenomenon. "I betcher he +swaps ends some uh these times and gives that dog the s'prise of his +life. He come purty near makin' a stand t'night." +</p> + +<p> +"We-ell, when he does turn on that thar mongrel purp, they's goin' to be +some dawg scattered around over the premises—now I'm tellin' yuh!" +Applehead cocked his eye toward Annie-Many-Ponies and nodded his head in +solemn warning. "He's takin' a mighty long chance, every time he turns +that thar trick uh chasin' Compadre all over the place; and them that +thinks anything uh that thar dawg—" +</p> + +<p> +"I betcher it's goin' to snow, all right," Happy Jack interrupted the +warning. "Chickydees was swarmin' all over the place, t'day." +</p> + +<p> +"We-ell, now, yuh don't want to go too much on them chickydees," +Applehead dissented. "Change uh wind'll set them flockin' and chirpin'. +Ain't ary flake uh snow in the wind t'day, fur's I kin smell—and I +calc'late I kin smell snow fur's the next one." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, let's not talk about snow; that's getting to be a painful subject on +this ranch," Rosemary pleaded, while she placed twelve pairs of steel +knives and forks on the long, white-oilcloth-covered table. +</p> + +<p> +"'Painful subject' is right," Luck stated grimly, glancing up from the +endless figuring and scribbling which seemed to occupy all his time +indoors that was not actually given over to eating and sleeping. "If +you don't begin to smell snow pretty quick, Applehead, I can see where +<i>The Phantom Herd</i> don't have any phantom herd." The corners of his +mouth quirked upward, though his smile was becoming almost a stranger +to his face. +</p> + +<p> +"We-ell, I dunno's you can blame me because it don't snow. I can't make +it snow if it takes a notion not to snow—" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, come and eat, and never mind the snow," called Rosemary impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +"We've got to mind the snow—or we don't eat much longer!" Luck laid +aside his papers with the tired gesture which betrays heavy anxiety. "The +whole punch of the picture depends on that blizzard and what it leads up +to. It's getting close to March,—this is the twentieth of February,—and +the Texas Cattleman's Convention meets the first of April. I've got to +have the picture done by then, so as to show it and get their endorsement +as a body, in order to boost the sales up where they belong." +</p> + +<p> +"Mamma!" Weary looked up at him, open-eyed. "How long have you had that +notion in your head,—showing the picture to the Cattlemen's Convention? +I never heard of it." +</p> + +<p> +"I might say quite a few things you haven't heard me say before," Luck +retorted, so harassed that he never knew how sharp a snub he had given. +"I've had that in mind from the start; ever since I read when and where +the convention would meet this spring. We've got to have that blizzard, +and we've got to have it before many more days." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, well, we'll have it," Rosemary soothed, as she would have comforted +a child. "I just know March will come in like a roaring lion! Have some +beans. They're different, to-night. I cooked them with plain salt pork +instead of bacon. You can't imagine what a difference it makes!" +</p> + +<p> +Luck was on the point of snapping out something that would have hurt her +feelings. He did not want baby-soothing. It did not comfort him in the +least to have her assure him that it would snow, when he knew she had +absolutely no foundation for such an assurance. But just before he spoke, +he remembered how bravely she had been smiling at hardships that would +have broken the spirit of most women, so he took the beans and smiled at +her, and did not speak at all. +</p> + +<p> +Trouble, that month, was riding Luck hard. The blizzard that was +absolutely vital to his picture-plot seemed as remote as in June. Other +storms had come to delay his work without giving him the benefit of any +spectacular effect. There had been days of whooping wind, when even the +saddle strings popped in the air like whiplashes, and he could not +"shoot" interior scenes because he could not shelter his stage from the +wind, and everything blew about in a most maddening manner to one who is +trying, for instance, to portray the calmness of a ranch-house kitchen at +supper time. +</p> + +<p> +There had been days of lowering clouds which brought nothing but +exasperating little flurries of what Applehead called "spit +snow,"—flurries that passed before Luck could get ready for a scene. +There had been one terrific sand storm which had nearly caught them in +the open. But Applehead had warned them, and Luck, fortunately for them +all, had heeded the warning. They had reached shelter just before the +full force of the storm had struck them, and for six hours the air was a +hell of sand in violent flight through the air. For six hours they could +not see as far as the stable, and the rooms were filled with an +impalpable haze of dust which filtered through minute crevices under the +roof and around the doors and windows. +</p> + +<p> +Luck, when that storm broke, was worried over his negative drying in the +garret, until he had hurried up the ladder to see what might be done. He +had found the film practically dry, and had carried it down in much +relief to his dark room which, being light-proof, was also practically +dust-proof. +</p> + +<p> +There had been other vexations, but there had been fine, clear days as +well. Luck had used those fine days to their full capacity for yielding +him picture-light. Could he have been certain of getting his "blizzard +stuff" now, he would have left but his one load of financial worry. That +was a heavy one, but he felt he could carry it with a better grace if +only he could be sure that his picture would be completed in time. +</p> + +<p> +"Pass the beans, Luck," Pink broke into his abstraction. "Seems like I've +had beans before, this week, but I'll try them another whirl, anyway." +</p> + +<p> +"Ever try syrup on 'em?" old Dave Wiswell looked up from his plate to +inquire. "Once you git to likin' 'em that way, they go pretty good for +a change." +</p> + +<p> +Pink, anxious for variety in the monotonous menu, but doubtful of the +experiment, poured a teaspoon of syrup over a teaspoon of beans, conveyed +the mixture to his mouth, and made a hurried trip to the door. "Say! was +that a joke?" he demanded, when he returned grimacing to his place. +</p> + +<p> +"Joke? No, ain't no joke about that," the dried little man testified +earnestly. "Once you git to likin' 'em that way—" +</p> + +<p> +Pink scowled suspiciously. "I'll take mine straight," he said, and sent a +resentful glance at Annie-Many-Ponies who was tittering behind her palm. +</p> + +<p> +"I calc'late I better beef another critter," Applehead suggested +pacifically. "Worst of it is, the cattle's all so danged pore they ain't +much pickin' left on their bones after the hide's skun off. If that +blizzard ever does come, Luck's shore goin' to have all the pore-cow +atmosphere he wants!" +</p> + +<p> +To Luck their talk, good-humored though it was, hurt him like a blow upon +bruised flesh. For their faith in him they were eating beans three times +a day with laughter and jest to sweeten the fare. For their faith in him +they were riding early and late, enduring hardships and laughing at them. +If he failed, he knew that they would hide their disappointment under +some humorous phase of the failure;—if they could find one. He could not +tell them how close he was to failure. He could not tell them in plain +words how much hung upon the coming of that storm in time for him to +reach the cowmen at their convention. Their ignorance of the profession +kept them from worrying much about it; their absolute confidence in his +knowledge let them laugh at difficulties which held him awake when they +were sleeping. +</p> + +<p> +But for all that he went doggedly ahead, trusting in luck theoretically +while he overlooked nothing that would make for success. While Applehead +sniffed the air and shook his head, Luck was doing everything he could +think of to keep things going steadily along to a completion of the +production. +</p> + +<p> +He made all of his "close-ups," his inserts, and sub-titles. He cut +negative by his continuity sheet at night after the others were all in +bed, and pigeon-holed the scenes ready for joining. He ordered what +"positive" he would need, and he arranged for his advertising matter. All +his interior scenes, save the double-exposure "vision" scenes, were done +by the fifteenth of March,—March which had not come in like a roaring +lion, as Rosemary had predicted with easy optimism, but which had been +nerve-wrackingly lamblike to the very middle of the month. +</p> + +<p> +With a dogged persistence in getting ready for the fulfilment of his +hopes, he ordered tanks and printer for the final work of getting his +stuff ready for the market. He had at best a crudely primitive outfit, +though he saw his bank balance dwindle and dwindle to a most despairingly +small sum. And still it did not snow nor show any faint promise of snow. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," he remarked grimly one morning, when the boys asked him at +breakfast about his plans, "you can go back to bed, for all I care. I've +done everything I can do—till we get that snowstorm. All we can do now +is sit tight and trust to luck." +</p> + +<p> +"What day uh the month is this?" Applehead wanted to know. His face was +solemn with his responsibility as a weather prophet. +</p> + +<p> +"The twentieth day of March," Luck replied, with the air of one who has +the date branded deep on his consciousness. +</p> + +<p> +"Twentieth uh March—hm-mm? We-ell, now, I have knowed it to storm, and +storm hard, after this time uh year. But comin' the way she did last +fall, 'n' all this here wind 'n' bluster 'n' snowin' on the Zandias and +never comin' no further down, I calc'late the chances is slim, boy—'n' +gittin' slimmer every day, now I'm tellin' yuh!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, say! Ain't yuh got a purty fair pitcher the way she stands?" Big +Medicine inquired aggressively. "Seems t' me we've done enough ridin' +and actin', by cripes, t' make half a dozen pitchers better'n what I've +ever saw." +</p> + +<p> +"That isn't the point." Luck's voice was lifeless, with a certain dogged +combativeness that had come into it during the last two months. "We've +got to have that storm. This isn't going to be any make-shift affair. +We've got some good film, yes. But it's like starting a funny story and +being choked off before you get to the laugh in it. We've got to have +that storm, I tell you!" His eyes challenged them harshly to dispute his +statement. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, darn it, have your storm, then. I'm willin'," Big Medicine +bellowed with ill-timed facetiousness. "Pink, you run and git Luck a +storm; git him a good big one, guaranteed to last 'im four days or money +refunded. You git one—" +</p> + +<p> +"Listen, Bud." Luck stood suddenly before Big Medicine, quivering with +nervous rage. "Don't joke about this. There's no joke in this at all. No +one with any brains can see anything funny in having failure stare him in +the face. Twelve of us have put every ounce of our best work and our best +patience and every dollar we possess in the world into this venture. I've +worked day and night on this picture. I've worked you boys in weather +that wasn't fit for a dog to be out in. I've seen Rosemary Green slaving +in this dark little hole of a kitchen because we can't afford a cook for +the outfit. You've all been dead game—I'll hand it to you for +that—every white chip has gone into the pot. If we fail we'll have to +borrow carfare to get outa here. And here's Applehead. We've used his +ranch, we've used his house and his horses and himself; we've killed his +cattle for beef, by ——! And we've got just that one chance—the chance +of a storm—for winning out. One chance, and that chance getting slimmer +every day, as he says. No—there's no joke in this; or if there is, I've +lost my appetite for comedy. I can't laugh." He stopped as suddenly as he +had begun his rapid speech, caught up his hat, and went out alone into +the soft morning sunlight. He left silence behind him,—a stunned silence +that was awkward to break. +</p> + +<p> +"It's a perfect shame!" Rosemary said at last, and her lips were +trembling. "He's just about crazy—and I know he hasn't slept a wink, +lately, just from worrying." +</p> + +<p> +"I calc'late that's about the how of it," Applehead agreed, rubbing his +chin nervously. "He lays awful still, last few weeks, and that thar's a +bad sign fer him. And I ain't heerd 'im talkin' in his sleep lately, +either. Up till lately he made more pitchers asleep than he done awake. +Take it when things was movin' right along, Mis' Green, 'n' Luck was +shore talkative, now I'm tellin' yuh!" +</p> + +<p> +"My father, he got one oncle," Annie-Many-Ponies spoke up unexpectedly +from her favorite corner. "Big Medicine man. Maybe I write one letter, +maybe Noisy-Owl he come, make plenty storm. Noisy-Owl, he got awful +strong medicine for make storm come." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, by cripes, yuh better send for 'im then!" Big Medicine advised +gruffly, and went out. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap17"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER SEVENTEEN +<br><br> +THE STORM +</h3> + +<p> +<i>The Phantom Herd</i>, as the days slipped nearer and nearer to April, might +almost have been christened <i>The Forlorn Hope</i>. On the twenty-first the +sun was so hot that Luck rode in his shirt sleeves to Albuquerque, +stubbornly intending to order more "positive" for his prints in the final +work of putting his Big Picture into marketable form. He did not have the +slightest idea of where the money to pay for the stuff was coming from, +but he sent the letter ordering the stock sent C.O.D. He was playing for +big results, and he had no intention of being balked at the last minute +because of his timidity in assuming an ultimate success which was +beginning to look extremely doubtful. +</p> + +<p> +On the twenty-second, a lark flew impudently past his head and perched +upon a bush near by and sang straight at him. As a general thing Luck +loved to hear bird songs when he rode abroad on a fine morning; but he +came very near taking a shot at that particular lark, as if it were +personally responsible for the sunny days that had brought it out +scouting ahead of its kind. +</p> + +<p> +On the twenty-third the sky was a brassy blue, and Applehead won Luck's +fierce enmity by remarking that he "calc'lated he'd better get his garden +in." Luck went away off somewhere on the snuffy little bay, that day, and +did not return until after dark. +</p> + +<p> +On the twenty-fourth he took the boys away back on the mesa, where the +mountains shoulder the plain, and scattered them on a wide circle, +rounding up the cattle that had been permitted to drift where they would +in their famished search for the scant grass-growth. Bill Holmes and the +camera followed him in the buckboard with the lunch, and Luck, when the +boys had met with their gleanings, "shot" two or three short scenes of +poor cows and their early calves, which would go to help along his range +"atmosphere." To the Happy Family it seemed a waste of horseflesh to comb +a twenty-mile radius of mesa to get a cow and calf which might have been +duplicated within a mile of the ranch. The Happy Family knew that Luck +was wading chin deep in the slough of despond, and they decided that he +kept them riding all day just for pure cussedness. +</p> + +<p> +I suppose they thought that his orders to range-herd the cattle they had +gathered came from the same mood, but they did not seem to mind. They +did whatever he told them to do, and they did it cheerfully,—which, in +the circumstances, is saying a good deal for the Happy Family. So with +the sun warm as early May, and the new grass showing tiny green +blade-tips in the sheltered places, they began range-herding two +thousand head of cattle that needed all the territory they could cover +for their feeding grounds. +</p> + +<p> +The twenty-fifth day of March brought no faintest promise of anything +that looked like snow. Applehead sharpened his hoe and went pecking at +the soil around the roots of his grape-vine arbor, thereby irritating +Luck to the point of distraction. He had reached a nervous tension where +he could not eat, and he could not sleep, and life looked a nightmare of +hard work and disappointments, of hopes luring deceitfully only to crush +one at the moment of fulfilment. +</p> + +<p> +It was because he could not sleep, but spent the nights stretched upon +his side with his wide-open eyes boring into vacancy and a drab future, +that he heard the wind whine over the ridgepole of the squat bunk-house +and knew that it had risen from a dead calm since bedtime. The languor of +nervous exhaustion was pulling his eyelids down over his tired eyes, and +he knew that it must be nearly morning; for sleep never came to him now +until after Applehead's brown rooster had crowed for two o'clock. +</p> + +<p> +He closed his eyes and dreamed that he was "shooting" blizzard scenes +with the snow to his armpits. He was chilled to the middle of his bones, +and his hand went down unconsciously and groped for the blankets he had +pushed off in his restlessness. In his sleep he was yelling to the +Cattlemen's Convention to wait,—not to adjourn yet, because he had +something to show them. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, show'em, dang it, an' shut up!" muttered Applehead crossly, and +turned over on his good ear so that he could sleep undisturbed. +</p> + +<p> +Luck, half awakened by the movement, curled up with his knees close to +his chin and went on with his dream. With the wind still mooing +lonesomely around the corners of the house, he slept more soundly than he +had slept for weeks, impelled, I suppose, by a subconscious easement from +his greatest anxiety. +</p> + +<p> +A slow tap-tap-tapping on the closed door near his head woke him just +before dawn. The lightest sleeper of them all, Luck lifted his head with +a start, and opened his sleep-blurred eyes upon blackness. He called out, +and it was the voice of Annie-Many-Ponies that answered. +</p> + +<p> +"Wagalexa Conka! You come quick. Plenty snow come. You be awful glad +when you see. Soon day comes. You hurry. I make plenty breakfast, +Wagalexa Conka." +</p> + +<p> +As a soldier springs from sleep when calls the bugle, Luck jumped out +into the icy darkness of the room. With one jerk he had the door open and +stood glorying in the wild gust of snow that broke over him like a wave. +In his bare feet he stood there, and felt the snow beat in his face, and +said never a word, since big emotions never quite reached the surface of +Luck's manner. +</p> + +<p> +"Day come quick, Wagalexa Conka!" The voice of Annie-Many-Ponies urged +him from without, like the voice of Opportunity calling from the storm. +</p> + +<p> +"All right. You run now and have breakfast ready. We come quick." He held +the door open another half minute, and he heard Annie-Many-Ponies laugh +as she fought her way back to the house through the blinding blizzard. He +saw a faint glow through the snow-whirl when she opened the kitchen door, +and he shut out the storm with a certain vague reluctance, as though he +half feared it might somehow escape into a warm, sunny morning and prove +itself no more than a maddeningly vivid dream. +</p> + +<p> +"Hey! Wake up!" he shouted while he groped for a match and the lamp. +"Roll into your sourdoughs, you sons-uh-guns—" +</p> + +<p> +"Say, Applehead," came a plaintive voice from Pink's hunk, "make +Luck turn over on the other side, can't yuh? Darn a man that talks +in his sleep!" +</p> + +<p> +"By cripes, Luck's got to sleep in the hay loft—er I will," Big Medicine +growled, making the boards of his bunk squeak with the flop of his +disturbed body. +</p> + +<p> +Then Luck found the lamp and struck a match, and it was seen that he was +very wide awake, and that his face had the look of a man intent upon +accomplishment. +</p> + +<p> +The Native Son sat up in one of the top bunks and looked down at Luck +with a queer solemnity in his eyes. "What is this, <i>amigo</i>?" he asked +with a stifled yawn. "Another one of your Big Minutes?" +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Quien sabe</i>?" Luck retorted, reaching for his clothes as his small +ebullition subsided to a misleading composure. "Storm's here at last, and +we'll have to be moving. Roll out and saddle your ridge-runners; Annie's +got breakfast all ready for us." +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, gwan!" grumbled Happy Jack from sheer force of habit, and made haste +to hit the floor with his feet before Luck replied to that apparent doubt +of his authority. +</p> + +<p> +"Dress warm as you can, boys," Luck advised curtly, lacing his own heavy +buckskin moccasins over thick German socks, which formed his cold-weather +footgear. "She's worse than that other one, if anything." +</p> + +<p> +"Mamma!" Weary murmured, in a tone of thanksgiving. "She didn't come any +too soon, did she?" +</p> + +<p> +Luck did not reply. He pulled his hat down low over his forehead, opened +the door and went out, and it was as though the wind and snow and +darkness swallowed him bodily. The horses must first be fed, and he +fought his way to the stables, where Applehead's precious hay was +dwindling rapidly under Luck's system of keeping mounts and a four-horse +team up and ready for just such an emergency. He labored through the +darkness to the stable door, lighted the lantern which hung just inside, +and went into the first stall. The manger was full, and the feed-box +still moist from the lapping tongue of the gray horse that stood there +munching industriously. Annie-Many-Ponies had evidently fed the horses +before she called Luck, and he felt a warm glow of gratitude for her +thoughtfulness. +</p> + +<p> +He stopped at the bunk-house to tell the boys that they had nothing to do +but eat breakfast before they saddled, and found them putting on +overcoats and gloves and wrangling over the probable location of the herd +that would have drifted in the night. So they ploughed in a straggling +group to the house, where Annie-Many-Ponies was already pouring the +coffee when they trooped in. +</p> + +<p> +Day was just breaking when they rode out into the full force of the +belated storm and up on the mesa where they had left the cattle scattered +and feeding more or less contentedly at sundown. They had not gone a mile +until their bodies began to shrink under the unaccustomed cold. Bill +Holmes, town-bred and awkward in the open, thankfully resigned to the +Indian girl the dignity of driving the mountain wagon with its four-horse +team, and huddled under blankets, while Annie-Many-Ponies piloted them +calmly straight across country in the wake of the riders whom her beloved +Wagalexa Conka was leading on the snuffy bay. Save for the difference in +his clothes, Annie-Many-Ponies thought that he much resembled that great +little war-chief of the white people who rode ahead of his column in a +picture hanging on the wall of the mission school. Napoleon was the great +little war-chief's name, and her heart swelled with pride as she drove +steadily through the storm and thought what a great war-chief her brother +Wagalexa Conka might have made, were these but the days of much fighting. +</p> + +<p> +There was to be no trouble with "static" this time, if Luck could help +it. To be doubly safe from blurred film, he had brought his ray filter +along, for the flakes of snow were large and falling fast. He had chosen +a different location, because of the direction of the wind and the +difficulty the boys would have had in driving the cattle back in the face +of it to the side hill where he had first taken the scenes of the +drifting herd. +</p> + +<p> +To-day he "shot" them first as they were filing reluctantly out through a +narrow pass which was supposed to be the entrance to the box canyon where +the two rustlers, Andy and Miguel, had kept them hidden away. +Artistically speaking, the cattle were in perfect condition for such a +scene, every rib showing as they trooped past the clicking camera +cleverly concealed in a clump of bushes; hip bones standing up, lean legs +shambling slowly through the snow that was already a foot deep. Cattle +hidden for days and days in a box canyon would not come out fat and sleek +and stepping briskly, and Luck was well pleased with the realism of his +picture, even while he pitied the poor beasts. +</p> + +<p> +Later he took the drifting of the herd, and he knew in his heart that the +scenes were better than those he had lost. He took tragic scenes of the +Native Son in his struggle to keep up and to keep going. He took him as +he fell and lay prone in the snow beside his fallen horse while the +blizzard whooped over him, and the snow fell upon his still face. In his +zeal he nearly froze the Native Son, who must lie there during two or +three "cut-back" scenes, and while Andy was coming up in search of him. +When Andy lifted him and found him actually limp in his arms, the anxiety +which a "close-up" revealed in his face was not all art. However, he did +not say anything until Luck's voracious scene-appetite had been at least +partially satisfied. +</p> + +<p> +"By gracious, I believe the son-of-a-gun is about froze," he snapped out +then; Luck grinned mirthlessly and called to Annie for the precious +thermos bottle, and poured a cup of strong black coffee, added a generous +dash of the apricot brandy which he spoke of familiarly as his +"cure-all," and had the Native Son very much alive and tramping around to +restore the circulation to his chilled limbs before Bill Holmes had +carried the camera to the location of the next scene. +</p> + +<p> +"By rights I should have left you the way you were till I got this last +death scene where Andy buries you under the rock ledge so he can get home +alive himself," Luck told Miguel heartlessly, when they were ready for +work again. "You were in proper condition, brother. But I'm human. So +you'll have to do a little more acting, from now on." +</p> + +<p> +With his mats placed with careful precision, he took his dissolve +"vision stuff" of the blizzard and the death of Miguel,—scenes which +were to torment the conscience of Andy the rustler into full repentance +and confession to his father. While the boys huddled around Annie's camp +fire and guzzled hot coffee and ate chilled sandwiches, Luck took some +fine scenes of the phantom herd marching eerily along the skyline of a +little slope. +</p> + +<p> +He "shot" every effective blizzard scene he had dreamed of so +despairingly when the weather was fine. Some scenes of especial +importance to his picture he took twice, so as to have the +"choice-of-action" so much prized by producers. This, you must know, was +a luxury in which Luck had not often permitted himself to indulge. With +raw negative at nearly four cents a foot, he had made it a point to shoot +only such scenes as gave every promise of being exactly what he wanted. +But with this precious blizzard that numbed his fingers most +realistically while he worked, but never once worried him for fear the +sun was going to shine before he had finished, he was as lavish of +negative as though he had a million-dollar corporation at his back. +</p> + +<p> +That evening, when they were luxuriating before the fireplace heaped with +dry wood which the flames were licking greedily, Luck became, for the +first time in months, the old Luck Lindsay who had fascinated them at the +Flying U. He told them stories of his days with the "Bill show," and +called upon the giggling Annie-Many-Ponies for proof of their truth; +whereat Annie-Many-Ponies would nod her head vigorously and declare that +it was "No lie. I see him plenty times do them thing. I know." He +disputed energetically with Big Medicine over the hardships of the day's +work; and as a demonstration of the fact that he was perfectly able to go +out right then and shoot another seven hundred feet of film, he seized +upon the <i>tom-tom</i> which Annie-Many-Ponies had made from a green calf +hide and an old cheese box, and in his moccasins he danced the Sioux +Buffalo Dance and several other dances in which Annie-Many-Ponies finally +joined and teetered around in the circle which the Happy Family +enthusiastically widened for the performers. +</p> + +<p> +Work there was yet to do, and plenty of it. Even if the weather came +clear on the morrow as he desired, he must make every minute count, if he +would take his picture to the Cattlemen's Convention. Work there was, and +problems there were to be solved. But he had his big blizzard stuff, and +he had his scenes of the phantom herd. So for an hour or two, on this +evening of triumph, Luck Lindsay threw care into a far corner, and danced +and sang as the Happy Family had never known he could do. +</p> + +<p> +"Here, Annie, take the drum; it's 'call the dog and put out the fire and +all go home.' If my luck stays with me, and the sun shines to-morrow, +we'll take these interiors of the double-exposure stuff. And then we'll +be eating on the run and sleeping as we ride, till that picture pops out +on the screen for the old cattlemen to see. Good night, folks; I'm going +to sleep to-night!" +</p> + +<p> +He went out whistling like a schoolboy going fishing. For luck was with +him once more, and his <i>Phantom Herd</i> was almost a reality as a picture. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap18"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER EIGHTEEN +<br><br> +A FEW OF THE MINOR DIFFICULTIES +</h3> + +<p> +However obliging fate may desire to be, certain of nature's laws must +be observed. Whether luck was disposed to stay with Luck Lindsay or +not, a storm such as the fates had conjured for his needs could not +well blow itself out as suddenly as it had blown itself in; so Luck did +not get all of his interior double-exposure stuff done the next day, +nor his remaining single-exposure stuff either. When his own reason and +Applehead's earnest assurances convinced him that the day after the +real blizzard day was going to be unfit for camera work, Luck took +Weary, Pink, and the Native Son to Albuquerque, rented a little house +he had discovered to be vacant, and set them to work building a drying +drum for his prints, according to the specifications he furnished them. +He hauled his tanks from the depot and showed the boys how to install +them so as to have the benefit of the running water, and got his +printer set up and ready to work; for he knew that he would have to +make his first prints himself, with the help of the Happy Family, the +photographer having neither the room nor the time for the work, and +Luck having no more than barely money enough to pay house rent and the +charges on his tanks and printer. +</p> + +<p> +Then, being an obliging young man when the fates permitted him to indulge +his natural tendencies, Luck made a hurried trip to a certain little shop +that had dusty mandolins and watches and guns and a cheap kodak in the +dingy window. He went in with his watch in his pocket ticking cheerfully +the minutes and hours that were so full of work and worry. When he came +out, the watch was ticking just as cheerfully in a drawer and the chain +was looped prosperously across his vest from buttonhole to empty pocket. +He went straight across to a grocery store and bought some salt pork and +coffee and cornmeal and matches which Rosemary had timidly asked him if +he could get. She explained apologetically that she was beginning to run +out of things, and that she had no idea they were going to have such +awful appetites, and that of course there were two extra people to feed, +and that they certainly could dispose of their share three times a +day,—meaning, of course, Annie-Many-Ponies and Bill Holmes. +</p> + +<p> +Even while his brain was doing swift mental gymnastics in addition and +subtraction, Luck had told her he would get whatever she wanted. His +watch brought enough to buy everything she asked for except a can of +syrup; and that, he told her, the groceryman must have overlooked, for he +certainly had ordered it. He called the groceryman names enough to +convince Rosemary that her list had not been too long for his purse, and +that Luck's occasional statement that he was broke must be taken +figuratively; Luck breathed a sigh of relief that Rosemary, at least, was +once more spared the knowledge that all was not yet plain sailing to a +smooth harbor. +</p> + +<p> +The next day being sunny, Luck finished the actual camera work on <i>The +Phantom Herd</i>. That night he and Bill Holmes developed every foot of +negative he had exposed since the storm began, and they finished just as +Rosemary rapped on the darkroom door and called that breakfast was +ready. Bill took it for granted that he could sleep, then, while the +negative was drying; but Luck was merciless; that Cattlemen's Convention +was only two days off,—counting that day which was already begun,—and +there was also a twelve-hour train trip, more or less, between his +picture and El Paso. +</p> + +<p> +Bill Holmes had learned to join film in movie theaters, and Luck set him +to work at it as soon as he had finished his breakfast. When Bill +grumbled that there wasn't any film cement, Luck very calmly went to his +trunk and brought some, thereby winning from Rosemary the admiring +statement that she didn't believe Luck Lindsay ever forgot a single, +solitary thing in his life! So Bill Holmes assembled the film, scene by +scene, without even the comfort of cigarettes to keep awake. At his elbow +Luck also joined film until the negative in the garret was dry enough to +handle, when he began cutting it according to the continuity sheet, ready +for Bill to assemble. +</p> + +<p> +Luck's mood was changeable that day. He would glow with the pride of +achievement when he held a yard or so of certain scenes to the light and +knew that he had done something which no other producer had ever done, +and that he had created a film story that would stand up like a lone peak +above the level of all other Western pictures. When those night scenes +were tinted—and that scene which had for its sub-title <i>Opening +Exercises</i>, and which showed the Happy Family mounting Applehead's +snakiest bronks and riding away from camp into what would be an orange +sunrise after the positive had been through its dye bath— +</p> + +<p> +And then discouragement would seize him, and he would wonder how he was +going to get hold of money enough to take him to El Paso and the +Convention. And how, in the name of destitution, was he going to pay for +that stock of "positive" when it came? Applehead was dead willing to help +him,—that went without saying; but Applehead was broke. That last load +of horse-feed had cleaned his pockets, as he had cheerfully informed Luck +over three weeks before. Applehead was not, and never would be by his own +efforts, more than comfortably secure from having to get out and work for +wages. He had cattle, but he let them run the range in season and out, +and it was only in good years that he had fair beef to ship. He hated a +gang of men hanging around the ranch and eating their fool heads off, he +frequently declared. So he and Compadre had lived in unprosperous peace, +with a little garden and a little grape arbor and a horse for Applehead +in the corral, and teams in the pasture where they could feed and water +themselves, and a month's supply of "grub" always in the house. Applehead +called that comfort, and could not see the advantage of burdening himself +with men and responsibilities that he might pile up money in the bank. +You can easily see where the coming of Luck and his outfit might strain +the financial resources of Applehead, even though Luck tried to bear all +extra expense for him. No, thought Luck, Applehead would have to mortgage +something if he were to attempt raising money then. And Luck would have +taken a pack-outfit and made the trip to El Paso on horseback before he +would see Applehead go in debt for him. As it was, he was seriously +considering that pack-horse proposition as a last resort, and trying to +invent some way of shaving his work down so that he would have time for +the trip. But certain grim facts could not be twisted to meet his needs. +He simply had to print his positive for projection on the screen. And +that positive simply had to go through certain processes that took a +certain amount of time; and it simply had to be dry and polished before +he could wind it on his reels. Reels? Lord-ee! He didn't have any reels +to +wind it on! +</p> + +<p> +"What's the matter? Spoil something?" Bill Holmes asked indifferently, +pausing to look at Luck before he took up the next strip of celluloid +ribbon with its perforated edges and its little squares of shadowlike +pictures that to the unpractised eye looked all alike. +</p> + +<p> +"No. What reel is that you're on now? We want to be in town before dark +with this stuff, so as to start the printer going to-night." By +printing, that night, and by hard riding, he might be able to make it, +he was thinking. +</p> + +<p> +"Think we'll be through in time?" +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly, we'll be through in time." Luck held up another strip to see +where to cut it. "We've got to be through!" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm liable to be joining this junk by the sides instead of the ends, +before long," Bill hinted. +</p> + +<p> +"No, you won't do anything like that." Luck's voice had a disturbing note +of absolute finality. +</p> + +<p> +Bill looked at him sidelong. "A fellow can't work forever without sleep. +My head's splitting right now. I can hardly see—" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, you can see well enough to do your work—and do it right! +Get that?" +</p> + +<p> +Bill grunted. Evidently he got it, for he said no more about his head, or +about sleep. He did glance frequently out of the tail of his eye at +Luck's absorbed face with his jaw set at a determined angle and his great +mop of iron-gray hair looking like a heavy field of grain after a +thunderstorm, standing out as it did in every direction. Now and then +Luck pushed it back impatiently with the flat of his palm, but he showed +no other sign of being conscious of anything at all save the picture; +though he could have told you offhand just how many times Bill turned +his eyes upon him. +</p> + +<p> +At noon they were not through, and to Bill the attempt to finish that day +seemed hopeless, not to say insane. But by four o'clock they were done +with the cutting and joining, and had their film carefully packed and in +the mountain wagon, and were ready to drive through the slushy mud which +was the aftermath of the blizzard to the little house in Albuquerque +which the boys had turned into a crude but efficient laboratory. +</p> + +<p> +There Luck continued to be merciless in his driving energy. He canvassed +the moving-picture theaters of the town and borrowed reels on which to +wind his film when it was once ready for winding. He went back to the +little house and set every one within it to work and kept them at it. He +printed his positive, dissolved his aniline dye, which was to be +firelight effect, in the bathtub,—and I should like to know what the +landlord thought when next he viewed that tub! He made an orange bath for +sunrise effects in one of the stationary tubs, and his light blue for +night tints in the other. He buzzed around in that little house like a +disturbed blue-bottle fly that cannot find an open window. He had his +sleeves rolled to his shoulders and his hair more tousled than ever; he +had blue circles under his eyes and dabs of dye distributed here and +there on his face and his arms; he had in his eyes the glitter of a man +who means to be obeyed instantly and implicitly, whatever his command may +be,—and if you want to know, he was obeyed in just that manner. +</p> + +<p> +Happy Jack and Big Medicine took turns at the crank of the big drying +drum, around which Andy and Weary had carefully wound the wet film. Being +a crude, home-made affair, the crank that kept that drum turning over and +over did not work with the ease of ball-bearings. But Happy Jack, rolling +his eyes up at Luck when he hurried past to attend to something +somewhere, did not venture his opinion of the task. Nor did Big Medicine +bellow any facetious remarks whatever, but turned and sweated, and used +the other hand awhile, and turned and turned, and goggled at Luck +whenever Luck came within his range of vision, and changed off to the +other hand and turned and turned, and still said nothing at all. +</p> + +<p> +Bill Holmes went to sleep about midnight and came near ruining a batch of +firelight scenes in the analine bath, and after that Luck did all the +technical part of the work himself. The Happy Family did what they could +and wished they were not so ignorant and could do more. They could not, +for instance, help Luck in the final assembling of the polished film and +the putting in of the sub-titles and inserts. But they could polish that +film, after he showed them how; so Pink and Weary did that. And at +daylight Luck shook Bill Holmes awake and set him to work again. +</p> + +<p> +Just to show that Luck was human, even though he was obsessed by a frenzy +of work, he sent the boys outside, whenever one of them could be spared, +for the smoke they craved and could not have among that five thousand +feet of precious but highly inflammable film. But he did not treat +himself to the luxury of a cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +Luck had not yet solved the problem of meeting the expense of the trip +to El Paso. Riding down with a pack-horse would take him too long; the +best he could do would not be quick enough; for the Convention would be +over before he got there, and his trip therefore useless. He worked +just as fast, however, as though he had only to buy his ticket and take +the train. +</p> + +<p> +And then, when the last drumful was drying, he got his idea, and took +Andy by the shoulder and led him out into the little front hall. "Boy," +he said, "you hook up the team and drive like hell out to the ranch and +get the camera and all the lenses. And right under the lid of my trunk +you'll find a letter file marked Receipts. In the C pocket you'll find +the sales slips of camera and so on; you bring them along. And bring my +bag and any clean socks and handkerchiefs you can find, and my gray suit +and some collars and ties. Oh, and my shoes. Make it back here by two +o'clock if you can; before three at the latest." +</p> + +<p> +"You bet yuh," assented Andy just as cheerfully as though he saw some +sense in the order. Luck's clothes were a reasonable request, but Andy +could not, for the life of him, figure any use for the camera and lenses; +and as for the receipts, that sounded to him like plain delirium. Andy's +brain, at that time, seemed to be revolving slowly round and round like +the big drying drum, and his thoughts were tangled in exasperating +visions of long, narrow strips of wet film. +</p> + +<p> +However, at two-thirty he drove smartly up to the little house with the +camera and Luck's brown leather bag packed with the small necessities of +highly civilized journeying, and a large flat package wrapped in old +newspapers. He had not set the brake that signalled the sweating horses +to stop, before Luck was in the doorway with his hat on his head and the +air of one whose business is both urgent and of large issues. +</p> + +<p> +"Got the receipts? All right! Where are the things? This the lenses? All +right! Put the team in the stable and go get yourself some rest." +</p> + +<p> +"Where's your rest coming in at?" Andy flung back over his shoulder, as +Luck turned away with the camera on his shoulder and the small case in +his hands. +</p> + +<p> +"Mine will come when I get through. I've got the last reel wound and +packed, though. You bed down somewhere and sleep. I'll be back in a +little. I'm going to catch that four o'clock train." +</p> + +<p> +When you consider that Luck made that statement with about fifteen cents +in his pocket and no ticket, you will understand why Andy gave him that +queer look as he drove off to the stable. Luck might have climbed up +beside Andy and ridden part of the way, but he was too preoccupied with +larger matters to think of it until he found himself picking his footing +around the mud through which Andy had splashed in comfort. +</p> + +<p> +At the bank, Luck went in at the side door which gave easy access to the +office behind; and without any ceremony whatever he tapped on a certain +glass-paneled door with a name printed across. He waited a second, and +then turned the knob and walked briskly in, carrying camera, tripod, and +the case of small attachments, and smiling his smile of white teeth and +perfect assurance and much good will. +</p> + +<p> +Now, the cashier whom he faced was a tall man worn thin with the worries +of his position and the care of a family. He lived in a large white +house, and his wife never seemed able to find a cook who could cook; so +the cashier was troubled with indigestion that made his manner one of +passive irritation with life. His children were for some reason forever +"coming down" with colds or whooping-cough or measles or something (you +have seen children like that), so his eyes were always tired with wakeful +nights. It needed a Luck Lindsay smile to bring any answering light into +the harassed face of that cashier, but it got there after the first +surprised glance. +</p> + +<p> +Luck stood his camera—screwed to its tripod—against the wall by the +door. "I'm Luck Lindsay, Mr. White," he announced in his easy, Texas +drawl. "I'm in a hurry, so I'll omit my full autobiography, if you don't +mind, and let you draw your own conclusions about my reputation and +character. I've a five-reel feature film called <i>The Phantom Herd</i> just +completed, and I want to take it down to El Paso and show it before the +Texas Cattlemen's Convention which meets there to-day. I want their +endorsement of it as a Western film which really portrays the West, to +incorporate in my advertisements in all the trade journals. But the +production of the film took my last cent, and I've got to raise money on +my camera for the trip down there. You see what I mean. I'm broke, and +I've got to catch that four o'clock train or the whole thing stops right +here. This camera cost me close to fifteen hundred dollars. Here are the +receipted sales slips to prove it. In Los Angeles I could easily get—" +He caught the beginning of a denial in Mr. White's sidewise movement of +the head—"ten times as much money on it as you can give me. You probably +don't know anything at all about motion-picture cameras, but you can read +these slips and find out how prices run." +</p> + +<p> +Mr. White had in a measure recovered from the effects of Luck's smile. He +picked up the slips and glanced at them indifferently. "There's a +pawn-shop just down the street, I believe," he said. "Why—" +</p> + +<p> +"I want to leave this camera here with you, anyway," Luck interrupted. +"It's valuable—too valuable to take any risk of fire or burglary. I +want to leave it in your vault. You've handled a good deal of my money, +and you know who I am, and what my standing is, or else you aren't the +right man for the position you occupy. It's your business to know these +things. Now, I'm not asking you for any big loan. All I want is expense +money for that trip. If you'll advance me seventy-five or a hundred +dollars on my note, with this camera as security, I'll thank you and +romp down to El Paso and get that endorsement before the convention +adjourns till next year." +</p> + +<p> +Mr. White looked at the camera strangely, as though he half expected it +to explode. "I should have to take it up with the directors—" +</p> + +<p> +"Directors! Hell, man, that train's due in an hour! What <i>are</i> you +around here—a man in authority, or just a dummy made up to look like +one? Do you mean to tell me you're afraid to stake me to enough money to +make El Paso and return? What, for the Lord's sake, do I look like, +anyway,—a crook?" +</p> + +<p> +Mr. White's head was more than six feet in the air when he stood up, and +Luck Lindsay in his high-heeled boots lacked a good six inches of that +altitude; but for all that, Luck Lindsay was a bigger man than Mr. +White. He dominated the cashier; he made the cashier conscious of his +dyspepsia and his thin hair and his flabby muscles and his lack of +enthusiasm with life. +</p> + +<p> +"The directors have to pass on all bank loans," he explained +apologetically, "but I can lend you the money out of my personal account. +If you will excuse me, I'll get the money before my assistant closes the +vault. And shall I put these inside for you?" He rose and started for the +inner door with a deprecating smile. +</p> + +<p> +"Aren't you going to take a note?" Luck studied the man with +sharpened glance. +</p> + +<p> +"My check will be a sufficient record of the transaction, I think." And +Mr. White, with two or three words scribbled at the bottom, proceeded to +make the check a record. "I am glad to be able to stake you, Mr. Lindsay, +and I hope your trip will be successful." +</p> + +<p> +He got another Luck Lindsay smile for that, and the apology he had coming +to him. And then in a very few minutes Luck hurried out and back to the +little house on the edge of town. +</p> + +<p> +"Where's my bag? So long, boys; I'm going to drift. I'll change clothes +on the train—haven't got time now. Here's five dollars, Andy, for the +stable bill and so on. Bill, you're the only one of the bunch that +shirked, so you can carry this box of reels to the depot for me. <i>Adios</i>, +boys, I'm sure going to romp all over that Convention, believe me, if +they don't swear <i>The Phantom Herd's</i> a winner from the first scene!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap19"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER NINETEEN +<br><br> +WHEREIN LUCK MAKES A SPEECH +</h3> + +<p> +Luck stood on the platform of the Texas Cattlemen's Convention and looked +down upon the work-lined, brown faces of the men whose lives had for the +most part been spent out of doors. Their sober attentiveness confused him +for a minute so that he forgot what he wanted to say—he, Luck Lindsay, +who had faced the great audiences of Madison Square Garden and had smiled +his endearing smile and made his bow with perfect poise and an eye for +pretty faces; who had without a quiver faced the camera, many's the time, +in difficult scenes; who had faced death more times than he could count, +and what was to him worse than death,—blank failure. But these old +range-men with the wind-and-sun wrinkles around their eyes, and their +ready-to-wear suits, and their judicial air of sober attention,—these +were to him the jury that would weigh his work and say whether it was +worthy. These men— +</p> + +<p> +And then one of them suddenly cleared his throat with a rasping sound +like old Dave Wiswell, his dried little cowman of the picture, and +embarrassment dropped from Luck like a cloak flung aside. He was here to +put his work to the test; to let these men say whether <i>The Phantom Herd</i> +was worthy to be called a great picture, one of which the West could be +proud. So he pushed back his mop of hair—grayer than the hair of many +here old enough to be his father—with the fiat of his palm, and looked +straight into the faces of these men and said what he had to say: +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Chairman, and gentlemen of this Convention, I consider it a great +privilege to be able to stand here and speak to you—a greater privilege +than any of you realize, perhaps. For my heart has always been in the +range-land, my people have been the people of the plains. I have to-day +been honored by the hand-grip of old-timers who were riding circle, +trailing long-horns, and working cattle when I was a boy in short pants. +</p> + +<p> +"I have trailed herds on the pay roll of one man who remembers me here +to-day, and of others who have crossed the Big Divide. I have seen the +open range shrink before the coming of barbed wire and settlers. I have +watched the 'long shadow' fall across God's own cattle country. +</p> + +<p> +"Since I entered the motion-picture business, my one great aim and my one +great dream has been to produce one real Western picture. One picture +that I could present with pride to such a convention as this, and have +men who have spent their lives in the cattle industry give it the stamp +of their approval; one picture that would make such men forget the +present and relive the old days when they were punchers all and proud of +it. Such an opportunity came to me last fall and I made the most of it. I +got me a bunch of real boys, and went to work on the picture I have +called <i>The Phantom Herd.</i> From the trail-herds going north I have tried +to weave into my story a glimpse of the whole history of the range +critter, from the shivering, new-born calf that hit the range along with +a spring blizzard, to the big, four-year-old steer prodded up the chutes +into the shipping cars. +</p> + +<p> +"I want you, who know the false from the real, to see <i>The Phantom Herd</i> +and say whether I have done my work well. I finished the picture +yesterday, and I have brought it down here for the purpose of asking you +to honor me by accepting an invitation to a private showing of the +picture this evening, here in this hall. I want you to come and bring +your wives and your children with you if you can. I want you to see <i>The +Phantom Herd</i> before it goes to the public—and to-morrow I shall face +you again and accept your verdict. You know the West. You will know a +Western picture when you see it. I know you know, and I want you to tell +me what you think of it. Your word will be final, as far as I am +concerned. Gentlemen, I hope you will all be present here to-night at +eight o'clock as my guests. I thank you for your attention." +</p> + +<p> +Luck went away from there feeling, and telling himself emphatically, that +he had made a "rotten" talk. He had not said what he had meant to say, or +at least he had not said it the way he had meant to say it. But he was +too busy to dwell much upon his deficiencies as an orator; he had yet to +borrow a projection machine and operator from somewhere—for, as usual, +he had issued his invitation before he had definitely arranged for the +exhibition, and had trusted to luck and his own efforts to be able to +keep his promise. +</p> + +<p> +Luck (or his own efforts) landed him within easy conversational reach of +a man who was preparing to open a little theater on a side street. The +seats were not in yet, but he had his machine, and he meant to operate it +himself, while his wife sold tickets and his boy acted as usher,—a +family combination which to Luck seemed likely to be a success. This man, +when Luck made known his needs, said he was perfectly willing to "limber +up" his machine and himself on <i>The Phantom Herd</i>, if Luck would let his +wife and boy see the picture, and would pay the slight operating +expenses. So that was settled very easily. +</p> + +<p> +At five minutes to eight that evening all of the cattlemen and a few +favored, influential citizens of El Paso whom Luck had invited personally +sat waiting before the blank screen. Up in the operator's cramped +quarters Luck was having a nervous chill and trying his best not to show +it, and he was telling the operator to give it time enough, for the +Lord's sake, and to be sure he had everything ready before he started in, +and so forth, until the operator was almost as nervous as Luck himself. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, look here," he cried exasperatedly at last. "You know your +business, and I know mine. You're going to have me named in your +write-ups as the movie-man that run this show for the convention, ain't +you? And I'm going to open up a picture house next week in this town, +ain't I? And I ain't going to advertise myself as a bum operator, am I? +Now you <i>vamos</i> outa here and get down there in the audience, if you +don't want me to get the fidgets and spoil something. Go on—beat it!" +</p> + +<p> +Luck must have been in a strange condition, for he beat it promptly and +without any retort, and slid furtively into a chair between two old +range-men just as the operator's boy-usher switched off the lights. +Luck's heart began to pound so that he half expected his neighbors to +tell him to close his muffler,—only they were of the saddle-horse +fraternity and would not have known what the phrase meant. +</p> + +<p> +<i>The Phantom Herd</i> flashed suddenly upon the screen and joggled there +dizzily, away over to one side. Luck clapped his hand to his perspiring +forehead and murmured "Oh, my Gawd!" like a prayer, and shut his eyes to +hide from them the desecration. He opened them to find that the caste was +just flicking off and the first scene dissolving in. +</p> + +<p> +The man at his left gave a long sigh and crossed his knees, and leaned +back and began to chew tobacco rapidly between his worn old molars. +</p> + +<p> +<i>"Oh, a ten dollar hoss and a forty dollar saddle,<br> +I'm goin' to punchin' Texas cattle."</i> +</p> + +<p> +The sub-title dissolved slowly into a scene showing a cow-puncher (who +was Weary) swinging on to his rangy cow-Horse and galloping away after +the chuck-wagon just disappearing in the wake of the dust-flinging +<i>remuda</i>. Back somewhere in the dusk of the audience, a man began to hum +the tune that went with the words, and the heart of Luck Lindsay gave an +exultant bound. He had used lines from "The Old Chisholm Trail" and other +old-time range songs for his sub-titles, to keep the range atmosphere +complete, and that cracked voice humming unconsciously told how it +appealed to these men of the range. +</p> + +<p> +Luck did not slide down in his seat so that his head rested on the +chair-back while <i>The Phantom Herd</i> was being shown. Instead, he sat +leaning forward, with his face white and strained, and watched for weak +points and for bad photography and scenes that could have been bettered. +</p> + +<p> +He saw the big trail-herd go winding away across the level, with Weary +riding "point" and Happy Jack bringing up the "drag," and the others +scattered along between; riding slouched in their saddles, hatbrims +pulled low over eyes smarting with the dust that showed in a thin film at +the head of the herd and grew thicker toward the drag, until riders and +animals were seen dimly through a haze. +</p> + +<p> +"My—I can just feel that dust in m' throat!" muttered the man at his +right, and coughed. +</p> + +<p> +Luck saw the storm come muttering up just as the cattle were bedding down +for the night. He saw the lightning, and he knew that those who watched +with him were straining forward. He heard some one say involuntarily: +"They'll break and run, sure as hell!" and he knew that he had done that +part of his work well. +</p> + +<p> +He saw the night scenes he had taken in town. He almost forgot that all +this was his work, so smoothly did the story steal across his senses and +beguile him into half believing it was true and not a fabric which he had +built with careful planning and much toil. He saw the round-up scenes; +the day-herd, the cutting-out and the branding, the beef-herd driven to +the shipping cars. True, those steers were not exactly prime beef,—he +had caught the culls only, late in the season for these scenes—but they +passed, with one audible comment that this was a poor season for beef! +</p> + +<p> +"We rounded 'em up and we put 'em in the cars—" +</p> + +<p> +The sub-title sang itself familiarly into the minds of the range men. +More than one voice was heard to begin a surreptitious humming of the +old tune, and to cease abruptly with the sudden self-consciousness of +the singer. +</p> + +<p> +But there was the story, growing insensibly out of the range work. Luck, +more at ease now in his mind, studied it critically. There was the +quarrel between old Dave and Andy, his son. He saw the old man out with +his men, standing his shift of night-guard, stubbornly resisting the +creeping years and his load of trouble; riding around the sleeping herd +with his head sunk on his chest, meeting the younger guard twice on each +complete circle, and yet never seeming to see him at all. +</p> + +<p> +"Sing low to your cattle, sing low to your steers—" +</p> + +<p> +The words and the scene opened wide the door of memory and let whole +troops of ghosts come drifting in out of the past. The hall, Luck roused +himself to notice, was very, very still; so still that the sizzling sound +of the machine at the rear was distinct and oppressive. +</p> + +<p> +There was the blizzard, terrible in its biting realism. There was the old +cow and calf, separated from the herd, fighting in the primal instinct to +preserve themselves alive,—fighting and losing. There was that other, +more terrible fight for existence, the fight of the Native Son against +the snow and the cold. Men drew their breath sharply when he fell and did +not rise again. They shivered when the snow began to drift against his +quiet body, to lodge and shift and settle, and grow higher and higher +until the bank was even with his shoulders, to drift over him and make of +him a white mound—And then, when Andy staggered up through the swirl, +leading his horse and shouting; when he stumbled against Miguel and tried +to raise him and rouse him, a sound like a groan went through the crowd. +</p> + +<p> +"Close a call as I ever had was in a blizzard like that," the old man at +Luck's left whispered agitatedly to Luck behind his palm, when the lights +snapped on while the operator was changing for the last reel. +</p> + +<p> +There was Andy, haunted and haggard, at home again with his father. There +were those dissolve scenes of the "phantom herd" drifting always across +the skyline whenever Andy looked out into the night or rose startled +from uneasy sleep. Weird, it was,—weird and real and very terrible. And, +at last, there was that wonderful camp-fire scene of the Indian girl who +prayed to her gods before she went to meet her lover who was dead and +could not keep the tryst. There were heart-breaking scenes where the +Indian girl wandered in wild places, looking, hoping, despairing—Luck +had planned every little detail of those scenes, and yet they thrilled +him as though he had come to them unawares. +</p> + +<p> +He did not wait after the last scene faded out slowly. He slipped quietly +into the aisle and went away, while the hands of the old-timers were +stinging with applause. Halfway down the block he heard it still, and his +steps quickened unconsciously. They were calling his name, back there in +the hall. They were all talking at once and clapping their hands and, as +an interlude, shouting the name of Luck Lindsay. But Luck did not heed. +He wanted to get away by himself. He did not feel as though he could say +anything at all to any one, just then. He had seen his Big Picture, and +he had seen that it was as big and as perfect, almost, as he had dreamed +it. To Luck, at that moment, words would have cheapened it,—even the +words of the old cattlemen. +</p> + +<p> +He went to his hotel and straight up to his room, regardless of the fact +that it would have been to his advantage to mingle with his guests and to +listen to their praise. He went to bed and lay there in the dark, +reliving the scenes of his story. Then, after awhile, he drifted off into +sleep, his first dreamless, untroubled slumber in many a night. +</p> + +<p> +By the time the Convention was assembled the next day, however, he had +recovered his old spirit of driving energy. The chairman had invited him +by telephone to attend the afternoon meeting, and Luck went—to be +greeted by a rousing applause when he walked down the aisle to the +platform where the chairman was waiting for him. +</p> + +<p> +Resolutions had already been passed, the Convention as a body thanking +Luck Lindsay for the privilege of seeing what was in their judgment the +greatest Western picture that had ever been produced. The chairman made a +little speech about the pleasure and the privilege, and presented Luck +with a letter of endorsement and signed with due formality by chairman +and secretary and sealed with the official seal. Attached to the letter +was a copy of the vote of thanks, and you may imagine how Luck smiled +when he saw that! +</p> + +<p> +He stayed a little while, and during the recess which presently was +called he shook hands with many an old-timer whose name stood for a good +deal in the great State of Texas. Then he left them, still smiling over +what he called his good luck, and wired a copy of the letter of +endorsement to all the trade journals, to be incorporated in his +full-page advertising. By another stroke of luck he caught most of the +trade journals before their forms closed for the next issue, so that <i>The +Phantom Herd</i> was speedily heralded throughout the profession as the +first really authentic Western drama ever produced. By still another +stroke of what he called luck, an Associated Press man found him out, and +was pleased to ask him many questions and to make a few notes; and Luck, +wise to the value of publicity, answered the questions and saw to it that +the notes recorded interesting facts. +</p> + +<p> +That evening Luck, feeling that he had reached the last mile-post on the +road to success, hunted up a few old-timers who appealed to him most as +true types of the range, and gave them a dinner in a certain place which +he knew was run by an old round-up cook. There was nothing about that +dinner which would have appealed to a cabaret crowd. They talked of the +old days when Luck was a lad, those old-timers; they talked of +trail-herds and of droughts and of floods and blizzards and range wars +and the market prices of beef "on the hoof." They called in the old +round-up cook and cursed him companionably as one of themselves, and +remembered that more than one of them had run when he pounded the bottom +of a frying pan and hollered "Come and get it!" They ate and they smoked +and they talked and talked and talked, until Luck had to indulge himself +in a taxi if he would not miss the eleven o'clock train north. His only +regret, in spite of the fact that he was practically and familiarly broke +again, was that circumstances did not permit the Happy Family to sit with +him at that table. Especially did he regret not having old Applehead and +the dried little man with him that night to make his gathering complete. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap20"></a></p> +<h3> +CHAPTER TWENTY +<br><br> +"SHE'S SHAPING UP LIKE A BANK ROLL" +</h3> + +<p> +"Well," said Luck to the Happy Family, "we've come this far along the +trail, and now I'm stuck again. Bank won't loan any more on the camera, +and I've got a dollar and six bits to market <i>The Phantom Herd</i> with! +Everything's fine so far; she's advertised,—or will be when the +magazines come out,—and she's got some good press notices to back her +up; but she ain't outa the woods yet. I've got to raise some money +somehow. I hate to ask poor old Applehead—" +</p> + +<p> +"Pore old Applehead, my granny!" bawled Big Medicine, laughing his big +<i>haw-haw.</i> "Pore ole Applehead's sure steppin' high these days. He'd +mortgage his ranch and feel like a millionaire, by cripes! His ole +Come-Paddy cat jest natcherally walloped the tar outa Shunky Cheestely, +and Applehead seen him doin' it. Come-Paddy, he's hangin' out in the +house now, by cripes, 'cept when he takes a sashay down to the stable +lookin' fer more. And Shunky, he's bedded down under the Ketch-all, when +he ain't hittin' fer the tall timber with his tail clamped down between +his legs. Honest to grandma, Luck, you couldn't hit Applehead at a better +time. He'll borry money er do anything yuh care to ask, except shut up +that there cat uh hisn." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, luck may come my way; I'll just sit tight a few days and see," +said Luck. "When that positive film comes, I'll have to rustle money +somewhere to get it outa the express office, so we can make more +prints. And—" +</p> + +<p> +"And grind our daylights out again on that there drum that never does git +wound up?" groaned Big Medicine, and felt his biceps tenderly. +</p> + +<p> +"We won't rush the next job quite so hard," Luck soothed, perfectly +amiable and easy to live with, now that the worst was over. "We made a +darn good set of prints, just the same; boys, you oughta seen that +picture! I've a good mind to get some house here in town to run it; say, +I might raise some money that way, if I can't do it any other." And then +his enthusiasm cooled. "Town isn't big enough for a long-enough run," he +considered disgustedly. "I'm past the two-bit stage of the game now." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you ask Applehead to raise the money," advised Weary. "Or one of +us will write to Chip for some. Mamma! The world's full of money! Seems +like it ought to be easy to get hold of some." +</p> + +<p> +"It is—but it ain't," Luck stated somewhat ambiguously, and turned the +talk to his meeting with the old-timers, and prepared to "sit tight" and +wait for his god Good Luck to smile upon him. +</p> + +<p> +The smile arrived at noon the next day, in the form of a wire from +Philadelphia. Luck read it and gave a whoop of joy quite at variance with +his usual surface calm. +</p> + +<p> +Can Offer You Fifteen Hundred Dollars for Pennsylvania Rights The +Phantom Herd Usual Ten Cents Per Foot Positive Prints if Accepted Wire at +Once and Ship to This Point +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +RJ Crittenden +</p> + +<p> +"I hollered too soon," groaned Luck, when he had read it the second time, +pushing back his hair distractedly. "How the devil am I going to send him +any positive prints at ten cents a foot or ten cents an inch or any other +price? Till I get that shipment of positive, I can't fill any orders at +all! And until I begin to fill orders, I can't realize on the film. Can +you beat that? I'll have to wire him to wait, and that's two thousand +dollars tied up!" +</p> + +<p> +"Aw, gwan!" Happy Jack croaked argumentatively. "Why don't you send him +what you took to the Convention?" +</p> + +<p> +Luck stared at Happy stupefied before he said a word. "Say, Miguel, you +saddle your ridge-runner while I get ready to take this wire hack to +town and send it off," he snapped, preparing to write. "Sure, I'll send +that set of prints! Happy, you can go to the head of the class. Now +it's only a case of sit tight till the money comes. The prints are +packed and in the bank vault, so I'll just get them out and send them +C.O.D. to Mr. Crittenden, along with the states rights contract. How's +that for luck, boys?" +</p> + +<p> +"Pretty good—for Luck," grinned Andy meaningly. "Fly at it, you coming +millionaire!" +</p> + +<p> +"Just a case of sit tight, boys. <i>Adios!"</i> cried Luck jubilantly as he +hurried away. +</p> + +<p> +Once start along a smooth trail, and everything seems to conspire toward +a pleasant trip. To prove it, Luck found another telegram waiting for him +in Albuquerque. This was from Martinson, and might be interpreted as an +apology more or less abject. Certainly it was an urgent request that he +return immediately to Los Angeles and to his old place at the Acme, and +produce Western pictures under no supervision whatever. +</p> + +<p> +Luck gave a little chuckle when he pocketed that message, but he did not +send any answer. He meant to wait and talk it over with the boys first. +"Better proposition than before," Martinson said. Well, perhaps it would +be best to look into it; Luck was too experienced to believe that one +success means permanent success; there are too many risks for the free +lance to run when a single failure means financial annihilation. If the +Acme would come to his terms, it might be to his advantage to take his +boys back and accept this peace-offering. At any rate, he appreciated to +the full the triumph they had scored. +</p> + +<p> +Next, by some twist of the red tape in the Philadelphia express +office,—or perhaps R.J. Crittenden was a good fellow and asked them to +do it,—the two thousand dollars came by wire, just three days after Luck +had received notice that his shipment of positive film was being held for +him at the express office in Albuquerque. Also came other offers, mostly +by wire, for states rights to <i>The Phantom Herd.</i> And when the Happy +Family realized what those offers meant, they didn't care how hard or how +long Luck worked them in the little house which he had turned into a +laboratory. +</p> + +<p> +Being human, intensely so in some ways, the first set of prints they +turned out Luck sent to Los Angeles with a mental godspeed and a hope +that Bently Brown and Martinson would see it and "get wise to what a +<i>real</i> Western picture looked like." There were other orders ahead of Los +Angeles in Luck's book, but they waited a little longer so that he might +the sooner taste a little of the sweets of revenge. +</p> + +<p> +Whether Bently Brown and Martinson saw <i>The Phantom Herd,</i> Luck was a +long, long time finding out. But he learned that some one else did see +it, and that right speedily. For among his many telegrams that came +clicking into Albuquerque was this one which makes a fitting end to +this story: +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +Luck Lindsay<br> +Albuquerque<br> +New Mexico<br> +</p> + +<p> +Congratulations on <i>The Phantom Herd</i> Wonderful Production New +Proposition You to Produce Western Features with Your Present Company on +Straight Salary and Bonus Basis Miss Jean Douglas to Play Your Leads if I +Can Sign Her up Can You Come Here at Once to Close Deal Answer +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +Dewitt +</p> + +<p> +"All right, boys, you can run and play." Luck handed them the telegram, +looked at his watch, and began to roll down his sleeves. "I'll catch the +next train for 'Los' and see Dewitt,—don't take any studying to know +that's the thing to do,—and if you'll pack all this negative, Bill, I'll +take that along and hire the rest of the prints made. Andy, you're riding +herd on this bunch while I'm gone. Just hold yourselves ready for orders, +because I don't know how things will shape up. But believe me, boys, +she's shaping up like a bank-roll!" +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p> +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM HERD*** +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +******* This file should be named 12663-h.htm or 12663-h.zip ******* +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/6/6/12663 +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions +will be renamed. +</p> + +<p> +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Phantom Herd + +Author: B. M. Bower + +Release Date: June 19, 2004 [eBook #12663] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM HERD*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Project Gutenberg Beginners Projects, +Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +THE PHANTOM HERD + +BY B. M. BOWER + +Author of Chip of the Flying-U, The Flying-U's Last Stand, +The Gringos, etc. + +1916 + + + + + + + +FOREWORD + +For the accuracy of certain parts of this story which deal most +intimately with the business of making motion pictures, I am indebted to +Buck Connor. whose name is a sufficient guarantee that all technical +points are correct. His criticism, advice and other assistance have been +invaluable, and I take this opportunity of expressing my appreciation and +thanks for the help he has given me. + +B.M.BOWER. + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER + + + I THE INDIANS MUST GO + + II "WHERE THE CATTLE ROAMED IN THOUSANDS, A-MANY A HERD AND + BRAND..." + + III AND THEY SIGH FOR THE DAYS THAT ARE GONE + + IV THE LITTLE DOCTOR PROTESTS + + V A BUNCH OF ONE-REELERS FROM BENTLY BROWN + + VI VILLAINS ALL AND PROUD OF IT + + VII BENTLY BROWN DOES NOT APPRECIATE COMEDY + + VIII "THERE'S GOT TO BE A LINE DRAWN SOMEWHERES" + + IX LEAVE IT TO THE BUNCH + + X UNEXPECTED GUESTS FOR APPLEHEAD + + XI JUST A FEW UNFORESEEN OBSTACLES + + XII "I THINK YOU NEED INDIAN GIRL FOR PICTURE" + + XIII "PAM. BLEAK MESA--CATTLE DRIFTING BEFORE WIND--" + + XIV "PLUMB SPOILED, D'YUH MEAN?" + + XV A LETTER FROM CHIEF BIG TURKEY + + XVI "THE CHANCES IS SLIM AND GITTIN' SLIMMER" + + XVII THE STORM + + XVIII A FEW OF THE MINOR DIFFICULTIES + + XIX WHEREIN LUCK MAKES A SPEECH + + XX "SHE'S SHAPING UP LIKE A BANK ROLL" + + + + + +CHAPTER ONE + +THE INDIANS MUST GO + + +Luck Lindsay had convoyed his thirty-five actor-Indians to their +reservation at Pine Ridge, and had turned them over to the agent in good +condition and a fine humor and nice new hair hatbands and other fixings; +while their pockets were heavy with dollars that you may be sure would +not he spent very wisely. He had shaken hands with the braves, and had +promised to let them know when there was another job in sight, and to +speak a good word for them to other motion-picture companies who might +want to hire real Indians. He had smiled at the fat old squaws who had +waddled docilely in and out of the scenes and teetered tirelessly round +and round in their queer native dances in the hot sun at his behest, when +Luck wanted several rehearsals of "atmosphere" scenes before turning the +camera on them. + +They hated to go back to the tame life of the reservation and to +stringing beads and sewing buckskin with sinew, and to gossiping among +themselves of things their heavy-lidded black eyes had looked upon with +such seeming apathy. They had given Luck an elaborately beaded buckskin +vest that would photograph beautifully, and three pairs of heavy, beaded +moccasins which he most solemnly assured them he would wear in his next +picture. The smoke-smell of their tepee fires and perfumes still clung +heavily to the Indian-tanned buckskin, so that Luck carried away with +him an aroma indescribable and unmistakable to any one who has ever +smelled it. + +Just when he was leaving, a shy, big-eyed girl of ten had slid out from +the shelter of her mother's poppy-patterned skirt, had proffered three +strings of beads, and had fled. Luck had smiled his smile again--a smile +of white, even teeth and so much good will that you immediately felt that +he was your friend--and called her back to him. Luck was chief; and his +commands were to be obeyed, instantly and implicitly; that much he had +impressed deeply upon the least of these. While the squaws grinned and +murmured Indian words to one another, the big-eye girl returned +reluctantly; and Luck, dropping a hand to his coat pocket while he smiled +reassurance, emptied that pocket of gum for her. His smile had lingered +after he turned away; for like flies to an open syrup can the papooses +had gathered around the girl. + +Well, that job was done, and done well. Every one was satisfied save Luck +himself. He swung up to the back of the Indian pony that would carry him +through the Bad Lands to the railroad, and turned for a last look. The +bucks stood hip-shot and with their arms folded, watching him gravely. +The squaws pushed straggling locks from their eyes that they might watch +him also. The papooses were chewing gum and staring at him solemnly. Old +Mrs. Ghost-Dog, she of the ponderous form and plaid blanket that Luck had +used with such good effect in the foreground of his atmosphere scenes, +lifted up her voice suddenly, and wailed after him in high-keyed lament +that she would see his face no more; and Luck felt a sudden contraction +of the throat while he waved his hand to them and rode away. + +Well, now he must go on to the next job, which he hoped would be more +pleasant than this one had been. Luck hated to give up those Indians. He +liked them, and they liked him,--though that was not the point. He had +done good work with them. When he directed the scenes, those Indians did +just what he wanted, and just the way he wanted it done; Luck was too old +a director not to know the full value of such workers. + +But the Acme Film Company, caught with the rest of the world in the +pressure of hard times, wanted to economize. The manager had pointed out +to Luck, during the course of an evening's discussion, that these Indians +were luxuries in the making of pictures, and must be taken off the +payroll for the good of the dividends. The manager had contended that +white men and women, properly made up, could play the part of Indians +where Indians were needed; whereas Indians could never be made to play +the part of white men and women. Therefore, since white men and women +were absolutely necessary. Why keep a bunch of Indians around eating up +profits? The manager had sense on his side, of course. Other companies +were making Indian pictures occasionally with not a real Indian within +miles of the camera, but Luck Lindsay groaned inwardly, and cursed the +necessity of economizing. For Luck had one idol, and that idol was +realism. When the scenario called for twenty or thirty Indians, Luck +wanted _Indians_,--real, smoke-tanned, blanketed bucks and squaws and +papooses; not made-up whites who looked like animated signs for cigar +stores and acted like,--well, never mind what Luck said they acted like. + +"I can take the Injuns back," he conceded, "and worry along somehow +without them. But if you want me to put on any more Western stuff, you'll +have to let me weed out some of these Main Street cowboys that Clements +wished on to me, and go out in the sagebrush and round up some that +ain't all hair hatbands and high-heeled boots and bluff. I've got to have +some whites to fill the foreground, if I give up the Injuns; or else I +quit Western stuff altogether. I've been stalling along and keeping the +best of the bucks in the foreground, and letting these said riders lope +in and out of scenes and pile off and go to shooting soon as the camera +picks them up, but with the Injuns gone, the whites won't get by. + +"Maybe you have noticed that when there was any real riding, I've had the +Injuns do it. And do you think I've been driving that stagecoach +hell-bent from here to beyond because I'd no other way to kill time? +Wasn't another darned man in the outfit I'd trust, that's why. If I take +the Indians back, I've got to have some real boys." Luck's voice was +plaintive, and a little bit desperate. + +"Well, dammit, _have_ your real boys! I never said you shouldn't. Weed +out the company to suit yourself. You'll have to take the Injuns back; +nobody else can handle the touch-me-not devils. You can lay off the +company if you want to, and while you're up there pick up a bunch of +cowboys to suit you. You're making good, Luck; don't take it that I'm +criticizing anything you've done or the way you did it. You've been +turning out the best Western stuff that goes on the screen; anybody knows +that. That isn't the point. We just simply can't afford to keep those +Indians any longer without retrenching on something else that's a lot +more vital. You know what they cost as well as I do; you know what +present conditions are. Figure it out for yourself." + +"I don't have to," Luck retorted in a worried tone. "I know what we're up +against. I know we ought to give them up--but I sure hate to do it! +Lor-_dee_, but I can do things with that bunch! Remember Red Brother?" +Luck was off on his hobby, the making of Indian pictures. "Remember the +panoram effect I got on that massacre of the wagon train? Remember the +council-of-war scene, and the close-up of Young-Dog-Howls-At-The-Moon +making his plea for the lives of the prisoners? And the war dance with +radium flares in the camp fires to give the light-effect? That film's in +big demand yet, they tell me. I'll never be able to put over stuff like +that with made-up actors, Martinson. You know I can't." + +"I don't know; you're only just beginning to hit your gait, Luck," the +manager soothed. "You have turned out some big stuff,--some awful big +stuff; but at that you're just beginning to find yourself. Now, listen. +You can have your 'real boys' you're always crying for. I can see what +you mean when you pan these fellows you call Main Street cowboys. What +you better do is this: Close down the company for two weeks, say. Keep on +the ones you want, and let the rest out. And take these Injuns home, and +then get out after your riders. Numbers and salaries we'll leave to you. +Go as far as you like; it's a cinch you'll get what you want if you're +allowed to go after it." + +So here was Luck, arriving in due time at the railroad. He said good-by +to Young-Dog-Howls-At-The-Moon who had ridden with him, and whose kingly +bearing and clean-cut features and impressive pantomime made him a +popular screen-Indian, and sat down upon a baggage truck to smoke a +cigarette while he waited for the westbound train. + +Young-Dog-Howls-At-The-Moon he watched meditatively until that young man +had bobbed out of sight over a low hill, the pony Luck had ridden +trailing after at the end of the lead-rope. Luck's face was sober, his +eyes tired and unsmiling. He had done that much of his task: he had +returned the Indians, and automatically wiped a very large item of +expense from the accounts of the Acme Film Company. He did not like to +dwell, however, on the cost to his own pride in his work. + +The next job, now that he was actually face to face with it, looked not +so simple. He was in a country where, a few years before, his quest for +"real boys"--as he affectionately termed the type nearest his +heart--would have been easy enough. But before the marching ranks of +fence posts and barbed wire, the real boys had scattered. A more or less +beneficent government had not gathered them together, and held them apart +from the changing conditions, as it had done with the Indians. The real +boys had either left the country, or had sold their riding outfits and +gone into business in the little towns scattered hereabouts, or else they +had taken to farming the land where the big herds had grazed while the +real boys loafed on guard. + +Luck admitted to himself that in the past two years, even, conditions had +changed amazingly. Land was fenced that had been free. Even the +reservation was changed a little. He threw away that cigarette and +lighted another, and turned aggrievedly upon a dried little man who came +up with the open expectation of using the truck upon which Luck was +sitting uncomfortably. There was the squint of long looking against sun +and wind at a far skyline in the dried little man's face. There was a +certain bow in his legs, and there were various other signs which Luck +read instinctively as he got up. He smiled his smile, and the dried +little man grinned back companionably. + +"Say, old-timer, what's gone with all the cattle and all the punchers?" +Luck demanded with a mild querulousness. + +The dried little man straightened from the truck handles and regarded +Luck strangely. + +"My gorry, son, plumb hazed off'n this section the earth, I reckon. +Farmers and punchers, they don't mix no better'n sheep and cattle. Why, I +mind the time when--" + +The train was late, anyway, and the dried little man sat down on the +truck, and fumbled his cigarette book, and began to talk. Luck sat down +beside him and listened, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and +a cold cigarette in his fingers. It was not of this part of the country +that the dried little man talked, but of Montana, over there to the west. +Of northern Montana in the days when it was cowman's paradise; the days +when round-up wagons started out with the grass greening the hilltops, +and swung from the Rockies to the Bear Paws and beyond in the wide arc +that would cover their range; of the days of the Cross L and the Rocking +R and the Lazy Eight,--every one of them brand names to glisten the eyes +of old-time Montanans. + +"Where would you go to find them boys now?" the dried little man +questioned mournfully. "The Rocking R's gone into sheep, and the old boys +have all left. The Cross L moved up into Canada, Lord knows how they're +making out; I don't. Only outfit in northern Montana I know that has hung +together at all is the Flying U. Old man Whitmore, he's hangin' on by his +eyewinkers to what little range he can, and is going in for +thoroughbreds. Most of his boys is with him yet, they tell me--" + +"What they doing? Still riding?" Luck let out a long breath and lighted +his cigarette. A little flare of hope had come into his eyes. + +"Riding--yes, what little there is to do. Ranching a little too, and +kicking about changed times, same as I'm doing. Last time I saw that +outfit they was riding, you bet!" The dried little man chuckled, "That +was in Great Falls, some time back. They was all in a contest, and +pulling down the money, too. I was talking to old man Whitmore all one +evening. He was telling me--" + +From away out yonder behind a hill came the throaty call of the coming +train. The dried little man jumped up, mumbled that it did beat all how +time went when yuh got to talking over old days, and hustled two trunks +out of the baggage room. Luck got his grip out of the office, settled +himself into his coat, and took a last, long pull at the cigarette stub +before he threw it away. It was not much of a clue that he had fallen +upon by chance, but Luck was not one to wait until he was slapped in the +face with a fact. He had intended swinging back through Arizona, where in +certain parts cattle still were wild enough to bunch up at sight of a man +afoot. His questioning of the dried little man had not been born of any +concrete purpose, but of the range man's plaint in the abstract. Still-- + +"Say, brother, what's the Flying U's home town?" he called after the +dried little man with his amiable, Southern drawl. + +"Huh? Dry Lake. Yuh taking this train?" + +"So long--taking it for a ways, yes." Luck hurried down to where a +kinky-haired porter stood apathetically beside the steps of his coach. +Dry Lake? He had never heard of the place, but he could find out from the +railroad map or the conductor. He swung his grip into the waiting hand of +the porter and went up the steps hurriedly. He meant to find out where +Dry Lake was, and whether this train would take him there. + + + + +CHAPTER TWO + +"WHERE THE CATTLE ROAMED IN THOUSANDS, A-MANY A HERD AND BRAND ..."--_Old +Range Song_. + + +If you are at all curious over the name to which Luck Lindsay answered +unhesitatingly,--his very acceptance of it proving his willingness to be +so identified,--I can easily explain. Some nicknames have their origin in +mystery; there was no mystery at all surrounding the name men had +bestowed upon Lucas Justin Lindsay. In the first place, his legal +cognomen being a mere pandering to the vanity of two grandfathers who had +no love for each other and so must both be mollified, never had appealed +to Luck or to any of his friends. Luck would have been grateful for any +nickname that would have wiped Lucas Justin from the minds of men. But +the real reason was a quirk in Luck's philosophy of life. Anything that +he greatly desired to see accomplished, he professed to leave to chance. +He would smile his smile, and lift his shoulders in the Spanish way he +had learned in Mexico and the Philippines, and say: "That's as luck will +have it. _Quien sabe_?" Then he would straightway go about bringing the +thing to pass by his own dogged efforts. Men fell into the habit of +calling him Luck, and they forgot that he had any other name; so there +you have it, straight and easily understandable. + +As luck would have it, then,--and no pun intended, please,--he found +himself en route to Dry Lake without any trouble at all; a mere matter of +one change of trains and very close connections, the conductor told him. +So Luck went out and found a chair on the observation platform, and gave +himself up to his cigar and to contemplation of the country they were +gliding through. What he would find at Dry Lake to make the stop worth +his while did not worry him; he left that to the future and to the god +Chance whom he professed to serve. He was doing his part; he was going +there to find out what the place held for him. If it held nothing but a +half dozen ex-cow-punchers hopelessly tamed and turned farmers, why, +there would probably be a train to carry him further in his quest. He +would drop down into Wyoming and Arizona and New Mexico,--just keep going +till he did find the men he wanted. That was Luck's way. + +The shadows grew long and spread over the land until the whole vast +country lay darkling under the coming night. Luck went in and ate his +dinner, and came back again to smoke and stare and dream. There was a +moon now that silvered the slopes and set wide expanses shimmering. + +Luck, always more or less a dreamer, began to people the plain with the +things that had been but were no more: with buffalo and with Indians who +camped on the trail of the big herds. He saw their villages, the tepees +smoke-grimed and painted with symbols, some of them, huddled upon a knoll +out there near the timber line. He heard the tom-toms and he saw the +rhythmic leaping and treading, the posing and gesturing of the braves who +danced in the firelight the tribal Buffalo Dance. + +After that he saw the coming of the cattle, driven up from the south by +wind-browned, saddle-weary cowboys who sang endless chanteys to pass the +time as they rode with their herds up the long trail. He saw the cattle +humped and drifting before the wind in the first blizzards of winter, +while gray wolves slunk watchfully here and there, their shaggy coats +ruffled by the biting wind. He saw them when came the chinook, a howling, +warm wind from out the southwest, cutting the snowbanks as with a knife +that turned to water what it touched, and laying bare the brown grass +beneath. He saw the riders go out with the wagons to gather the +lank-bodied, big-kneed calves and set upon them the searing mark of their +owner's iron. + +Urged by the spell of the dried little man's plaintive monologue, the old +range lived again for Luck, out there under the moon, while the train +carried him on and on through the night. + +What a picture it all would make--the story of those old days as they +had been lived by men now growing old and bent. With all the cheap, +stagy melodrama thrown to one side to make room for the march of that +bigger drama, an epic of the range land that would be at once history, +poetry, realism! + +Luck's cigar went out while he sat there and wove scene after scene of +that story which should breathe of the real range land as it once had +been. It could be done--that picture. Months it would take in the making, +for it would swing through summer and fall and winter and spring. With +the trail-herd going north that picture should open--the trail-herd +toiling over big, unpeopled plains, with the riders slouched in their +saddles, hat brims pulled low over eyes that ached with the glare of the +sun and the sweep of wind, their throats parched in the dust cloud flung +upward from the marching, cloven hoofs. Months it would take in the +making,--but sitting there with the green tail-lights switching through +cuts and around low hills and out over the level, Luck visioned it all, +scene by scene. Visioned the herd huddled together in the night while the +heavens were split with lightning, and the rain came down in +white-lighted streamers of water. Visioned the cattle humped in the snow, +tails to the biting wind, and the riders plodding with muffled heads bent +to the drive of the blizzard, the fine snow packing full the wrinkles in +their sourdough coats. + +It could be done. He, Luck Lindsay, could do it; in his heart he knew +that he could. In his heart he felt that all of these months--yes, and +years--of picture-making had been but a preparation for this great +picture of the range. All these one-reel pioneer pictures had been merely +the feeble efforts of an apprentice learning to handle the tools of his +craft, the mental gropings of his mind while waiting for this, his big +idea. His work with the Indians was the mere testing and trying of +certain photographic effects, certain camera limitations. He felt like an +athlete taught and trained and tempered and just stepping out now for the +big physical achievement of his life. + +He grew chilled as the night advanced, but he did not know that he was +cold. He was wondering, as a man always wonders in the face of an +intellectual birth, why this picture had not come to him before; why he +had gone on through these months and years of turning out reel upon reel +of Western pictures, with never once a glimmering of this great epic of +the range land; why he had clung to his Indians and his one-reel Indian +pictures with now and then a three-reel feature to give him the elation +of having achieved something; why he had left them feeling depressedly +that his best work was in the past; why he had looked upon real range-men +as a substitute only for those lean-bodied bucks and those fat, +stupid-eyed squaws and dirty papooses. + +With the spell of his vision deep upon his soul, Luck sat humiliated +before his blindness. The picture he saw as he stared out across the +moonlit plain was so clean-cut, so vivid, that he marvelled because he +had never seen it until this night. Perhaps, if the dried little man had +not talked of the old range-- + +Luck took a long breath and flung his cigar out over the platform rail. +The dried little man? Why, just as he stood he was a type! He was the Old +Man who owned this herd that should trail north and on through scene +after scene of the picture! No make-up needed there to stamp the sense of +reality upon the screen. Luck looked with the eye of his imagination and +saw the dried little man climbing, with a stiffness that could not hide +his accustomedness, into the saddle. He saw him ride out with his men, +scattering his riders for the round-up; the old cowman making sharper the +contrast of the younger men, fixing indelibly upon the consciousness of +those who watched that this same dried little man had grown old in the +saddle; fixing indelibly the fact that not in a day did the free ranging +of cattle grow to be one of the nation's great industries. + +Of a sudden Luck got up and stood swaying easily to the motion of the car +while he took a long, last look at the moon-bathed plain where had been +born his great, beautiful picture. He stretched his arms as does one who +has slept heavily, and went inside and down to the beginning of the +narrow aisle where were kept telegraph forms in their wooden-barred +niches in the wall. He went into the smoking compartment and wrote, with +a sureness that knew no crossed-out words, a night letter to the dried +little man who had sat on the baggage truck and talked of the range. And +this is what went speeding back presently to the dried little man who +slept in a cabin near the track and dreamed, perhaps, of following the +big herds: + + +Baggage man, +Sioux, N.D. + +Report at once to me at Dry Lake. Can offer you good position Acme Film +Company, good salary working in big Western picture. Small part, some +riding among real boys who know range life. Want you bad as type of +cowman owning cattle in picture. Salary and expenses begin when you show +up. For references see Indian Agent. + +LUCK LINDSAY, +Dry Lake, Mont. + + +If you count, you will see that he ran eight words over the limit of the +flat rate on night letters, but he would have over-run the limit by +eighty words just as quickly if he had wanted to say so much. That was +Luck's way. Be it a telegram, instructions to his company, or a quarrel +with some one who crossed him, Luck said what he wanted to say--and paid +the price without blinking. + +I don't know what the dried little man thought when the operator +handed him that message the next morning; but I can tell you in a few +words what he did: He arrived in Dry Lake just two trains behind Luck. + +Luck did not sleep that night. He lay in his berth with the shade pushed +up as high as it would go, and stared out at the tamed plain, and +perfected the details of his Big Picture. Into the spell of the range he +wove a story of human love and human hate and danger and trouble. So it +must be, to carry his message to the world who would look and marvel at +what he would show them in the drama of silence. He had not named his +picture yet. The name would come in its own good time, just as the +picture had come when the time for its making was ripe. + +The next day he did not talk with the men whose elbows he touched in the +passing intimacy of travel; though Luck was a companionable soul who was +much given to talking and to seeing his listeners grow to an +audience,--an appreciative audience that laughed much while they listened +and frowned upon interruption. Instead, he sat silent in his seat, since +on this train there was no observation car, and he stared out of the +window without seeing much of what passed before his eyes, and made notes +now and then, and covered all the margins of his time-table with figures +that had to do with film. Once, I know, he blackened his two front teeth +with pencil tappings while he visualized a stampede and the probable +amount of footage it would require, and debated whether it should be +"shot" with two cameras or three to get scenes from different angles. A +stampede it should be,--a real stampede of fear-frenzied range cattle in +the mad flight of terror; not a bunch of galloping tame cows urged to +foreground by shouting and rock-throwing from beyond the side lines of +the scene. It would be hard to get, and it could not be rehearsed before +the camera was turned on it. Luck decided that it should be shot from +three angles, at least, and if he could manage it he would have a +"panoram" of the whole thing from a height. + +The porter came apologetically with his big whisk broom and told Luck +that they would all presently be gazing at Dry Lake, or words which +carried that meaning. So Luck permitted himself to be whisked from a half +dollar while his thoughts were "in the field" with his camera men and +company, shooting a real stampede from various angles and trying to +manage so that the dust should not obscure the scene. After a rain--of +course! Just after a soaking rain, he thought, while he gathered up his +time-table and a magazine that held his precious figures, and followed +the porter out to the vestibule while the train slowed. + +It was in this mood that Luck descended to the Dry Lake depot platform +and looked about him. He had no high expectation of finding here what he +sought. He was simply making sure, before he left the country behind him, +that he had not "overlooked any bets." His mind was open to conviction +even while it was prepared against disappointment; therefore his eyes +were as clear of any prejudice as they were of any glamour. He saw things +as they were. + +On the side track, then, stood a string of cars loaded with wool, as his +nose told him promptly. Farms there were none, but that was because the +soil was yellow and pebbly and barren where it showed in great bald spots +here and there; you would not expect to raise cabbages where a prairie +dog had to forage far for a living. Behind the depot, the prairie humped +a huge, broad shoulder of bluff wrinkled along the forward slope of it +like the folds of a full fashioned skirt. There, too, the soil was +bare,--clipped to the very grass roots by hundreds upon hundreds of +hungry sheep whose wool, very likely, was crowding those cars upon the +siding. Luck wasted neither glances nor thought upon the scene. Dry Lake +was like many, many other outworn "cow towns" through which he had +passed; changed without being bettered; all of the old life taken out of +it in the process of its taming. + +He threw his grip into the waiting, three-seated spring wagon that served +as a hotel bus, climbed briskly after it, and glanced ahead to where he +saw the age-blackened boards of the stockyards. Cattle--and then came the +sheep. So runs the epitaph of the range, and it was written plainly +across Dry Lake and its surroundings. + +They went up a dusty trail and past the yawning wings of the stockyards +where a bunch of sheep blatted now in the thirst of mid-afternoon. They +stopped before the hotel where, in the old days, many a town-hungry +puncher had set his horse upon its haunches that he might dismount in a +style to match his eagerness. Luck climbed out and stood for a minute +looking up and down the sandy street that slept in the sun and dreamed, +it may be, of rich, unforgotten moments when the cow-punchers had come +in off the range and stirred the sluggish town to a full, brief life +with their rollicking. Across the street was Rusty Brown's place, with +its narrow porch deserted of loafers and its windows blinking at the +street with a blankness that belied the things they had looked upon in +bygone times. + +A less experienced man than Luck would have been convinced by now that +here was no place to go seeking "real boys." But Luck had been a range +man himself before he took to making motion pictures; he knew range towns +as he knew men,--which was very well indeed. He looked, as he stood +there, not disgusted but mildly speculative. Two horses were tied to the +hitching rail before Rusty Brown's place. These horses bore saddles and +bridles, and, if you know the earmarks, you can learn a good deal about a +rider just by looking at his outfit. Neither saddle was new, but both +gave evidence of a master's pride in his gear. They were well-preserved +saddles. They had the conservative swell of fork that told Luck almost to +a year how old they were. One, he judged, was of California make, or at +least came from the extreme southwest of the cattle country. It had a +good deal of silver on it, and the tapideros were almost Mexican in their +elaborateness. The bridle on that horse matched the saddle, and the +headstall was beautiful with silver kept white and clean. The rope coiled +and tied beside the saddle fork was of rawhide. (Luck did not need to +cross the street to be sure of these details; observation was a part of +his profession.) The other saddle was the kind most favored on the +northern range. Short, round skirts, open stirrups, narrow and rimmed +with iron. Stamped with a two-inch border of wild rose design, it pleased +Luck by its very simplicity. The rope was a good "grass" rope worn smooth +and hard with much use. + +Luck flipped a match stub out into the dust of the street, tilted his +small Stetson at an angle over his eyes, went over to the horses, and +looked at their brands which had been hidden from him. One was a Flying +U, and the other bore a blurred monogram which he did not trouble to +decipher. He turned on his heels and went into Rusty's place. + +On his way to the bar he cast an appraising glance around the room and +located his men. Here, too, a less experienced man might have +blundered. One, known to his fellows as the Native Son, would scarcely +be mistaken; his dress, too, evidently matched the silver-trimmed +saddle outside. But Andy Green, in blue overalls turned up five inches +at the bottom, and somewhat battered gray hat and gray chambray shirt, +might have been almost any type of outdoor man. Certain it is that few +strangers would have guessed that he was one of the best riders in that +part of the State. + +Luck bought a couple of good cigars, threw away his cigarette and lighted +one, set the knuckles of his left hand upon his hip, and sauntered over +to the pool table where the two men he wanted to meet were languidly +playing out their third string. He watched them for a few minutes, smiled +sympathetically when Andy Green made a scratch and swore over it, and +backed out of the way of the Native Son, who sprawled himself over the +table corner and did not seem to know or to care how far the end of his +cue reached behind him. + +Luck did not say a word to either; but Andy, noting the smile of +sympathy, gave him a keenly attentive glance as he came up to that end of +the table to empty a corner pocket. He fished out the four and the nine, +juggled them absently in his hand, and turned and looked at Luck again, +straight and close. Luck once more smiled his smile. + +"No, I don't believe you know me, brother," he said, answering Andy's +unspoken thought. "I'd have remembered you if I'd ever met you. You may +have seen me in a picture somewhere." + +"By gracious, are you the little fellow that drove a stage coach and six +horses down off a grade--" + +"That's my number, old-timer." Luck's smile widened to a grin. That had +been a hair-lifting scene, and Andy Green was not the first stranger to +walk up and ask him if he had driven that stage coach and six horses down +off a mountain grade into a wide gulch to avoid being held up and the +regulation box of gold stolen. It was probably the most spectacular thing +Luck had ever done. "Got down that bank fine as silk," he volunteered +companionably, "and then when I'd passed camera and was outa the scene, +by thunder, I tangled up with a deep chuck-hole that was grown over with +weeds, and like to have broken my fool neck. How's that for luck?" He +took the cigar from his lips and smiled again with half-closed, measuring +eyes. "Yes, sir, I just plumb spoiled one perfectly good Concord coach, +and would have been playing leading corpse at a funeral, believe me, if I +hadn't strapped myself to the seat for that drive off the grade. As it +was, I hung head down and cussed till one of the boys cut me loose. Where +did you see the picture?" + +"Me? Up in the Falls. Say, I'm glad to meet you. Luck Lindsay's your +name, ain't it? I remember you were called that in the picture. Mine's +Green, Andy Green,--when folks don't call me something worse. And this is +Miguel Rapponi, a whole lot whiter than he sounds. What, for Lordy sake, +you wasting time on this little old hasbeen burg for? Take it from me, +there ain't anything left here but dents in the road and a brimstone +smell. We're all plumb halter-broke and so tame we--" + +"You look all right to me, brother," Luck told him in that convincing +tone he had. + +"Well, same to you," Andy retorted with a frank heartiness he was not in +the habit of bestowing upon strangers. "I feel as if I'd worked with you. +Pink was with me when we saw that picture, and we both hollered 'Go to +it!' right out loud, when you gathered up the ribbons and yanked off the +brake and went off hell-popping and smiling back over your shoulder at +us. It was your size and that smile of yours that made me remember you. +You looked like a kid when you mounted to the boot; and you drove down +off smiling, and you had one helanall of a trip, and you drove off that +grade looking like you was trying to commit suicide and was smiling still +when you pulled up at the post-office. By gracious, I--" + +Luck gave a little chuckle deep in his throat. "I did all that smiling +the day before I drove off the grade," he confessed, looking from one +to the other. "I don't guess I'd have smiled quite so sweet, maybe, if +I'd waited." + +"Is that the way you make moving pictures, hind-side-foremost?" Andy, his +back to the table, lifted himself over the rim to a comfortable seat and +began to make himself a cigarette. + +"Yes, or both ways from the middle, just as it happens." Luck was always +ready to talk pictures. "In that stage-driver picture I made all the +scenes before I made that drive,--for two reasons. Biggest one was that I +wanted to be sure of having it all made, in case something went wrong on +that feature drive; get me? Other was plain, human bullheadedness. Some +of the four-flushers I was cursed with in the company,--because they were +cheap and I had to balance up what I was paying the Injuns,--they kept +eyeing that bluff where I said I'd come down with the coach, and betting +I wouldn't, and talking off in corners about me just stalling. I just let +'em sweat. I made the start, and I made the finish. I drove right to +where I looked down off the pinnacle--remember?--and saw the outlaw gang +at the foot of the grade; I made all the 'dissolves,' and where I went +back and captured 'em and brought 'em in to camp. But I didn't drive off +the grade into the gulch till last thing, as luck would have it. Good +thing, too. That old coach was sure some busted, and I wasn't doing any +more smiles till I grew some hide." + +Andy Green licked his cigarette and let his honest gray eyes wander from +Luck to the darkly handsome face of the Native Son. "Sounds most as +exciting as holding down a homestead, anyway. Don't you think so, Mig? +And say! It's sure a pity we can't put off some things in real life till +we get all set and ready to handle 'em!" + +"That's right." Luck's face sobered as the idea caught his imagination. +"That's dead right; how well I know it!" + +Andy smoked and swung his feet and regarded Luck with interest. "It's +against my religious principles to go poking my nose into the other +fellow's business," he said after a minute, "but I'm wondering if there's +anything in this God-forsaken country to bring a fellow like you here +deliberate. I'm wondering if you meant to stop, or if you just leaned too +far out the car window on your way through town." + +For a half minute Luck looked up at him. He had expected a preparatory +winning of the confidence of the men whom he sought. He had planned to +lead up gradually to his mission, in case he found his men. But in that +half minute he threw aside his plan as a weak, puerile wasting of time, +and he answered Andy Green truthfully. + +"No, I didn't fall off the train," he drawled. "I just grabbed my grip +and beat it when they told me where I was. I'm out on a still hunt for +some real boys. Some that can ride and shoot and that know cow-science so +well they don't have to glad up in cowboy clothes and tie red bandanna +bibs on to make folks think they're range broke." + +"And yet you're wasting time in this tame little granger wart on the +map!" + +"No, not wasting time," smiled Luck serenely. "A little old trunk-juggler +up the trail told me about the Flying U outfit that is still sending +their wagons out when the grass gets green. I stopped off to give the +high-sign to the boys, and say howdy, and swap yarns, and maybe haze some +of 'em gently into camp. I wanted to see if the Flying U has got any real +ones left." + +Andy Green looked eloquently at the Native Son. "Now, what do you know +about that, Mig?" he breathed softly behind a mouthful of smoke. "Wanting +to rope him out a few from the Flying U bunch. Say! Have you got a real +puncher amongst that outfit of long-haired hayseeds?" + +The Native Son shook his head negligently and gave Luck a velvet-eyed +glance of friendly pity. + +"If there is, he's ranging deep in the breaks and never shows up at +shipping time," he averred. "I've never seen one myself. They've got one +that--what would you call Big Medicine, if you wanted to name him quick +and easy, Andy?" + +Andy frowned. "What I'd call him had best not be named in this +God-fearing little hamlet," he responded gloomily. "I sure would never +name him in the day I talked about cow-punchers that's ever dug sand outa +their eyes on trail-herd." + +The Native Son, still with the velvet-eyed look of pity, turned to Luck. +"Andy's right," he sighed. "They've got one that takes spells of talking +deliriously about when he punched cows in Coconino County; but I guess +there's nothing to it." + +"You say you was told that the Flying U outfit has got some real ones?" +Andy eyed Luck curiously and with some of the Native Son's pity. "Just in +a general way, what happens to folks that lie to you deliberate, when you +meet 'em again? I'd like," he added, "to know about how sorry to feel for +that baggage humper when you see him--after meeting the Flying U bunch." + +The soul of Luck Lindsay was singing an impromptu doxology, but the face +of him--so well was that face trained to do his bidding--became tinged +with disgust and disappointment. With two "real boys" he was talking; he +knew them by the unconscious range vernacular and the perfect candor with +which they lied to him about themselves. But not so much as a gleam of +the eye betrayed to them that he knew. + +"So that's why he went off grinning so wide," he mused aloud. "I was sure +caught then with my gun at home on the piano. I might have known better +than to look for the real thing here, though you fellows have a few +little marks that haven't worn off yet." + +"Me? Why, I'm a farmer, and I'm married, and I'm in a deuce of a stew +because my spuds is drying up on me and no way to get water on 'em +without I carry it to 'em in a jug," disclaimed Andy Green hastily. "All +I know about punchers I learned from seeing picture shows when I go to +town. Now, Mig, here--". + +"Oh, don't go and reveal all of my guilty past," protested the Native +Son. "Those three days I spent at a wild-west carnival show have about +worked outa my system. I'm still trying to wear out the clothes I won off +some of the boys in a crap game," he explained to Luck apologetically, +"but my earmarks won't outlast the clothes, believe me." + +Luck thoughtfully flicked the ash collar off his cigar. "It won't be any +use then to go out to the Flying U, I suppose," he observed tentatively, +his eyes keen for their changing expressions. "I may as well take the +next train out, I reckon, and drift on down into Arizona and New Mexico. +I know about where some real punchers range--but I thought there was no +harm in looking up the pedigree of this Flying U outfit. I'm sure some +obliged to you boys for heading me off." Back of his eyes there was a +laugh, but Andy Green and the Native Son were looking queerly at each +other and did not see it there. + +"Oh, well, now you're this close, you wouldn't be losing anything by +going on out to the ranch, anyway," Andy recanted guardedly. "Come to +think of it, there's one regular old-time ranger out there. They call him +Slim. He's sure a devil on a horse--Slim is. I'd forgot about him when I +spoke. He's a ranger, all right." + +Luck knew very well that Andy Green had used the word "ranger" with the +deliberate attempt to appear ignorant of the terminology of the range. A +cow-puncher comes a long way from being a ranger, as every one knows. A +ranger is a man of another profession entirely. + +"It used to be a real cattle ranch, they tell me," added the Native Son +artfully. "We live out near there, and if you wanted to ride out--" + +Luck appeared undecided. He sucked at his cigar, and he blew out the +smoke thoughtfully, and contemplated the toe of one neat, tan shoe. Just +plain acting, it was; just a playing of his part in the little game they +had started. Better than if they had boasted of their range knowledge and +their prowess in the saddle did Luck know that the dried little man had +told him the truth. He knew that at the Flying U he would find a remnant +of the old order of things. He would find some real boys, if these two +were a fair sample of the bunch. That they lied to him about themselves +and their fellows was but a sign that they accepted him as one of their +breed. He looked them over with gladdened eyes. He listened to the +unconscious tang of the range that was in their talk. These two farmers? +He could have laughed aloud at the idea. + +"Well, I might get some atmosphere ideas," he said at last. "If you don't +mind having me trail along--" + +"Glad to have yuh!" came an instant duet. + +"And if I can scare up a horse--" + +"Oh, we'll look after that. You can come right on out with us. The +boys'll be plumb tickled to death to meet you." + +"Are they all farmers, same as you--these boys you mention?" Luck looked +up into Andy's eyes when he asked the question. + +Andy grinned. "Farmers, yes--same as us!" he said ambiguously and picked +up his gloves as he turned to lead the way out. + + + + +CHAPTER THREE + +AND THEY SIGH FOR THE DAYS THAT ARE GONE + + +Just when Luck's new acquaintances first forgot to carry on their +whimsical pretense of knowing little of range matters, neither of them +could have told afterwards. They left town with the tacit understanding +between them that they were going to have some fun with the Happy Family +and with this likable little man of the movies. They rode out between +long lines of hated barbed wire stretched taut, and they lied +systematically and consistently to Luck Lindsay about themselves and +their fellows and their particular condition of servitude to fate. + +But somewhere along the trail they forgot to carry on the deception; and +only Luck could have told why they forgot, and when they forgot, and how +it was that, ten miles or so out from town, the two were telling how the +Flying U had fought to save itself from extinction; how the "bunch" had +schemed and worked and had in a measure succeeded in turning aside the +tide of immigration from the Flying U range. Big issues they talked of as +they rode three abreast through the warm haze of early fall; and as they +talked, Luck's mind visioned the tale vividly, and his eyes swept the +fence-checkered upland with a sympathetic understanding. + +"Right here," said Andy at last, when they came up to a gate set across +the trail, "right here is where we drawed the line--and held it. Now, +half of those shacks you see speckled around are empty. The rest hold +nesters too poor to get outa the country. One or two, that had a little +money, have stuck and gone into sheep. But from here on to Dry Creek +there's nothing ranging but the Flying U brand. Not much--compared to +what the old range used to be--but still it keeps things going. We +throwed a dam across the coulee, up there next the hills, and there's +some fair hay land we're putting water on. We have to winter-feed +practically everything these days. The range just nicely keeps the stock +from snow to snow. I've got pitchfork callouses on my hands I never will +outgrow if I was to fall heir to a billion dollars and never use my hands +again for fifty years except to feed myself. It takes work, believe me! +And if there's anything on earth a puncher hates worse than work, it's +some other kind of work. + +"At the Flying U," he went on, looking at Luck pensively, "you'll see the +effect of too many people moved into the range country. If there's +anything more distressing than a baby left without a mother, it's a bunch +of cow-punchers that's outlived their range. Ain't that right?" + +"Sure it's right!" Luck's sympathy was absolutely sincere. "How well I +know it! Barbed wire scraped me outa the saddle in Wyoming--barbed wire +and sheep. All there is left for a fellow is to forget it and start a +barber shop or a cigar stand, or else make pictures of the old days, the +way I've been doing. You can get a little fun out of making pictures of +what used to be your everyday life. You can step up on a horse and go +whoopin' over the hills and kinda forget it ain't true." A wistfulness +was in Luck's tone. "You pick out the big minutes from the old days--that +had a whole lot of dust and sun and thirst and hunger in between, when +all's said--you pick out the big minutes, and you bring them to life +again, and sort of push them up close together and leave out most of the +hardships. That's why so many of the old boys drift into pictures, I +reckon. They try to forget themselves in the big minutes." + +The two who rode with him were silent for a space. Then the Native +Son spoke drily: "About the biggest minutes we get now come about +meal times." + +"Oh, we can get down in the breaks on round-up time and kinda forget the +world's fenced clear 'way round it with barb-wire," Andy bettered the +statement. "But round-up gets shorter every year." + +"My next picture," Luck observed artfully and yet with a genuine desire +to unbosom himself a little to these two who would understand, "my next +picture is going to be different. It's going to have a crackajack story +in it, of course, but it will have something more than a story. I'm going +to start it off with a trail herd coming up from Texas. You know--like it +was when we were kids. I'm going to show those cattle trailing along +tired--and footsore, some of them--and a drag strung out behind for a +mile. I'm going to show the punchers tired and hungry, and riding half +asleep in the saddle. And with that for a starter, I'm going to show the +real range; the _real_ range--get that, boys? I'm going to cut clean away +from regulation moving-picture West; clear out away from posses chasing +outlaws all over a ten-acre location. I'm going to find me a real old +cow-ranch; or if I can't find one, by thunder I'm going to _make_ me one. +I'm sick of piling into a machine and driving out into Griffith Park and +hunting a location for shooting scrapes to take place in. I know a place +where I could produce stuff that would make people talk about it for a +month after. Maybe the buildings would need some doctoring, but there's +sure some round-pole corrals that would make your mouth water." + +"We used to have some," sighed Andy, "at the Flying U. But they kinda +went to pieces, and Chip's been replacing them with plank. By gracious, +you don't see many round-pole corrals any more, come to think of it. +There's remains, scattered around over the country." + +"The West--the real honest-to-goodness, twelve-months-in-the-year West," +Luck went on riding his hobby, "has been mighty little used in films. +Ever notice that? It's all gone to shooting, and stealing the full +product of all the gold mines in the world, and killing off more bad men +than the Lord ever sent a flood to punish. For film purposes, the West +consists of one part beautiful maiden in distress, three parts bandit, +and two parts hero. Mix these to taste with plenty of swift action and +gun-smoke, and serve with bandits all dead or handcuffed and beautiful +maiden and hero in lover's embrace on top. That's your film West, +boys--and how well I know it!" Luck stopped to light a cigarette and to +heave a sigh. "I've been building film West to order for four years now, +and more. Only fun I've had, and the best work I've done, I did with a +bunch of Indians I've just taken back to their reservation. For the rest, +it's mostly bunk." + +"Not that stage-driver picture," Andy dissented. "There wasn't any bunk +about that, old-timer. That was some driving!" + +"Some driving, yes. Sure, it was. It was darned good driving, but the +same old story doctored up a little. Same old shipment of gold, same old +bandits lying in wait, same old hero doing stunts. I ought to know," he +added with a grin. "I wrote the story and did the stunts myself." + +"Well, they were some stunts!" admired Andy with unusual sincerity. + +Luck waved aside the compliment and went back to his hobby. "Yes, but the +West isn't just a setting for stunts. I've got my story--here," and he +tapped his forehead, which was broad and full and not too high. "I'm +going to fire my camera man and get a better one, and I'm going to round +me up a bunch of real boys that can get into the story and live it so +well they won't need to do any acting,--boys that can stand a panoram on +their work in the saddle. I've been getting by with a bunch of freaks +that think they're real riders if they can lope a horse up-grade without +falling off backwards. Most of my direction of those actorines has been +knowing to a hair how much footage to give 'em without showing how raw +their work is. + +"They say the public demands a certain grade of rottenness in Western +films, but I never believed that, down deep in my heart. I believe the +public stands for that stuff because they don't see any better. This +four-reeler I've got in mind will sure open the eyes of some +producers--or I'll buy me a five-acre tract in Burbank and raise string +beans for a living." + +"I've got a patch of string beans," sighed the Native Son, "that I've +been sitting up nights with. I don't know what ails the cussed things. +Some kind of little green bug chews on them soon as my back is turned. +They ought to be ripe by now--and they aren't through blossoming. Don't +go into beans, _amigo_." + +Luck looked at him and laughed. The Native Son, in black and white Angora +chaps and cream-colored shirt and silver-filigreed hatband as ornamental +touches to his attire, did not look like a man who was greatly worried +over his crop of string beans while he rode with a negligent grace away +from a glowing sunset. But in these days the West is full of +incongruities. + +"Oh, shut up about them beans!" implored Andy Green with a bored air. +"It's water they want; and a touch of the hoe now and then. You leave 'em +for a month at a time and then go back and wonder why you can't pick a +hatful off 'em. Same as the rest of us have been ranching," he added +ruefully, turning to Luck. "With the best intentions in the world, the +Lord never meant us fellers for farmers, and that's a fact. We'll drop a +hoe any time of day or night to get out riding after stock. Of course, we +didn't take up our claims with the idea of settling down and riding a hoe +handle the rest of our lives. If we had, I guess maybe we'd have done a +little better at it." + +"We did what we started out to do," the Native Son pointed out lazily: +"We saved the range--what little there is to save--and we kept a lot of +poor yaps from starving to death on that land, didn't we?" He smiled +slowly. "If I hadn't gotten gay and planted those beans," he added, "I'd +be feeling fine over it. A girl gave me a handful of pinto beans and +asked me to plant them--I did hoe them," he defended tardily to Andy. "I +hoed them the day before the Fourth. You know I did. Same time you hoed +those lemon-colored spuds of yours." + +Luck let them wrangle humorously over their agricultural deficiencies, +and drifted off into open-eyed dreaming. Into his picture he began to fit +these two speculatively, with a purely tentative adjustment of their +personalities to his requirements. They were arguing about which of the +two was the worst farmer; but Luck, riding alongside them, was seeing +them slouched in their saddles and riding, bone-tired, with a shuffling +trail-herd hurrying to the next watering place. He was seeing them +galloping hard on the flanks of a storm-lashed stampede, with cunningly +placed radium flares lighting the scene brilliantly now and then. He was +seeing these two plodding, heads bent, into the teeth of a blizzard. He +was seeing... + +"I'll have to ride home to the missus now," Andy announced the second +time before Luck heard him. + +"Mig will take you on down to the home ranch, and after supper I'll ride +over. So long." + +He swung away from them upon a faintly beaten trail, looked back once to +grin and wave his hand, and touched his horse with the spurs. Luck stared +after him thoughtfully, but he did not put his thoughts into words. He +had been trained in the hard school of pictures. He had learned to hold +his tongue upon certain matters, such as his opinion of a man's personal +attributes, or criticism of his appearance, or anything which might be +repeated, maliciously or otherwise, to that man. He did not say to Miguel +Rapponi, for instance, what he thought of Andy Green as a man or a rider. +He did not mention him at all. He had learned in bitterness how idle +gossip may eat away the efficiency of a whole company. + +For that reason, and also because his mind was busy with his plans and +the best means of carrying them out, the two rode almost in silence to +the hill that shut the Flying U coulee away from the world. Luck gave a +long sigh and muttered "Great!" when the whole coulee lay spread before +them. Then his quick glances took in various details of the ranch and he +sighed again, from a different emotion. + +"It must have been a great place twenty years ago," he amended his first +unqualified enthusiasm. + +"Why twenty years ago?" The Native Son gave him a quick, +half-resentful glance. + +"Twenty years ago there wasn't so much barb-wire trimming," Luck +explained from the viewpoint of the trained producer of Western pictures. +"You couldn't place a camera anywhere now for a long shot across the +coulee without bringing a fence into the scene. And the log stables are +too old, and the new ones too new." He pulled up and stared long at the +sweep of hills beyond, and the wide spread of the meadow and the big +field farther up stream, and at the lazy meandering of Flying U creek +with its willow fringe just turning yellow with the first touch of +autumn. He looked at the buildings sprawled out below him. + +"When that log house was headquarters for the ranch, and the round-pole +corrals were the only fences on the place," he said; "when those old +sheds held the saddle horses on cold nights, and the wagons were out from +green grass to snowfall, and the boys laid around all winter, just +reportin' regular at grub-pile and catching up on sleep they'd lost in +the summer--Lor-dee, what a place it must have been!" + +There was something in his tone that brought the Native Son for an +instant face to face with the Flying U in the old days when all the range +was free. So, with faces sober, because the old days were gone and would +never any more return, they rode down the grade and up to the new stable +that was a monument to the dead past, even though it might also be a +sign-post pointing to present prosperity. And in this wise came Luck +Lindsay to the Flying U and was made welcome. + + + + +CHAPTER FOUR + +THE LITTLE DOCTOR PROTESTS + + +The Little Doctor stepped out upon the porch with the faint tracing of a +frown upon her smooth forehead, and with that slight tightening of the +lips which to her family meant determination; disapproval sometimes, +tense moments always. + +She stood for a minute looking down toward the stables, and the wind that +blew down the coulee seized upon the scant folds of her skirt, and +flapped them impishly against the silken-clad ankles that were +exceedingly good to look upon,--since fashion has now made it quite +permissible to look upon ankles. Her lips did not relax with the waiting. +Her frown grew a trifle more pronounced. + +"Mr. Lindsay?" with a rising inflection. + +Luck turned his head, saw her standing there, waved his hand to show that +he heard, and started toward her with that brisk, purposeful swing to his +walk that goes with an energetic disposition. The Little Doctor waited, +and watched him, and did not relax a muscle from her determined attitude. +Poor little Luck Lindsay hurried, so as not to keep her standing there in +the wind, and, not knowing just what was before him, he smiled his smile +as he came up to her. + +I should have said, poor Little Doctor. She tried to keep her frown and +the fixed idea that went with it, but she was foolish enough to look down +into Luck's face and into his eyes with their sunny friendliness, and at +the smile, where the friendliness was repeated and emphasized. Before she +quite knew what she was doing, the Little Doctor smiled back. Still, she +owned a fine quality of firmness. + +"Come in here. I want to have it out with you, and be done," she said, +and turned to open the door. + +"Sounds bad, but I'm yours to command," Luck retorted cheerfully, and +went up the steps still smiling. He liked the Little Doctor. She was his +kind of woman. He felt that she would make a good pal, and he knew how +few women are qualified for open comradeship. He cast a side glance at +the kitchen window where the Kid stood with a large slice of bread and +chokecherry jam balanced on his palm, and on his face a look of mental +distress bordered with more jam. Luck nodded and waved his hand, and went +in where the Little Doctor stood waiting for him with a certain ominous +quiet in her manner. Luck shook back his heavy mane of hair that was +graying prematurely, squared his shoulders, and then held out his hand +meekly, palm upward. Boys learn that pose in school, you know. + +"Oh, for pity's sake! If you go and make me laugh--and I am mad enough at +you, Luck Lindsay, to--to blister that palm! If you weren't any bigger +than Claude, I'd shake you and stand you in a corner on one foot." + +"Listen. Shake me, anyway. I believe I'd kinda like it. And while I'm +standing in the corner--on one foot--you can tell me all you're mad +at me for." + +The Little Doctor looked at him, bit her lip, and then found that her +eyes were blurred so that his face seemed to waver and grow dim. And Luck +Lindsay, because he saw the tears, laid a hand on her shoulder, and +pushed her ever so gently into a chair. + +"Tell me what's worrying you. If it's anything that I have done, I'll +have one of the boys take me out and shoot me; it's what I would deserve. +But I certainly can't think of anything--" + +"Do you know that you have filled little Claude's mind up with stories +about moving pictures till he's just crazy? He told me just now that he's +going with you when you go back, and act in your company. And if I won't +let him go, he said, he'd run away and 'hit a freight-train outa Dry +Lake,' and get to California, anyway. And--he'd do it, too! He's +perfectly awful when he gets an idea in his head. I know he's +spoiled--all the boys pet him so--" + +"Wait. Let's get this thing straight. Do you think for one minute, Mrs. +Bennett, that I'd coax the Kid away? Say, that hurts--to have you believe +that of me." There was no smile anywhere on Luck's face now. His eyes +were as pained as his voice sounded. + +Once more the Little Doctor weakened before him. She believed what he +said, though five minutes before she had believed exactly the opposite. +In her mind she had accused him of coaxing the Kid. She had fully +intended accusing him of it to his face. + +"I don't mean coax, perhaps. But--" + +"Listen. If the Kid has got that notion, I'm more sorry than you can +guess. Of course, I think pictures and I talk pictures; I admit I make +them in my sleep. And the boys are interested. Those that are going back +with me and those that are not are always sicking me at the subject. I +admit that I sick easy," he added with a whimsical lightening of the +eyes. "And the Kid and I are pals. I like him, Mrs. Bennett. He's got the +stuff in him to make a real man--and I wouldn't call him spoiled, +exactly. He's always been with grown-ups, and his mind has developed away +ahead of the calendar; you see what I mean? He's nine, he tells me--" + +"Only eight. He always tries to make himself older than he is," the +Little Doctor corrected quickly. + +"Well, he's some boy! And kids somehow take to me; I guess it's because +I'm always chumming with them. He's been taking in everything that has +been said; I could see that. But I surely never talked to him in the way +you mean." + +The Little Doctor looked at him and hesitated; but she was a frank young +woman, and she could not help speaking her mind. "You mustn't take it +personally at all," she said, "if I tell you that I am disappointed in +the boys; in Andy and Rosemary especially, because they ought to +appreciate the little home they have made, and stay with it. One sort of +expects Pink and Big Medicine and Weary to do outlandish things. They +haven't really grown up, and they never will. But I am disappointed, just +the same, that they should want to go performing around and shooting +blank cartridges and making clowns of themselves for moving pictures. +Still, that's their own business, of course, if they want to be silly +enough to do it. But now little Claude has taken the fever--and I wish, +Mr. Lindsay, you could do something to--" She stopped, but not because +what she said was hurting Luck's feelings. She did not know that she hurt +him at all. + +"It seems to be worse, in your estimation, than exposing the Kid to +yellow fever," Luck observed quietly. + +"Well, of course you can understand that I should not want a boy of +mine to--to be all taken up with the idea of acting cowboy parts for a +moving picture." + +"Still, there are some fairly decent people in the business," Luck +pointed out still more quietly, and got upon his feet. He had no smile +now for the Little Doctor, though he was still gentle in his manner. "I +see what you mean, Mrs. Bennett. I understand you perfectly. I shall do +what I can to repair the damage to the Kid's character and ideals, and I +want to thank you for coming to me in this matter. Otherwise I might have +gone against your wishes without knowing that I was doing so." For two +breaths or three he held her glance with something that looked out of his +eyes; the Little Doctor did not know what it was. "You see, Mrs. Bennett, +you don't quite understand what you are talking about," he added. "You +have not had the opportunity to understand, of course. But I agree with +you that the Kid's place is at home, and I shall certainly have a talk +with him." + +He moved to the door, laid a fine, well-kept hand upon the knob, and +looked at her with a faint smile that had behind it a good deal that +puzzled the Little Doctor. "Don't worry one minute," he said, dropping +his punctilious politeness of the minute before, and becoming again the +intensely human Luck Lindsay. "I 'heap sabe.' I've certainly corrupted +the morals and ambitions of some of the boys--looking at it the way you +do--but I promise to check the devastation right where it's at, and save +your only son." He turned then and went out. + +The Little Doctor paid him the tribute of hurrying to the window where +she could watch him go down the path. In his walk, in the set of his +head, there was still something that puzzled her. She hoped that he was +not offended, and she thankfully remembered a good deal that she had left +unsaid. She saw him turn and beckon, and then wait until the Kid had +joined him from the kitchen. She saw the greeting he gave the Kid, and +the adoration on the Kid's face when he looked up at Luck. The two went +away together, and the Little Doctor watched them dubiously. What if the +Kid should run away? He had done it once, and it was well within the +probabilities that he might do it again, if this present obsession of his +were not handled just right. The Kid, she had long ago discovered, could +not be driven,--and there were times when he could not be coaxed. + +Luck had been just three days at the Flying U. In those three days he had +fitted himself into the place so well that even old Patsy, the cook, +called him "Look" as easily as though he had been doing it for years; and +Patsy, you must know, was fast acquiring the querulousness of an old age +that does not sweeten with the passing years. Patsy had discovered that +Luck liked his eggs fried on both sides, and thereafter he painstakingly +turned three eggs bottomside up in the frying pan every morning; three +and no more, though Cal Emmett remarked pointedly that he had always +liked his eggs fried and flopped. + +Three days, and the Old Man frequently left his big, soft-cushioned +chair, and went slowly down to the bunk-house whence came much laughter, +and listened to the stories that Luck told so well,--with one arm around +the unashamed Kid, very likely, while he talked. + +True, they had ranches of their own, those boys of the Flying U. But if +you wanted to find them in a hurry, it were wise to ride first into +Flying U coulee. That was headquarters, and that was home and always +would be; even Andy Green, who was happily married, brought his wife and +stayed there days at a time, with small excuse for the coming. + +In three days, then, Luck had chosen his men from among the Happy Family, +and had convinced them that their future welfare and happiness depended +upon their going back with him to Los Angeles. In three days he had +accomplished a good deal; but then, Luck was in the habit of crowding his +days with achievement of one sort or another. As a matter of fact, the +third day he had looked upon as one given solely to the pleasure of +staying at the Flying U while the boys completed their arrangements for +leaving with him. He had done all that he had planned to do, and he was +in a very good humor with the world, or he had been until the Little +Doctor had made his pride writhe under her innocent belittlement of his +vocation. To have her boy work in pictures would be a calamity in her +eyes; in Luck's eyes it would be an honor, provided he did the right kind +of work in the right kind of pictures. + +Luck's own personal opinion, however, did not weigh in this case. He had +promised the Little Doctor that he would erase the impression he had made +upon the Kid's too vivid imagination; so he led him to a retired place +where they would be sheltered from the wind by a great stack of alfalfa +hay, and he began in this wise: + +"Old-timer, you're the luckiest boy I've seen in all my travels,--growing +up here on the Flying U, with a mother like you've got, and a dad like +Chip, and a ranch like this to get the swing of while you're growing; so +that in another five years I expect you'll be running it yourself, and +your folks will be larking around having the good time they've earned +while they were raising you. I'll bet--" + +"So Doctor Dell went and got around you, did she? I knew that was why she +called you into the sett'n room. Forget it, Luck." The Kid spat manfully +into the trodden hay, and pushed his small-size Stetson back so that his +curls showed, and set his feet as far apart as was comfortable. "I knew +she would," he added with weary wisdom in his tone. "Doctor Dell can get +around anybody when she takes a notion." + +Luck held his face from smiling. He looked surprised, and disappointed in +the Kid, and sorry for the Kid's parents. At least, he made the Kid feel +that he was thinking all these things, which proves how well one may +master the art of facial expression. He did not say a word; therefore he +put the Kid upon the defensive and set his young wits to devising +arguments in his favor. + +"A woman never knows when a fellow begins to grow up. Doctor Dell is the +nicest girl in the world, but she needn't think I'm a baby yet. I can +ride a buckin' horse, and I went on round-up last spring--and made a +hand, too! I can swing a rope as good as any of the bunch; you seen me +whirl a loop and jump through it, and there's more stunts than that I +can do--it was dinner time, so I had to quit before I showed you." The +Kid paused. He had not yet produced any effect whatever upon that +surprised, pitying, disappointed look in Luck's face, and the Kid began +to feel worried. + +"Well, I was just bluffing when I said I'd run away--if she told you +that." He stopped; the look was still there, only it now seemed to have +contempt added to it. "I don't say I know more'n anybody on the ranch, +and I don't say I'm boss of the ranch yet. I do what they tell me, even +when I know there ain't any sense in it. I humor Doctor Dell a whole +lot!" Could he never get that look off Luck's face? The Kid searched his +soul anxiously. You couldn't go on arguing with that kind of a look; it +made you feel like you'd been stealing sheep. "Oh, well, if you won't +talk to a feller--" The Kid did not turn away quite soon enough to hide +the quiver of his lips. Luck reached out and took a small, grimy hand +and pulled the Kid nearer; near enough so that his arm could go around +the Kid's quivering body. He held him close, and the Kid did not +struggle. He dropped his face against Luck's shoulder, and began to +fight back his tears. + +"Listen, pardner," said Luck softly, one hand caressing the Kid's cheek. +"You and I ought to sabe each other better than most folks, because we're +pals. Now, I want you to go with me a heap more than you want to go; just +tuck that away in your mind where you won't lose it. I want you, but I +wouldn't have you without Doctor Dell's free and willing consent. I need +you for my pal; and I could teach you a lot that would be useful to you. +But they need you a whole lot worse than I do. They've been taking care +of you and loving you and planning for you all these eight years, just +watching you grow, and being proud of you because you're what they want +you to be: husky and healthy and good all the way through. You couldn't +go off and leave them now; it wouldn't be right. And, pard, you need them +even worse than they need you. I know,--because I had to grow up without +any one to love me and look after me; and believe me, old pal, it isn't +any cinch. It's just pure luck that I didn't get killed off or go bad. +Now, I'd be good to you, if I had you with me, and so would the boys; but +we couldn't take the place of Doctor Dell and Daddy Chip. + +"I've talked pictures too much to you. I didn't know how it was hitting +you, or how much you wanted to go. But listen. If I had the chance you've +got here,--if I had a ranch like this, and cattle, and horses, and a +father and mother and uncle like you've got,--I never would look a camera +in the eye again as long as I live. That's straight, old-timer. Why, I'm +working my head off trying to get enough ahead so that I can have a ranch +of my own! So I can slap a saddle on a horse that carries my brand, and +ride out after my cattle, and haze them into my corral; so I can have a +home that is mine. I never did have one, pardner,--not since I was a heap +smaller than you are now,--and a home of his own is what every man wants +most, down deep in his heart. + +"It looks fine to be traveling around, and making moving pictures. It is +fine if you are cut out for that kind of work, and have got to be working +for somebody else to get your start. But remember, pard, I am working and +scheming and planning to get just what you've got already. You, a kid +eight years old, stand right where I'd give all I've got to stand. You'll +own your own ranch and your own home. You've got folks that love you--not +because you hand out the pay envelope on a certain day of the week, but +because you belong to them, and they belong to you. Kid, I'm thirty-two +years old--and I've never known what that felt like. I have never known +what it was like to have some one plan for me and with me, unless they +were paid for it." + +The Kid stood very still. "You could live here," he lifted his head to +say gravely after a little silence that was full of thought. "This can be +your home. You can be one of the Happy Family. We'd like to have you." + +There was something queer in Luck's voice when he murmured a reply. There +was something in his face which no one but the Kid had ever seen. The +Kid's arm crept around Luck's neck, and tightened there and stayed. +Luck's hand went up to the curls and hovered there caressingly. And they +talked, in tones lowered to the cadence of deep-hidden hopes and longings +revealed in sacred confidence. + +The Little Doctor, shamelessly eavesdropping because she was a mother +fighting for her fledgling, tiptoed away from the corner of the stack, +and went back to the house, wiping her eyes frequently with the corner of +her handkerchief that was not embroidered. She went into her room and +stayed there a long while, and before she came out she had recourse to +rosewater and talcum and other first aids to swollen eyelids. + +Whatever she may have thought, whatever she may have overheard beyond +what has been recorded, her manner toward Luck was so unobtrusively +tender that Chip looked at her once or twice with a puzzled, husbandly +frown. Also, the Kid felt something special in his Doctor Dell's +good-night kiss; something he did not understand at all, since he had not +yet told her that he was going to be a good boy and stay at home and take +care of her and the ranch. + + + + +CHAPTER FIVE + +A BUNCH OF ONE-REELERS FROM BENTLY BROWN + + +The Manager of the Acme Film Company cleared his throat with a rasping +noise that sounded very loud, coming as it did after fifteen minutes of +complete silence. Luck, smoking a cigarette absent-mindedly by the window +while he stared out across two vacant lots to a tawdry apartment +house,--and saw a sage-covered plain instead of what was before his +eyes,--started from his daydream and glanced at Martinson inquiringly. +"Well, what do you think of it?" he asked. + +Martinson cleared his throat again, and shuffled the typed sheets in his +hands. "Seems to lack action, don't it?" he hazarded reluctantly. "Of +course, this is a rough draft; I realize that. I suppose you'll +strengthen up the plot, later on. Chance for some good cattle-stealing +complications, I should think. But I'd boil it down to two reels, Luck, +if I were you. There's a lot of atmosphere you couldn't get, anyway--" + +"I can get every foot of that atmosphere," Luck put in crisply. + +"Oh, I suppose--but you don't want that much. Too expensive, where it +doesn't carry the action along. I'd put in some dance-hall scenes; you +haven't enough interiors. Make your lead a victim of card sharps, why +don't you, and have his sister come there after him? You could get some +great dramatic action--have her meet the heavy there--" + +"After the tried-and-tested recipe. Sure, Mart! We can take the middle +out of that _Her-Brother's-Honor_ film and use that; and if you're afraid +the public may recognize it, we'll run it backwards. Or we can mix it +with some _Western-Girl's-Romance_ film, or take--" + +"Now, Luck, wait a minute. Wait-a-minute!" Martinson's hand went up in +the approved gesture of stopping another's speech. "You can give it an +original twist. You know you can; you always have." + +Luck swore, accustomed though he was to the makeshifts of the business. +The street cars had stopped running the night before, while he was still +hammering that scenario out on the typewriter; the street cars had +stopped running, and the steam heat had been turned off in the hotel +where he lived, and he had finished with an old Mexican _serape_ draped +about his person for warmth. But his enthusiasm had not cooled, though +his room grew chill. He had gone to bed when the typing was done, and had +dreamed scene after scene vividly while he slept. Still glowing with the +pride of creation, he had read the script while his breakfast coffee had +cooled, and he had been the first man in the office, so eager was he to +share his secret and see Martinson's eyes gleam with impatience to have +the story filmed. + +Knowing this, you will know also why he swore. Martinson thrust out his +under lip at the oath, and tossed the script neatly into the clear space +on the desk. "Oh, if that's the way you feel about it!" His tone was +trenchant. "Sorry I offered any suggestions. There are some good bits, if +they're worked up right, and I naturally supposed you wanted my opinion." + +"I did. I never saw you square up to anything but the same old dime-novel +West before. I wanted to see how it would hit you." + +"Well, it don't." Martinson waited a minute while that sunk in. When he +spoke again, his manner was that of a man who has dismissed a +disagreeable subject, and has taken up important business. + +"We've made quite a haul since you left. A bunch of one-reelers from +Bently Brown. You'll eat 'em up, Luck,--all those stories of his +featuring the adventures of the XY cowboys. You've read 'em; everybody +has, according to him. They'll be cheap to put on, because the same sets +and the same locations will do for the lot. Same cast, too. He blew in +here temporarily hard up and wanting to unload, and we got the whole +series for next to nothing." He opened a desk drawer, and took out a +bundle of folded scripts tied with a dingy blue tape. Martinson was a +matter-of-fact man; he really did not understand just how much Luck's new +story meant to its author. If he had, he surely would not have been quite +so brisk and so frankly elated over that untidy lot of Bently Brown +scenarios. + +"I had all the synopses numbered and put on top here," he went on, "so +you can run them over and see what they're like. A small company will do, +Luck. That's one point that struck me. Two or three die, on an average, +in the first four hundred feet of every story; so you can double a lot. +I've had Clements go over them and start the carpenters on the street set +where most of the exterior action takes place; we're behind on releases, +you know, and these ought to be rushed. You'd better go over and see how +he's making out; you may want to make some changes." + +Luck hesitated so long that Martinson was on the edge of withdrawing the +proffered scripts. But he took them finally, and ran his eye +disparagingly over the titles. "Bently Brown!" he said, as though he were +naming something disagreeable. "I'm to film Bently Brown's +blood-and-battle stuff, am I?" He grinned, with the corners of his mouth +tipped downward so that you never would have suspected it of ever +producing Luck's famous smile. "I might turn them into comedy," he +suggested. "I expect I could get a punch by burlesquing--" + +"Punch!" Martinson pushed his chair back impetuously. "Punch? Why, my +godfrey, man, that stuff's all punch!" + +Luck curved a palm over his too-expressive mouth while he skimmed the +central idea from two or three synopses. Martinson watched him uneasily. +Martinson claimed to keep one finger pressed firmly upon the public +pulse--wherever that may be found--and to be ever alert for its warning +flutterings. Martinson claimed to know a great deal about what the public +liked in the way of moving pictures. He believed in Luck's knowledge of +the West, but he did not believe that the public would stand for the real +West at all; the public, he maintained, wanted its West served hot and +strong and reeking with the smoke of black powder. So-- + +"Well, the market demands that sort of thing," he declared, arguing +against that curved palm and the telltale wrinkles around Luck's eyes. +"It's all tommyrot, of course. I don't say it's good; I say it's the +stuff that goes. We're here to make what the public will pay to look +at." Martinson, besides keeping his finger on the public pulse and +attending to the marketing of the Acme wares and watching that expenses +did not run too high, found a little time in which to be human. "I know, +Luck," the human side of him observed sympathetically; "it's just +made-to-order melodrama, but business is simply rotten, old man. We've +just got to release films the market calls for. There's no +art-for-art's-sake in the movie business, and you know it. Now, +personally, I like that scenario of yours--" + +"Forget it!" said Luck crisply, warning him off the subject. To make the +warning keener-edged, he lifted the typed sheets over which he had worked +so late the night before, glanced at the top one, gave a snort, and tore +them twice down the length of them with vicious twists of his fingers. He +did not mean to be spectacular; he simply felt that way at that +particular moment, and he indulged the impulse to destroy something. He +dropped the fragments into Martinson's waste basket, picked up the bundle +of scripts and his hat, and went out with his mouth pulled down at the +corners and with his neck pretty stiff. + +He went swinging across the studio yard and on past the great stage where +the carpenters halted their work while they greeted him, and looked after +him and spoke of him when he had passed. Early idlers--extras with high +hopes and empty pockets--sent him wistful glances which he did not see at +all; though he did see Andy Green and his wife (who had been Rosemary +Allen). These two stood hesitating just within the half-open, high board +gate fifty yards away. Luck waved his hand and swerved toward them. + +"Howdy! Where's the rest of the bunch?" he called out as they hurried up +to him. Whereupon the group of extras were sharp bitten by the envy of +these two strangers, spoken to so familiarly by Luck Lindsay. + +"Do you know, I feel sure the boys are being held in the lost-child place +at the police station!" Rosemary Green, twinkled her brown eyes at him +from between strands of crinkly brown hair. "I had tags all fixed, with +name, age, owner's address and all that, and I was going to hang them +around the boys' necks with pale blue ribbon--pale blue would be so +becoming! But do you know, I couldn't find them! I feel worried. I should +hate to waste thirty-nine cents worth of pale blue ribbon. I can't wear +it myself; it makes me look positively swarthy." Rosemary Green had a +most captivating way of saying swarthy. + +The corners of Luck's mouth came up instantly. "We'll have to send out +scouting parties. I need that bunch of desperadoes. Let's look over by +the corrals. I've got to go over and see what kind of a street set +they're knocking together, anyway. + +"Hello! I have sure-enough crying need for all you strays," he exclaimed +five minutes later, when they came upon the Flying TJ boys standing +disconsolately at the head of the street "set" upon which carpenters were +hammering and sawing and painters were daubing. Luck's eyes chilled as he +took in the stereotyped "Western" crudeness of the set. + +"Well, we sure need you--and need you bad," Pink retorted. "We want to +know what town was peeled so they could set the rind up like that and +call it a street? Between you and me, Luck, it don't look good to me, +back or front. You walk into what claims to be a saloon, and come out on +a view of the hills. They tell me the bar of that imitation saloon is +away over there on that platform, and they say the bottles are all full +of tea. That right?" + +Luck nodded gloomily. "Soon as they get the set up, it's going to be your +privilege to come boiling out of that saloon, shooting two guns, Pink," +he prophesied. "You'll have the fun of killing half a dozen boys that +come down from this end shooting as they ride." He put his cigarette +between his lips and began to untie the dingy blue tape that bound the +scenarios together. + +"Ever read any of Bently Brown's stories? They wished a bunch of them on +to me while I was gone and couldn't defend myself," he said, as one who +breaks bad news. "I'm certainly sorry about this, boys. It's a long way +from what I brought you out here to do; and if you want to, you can call +the deal off and go home. Rip-snorting, rotten melodrama--cheap as ice in +Alaska. Stuff I hate--because it's the stuff that cheapens the West in +pictures." + +"What about our range picture?" Andy Green began anxiously. + +Luck choked back an oath because of Andy's wife. "Ah--they're married to +the idea that this rot is what sells best. They don't know what a _real_ +Western picture is: they never saw one. And they're afraid to take a +chance. I was in hopes--but Mart's the big chief, you know. He'd gone and +loaded up with this trash, and so he couldn't see my story at all. I get +his viewpoint, all right; he's keen to pry off some real money, and he's +afraid to experiment with new tools. But it does seem pretty raw to put +you boys working on this cheap studio stuff after getting you out here to +do something worth while." + +"We're to stay right here, then?" Weary spoke the question that was in +the minds of all of them. + +"That's the present outlook," Luck confessed with bitterness. "I don't +need real country for this junk. I was all primed to show him where I'd +have to take my company to New Mexico, but I didn't say anything about it +when he sprung this Bently Brown business. This will all be made right +here at the studio and out in Griffith Park." + +Down deep in Luck's heart there was a hurt he would not reveal to any +one. It was built partly of disappointment and an honest dislike for +doing unworthy work; it had in it also some personal chagrin at being +compelled to put the Happy Family at work in the very class of pictures +he had often ridiculed in his talk with them, after bringing them all the +way from Montana so that he might produce his big range picture. He stood +looking somberly at the set which Clements had planned to save time--and +therefore dollars--for the Acme Company. He thought of his range story, +as it had first grown out of the night away up there in the plains +country; he thought of how he had hurried so that he might the sooner +make the vision a reality; how he had talked of it confidently to these +men who had listened with growing enthusiasm and interest, until his +vision had become their vision, his hopes their hopes. + +They had left the Flying U and come with him to help make that big +picture of the range. By their eager talk they had helped him to +strengthen certain scenes; they had even suggested new, original material +as they told of this adventure and that accident, and argued--as was +their habit--ever scenes and situations. That was why Andy had spoken of +it as _their_ picture. That was why they were here; that was what had +brought them early to the studio. And in his hand he held a half dozen or +more of those cheap, lurid stories he had always despised; they must let +the public see their faces in these impossible, illogical situations, or +they must go back and call Luck Lindsay names to salve their +disappointment. + +The dried little man--whose name was Dave Wiswell--came walking curiously +up the fresh-made "street," his sharp eyes taking in the falsity of the +whole row of shack-houses that had no backs; bald behind as board fences, +save where two-by-fours braced them from falling. He saw the group +standing before a wall that purported to be the front of a bank (which +would be robbed with much bloodshed in the second scenario) and he +hurried a little. Luck scowled at him preoccupiedly, nodded a good +morning, and turned abruptly to the others. + +"Listen. If you boys are game for this melodrama, I'd like to use you, +all right. You'll get experience in the business, anyway, so maybe it +won't do you any harm. And if the weather holds good, we'll just make a +long hard drive of this bunch of drivel; we'll rush 'em through--sabe? +And I'll make it my business to see that Mart doesn't unload any more of +the same. You may even get some fun out of it, seeing you're not fed up +on this said Western drama, the way I am. Anyway, what's the word? Shall +I hop into the machine and go down and buy you fellows a bunch of return +tickets, or shall I assign you your parts and wade into this blood and +bullets business?" + +Weary folded his arms and grinned down at Luck. "I'm all for the blood +and bullets, myself," he said promptly. "I'm just crazy to come shooting +and yelling down this little imitation street and do things that are +bold and bad." + +"I should think," interjected Rosemary Green, with a pretty viciousness, +"that you'd be ashamed, Luck Lindsay! Do you think we are a bunch of +quitters? Give me a part--and a gun--and I'll stand on a ladder behind +that hotel window and shoot 'em as fast as they can turn the corner down +there." Her brown eyes twinkled hearteningly at him. "I'll pull my hair +down, and yell and shoot and wring my hands--Pink, you keep still! I'm +positive I can shoot and wring my hands at the same time in a Bently +Brown story, can't I, Luck?" + +"You certainly can," Luck told her grimly. "You can do worse than that +and get by. Well, all right, folks. You prowl around and kill time while +I get ready to start. There won't be anything doing till after lunch, at +the earliest, so make yourselves at home. I'd introduce you to some of +these folks if it was worth while, but it ain't. You'll know them soon +enough--most of them to your sorrow, at that." He turned on his heel with +a hasty "See yuh later," and plunged into the work before him just as +energetically as though his heart were in it. + + + + +CHAPTER SIX + +VILLAINS ALL AND PROUD OF IT + + +"Day's work, boys!" called Luck through his little megaphone at three +o'clock one day, and doubled up his working script that was much crumpled +and scribbled with hasty pencil marks. "No use spoiling good film," he +remarked to his assistant, glancing up at the sweeping fog bank, off to +the west. "By the time we rehearse the next scene, she'll be too dark to +shoot. You go and order these cavalry costumes, Beckitt; and, say! You +tell them down there that if they're shy on the number, they better set +down and make enough, because they won't see a cent of our money if +there's so much as a canteen lacking. And tell 'em to send army guns. +That last assortment of junk they sent out was pathetic. I want equipment +for fifty U.S. Cavalry, time of the early eighties. That don't mean +forty-nine--get me? You're inclined to let those fellows have it their +own way too much. I want this cavalry--" + +"There ain't any close-ups of cavalry, are there?" Beckitt demurred. "I +told them last time I thought those guns would do, because I knew the +detail wouldn't--" + +"Listen." Luck's tone was deliberately tolerant. "That's maybe the reason +you've been searching your soul for all along--the reason why you can't +get past the assistant-director stage. I want those fifty cavalrymen +equipped! Do you get that?" While his eyes held Beckitt uncomfortably +with their stern steadfastness, Luck thrust the script into his coat +pocket that had a permanent, motion-picture-director sag to it. "If I +meant that any old gun would do, I'd give my orders that way. Now, +remember, there isn't going to be any waiting around while you go back +and argue, nor any makeshifts, nor anything but fifty cavalrymen fully +equipped. Here's the list complete for to-morrow's order. You see that +it's filled!" + +Beckitt took the list which he should have made himself, since that was +what he was paid for doing, and went off in the sulks and the company +machine. Luck pulled a solacing cigar from an inner pocket and licked +down the roughened outer leaves, and scowled thoughtfully across the +studio yard. The camera man was figuring up footage or something, and his +assistant was hurrying to get the tripod folded and put away. There was a +new briskness in the movements of every one save Luck himself, after he +spoke that last sentence through the megaphone. + +The Happy Family--or that part of it which had thrown away pitchforks and +taken to the pictures--came clanking across the stage toward Luck. You +would never have known the Happy Family, unless it were the Native Son +who wore his usual regalia in exaggerated form. The Happy Family had +wide, flapping chaps that made them drag their feet they were so heavy +and so long, and great Mexican spurs whose rowels dug tiny trenches in +the ground when they walked. They wore the biggest Stetsons that famous +hat brand ever was stamped upon. They had huge bandanas draped +picturesquely over their chests, and their sleeves were rolled to the +elbows and their eyes rimmed with deep pencil shadings. At their hips +swung six-shooters of violent pattern and portent. Around their middles +sagged belts filled with blank cartridges. A sack of tobacco was making +the rounds as they came on, and Luck watched them through speculatively +narrowed lids. + +"Say, by cripes, that there saloon is the driest poison-palace I ever +surged out of with two guns spittin' death and dumnation!" Big Medicine +complained, coming up with the plain intention of lighting his cigarette +from Luck's cigar. "How'd we stack up this time, boss? Bein' soused on +cold tea, I couldn't rightly pass judgment. How many was it I murdered in +cold blood, in that there scene where I laid 'em out with black powder? +Four, or five? Pink, here, claims I killed him twicet, whereas he oughta +be left alive enough to jump on his horse and ride three hundred and +fifty miles to fall dead in his best girl's arms. He claims he made that +ride day before yesterday, and done some pitiful weaving around in the +saddle, out there in the hills, and that he died in that blond lady's +arms first thing this morning, and I hadn't no right to kill him twicet +afterwards in the saloon fight. Now I leave it to you, boss. How about +this here killin' Pink off every oncet in a while?" + +Deep in his throat Luck chuckled. "Well, Pink certainly does die +pathetic," he soothed the perturbed murderer, dropping his professional +brusqueness for frank comradeship. "He's about the best little close-up +dier I ever worked with. He can get a sob anytime he rolls his eyes and +gasps and falls backward." He clapped his hand down on Pink's shoulder +and gave it a little shake. + +"That's all right," drawled the Native Son, taking off his sombrero to +deepen the crease and the dents, because three girls were coming across +the lot. "But I've got a complaint of my own to make. When you holler for +Bud to start the rough stuff, he just goes powder crazy. He shot me up +four times in that scene! Twice he held the gun so close my scalp's all +powder-marked, and by rights he should have blowed the top of my head +plumb into the street. He gets so taken up with this slaughter-house +business that he'll wind up by shooting himself a few times if you don't +watch him." + +"One thing," Weary put in mildly, "I want to speak about, Luck. We need +more blood for those murders. I didn't have half enough for all the +mortal wounds Bud gave me. By rights that saloon should be plumb reeking +with gore when we're all killed off--the way Bud flies at it with those +two six-shooters. No bullets hit the walls anywhere, so it stands to +reason they all land in a soft spot on our persons. I needed a large +bucket of blood--and I had about a half teacupful." He grinned. "Mamma! +That was sure some slaughter, though!" + +"Where's Tracy Gray Joyce?" Luck inquired irrelevantly, with a hasty +glance around them. "To-morrow, he'll have to come into that same +slaughter pen and seize the murderer and subdue him by the steely glint +of his eye and by his unflinching demeanor." He pulled the corners of his +mouth down expressively. "That's the way the scenario reads," he added +defensively. + +"Well, say, by cripes, he better amble down to the city and buy him some +more glint!" Big Medicine bawled, and laughed afterwards with his big +_haw-haw-haw_. "And I'll gamble there ain't enough unflinchin' demeanor +on the Coast to put that boy through the scene. Honest-to-gran'-ma, Luck, +that there Tracy Gray Joyce gits pale, and his Adam's apple pumps up and +down when I come up and smile at him! What color do yuh reckon he'll turn +to when he stands up to me right after me slaying all these innocent +boys--and me a-foamin' at the mouth and gloatin' over the foul deed I've +just did? Say? How's he going to keep that there Adam's apple from +shootin' clean up through his hair, and his knees from wobblin'? How--" + +"He won't," said Luck suddenly, with a brightening of his eyes. "He +won't. I hope they do wobble. You go ahead, Bud, and foam at the mouth. +You--you _look_ at Tracy Gray Joyce. Not in the rehearsing, understand; +leave out the foam and the gloating till we turn the camera on the scene. +Sabe? On the quiet, boys." + +"Sure," came the guarded chorus. It was remarkable what a complete +understanding there was between Luck and the Happy Family. It was that +complete understanding which had kept Luck's spirits up during his +unloved task of producing Bently Brown stuff in film. + +"Well, say!" Big Medicine leaned close and throttled his voice down to a +hoarse whisper. "What kinda hee-ro will your Tracy Gray Joyce look like, +when I start up foamin' and gloatin' at him?" + +Luck smiled. "That," he said calmly, "is for the camera to find out." He +was going to say something more on the subject, but some one called to +him anxiously from over toward the office. So he told them _adios_ +hurriedly and went his busy way, and left the Happy Family discussing him +gravely among themselves. + +The Happy Family were so interested in this new work that they were ready +to see the bright side even of these weird performances which purported +to be Western drama. If you did not take it seriously, all this violence +of dress and behavior was fun. The Happy Family was slipping into a +rivalry of violence; and the strange part of it was that Luck Lindsay, +stickler for realism, self-confessed enthusiast on the uplifting of +motion pictures to a fine art, permitted their violence,--which was not +as the violence of other, better trained Western actors. The Happy +Family, after their first self-conscious tendency to duck behind +something or somebody, had come to forget the merciless, recording eye of +the camera. They had come to look upon their work as a game, played for +the amusement of Luck Lindsay, who watched them always, and for the open +ridicule of Bently Brown, writer of these tales of blood and heroics. + +And Luck not only permitted but encouraged them in this exaggeration,--to +the amazement of the camera man who had turned the crank on more Western +dramas than he could remember. Scenes of violence--such as the saloon row +in which Big Medicine had forgotten that Pink was to be left alive, and +so had killed him twice--made the camera man and the assistant laugh when +they should have shuddered; and to wonder why Luck Lindsay, wholly biased +though he was in favor of the Happy Family, did not seem to realize that +they were not getting the right punch into the pictures. + +Luck was not behaving at all in his usual manner with his company. +Evenings, instead of holding himself aloof from his subordinates, he +would head straight for the furnished bungalow which the Flying U boys +had taken possession of, with Rosemary Green to give the home atmosphere +which saved the place from becoming a mere bunk-house de luxe. If he +could possibly manage it, Luck would reach headquarters in time for +dinner--the Happy Family blandly called it supper, of course--and would +proceed to forget the day's irritations while he ate what he ambiguously +called "real cookin'." + +There was a fireplace in that bungalow, and a fairly large living-room +surrounding the fireplace. The Happy Family extravagantly indulged +themselves in wood, even at the unbelievable price they must pay for it; +and after supper they would light the fire and hunt up chairs enough, and +roll cigarettes, and talk themselves quite away from the present and into +the past of glowing memory. + +The horses they rode--before that fireplace--would have made any +Frontier Day celebration famous enough to be mentioned in the next +encyclopedia published. The herds they took through hard winters and +summer droughts would have made them millionaires all, if they could +only have turned them into flesh-and-blood animals. They talked of +blizzards and of high water and of short grass and of thunderstorms. +They added little touches to the big range picture Luck had planned to +make. Starting off suddenly in this wise: "Say, Luck, why don't you +have--?" and the fires of enthusiasm would flare again in Luck's eyes, +and the talk would grow eager. + +But--and here was the key to the remarkable interpretation which Luck +permitted the Happy Family to give the Bently Brown stories--some time +before the evening was too old, Luck would swing the talk around to the +work they were doing. He would pull a Bently Brown scenario from his +pocket and read, with much sarcastic comment, the scenes they were later +to enact. He would incite the Happy Family to poking fun at such lurid +performances as Bently Brown described in all seriousness and in detail. +He would encourage comment and argument and the play of their caustic +imaginations upon the action of the story. He would gradually make them +see the whole thing in the light of a huge joke; he would, without saying +much himself, bring the Happy Family into the mood of wanting to make +Bently Brown appear ridiculous to all beholders. + +Is it any wonder, then, if the camera man and the assistants should +exchange puzzled glances when Luck put the Happy Family through their +scenes? Exits and entrances, the essential details of the action, Luck +directed painstakingly, as always he had done. Why, then, said camera man +to assistants, should he let those fellows go in and ball up the dramatic +business and turn whole scenes into farce with their foolery? And why had +he chosen Tracy Gray Joyce as leading man? And that eye-rolling, limp +sentimentalist, Lenore Honiwell, as his leading woman? Luck was known to +despise these two, personally and professionally. They could not, to save +their lives, get through a dramatic scene together without giving the +observers a sickish feeling. To see Tracy Gray Joyce lay his hand upon +the left side of his cravat and cast his eyes upward always made Luck +shiver; yet Tracy Gray Joyce would he have for leading man, and none +other. To see Lenore Honiwell throw back her head, close her eyes, and +heave one of those terrific motion-picture sighs always made the camera +man snort; yet Luck, who before had considered her scarcely worth a civil +bow when he met her, had actually coaxed her away from a director who +really admired her style of acting. + +And when Luck, who had always gone about his work impervious to curious +onlookers, suddenly changed his method and ordered all interior sets +screened in, and all bystanders away from the immediate vicinity of his +exterior scenes, the Acme people began to call him "swell-headed"--when +they did not call him worse. Even his excuse that he was working with +boys new to the business and did not want them rattled failed to satisfy +most of them. + +The Happy Family, in the tiny, bare dressing rooms which they called +box-stalls in merciless candor, were smearing their faces liberally with +cold cream and still arguing among themselves over the doubtful blessing +of owning as many lives as a cat, and bewailing the bruises they had +received while sacrificing a few of their lives to the blood-lust of Big +Medicine and Pink, the two official, Bently-Brown bad men. Outside their +two connecting "stalls" a fine drizzle was making the studio yard an +empty place of churchyard gloom and incidentally justifying Luck in +quitting so early. Big Medicine was swabbing paint from his eyebrows and +bellowing his opinion of a man that will keep a-comin', by cripes, after +he's shot the third time at close range, and then kick because he takes +so much killing off. This was aimed at the Native Son, who had evidently +died hard, and who meant to retaliate as soon as he got that dab of paint +out of his eye. But the door opened violently against his person and +startled him into forgetting his next observation. + +This was Luck, and he had the look of a man who owns a guilty secret, and +is ready to be rather proud of his guilt,--providing society consents to +wink at it with him. He was not smiling, exactly; he had a wicked kind of +twinkle in his eyes. + +"Hurry up, boys! My Lord, how you fellows do primp and jangle in here! +They're going to run our first picture, _The Soul of Littlefoot Law_. +Don't you fel--" + +"The which?" Big Medicine whirled upon him, rubbing his left eye into a +terrifying, bloodshot condition while he glared with the other. + +"_The Soul of Littlefoot Law_," Luck repeated distinctly with a perfect +neutrality of manner. + +"'S that what you call all that ridin' and shootin' we done, that you +said was by moonlight?" Pink inquired pugnaciously--for a young man who +had died the death four different times that day. + +"That's what it's called," Luck averred with firmness. + +"Aw--where does Soul of Littlefoot Law come in at?" Happy Jack scoffed. + +"It doesn't, so far as I know." + +"Aw, there ain't no sense in such a name as that. Is that where I got +shot off'n my horse, and Bud, here, done his best to run over me?" + +"That's the one. My Lord, boys, how long does it take you fellows to get +your make-up off? They'll have the film run and passed and released and +out on the five-cent circuit on its fifteenth round before you--" Luck, +director though he was, found it wise to pass out quickly and hold the +door shut behind him for a minute. "Honest, boys, you want to hurry," he +called through the closed door. He waited until the sounds within +indicated that they were hurrying quite violently, and then he went his +way; and he still had the look in his eyes of one who bears in his soul a +secret guilt of which he is inclined to be proud. + +When the Acme people gathered resignedly in the private projection room, +however, Luck's wicked little twinkle had turned a shade anxious. He +excused himself from the chair between Martinson and Mollie Ryan, the +stenographer, and went over to confer with the Happy Family and the dried +little man who kept clannishly together as usual, and he forgot to return +to his place. + +The Acme people, personally and individually, were sick and tired of all +motion pictures that did not portray with vividness the beauty or the +talents of themselves, or the faults of their acquaintances. No Acme +people, save Lenore Honiwell and Tracy Gray Joyce and a phlegmatic +character woman, were in this picture at all. The camera man who took it +did not think highly of it and considered the wonderful photography as +good as wasted, and he had said as much--and more--to his intimates. +Beckitt, Luck's assistant, had privately announced it as the rottenest +piece of cheese he had ever seen under a Wild-West label, and disclaimed +all responsibility. They of the cutting and trimming clan had not said +anything at all. Martinson, having heard the rumors, felt that they +confirmed his own suspicion that Luck had made a big blunder in bringing +those cowboys into the company. They were not actors. They did not +pretend to be actors. + +You will see that it was a critical audience indeed that gathered there +in the projection room that rainy afternoon to see the trial run of _The +Soul of the Littlefoot Law_. It would take a good deal to win any +approbation from that bunch. + +And then they were looking at the first scene, which Was a night in +Whoopalong, the fake town over there beyond the big stage. The Happy +Family, all disguised as cowboys, came surging out of the darkness. +H-m-m. That was the bunch that Luck Lindsay had done so much bragging +about, and called "real boys," was it? silently commented the audience. +No different from any other cowboys, as far as any one could see. + +True, they used about half the usual amount of film footage in getting to +foreground; probably underspeeded the camera,--an old, old trick which +has helped to put the dash and ginger into many a poor horseman's act. + +But the "XY cowboys" certainly surged up to foreground, and it was seen +that they rode with reins in their teeth, and that each and every man +fired two huge six-shooters straight up at the moon every time their +horses hit the ground with forefeet. The Happy Family leaned forward and +craned around the heads of those in front that they might see all of it. +Luck had told them before making this scene to "eat 'em alive," and the +Happy Family had very nearly done so. Andy Green nudged his wife, +Rosemary, and whispered hurriedly that this was where the camera man had +pulled up his tripod by the roots and beat it, thinking he was going to +be run over; and that was why the scene was cut unexpectedly just where +Andy set his horse on its haunches and posed, a heroic figure of a cowboy +rampant, immediately before the lens. + +Luck, glancing hurriedly to right and left, slid down and rested the nape +of his neck on the back of his chair, slipped a fresh stick of gum +between his teeth, hung his hat on his knee, and prepared to view his +work with critical mind and impartial, and with his conscience like his +body at ease. The thing had certainly started off with zip enough, since +zip was what Mart claimed the Public demanded. + +The next scene was a continuation of the one before,--the camera man +having evidently recovered himself and gotten to work again. The Happy +Family, still surging and still shooting two guns apiece at the pale +moon, were shown entering the saloon door four abreast and with the rest +crowding for place. Still there was zip; all kinds of zip. The Happy +Family nudged and grinned in the dusk and were very much pleased with +themselves as XY cowboys seeking mild entertainment in town. + +Some one behind remarked upon the surging and the shooting, and Big +Medicine turned his head quickly and sent a hoarse stage whisper in the +general direction of the mumble. + +"Ah-h, that there ain't anything! Luck never let us turn ourselves loose +there a-tall. You wait, by cripes, till yuh see us where we git warmed up +and strung out proper! You wait! Honest to gran'--" It was Luck's elbow +that stopped him by the simple expedient of cutting off his wind. Big +Medicine gave a grunt and said no more. + +Thereafter, the Happy Family discovered that there was a certain +continuity in the barbaric performances in which Luck had grinningly +encouraged them to indulge themselves. They beheld themselves engaged in +various questionable enterprises, and they laughed in naive enjoyment as +certain bloodcurdling traits in their characters were depicted with +startling vividness. Accented by make-up and magnified on the screen, the +goggling, frog-like ugliness of Big Medicine became like unto ogres of +childish memory; his smile was a thing to make one's back hair stand up +with a cold, prickling sensation. Happy Jack stared at himself and his +exaggerated awkwardness incredulously, with a sheepish grin of +appreciation. The rest of them watched and missed no slightest gesture. + +So they saw the plot of Bently Brown unfold, scene by scene; unfold in +violence and malevolent intrigue and zip and much fighting. Also unfolded +something of which Bently Brown had never dreamed; something which the +audience, though greeting it with laughter, failed at first to recognize +for what it was worth, because every one knew all about the Bently-Brown +Western dramas, and every one believed that they were to be made after +the usual recipe more elaborately stirred. So every one had been +chortling through several scenes before the significance of their +laughter occurred to them. + +Comedy--that was it. Comedy, that had slipped in with cap and bells +just when the door was flung open for black-robed Tragedy. But it was +too late to stop laughing when they discovered the trick. They saw it +now, in the very sub-titles which Luck had twisted impishly into sly +humor that pointed to the laugh, in the deeds of blood that followed. +They saw it in the goggling ferocity of Big Medicine; in the +innocent-eyed, dimpled fiendishness of Pink; in the lank awkwardness of +Happy Jack. They saw it in the sentimental mannerisms of Lenore +Honiwell, whose sickish emotionalism slipped pat into the burlesque. +They rocked in their seats at the heroics of Tracy Gray Joyce, who +could never again be taken seriously, since Luck had tagged him +mercilessly as an unconscious comedian. + +Oh, yes, there was zip to the picture! But there was no explanation of +the title. _The Soul of Littlefoot Law_ remained as great a mystery when +the picture was finished as it had been at the start. Littlefoot Law, by +the way, was Pink. That much the audience discovered, and no more; for as +to his soul, he did not seem to own one. + +Luck, still hunched down so that his back hair rubbed against his chair +back, was laughing with his jaws wide apart and his fine teeth still +gleaming in the half darkness, when Ted, general errand boy at the +office, came straddling over intervening laps and laid a compelling hand +on his shoulder. + +"Say, Luck," he whispered excitedly, "the audience author's with Mart, +and they both want t' see you. And, say, I guess you're in Dutch, all +right; the author's awful mad, and so is Mart. But say, no matter what +they do to you, Luck, take it from me, that pit'cher's a humdinger! I +like to died a-laughing!" + + + + +CHAPTER SEVEN + +BENTLY BROWN DOES NOT APPRECIATE COMEDY + + +Luck unhooked his hat from his knee, brought his laughing jaws together +with that eloquent, downward tilt to the corners of his mouth, sat up +straight, considered swiftly the possibilities of the next half hour, and +paid tribute in one expressive word of four letters before he went +crawling over half a dozen pairs of knees to do battle for his picture. +His picture, you understand. For since he had made it irresistible comedy +instead of very mediocre drama, he felt all the pride of creation in his +work. That was his picture that had set the Acme people laughing,--they +who had come to carp and to talk knowingly of continuity and of technique +and dramatic values, and to criticize everything from the sets to the +photography. It was his picture; he had made it what it was. So he went +as a champion rather than as a culprit to face the powers above him. + +Martinson and Bently Brown were waiting for him near the door. They were +not going to stay and see the next picture run, and that, in Luck's +opinion, was a bad-weather sign. But he came up to them cheerfully, +turning his hat in his fingers to find the front of it before he set it +on his head. (These limp, wool, knockabout hats are always more or less +confusing, and Luck was fastidious about his apparel.) + +"Ah--Mr. Brown, this is Mr. Lindsay, ah--director who is producing your +stories." Martinson's tone was as neutral as he could make it. + +Luck said that he was glad to meet Mr. Brown, which was a lie. At the +same instant he found the stitched-down bow on his hat, and from there +felt his way to the front. At the same time he decided that there was +going to be something doing presently, if Mart's manner meant anything at +all. Mart was a peaceable soul, and in the approaching crisis Luck knew +he would climb hurriedly upon the fence of neutrality and stay there; and +Luck could fight or climb a tree as he chose. + +They went outside, and Luck turned his eyes sidewise and took a look at +Bently Brown. He measured him mentally from pigskin puttees to rakish, +stiff brimmed Stetson with careful dimples in the crown and a leather +hatband stamped with horses' heads and his initials. In a picture, Luck +would have cast Bently Brown, costume and all, for a comedy mining +engineer or something of that sort. You know the type: He arrives on the +stage that is held up, and is always in the employ of the monied octopus, +and the cowboys who pursue and capture the bandits have fun afterwards +with the engineer,--so much fun that he crawls out of an up-stairs window +in the night and departs hastily and forever from that place. You are +perfectly familiar with the character, I am sure. + +Luck, after that swift, comprehensive glance, was not greatly alarmed. In +that he made his greatest blunder. He should have reckoned with the +wounded vanity of the little author who believes himself great. He should +have reminded himself that Bently Brown was not a comedy mining engineer, +but that touchiest of all mortals, the nearly successful author. He +should have taken warning from the stiff-necked, stiff-backed gait of +Bently Brown on the short walk to the office. He should have read danger +in the blinking lids of his pale eyes, and in his self-conscious manner +of looking straight before him. + +In the office, then, luck basely deserted one Luck Lindsay, and left him +to fight a losing battle. For Bently Brown was incensed, insulted, and +outraged over the manner in which _The Soul of Littlefoot Law_ had been +filmed. The story had been caricatured out of all semblance to its +original self. Littlefoot Law had been shown as having no soul whatever. +Instead of being permitted to make the final, supreme sacrifice of his +life for the honor of his enemy,--which would have revealed to the +audience his possession of a clean white soul in spite of his bad +character,--he had been made out a little fiend who would shoot you on +the slightest provocation. The girl had been thrust into the background, +and the hero had been made into a coward and a paltry villain; they were +all desperadoes upon the screen. Never in his life had Bently Brown been +made to suffer such an affront. Never had he dreamed that his work would +be made a thing to laugh at-- + +"They certainly did laugh," Luck lazily interrupted. "And believe me, Mr. +Brown, it takes real stuff to collect a laugh out of that bunch. It will +be a riot with the public; you can bank on that. By the time I get a few +more made and released, you can expect to see your name in the papers +without paying advertising rates." Whatever possessed Luck to talk that +way to Bently Brown, I cannot say. He surely must have seen that the +little, over-costumed author was choking with spleen. + +"It was a farce!" The small, yellow mustache of Bently Brown was +twitching comically with the tremble of his lips beneath. "A bald, +unmitigated farce!" + +"Surest thing you know," Luck agreed, with that little chuckle of his. +"At first I was afraid the crowd wouldn't get it; I didn't know but they +might try to take it seriously. Now, I know for certain that it will get +over. It will be the cleanest, funniest, farce-comedy series that has +ever been filmed." Luck sat up straight and pulled a cigar from his +pocket and looked at it absent-mindedly. "Say, those boys of mine are +certainly real ones! I wouldn't trade that bunch for the highest-salaried +actors you could hand me. Do you know what made that picture such a +scream? It was because there wasn't a bit of made-to-order comedy +business in the whole film. Those boys didn't think about acting funny +just to make folks laugh. They were so doggoned busy having fun with the +story and showing up its weak points that they forgot to be +self-conscious. If I'd had a regular comedy company working on it, +believe me, Mr. Brown, it might have turned out almost as rotten a farce +as it would be as a drama!" + +Had Bently Brown owned under his pink skin any of the primitive instincts +which he was so fond of portraying in his characters, he would have +killed Luck without any further argument or delay. + +Instead of that he spluttered and stormed like a scolding woman. He +lifted first one puttee and then the other, and he shook his fist, and +he nodded his head violently, and finally was constrained to lift the +leather-banded Stetson from his blond hair and wipe the perspiration +from his brow with a lavender initialed handkerchief. He said a great +deal in a very few minutes, but it was too involved, too incoherent to +be repeated here. Luck gathered, however, that he meant to sue the Acme +Company for about nine million dollars damages to his feelings and his +reputation, if _The Soul of Littlefoot Law_ was released in its present +form. He battered at Luck's grinning composure with his full supply of +invectives. When he perceived that Luck's eyes twinkled more and more +while they watched him, and that Luck's smile was threatening to +explode into laughter, Bently Brown shook his fist at the two of them, +shrilled something about seeing his lawyer at once, and went out and +slammed the door. + +"Lor-dee! He'd make a hit in comedy, that fellow," Luck observed +placidly, and lighted the cigar he had been holding. "What's he mean--' +sue the company'?" + +"He means sue the company," Martinson retorted grimly. "That clause in +the contract where we agree to produce his stories in a manner befitting +the quality and fame of these several stories in fiction; he's got +grounds for action there, and he's going to make the most of it. He's +sore, anyway. Some one's been telling him he practically made us a +present of his stuff." + +"Hell!" said Luck. "Why didn't you say so?" + +"Why didn't you say that you were turning that stuff into farce-comedy?" +Martinson came back sharply. "I could have told you it wouldn't get by. I +knew Brown wouldn't stand for anything like that; and I knew he could put +the gaff into us on that 'manner befitting' clause." + +"It's a wonder you wouldn't have jarred loose from some of that wisdom," +Luck observed tartly. "You never gave me any dope at all on this Bently +Brown person. You handed me the junk he stung you on--and believe me, as +drama he'd have stung you with it as a present!--you handed it to me to +film. I made the most of it." + +"You made a mess of it," Martinson corrected peevishly. + +"You laughed," Luck pointed out laconically. Then his eyes twinkled +suddenly. "'Laugh and the world laughs with you,'" he quoted shamelessly, +and took a long, satisfying suck at his cigar. + +"The world won't step up and pay damages to Bently Brown," Martinson +reminded him, "if that picture is released as it stands. How many have +you made, so far?" + +"I'm finishing the third; getting funnier, too, as they go along." + +"You've got to cut out that funny business. You'll have to retake this +whole thing, Luck; make it straight drama. We can't afford a lawsuit, +these hard times--and injunctions tying up the releases, and damages to +pay when the thing's thrashed out in court. You'll have to retake this +whole picture. Nice bunch of useless expense, I must say, when I've +been chasing nickels off the expense account of this company and +sitting up nights nursing profits! We'll have to cut salaries now, to +break even on this fluke. I've left the payroll alone so far. That's +the worst of a break like this. The whole company has got to pay for +every blunder from now on." + +Luck's eyes hardened while he listened. He did not call his work a +blunder, and the charge did not sit well coming from another. + +"Buy off Bently Brown," he advised crisply. "Offer him a new contract, +naming this stuff as comedy. Advertise them as the famous comedies of +Bently Brown, the well-known author. Show him some good publicity dope +along that line. Give him the credit of making the stories live ones. +This series will be a money-maker, and a big one, if ever they reach the +screen. You're old enough in the business to know that, Mart. You saw how +this film hit the bunch, and you know what it takes to rouse any +enthusiasm in the projection room. And take it from me, Mart--this is +straight!--that's the only way in God's world to make that series take +hold at all. As drama the stuff is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. It's +only by giving it the twist I gave it that it will get over. You do that, +Mart. You kid this Bently Brown into being featured as the humorist of +the age, and pay him a little something for swallowing his disappointment +as a dramatic author. I'll go ahead with my boys, and we'll deliver the +goods. You do that, and you'll be setting up nights counting profits +instead of nursing them!" + +Martinson began to stir up the litter on his desk,--another bad-weather +sign. "I can't waste time talking nonsense," he snapped. "I've got plenty +to do without that. That stuff has got to be retaken; every foot of it, +if you've gone on burlesquing the action. I happen to know that Brown +wouldn't consider such a compromise. You've made a bad break, and I +believe you made the first one when you brought that bunch of cowboys +back with you. If they can do straight dramatic acting, all right; if +not, you'd better let them out and start over with professionals." + +For a peaceable man, Martinson was angry. He had taken some trouble in +smoothing down the ruffled temper of Bently Brown, even before viewing +the trial run of the picture. Martinson hated disputes as a cat hates to +walk in fresh-fallen snow, and the parting tirade of Bently Brown had +affected him unpleasantly. + +For a full two minutes Luck smoked and did not speak, and as he had done +once before, Martinson repented his harshness when it was too late. +"Personally, your version struck me as awfully funny," he began +placatingly. + +"Who gives a cuss how it struck you personally?" Luck stood up with +unexpected haste. "You trim and truckle to every one that comes along +with a gold brick, and that's why you have to sit up nights to nurse the +profits. If you had a little stiffening in your back, the profits would +show up better. You paid good money for this bunch of rot, and turned it +over to me to whip into a profitable investment. You can make the rounds +of the studio and get a vote on whether I've done it or not. Put it up to +your Public; they'll mighty soon let you know whether the film's a +money-getter. If it is, your business as general manager and president of +the Acme Film Company is to get Bently Brown in line for the production +to go on. A clause such as you mention in the agreement with him shows a +bigger blunder on your part than anything I've done or ever will do. If +you'd had as much sense as Ted, you'd have kept that clause out. If you'd +had half as much brains as the comedy burro out in the corral you'd never +have loaded up with that stuff, anyway; you'd have seen at a glance that +it was rotten. + +"Now, I've shown what I can do with those stories. I've taken your bad +bargain and put it into a money-making shape. As to the break I made in +getting those boys out here, you'll have to show me--that's all. They +seem, to have made good all right, judging from the way that film took +with the crowd. And if you ask my opinion as a director, they beat any +near-professional on the Acme pay roll. My work, and their work, goes +right along as it has started--or it stops. If you want those stories +worked up in a lot of darned, sickly, slush melodrama, you can set some +simp at it that don't know any better." Luck stopped and shut his teeth +together against some personal remarks that he would later feel ashamed +of having uttered. He turned to the door, swallowed hard, and forced +himself to a dignified calm before he spoke again. + +"You know my phone number, Mart. By seven in the morning I'll expect to +hear from you. You can tell me then whether I'm to go ahead with these +stories the way I've started, or whether to pull out of the Company +altogether. One or the other. I'll want to know in the morning." Then +he went out. + +"Dammit, who's running this company--you or I?" Martinson called +after him heatedly. But Luck was already standing on the steps and +hoisting his umbrella against the drizzle, and he did not give any +sign that he heard. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHT + +"THERE'S GOT TO BE A LINE DRAWED SOMEWHERES" + + +By seven o'clock in the morning,--since that was his ultimatum,--Luck +was standing in his bare feet and pajamas, acrimoniously arguing with +Martinson over the telephone. Usually he was up at six, but he was a +stubborn young man, and the day promised much rainfall, anyway. He +would have preferred sunshine; the stand he meant to take would have +had more weight in working weather. But since he could not prevent the +morning from being a rainy one, he permitted more determination to slip +into his tones. + +Martinson had spent an unpleasant evening with Bently Brown, or so he +declared. He had called up several stockholders of the Acme, and had +talked the matter over with them, and-- + +"Well, cut the preamble, Mart," snapped Luck, trying to warm one foot by +rubbing it with the other one. "Do I go on with the work, or don't I?" + +"From the looks of the weather--" Mart began to temporize. + +"Weather cuts no figure with this matter. You know what I mean. What's +the decision?" Luck scowled at the pretty girl on his wall calendar, and +began to rub his right foot with the left and to curse the janitor with +that part of his brain not occupied with the conversation. + +"Well, listen. You come out to the office, after awhile, and we'll go +into this matter calmly," begged Martinson. "No use in letting that +temper of yours run away with you, Luck. You know we all--" + +"What did Bently Brown say? Did you put the proposition up to him as I +suggested?" + +"Luck, you know I told you Brown wouldn't consider--" + +"Say, Mart, get all those rambling words out of your system, and then +call me up and tell me what I want to know!" And Luck hung up the +receiver and went shivering back to bed. From the things he said to +himself, he was letting that temper of his run away with him in spite of +Martinson's warning. + +He had just ceased having spasms of shivering, and had found his warm +nest of the night, and was feeling glad that it was raining so that he +could stay in bed as long as he liked, when the phone jingled shrilly +again. Had he been certain that it was Martinson, Luck would have lain +there and let it ring itself tired. But there is always the doubt when a +telephone bell calls peremptorily. He waited sulkily until the girl at +the switchboard in the office below settled down to prolong the siege. +Luck knew that girl would never quit now that she was sure he was in. He +crawled out again, this time dragging the bedspread with him for drapery. + +"H'l-lo!" There was no compromise in his voice, which was guttural. + +"Luck? This is Martinson. You are to retake all of the Bently Brown +pictures which you have made so far, under the personal supervision of +Bently Brown himself, who will pass upon all film before accepted by the +company. This is final." + +"Martinson? This is Luck. You and Bently Brown and the Acme Film Company +can go where the heat's never turned off. This is final." + +Whereupon Luck slammed the receiver into its brackets, trailed over to a +table and gleaned "the makings" from among the litter of papers, +programs, "stills," and letters, and rolled himself a much-needed smoke. +He was sorry chiefly because he had been compelled to use such mild +language over the telephone. It would be almost worth a trip to the +office just to tell Martinson without stint what he thought of him and +all his works. + +He crawled back into bed and smoked his cigarette with due regard for the +bedclothes, and wondered what kind of a fool they took him for if they +imagined for one minute that he would produce so much as a sub-title +under the personal supervision of Bently Brown. + +After awhile it occurred to him that, unless he relented from his final +statement to Martinson, he was a young man out of a job, but that did not +worry him much. Of course, if he left the Acme Company, he would have to +look around for an opening somewhere else, where he could take his Happy +Family and maybe produce.... + +Right there Luck got up and unlocked his trunk, which was also his chest +of treasures, and found the carbon copy of his range scenario. He had +not named it yet. In thinking of it and in talking about it with the +boys he had been content to call it his Big Picture. If he could place +himself and his Big Picture and his boys with some company that would +appreciate the value of the combination, his rupture with the Acme +Company would be simply a bit of good luck. While he huddled close to +the radiator that was beginning to hiss and rumble encouragingly, he +glanced rapidly over the meagerly described scenes which were to his +imagination so full of color. + +"Pam. bleak mesa--snow--cattle drifting before wind. Dale and Johnny dis. +riding to foreground. Reg. cold--horses leg-weary--boys all in--" + +To Luck, sitting there in his pajamas as close as he could get to a +slow-warming steam radiator, those curtailed sentences projected his +mental self into a land of cold and snow and biting wind, where the +cattle drifted dismally before the storm. Andy Green and Miguel Rapponi +were riding slowly toward him on shuffling horses as bone-weary as their +masters. Snow was packed in the wrinkles of the boys' clothing. Snow was +packed in the manes and tails of the horses that moved with their heads +drooping in utter dejection. "Boys all in," said the script laconically. +Luck, staring at the little thread of escaping steam from the radiator +valve, saw Andy and the Native Son drooping in the saddles, swaying +stiffly with the movements of their mounts. He saw them to the last +little detail,--to the drift of snow on their hatbrims and the tiny +icicles clinging to the high collars of their sourdough coats, where +their breath had frozen. + +If he could get a company to let him put that on, he would not care, he +told himself, if he never made another picture in his life. If he could +get a company to send him and the boys where that stuff could be found-- + +Well, it was only eight o'clock in the morning, a rainy morning at that, +when all good movie people would lie late in bed for the pure luxury of +taking their ease. But Luck, besides acting upon strong convictions and +then paying the price without whimpering, never let an impulse grow stale +from want of use. He reached for the fat telephone directory and searched +out the numbers of those motion-picture companies which he did not +remember readily. Then, beginning at the first number on his hastily +compiled list, he woke five different managers out of their precious +eight-o'clock sleep to answer his questions. + +Whatever they may have thought of Luck Lindsay just then, they replied +politely, and did not tell him offhand that there was no possible opening +for him in their companies. Three of them made appointments with him at +their offices. One promised to call him up just as soon as he "had a line +on anything." One said that, with the rainy weather coming on, they were +cutting down to straight studio stuff, but that he would keep Luck in +mind if anything turned up. + +Then I suppose the whole five called him names behind his back, +figuratively speaking, for being such an early riser on such a day. Not +one of them asked him any questions about his reasons for leaving the +Acme; reasons, in the motion-picture business, are generally invented +upon demand and have but a fictitious value at best. And since it is +never a matter of surprise when any director or any member of any company +decides to try a new field, it would seem that change is one of the most +unchanging features of the business. + +Luck had no qualms of conscience, either for his treatment of Martinson +and his overtures, or for his disturbances of five other perfectly +inoffensive movie managers. He dressed with mechanical precision and with +his mind shuttling back and forth from his Big Picture to the +possibilities of his next position. He folded his scenario and placed it +in a long envelope, hunted until he found his rubbers, took his raincoat +over his arm and his umbrella in his hand, and went blithely to the +elevator. It was too stormy for his machine, so he caught a street car +and went straight to the bungalow where the Happy Family were still +snoring at peace with the world and each other. + +Still Luck had no qualms of conscience. He lingered in the kitchen just +long enough to say howdy to Rosemary Green who was anxiously watching a +new and much admired coffee percolator "to see if it were going to perk," +she told him gravely. He assured Rosemary that he had come all the way +out there in the hope of being invited to breakfast. Then he went into a +sleep-charged atmosphere and gave a real, old-time range yell. + +"Why, I saw that peaked little person with Mr. Martinson," Mrs. Andy +remarked slightingly at the breakfast table. "Was that Bently Brown? +And he has the nerve to want to stand around and boss you--oh, find, me +an umbrella, somebody! I shall choke if I can't go and tell him to his +silly, pink face what a conceited little idiot he is!" (You will see +why it was that Rosemary Green had been adopted without question as a +member of the Happy Family.) "I hope you told him straight out, Luck +Lindsay, that these boys would simply tear him limb from limb if he +ever dared to butt in on your work. Why, it's you that made the picture +fit to look at!" + +Luck let his eyes thank her for her loyalty, and held out his empty cup +for more coffee. "I came out," he drawled quietly, "to find out what you +fellows are going to do about it. Of course, they'll get somebody else to +go ahead with the stuff, and you boys can stay with it--" + +"Well, say! Did you come away out here in the rain to insult us fellers?" +Big Medicine roared suddenly from the foot of the table. "I'll take a lot +from you, but by cripes they's got to be a line drawed somewheres!" + +"You bet. And right there's where we draw it, Luck," spoke up the dried +little man who seldom spoke at the table, but concentrated his attention +upon the joy of eating what Mrs. Andy set before him. "I come out here +to work for you. That peters out, by gorry I'll go back to chufferin a +baggage truck in Sioux, North Dakoty. Kin I have a drop more coffee, +Mrs. Green?" + +While Rosemary proudly brought her new percolator in from the kitchen and +refilled his cup, Luck Lindsay sat and endured the greatest +tongue-lashing of his life. Furthermore, he seemed to enjoy the chorus of +reproaches and threats and recriminations. He chuckled over the eloquence +of Andy Green, and he grinned at the belligerence of Pink and the +melancholy of Happy Jack. + +"I don't guess you're crazy to work under Bently Brown," he finally +managed to slide into the uproar. "Do I get you as meaning to stick with +me--wherever I go?" + +"You get us that way or you get licked," Weary, the mild-tempered one, +stated flatly. "You can fire us and send us home, but you can't walk off +and leave us with the Acme, 'cause we won't stay." + +That was what Luck had ridden twelve cold, rainy miles to hear the Happy +Family declare. He had expected them to take that stand, but it was good +to hear it spoken in just that tone of finality. He stacked his cup and +saucer in his plate, laid his knife and fork across them in the old range +style, and began to roll a cigarette,--smoking at the table being another +comfortable little bad habit which Rosemary Green wisely and smilingly +permitted. + +"That being the case," he began cheerfully, "you boys had best go over +with me now and give in your two weeks' notice. I'm director of our +company till I quit--see? I'll arrange for your transportation home--" + +"Aw, gwan! Who said we was goin' home?" wailed Happy Jack distressfully. + +"Now, listen! You're entitled to your transportation money. That doesn't +mean you'll have to use it for that purpose--sabe? It's coming to you, +and you get it. There's a week's salary due all around, too, besides the +two weeks you'll get by giving notice. No use passing up any bets like +that. So let's go, boys. I've got an appointment at one o'clock, and I +may as well wipe the Acme slate clean this forenoon, so I can talk +business without any come-back from Mart, or any tag ends to pick up. +Grab your slickers and let's move." + +That was a busy day for Luck Lindsay, in spite of the fact that it was a +stormy one. His interview with Mart, which he endured mostly for the sake +of the Happy Family, developed into a quarrel which severed beyond +mending his connection with the Acme. + +It was noon when he reached his hotel, and his wrath had not cooled with +the trip into town. There were two 'phone calls in his mail, he +discovered, and one bore an urgent request that he call Hollywood +something-or-other the moment he returned. This was from the Great +Western Film Company, and Luck's eyes brightened while he read it. He +went straight to his room and called up the Great Western. + +Presently he found himself speaking to the great Dewitt himself, and his +blood was racing with the possibilities of the interview. Dewitt had +heard that Luck was leaving the Acme--extras may be depended upon for +carrying gossip from one studio to another,--and was wasting no time in +offering him a position. His Western director, Robert Grant Burns whom +Luck knew well, had been carried to the hospital with typhoid fever which +he had contracted while out with his company in what is known as Nigger +Sloughs,--a locality more picturesque than healthful. Dewitt feared that +it was going to be a long illness at the very best. Would Luck consider +taking the company and going on with the big five-reel feature which +Burns had just begun? Dewitt was prepared to offer special inducements +and to make the position a permanent one. He would give Burns a dramatic +company to produce features at the studio, he said, and would give Luck +the privilege of choosing his own scenarios and producing them in his own +way. Could Luck arrange to meet Dewitt at four that afternoon? + +Luck could, by cancelling his appointment with a smaller and less +important company, which he did promptly and with no compunctions +whatever. He did more than that; he postponed the other two appointments, +knowing in his heart that his chances would not be lessened thereby. +After that he built a castle or two while he waited for the appointment. +The Great Western Company had been a step higher than he had hoped to +reach. Robert Grant Burns he had considered a fixture with the company. +It had never entered his mind that he might possibly land within the +Great Western's high concrete wall,--and that other wall which was higher +and had fewer gates, and which was invisible withal. That the great +Dewitt himself should seek Luck out was just a bit staggering. He wanted +to go out and tell the bunch about it, but he decided to wait until +everything was settled. Most of all he wanted the Acme to know that +Dewitt wanted him; that would be a real slap in the face of Mart's +judgment, a vindication of Luck's abilities as a director. + +What Luck did was to telephone the hospital and learn all he could about +Burns' condition. He was genuinely sorry that Burns was sick, even though +he was mightily proud of being chosen as Burns' successor. He even found +himself thinking more about Burns, after the first inner excitement wore +itself out, than about himself. Burns was a good old scout. Luck hated to +think of him lying helpless in the grip of typhoid. So it was with mixed +emotions that he went to see Dewitt. + +Dewitt wanted Luck--wanted him badly. He was frank enough to let Luck see +how much he wanted him. He even told Luck that, all things being equal, +he considered Luck a better Western director than was Robert Grant Burns, +in spite of the fact that Burns had scored a big success with his _Jean, +of the Lazy A_ serial. You cannot wonder that Luck's spirits rose to +buoyancy when he heard that. Also, Dewitt named a salary bigger than Luck +had ever received in his life, and nearly double what the Acme had paid +him. Luck spoke of his Big Picture, and when he outlined it briefly, +Dewitt did not say that it seemed to lack action. + +Dewitt had watched Luck with his keen blue eyes, and had observed that +Luck owned that priceless element of success, which is enthusiasm for his +work. Dewitt had listened, and had told Luck that he would like to see +the Big Picture go on the screen, and that he would be willing to pay him +for the scenario and let him make it where and how he pleased. He even +volunteered to try and persuade Jean Douglas, of _Lazy A_ fame, to come +back and play the leading woman's part. + +"That's one thing that has been bothering me a little," Luck owned +gratefully. "Of course I considered her absolutely out of reach. But with +her for my leading woman, and the boys holding up the range end as +they're capable of doing--" + +Dewitt gave him a quick look. "Yes, my boys are able to do that," he said +distinctly. "They have been well trained in Western dramatic work." + +Luck braced himself. "When I mentioned the boys," he said, "I meant +my boys that I brought from the Flying U outfit, up in Montana. They +go with me." + +Dewitt did not answer that statement immediately. He inspected his finger +nails thoughtfully before he glanced up. "It's a pity, but I'm afraid +that cannot be managed, Mr. Lindsay. The boys in my Western company have +been with me, some of them, since the Independent Sales Company was +organized. They worked for next to nothing till I got things started. Two +or three are under contracts. You will understand me when I say that my +boys must stay where they are." He waited for a minute, and watched +Luck's face grow sober. "I have heard about your Happy Family," he added. +"There has been a good deal of discussion, I imagine, among the studios +about them. Ordinarily I should be glad to have you bring those boys with +you; but as matters stand, it is impossible. Our Western Company is full, +and I could not let these boys go to make room for strangers,--however +good those strangers might be. You understand?" + +"Certainly I understand." But Luck's face did not brighten. + +"Can't they stay on with the Acme? From what I hear, the Acme's Western +Company is not large at best." + +"They can stay, yes. But they won't. The whole bunch gave in their +two weeks' notice this morning." There was a grim satisfaction in +Luck's tone. + +"Left when you did, I suppose?" + +"That's just exactly what they did. I told them they better stay, and +they nearly lynched me for it." + +"Have you made any agreement with them in regard to placing them with +another company--for instance?" + +"Certainly not. Some things don't have to be set down in black and +white." + +"I--see." Dewitt did see. What he saw worried him, even though it +increased his respect for Luck Lindsay. He studied his nails more +critically than before. + +"These boys--have they any resources at all, other than their work in +pictures? Did they burn their bridges when they came with you?" + +"Oh, far as that goes, they've all got ranches. They wouldn't starve." +Luck's voice was inclined to gruffness under quizzing. + +"As I see the situation," Dewitt went on evenly and with a logic that +made Luck squirm with its very truthfulness, "they left their ranches and +came with you to work in pictures in a spirit of adventure, we might say. +There is a glamour; and your personal influence, your enthusiasm, had its +effect. Should they go back to their ranches now, they would carry back a +fresh outlook and a fund of experiences that would season conversation +agreeably for months to come. They will not have lost financially, I take +it. They will have had a vacation which has in many ways been a +profitable one. Should the question be laid before them, I venture the +assertion that they would urge you to take this position with us. + +"They would feel some disappointment of course--just as you would feel +sorry not to be able to bring them with you. But no reasonable man would +blame you or expect you to bear the handicap of six or seven +inexperienced young fellows. You must see that your only hope of placing +them would be with some new company just starting up. And this is not the +season for young companies. Next spring you might stand a better chance." + +"Yes, that's all true enough," Luck admitted, since Dewitt plainly +expected some reply. "At the same time--" + +"There is no immediate need of a decision," Dewitt hastily completed +Luck's sentence. "From all weather reports, this storm is going to be a +long one. I doubt very much if you could get to work for several days. +I wish you would think it over from all sides before you accept or +refuse the proposition, Mr. Lindsay. Lay the matter before your boys; +tell them frankly just how things stand. I'll guarantee they will +insist upon your accepting the position. I know, and you know, that it +will give you a better opportunity than you have had in some time. And +I am going to say candidly that I believe you need only the opportunity +to make your work stand out above all the others. That is why I sent +for you this morning. I believe you have big possibilities, and I want +you with the Great Western." + +There was that instant of silence which terminates all conferences. Then +Luck rose, and Dewitt tilted back his office chair and swung it away from +the desk so that he was still facing Luck. So the two looked at each +other measuringly for a moment. + +"I certainly appreciate your good opinion of me, Mr. Dewitt," Luck said. +"Whether I take the place or not, I want to thank you for offering it to +me. It all looks fine--the chance of my life; but I can't--" + +"No, don't say any more." Dewitt raised his hand. "You do as I +suggest; tell the boys just what has passed, if you like. Let them +decide for you." + +"No, that wouldn't be fair. They'd decide for my interests and forget +about their own. I know that." + +"Well, let's just wait a day or two. You think it over. Think what you +could do with Jean Douglas, for instance. I'll try and get her back; I +think perhaps I can. She's married, but I think they'll both come if I +make it worth their while. Come and see me day after to-morrow, will you? +We'll say four o'clock again. Good-by." + +So Luck went away with temptation whispering in his ear. + + + + +CHAPTER NINE + +LEAVE IT TO THE BUNCH + + +Not a word did Luck say to the Happy Family about his big opportunity. +Instead, he avoided them half guiltily, and he filled the next day and +the one after that by seeing, or trying to see, the head of every motion +picture company in that part of the State. He even sent a night letter to +a big company at Santa Barbara. Always he stipulated that he must take +his own cowboys with him and have a free hand in the production of +Western pictures--since he did not mean to risk having another irate +author descend upon him with threats of a lawsuit. + +By three o'clock of the day when he was to give Dewitt his decision, +Luck was convinced that the two conditions he never failed to mention +were as two iron bars across every trail that might otherwise have been +open to him. No motion picture company seemed to feel that it needed +seven inexperienced men on its payroll. A few general managers +suggested letting them work as extras, but the majority could not see +the proposition at all. They were more willing to give Luck the free +hand which he demanded, had negotiations ever reached that far, which +they did not. + +The Happy Family, Luck was forced to admit to himself, was a very serious +handicap for an out-of-work director to carry at the beginning of the +rainy season. He did his best, and he spent two sleepless nights over the +doing, but he simply could not land them anywhere. He talked himself +hoarse for them, he painted them geniuses all; he declared that they +would make themselves and their company--supposing they were +accepted--famous for Western pictures. He worked harder to place them in +the business than he would ever work to find himself a job, and he failed +absolutely. + +Dewitt's eyes questioned him the moment he stood inside the office. +Dewitt had heard something of Luck's efforts since their last meeting; +and although he admired Luck the more for his loyalty, he felt quite +certain that now he was convinced of his defeat, Luck would hesitate no +longer over stepping into the official shoes of Robert Grant Burns, who +was lying on his broad back, and shouting pitifully futile commands to +his company and asking an imaginary camera-man questions which were as +Greek to the soft-footed nurse. Dewitt, having just come from a visit to +Burns, had a vivid mental picture of that ward in the Sister's hospital. +But alongside that picture was another, quite as vivid, of Luck Lindsay +standing beside Pete Lowry's camera with a script in his hand, explaining +to Jean Douglas the business of some particular scene. + +"Well?" queried Dewitt, and motioned Luck to a chair. + +"Well," Luck echoed, and stopped for a breath. "No use wasting time, Mr. +Dewitt. I can't take any position that doesn't include the Flying U boys. +I'm certainly sorry that prevents my accepting your offer. I appreciate +all it would mean for me and for my Big Picture to be with you. But--some +things mean more--" + +"You're under no obligations to tie your own hands just because theirs +are not free," Dewitt reminded him sharply. + +"I know I'm not." + +"Can you figure where it will be to their advantage for you to refuse a +good position just because they happen to be out of work?" + +"I'm not trying to figure anything like that. Some things don't have to +be figured. Some things just are! Do you see what I mean? Those boys +didn't wait to do any figuring. When I quit the Acme, they quit--just as +a matter of course. If I were as loyal to them as they have been to me, +Mr. Dewitt, I wouldn't have taken two days to give you my answer. I'd +have told you day before yesterday what I'm telling you now." + +Dewitt did not reply at once. When he did speak he seemed to be answering +an argument within himself. + +"I can't let my own boys go to make room for yours. That is absolutely +out of the question. There is a little matter of loyalty there, also." + +"I know there is. I don't know that I should want you to let them go. +We're both in the same position almost. And we're at a deadlock, Mr. +Dewitt. I'm certainly sorry that I can't sign up with you." + +"So am I, young man. So am I. Come back if things shape themselves so you +can see your way clear to directing my Western company. I've an idea your +boys will be going back to their ranches before the holidays. In case +they do, let me hear from you." + +That was more than Luck had any right to expect, and he had the sense to +realize it. He thanked Dewitt and promised, and went away with something +of a load off his mind. He could go now and face the Happy Family without +feeling himself another Judas. + +He found them sitting around waiting for their supper and trying to +invent new words to fit their disgust with the Acme Film Company. They +greeted Luck as though they had not seen him for a month. + +"Bully for you, Luck!" Andy shouted, and gave him an approving slap on +the shoulder that sent him skating dangerously toward the table. "Best +job in town just came a-running up to you and says, 'Please take me!'--so +they say. That right?" + +"Yeah--what about this here Great Western gitting its loop on you first +thing?" bawled Big Medicine gleefully. "By cripes, that's sure one on the +Acme bunch! They'll wisht they wasn't quite so fresh, givin' that little +tin imitation of an author so much rope. Me 'n' Pink was over to the +studio to-day; honest to grandma, they was a sick lookin' bunch around +there. Me 'n' Pink sure throwed it into 'em too, about letting the only +real man they had git away from 'em the way they done." + +"My gorry, son, I sure am tickled to see yuh light with both feet +under yuh, like they say you done. I heard tell the Great Western's +going to let yuh put on your own pitcher; I guess them Acme folks'll +feel kinda foolish when they see it," declared the dried little man, +grinning over his pipe. + +Luck was fighting his bewilderment and framing a demand for explanations +when Rosemary bustled in from the kitchen. + +"Oh, but we're glad, Luck Lindsay!" she began in her quick, emphatic way. +"We all feel like a million dollars over your good luck. We're going to +have fried chicken and strawberry shortcake for supper, too, just for a +celebration. I knew you'd come out and tell us all about it. So sit right +down, everybody, and keep still so Luck can tell us just what everybody +said to the other fellow, and how Dewitt happened to get hold of him so +quickly. Is it true? The boys heard you were going to get two hundred +dollars a week!" + +"Not get it--no." Luck unfolded his napkin with fingers that shook a +little. "I was offered it, but I'm not going to take it." + +"Not--why, Luck Lindsay!" Rosemary very nearly dropped her new +percolator. + +"_Y' ain't_?" + +"Aw, gwan! Only reason I wouldn't take two hundred a week would be +because I'd drop dead at the chance and couldn't." + +"Well, listen. There's one point that hasn't spilled into studio gossip +yet," Luck managed to slip into the uproar. "I didn't take the place. +There were some details we couldn't get together on, so I thanked him and +turned it down." + +There was silence, while the Happy Family stared at him. + +"What dee-tails was them?" Big Medicine demanded belligerently. "Way I +heard it--" + +"Studio gossip," Luck interrupted hastily. "You can't depend on anything +you hear passed around amongst the extras. We failed to agree on certain +technical details. I haven't any more job than a jack rabbit; let it go +at that. What have you fellows been doing?" + +"Us? Why, the Acme's goin' to give us absent, treatment from now on," +Andy stated cheerfully. "They're paying us thirty a week apiece to stay +away from 'em--and I sure never earned money easier than that. Clements +is going to take orders from that so-called author, and he told me +straight out that they'll be using actors in those stories." + +"They'll need 'em," Luck commented drily. "You're in luck that they don't +want you to work. Any other news?" + +"You bet they's other news!" roared Big Medicine, goggling across the +table at Luck. "I rustled me a job, by cripes! Soon as this rain's +over, I'm goin' to cash in my face fer two dollars a day with the +Sunset. Feller over there wants me bad fer atmosphere in a pitcher he's +goin' to make of the Figy Islands. Feller claims he can clothe me in a +nigger wig and a handful of grass and get more atmosphere, by cripes, +to the square inch--" + +Rosemary gasped and bolted for the kitchen. When she came back, red-faced +and still gurgling spasmodically, Pink was relating his experiences with +another company. He and the Native Son and Weary, it transpired, were +duly enrolled upon the extra list and were reasonably sure of a day's +work now and then. Rosemary had paid her Japanese maid and let her go, +and Andy was going to help her with the housework until the industrial +problem was solved. She listened for a minute and then made a suggestion +of her own. + +"We're all in the same boat," she said, "and by just sticking together, I +know we'll come out swimmingly. Why don't you leave the hotel, and come +out here and batch with us, Luck? It would be so much cheaper; and I can +turn that couch in the kitchen into a bed, easy as anything. I'd like to +shake that Great Western Company for acting the way they have with you. +Think of offering a man a two-hundred-a-week position and then +haggling--" + +"Say, Luck," the dried little man spoke up suddenly, "how much does one +of them there camaries cost? I'd be willin' to chip in and help buy one; +and, by gorry, we could make some movin' pitchers of our own and sell +'em, if we caji't do no better." He craned his neck and peered the length +of the table at Luck. "Ain't no law ag'in it, is there?" he challenged. + +"No, there's no law against it." Luck closed his lips against further +comment. The idea was like a sudden blow upon the door of his +imagination. + +The Happy Family looked at one another inquiringly. They had never +thought of doing anything like that. The dried little man may have +meditated much upon the subject, but he certainly had not given a hint of +it to any of them. + +"Oh, why couldn't you boys do that?" Rosemary exclaimed breathlessly. + +Luck stirred his coffee carefully and did not look up. "Don't run away +with the idea that you can buy a camera for twenty or thirty dollars," he +quelled. "A camera, complete with tripod, lenses, magazines, and cases, +would cost about fourteen hundred dollars--at least." + +That, as he had expected it to do, rather feazed the Happy Family for a +few minutes. They became interested in the food they were eating, and +their eyes did not stray far from their plates. + +"I can ante two hundred," Weary remarked at last with elaborate +carelessness, reaching for more butter. + +"See yuh and raise yuh fifty," Andy Green retorted briskly. "I've got a +wife that's learning me to save money." + +"You can count my chips for all I got." Pink's dimples showed briefly. +"I'll go through my pockets when I get filled up, and see how rich I am. +But, anyway, there's a couple of hundred I know I've got,--counting Acme +handouts and all." + +"We-ell--" the dried little man laid down his fork to rub his chin +thoughtfully, "I never had much call to spend money in Sioux, +North-Dakoty. I batched and lived savin'. I can put in half of that +fourteen hundred--mebby a little mite more." + +"Well, by cripes, I got a boy t' look out fer, and I ain't rich as some, +but all I got goes in the pot!" cried Big Medicine impulsively. + +Luck leaned back in his chair and regarded the flushed faces +enigmatically. "This is all good material for an argument on our +financial standing," he said, "but if you're taking yourselves seriously, +let me tell you something before you go any farther. Buying a camera is +only a starter. Besides, I wouldn't play with little stuff and compete +with these big, established companies releasing on regular programs. Say, +for the sake of argument, that we cooperate and go into this; all I'd +handle would be features,--State's rights stuff. (Make big four-or-five +reelers, and sell the rights in as many States as possible; that's what +it amounts to.) But it isn't a thing to play with, boys. Let's do our +joking about something else." + +Rosemary set her two elbows upon the table, clasped her hands together, +and dropped her chin upon them so that she was looking at Luck from under +her eyebrows. That pose meant determination and an argumentative mood. + +"I've been doing a little mental arithmetic," she began. "Also I've done +a little thinking. I know now what spoiled that Great Western offer for +you, Luck Lindsay. It was because they wouldn't take the boys too. And +you turned it down because you--oh, they're the 'technical details,' +young man! You see? Your eyes give you away. I knew it, once the idea +popped into my head. What do you think of a fellow like that, boys? +Refused a two-hundred-a-week position because he couldn't get you fellows +a job too." + +"That two hundred seems to worry you a good deal," Luck muttered, crimson +to his collar. + +"Now don't interrupt, because I shall keep right on talking just the +same. I've a lot more to say. Do you realize that the donations these +boys have made already amounts to over fifteen hundred dollars? And that +does not include Happy Jack or Miguel, because they haven't--" + +"Aw, gwan! I never had a chanct to git a word in edgeways," Happy +hurriedly defended his seeming parsimony. "I'm willin' to chip in." + +"Well, the point is this: Why not all put in what you can, and just go +out where there are cattle, and make your Big Picture, Luck Lindsay? We +could live in the country cheaper than we can here: and there wouldn't be +anything to buy but grub,--just a bag of beans and some flour and coffee. +I'd be willing to starve for the sake of making that Big Picture!" + +"By gracious, there's our transportation money, too!" Andy broke another +short silence. "Three hundred and fifty, right there in a lump." + +"Let it stay transportation money, too!" Rosemary advised quickly. "It +can transport you fellows to where Luck wants to make his picture." + +They waited then for Luck to speak, but he was too busy thinking. On his +shoulders would rest the responsibility of the outfit. On his word they +would rely absolutely and without question. It was no light matter to +lead these men into a venture which would take their time, more hard, +heart-breaking work than they could possibly foresee, and the last dollar +they possessed. He was sorely tempted to try it, but for their sakes he +knew he must not let their enthusiasm sweep away his sober judgment. Had +they owned but half his experience it would be different; but their very +ignorance of the game hampered his decision. + +"Well, boss, how about it?" Andy urged. "Are yuh game to try her a whirl? +We haven't got much, but what we've got is yours if you want to tackle +it. We'll be right with you--till hell's no bigger than a bullet ladle." + +"That's just what holds me back. I'd certainly hate to lead you up +against a losing proposition, boys. And if I went into it, I'd go in over +my eyebrows; if I didn't make good I wouldn't have the price of a tag on +a ten-cent sack of Bull Durham when I quit; so I couldn't pay you back--" + +"Aw, thunder! Think we never set into a poker game in our lives? Think +we're in the habit of hollerin' for our chips back when we lose? What's +the matter with yuh, anyway?" cried Big Medicine wrathfully. + +"Why, of course we share the risk of losing!" Rosemary scowled at him +indignantly. "We'll go in over our eyebrows, too,--and stand on our toes +long as we can, to keep our scalp locks showing above water!" Her brown +eyes twinkled a swift glance around the table. "If you think these boys +are quitters, Luck Lindsay, you just ought to have been around when they +were hanging on to their homesteads! I could tell you things--" + +"You say buying a camera is just a starter. How much do you figure it +would cost to make our Big Picture? Cutting out salaries and all such +little luxuries, what would the actual expenses be--making a rough +guess?" Weary leaned forward over his plate and forgot all about his +tempting wedge of shortcake. + +Luck pushed back his plate and smiled his smile. "For the Big Picture," +he began, while the Happy Family leaned to listen, "there'd be the camera +and outfit,--I could pick up some things second hand,--we'll call that +fourteen hundred and fifty. Then there would be at least five thousand +feet of film: perforated raw stock I could get for about three and three +quarter cents a foot. Say a couple, of hundred dollars for that. We'd +need at least three dozen radium flares for our night scenes; they cost +close around twenty dollars a dozen. And one or two light +diffusers,--that's just to get us started with an outfit, remember. Then +there'd be our transportation to Albuquerque, New Mexico. I know that +country, and I know what I can do there. I'd hit straight for a ranch I +know between Bear Canyon and Rincon Arroyo--belongs to an old fellow that +sure is a character, too, in his way. Old bachelor, he is; got some +cattle and horses, and round-pole corrals and the like of that. I know +old Applehead Forrman like I know my right hand; we'd make Applehead's +place our headquarters--see? Exterior stuff we'd have right there, ready +to shoot without any expense. As for interiors,--say! any of you fellows +handy with hammer and saw?" + +"By gracious, we all are!" Andy declared quickly. "We learned our little +lessons when we were building claim shacks for ourselves." + +"Good enough! You boys could be stage mechanics as well as leading men," +Luck grinned. "Add hammers and saws to the outfit. We'd have to build a +few interior sets." + +Rosemary had her eyebrows tied in little knots, she was thinking so fast. +"I'll write the Little Doctor that she can have my silver teaset," she +informed Andy impulsively. "She offered me fifty dollars for it, you +know. That would buy lots of beans!" + +Luck looked at her, but he did not say what was in his mind. Instead he +reached into an inner pocket and drew out his passbook, "I've got +eighteen hundred and ninety-five dollars in the bank," he announced, +reading the figures aloud. "And my car ought to bring three or four +thousand,--if I can find the man that tried to buy it a month or so +before I took the Injuns back. She's a pippin, boys!--" + +"Oh, your lovely, big, white machine!" wailed Rosemary. "Would you have +to sell it, Luck? Couldn't we squeak along without that?" + +"Aw, you don't want to sell your car!" Pink protested. "I know where I +can borrow two or three hundred. Maybe the Old Man--" + +"We'll put this thing through alone, if we do it at all," Luck told him +bluntly. "Can't afford to work with borrowed capital; the risk is too +great. Sure, I'll sell the car. I was thinking of it, anyway," he +testified falsely but reassuringly. "We'll need every cent I can raise. +There's chemicals and Lord knows what all; and when we come to making our +prints and marketing, why--" he threw out both hands expressively. "If we +land in Albuquerque with five thousand dollars and our outfit, we won't +have a cent to throw away. At that, we'll have to squeeze every nickel +till it hollers, before we're through. Believe me, boys, this is going to +be some undertaking!" + +"Nice, comfortable way you've got of painting things cheerful," the +Native Son drawled ironically. + +"That's all right. I want you to realize what it's going to be like +before you get in so far you can't back out." + +"Aw, who's said anything about backing out?" Happy Jack grumbled. + +"Let's get right down to brass tacks and see how strong we can go on +money," Andy suggested, pulling a pencil out of an inner pocket. "Here, +girl, you do the bookkeeping while we call off the size of our pile. Put +'er down in this book till you can get another one. You can set me down +for two seventy-five--or make it three hundred. I can scrape it up, all +right. How about you, Pink? This is hard-boiled figures, now, and no +guess work." + +Pink blew a mouthful of smoke while he did a little mental calculation. +Then he took his twisted-leather purse and emptied it into his saucer. He +investigated all his pockets and added eighty-five cents in small change. +Then he gravely began to count, not disdaining three pennies in the pile. +"I've got seventy-five dollars in the bank," he said. "Add ninety dollars +salary, and you have a hundred and sixty-five. Add six dollars and +eighty-seven cents, and you have--my pile." + +Rosemary twisted her lips and wrote the figures opposite Pink's name. +Next came Weary, then Miguel and Big Medicine and the dried little man +who chewed violently upon a wooden toothpick and said he was good for +eight hundred, and mebby a little mite more. + +They pushed their plates to the table's center to make room for their +gesticulating hands and uneasy elbows while they planned ways and means. +They argued over trivial points and left the big ones for Luck to settle. +They talked of light effects and wholesale grocery lists and ray filters +and smoke pots and railroad fares and the problem of cutting down their +baggage so as to avoid paying excess charges. Luck, once he had taken the +mental plunge into the deep waters of so hazardous an enterprise, began +to exhibit a most amazing knowledge of the details of picture making. + +To save money, he told them, he would be his own camera man. He could do +without a "still" camera, because he would enlarge clippings from the +different scenes in the negative instead. They'd have to manage the range +stuff with only one camera, which would mean more work to get the various +effects. But with a telephoto lens and a wide angle lens he could come +pretty near putting it over the way he wanted it. "And there'll be no +more blank ammunition, boys," he told them. "So you want to fit +yourselves out with real shells. I'm not going very strong on this +foreground bullet-effect stuff; we can afford to leave that for the +Western four-flushers that can't do anything else. But she's some wild +down where we'll be located, so we'll not be packing empty guns, at that. + +"And there's another thing," he went on, talking and making notes at the +same time. "If we're going to do this, we can't get started any too +soon. We may be able to hit a late round-up and get some scenes, which +will save rounding up stock ourselves for it. And there's all that +winter stuff to make, too; we haven't any more time to throw away than +we have money." + +"Well, we're ready to hit the trail any time you are," Andy declared. +"To-morrow, if yuh say so. You go ahead with your end of it, Luck, and +I'll be straw boss here in camp and get the outfit packed and ready to +ship outa here on an hour's notice. I can do it, too--believe me!" + +"Do you know," said Rosemary, "I'd let James and Weary buy our winter's +supplies and have them sent by freight right on to where we're going. +Things are awfully cheap here. I'll make out a list, and the boys can +attend to that to-morrow. And I'll bake up a lot of stuff for lunches on +the train, too. We're not going to squander money in the dining car." + +"Say, we'll just borry one of them dray teams from the Acme corral, by +cripes, and haul our own stuff to the depot!" Big Medicine exclaimed with +enthusiasm. "Save us four or five dollars right there!" + +Luck rose and reached for his umbrella as though he had just recalled an +important engagement. "I think I know where to find a buyer for my +machine," he said, "so I'll just get on his trail. To-morrow I'll start +getting my camera outfit together. Andy, I'll turn this end of the +expedition over to you; that idea of getting food supplies here is all +right, within certain limits. Don't buy any cheap, weighty stuff here, +because the freight will eat up all you save. But I'll leave that to you +folks; I guess you've had experience enough--" + +"Considering most of us learned our _a-b-c's_ outa Montgomery-Ward +catalogues," Weary observed with a quirk of the lips, "I guess you can +safely leave it to the bunch. Range kids are brought up on them +Wind-river bibles, as we call mail order catalogues. I'll bet you I can +give offhand the freight on anything you can name, from a hair hackamore +to a gang plow." + +"Fly at it, then," laughed Luck, with his hand on the doorknob. "I am +going to be some busy myself. I'll just turn over the transportation +problem to you folks. _Adios_." + +"Prepare to ride in the chair car," Rosemary called after him warningly. +"Even a tourist sleeper is going to be too luxurious for us; we're going +to squeeze nickels till they just squeal!" + +Luck held the door open while he smiled approvingly at her. "That'll be +playing the game right from the start. _Adios_, folks." + + + + +CHAPTER TEN + +UNEXPECTED GUESTS FOR APPLEHEAD + + +Applehead Forrman was worried over his cat, Compadre, which is Spanish +for comrade or something of that sort. It was a blue cat and it was a +big cat, and it had a bellicose disposition, and Applehead was anxious +because it had lately declared war on a neighboring coyote and had not +come out of the battle unscathed. Applehead had heard the disturbance +and had gone out with a rifle and dispersed the coyote, but not until +Compadre had lost half of his tail and a good deal of his +self-assurance. Since that night, almost a week ago, Compadre had been a +changed cat. He had sought dark corners and had yowled when the best +friend he had in the world tried to coax him out to his meals. Applehead +was very patient and very sympathetic, and hunted small game with which +to tempt the invalid's appetite. + +On this day he had a fat prairie dog which he had shot, and he was +carrying it around by a hind leg looking for Compadre and calling "Kitty, +kitty, kitty," in the most seductive tones of which his desert-harshened +vocal chords were capable. He looked under the squat adobe cabin which +held all the odds and ends that had accumulated about the place, and +which he called the "ketch-all." He went over and looked under the water +tank where there was shade and coolness. He went to the stable, and from +there he returned to the adobe house, squat like the "ketch-all" but +larger. There was a hole alongside the fireplace chimney at the end next +the hill, and sometimes when Compadre was especially disenchanted with +his world, he went into the hole and nursed his grievances in dark +seclusion under the house. + +Applehead got down upon all fours and called "Kitty, kitty, kitty," with +his face close to the hole. It was past noon, and Compadre had not had +anything to eat since the night before, when he had lapped up half a +saucer of canned milk and had apathetically licked a slice of bacon. +Applehead put his ear to the hole and imagined he heard a faint meow from +a far corner. He pushed the prairie dog into the aperture and called +"Kitty-kitty-kitty" again coaxingly. + +He was so absorbed in his anxious quest that he did not hear the chuckle +of two wagons coming up through the sand to the corral. He did not even +hear the footsteps of men approaching the house. He did not hear +anything at all except a dismal yowl now and then from the darkness. He +contorted his long person that he might peer into the gloom. He pushed +the prairie dog in as far as he could reach. "Come, kitty-kitty-kitty!" +he coaxed. "Doggone your onery soul, I'm gitting tired of this kinda +performance! You can tromp on me just so fur and no further, now I'm +a-tellin' yuh. That there tail of yourn needs a fresh rag tied to it, +and some salve. But I ain't the burrowin' kind of animal, and I ain't +comin' in under there after yuh. Come, kitty-kitty-kitty! Come on outa +there 'fore I send a charge of birdshot in after yuh!" His voice changed +to a tremulous chant of rising anger. "You wall-eyed, mangy, rat-eatin' +son of a gun, what have I been feedin' yuh fur all these years? You come +outa there! If it wasn't for the love uh God I got in my heart, I'll +fill yuh so full of holes the coyotes'll have to make soup of ye! I'll +sure spread yuh out so thin your hide'll measure up like a mountain +lion! Don't yuh yowl at me like that! Come, kitty-kitty-kitty--ni-ice +kitty! Come to your old pard what ketched yuh the fattest young dog on +the flat for your dinner. Come on, now; you ain't skeered uh me, +shorely! Come on, Compadre--ni-ice kitty!" + +"Let me try!" cried Rosemary behind him, her voice startling old +Applehead so that he knocked his head painfully on the rock foundation as +he jerked himself into a more dignified posture. His eyes widened at the +size of the audience grouped behind him, but he had faced more amazing +sights than that in his eventful career. He got stiffly to his feet and +bowed, the prairie dog dangling limply from his hand. + +"Howdy! Howdy! Pleased to meet yuh," he greeted them dazedly. Then he +spied Luck standing half behind Weary's tall form, and his embarrassed +smile changed to a joyful grin. "Well, danged if it ain't Luck! How are +yuh, boy? I was jest thinkin' about you right this morning. What wind +blowed you into camp? Come right on in, folks. If you're friends of +Luck's, yuh don't need no interduction in this camp. Luck and me's et +outa the same skillet months on end together. Come on in. I've et, but +they's plenty left." His blue eyes twinkled quizzically over the Happy +Family and then went to Luck. "What yuh up to this time, boy? 'Nother +wild-west show?" + +While they were waiting for coffee to boil, Luck told him what he was up +to this time. Told him what it was he meant to do in the way of making a +Western picture that should be worthy the West. He did not say a word +about needing Applehead's assistance; he did not need to say a word about +that. Applehead himself saw where he would fit into the scheme, and he +seemed to take it for granted that Luck saw it also. + +"Got all your stuff out from town?" he asked, while he was hunting cups +enough to go around. "If yuh ain't, you can send a couple of the boys in +with a four-horse team after dinner. I d'no about beds, unless yuh got +your own beddin'-rolls with yuh. The missus, she can have a room, and the +rest of yuh will have to knock some bunks together. Mebby we can clean +out the 'ketch-all' and turn that into a bunk house. One I had, it burnt +down last winter; some darn-fool Mexicans got to fightin' in there and +kicked the lamp over. It could have a new roof put on, I reckon; the +walls is there yet. You can take a look around after you eat, and see +what all there is to do. Well, set up, folks; ain't much, but I've +throwed my feet under the table fer less and was thankful to git it, now +I'm a-tellin' yuh!" + +Big Medicine bethought him of the remains of the train lunch which they +had frugally saved. He brought that and added it to Applehead's +impromptu meal. The sandwiches were mashed flat, and the pickles were +limp, and the cake much inclined to crumble, but Applehead gave one look +and took off his hat. + +"I've et, but I can shore eat again when I git my eyes on cake," he +declared exuberantly, and pulled an empty box up to the table for a seat. +"I wisht Compadre could git a smell uh that there fried chicken; it would +put new life into him, which he needs after tangling with that there +coyote 'tother night." + +"We ought to unhitch and give the horses a feed," Luck suggested. "Any +particular place?" + +"Well, you know where to put them cayuses as well as I do," Applehead +mumbled, with his mouth full of cake. "I don't care what yuh do around +the danged place. Go along and don't bother me, boy; I'm busy." + +"Didn't I tell you how it would be?" Luck reminded Andy and Weary when +they were outside. "That old boy is tickled to death to have us here. He +sure is a type, too. I'll be using him in the picture. And just tale a +look at that corral down there! We'll set up camp this afternoon and +round up some horses,--Applehead always keeps a bunch running back here +on the mesa,--and to-morrow morning we'll get to work. A couple of you +will have to take these teams back this afternoon, too. I'll let you +drive the four-horse in, Weary, and lead the other behind. And I'll send +the Native Son in with Applehead's team and wagon, so you can haul out a +thousand feet of lumber for a stage. Get it surfaced one +side,--fourteen-foot boards, sabe? And about twenty-five pounds of +eight-penny nails. We've got the tools in our outfit. I wonder which +pasture Applehead's team is running in. I'll have one of the boys get +them up, unless--" + +"Luck Lindsay!" came Rosemary's high, clear treble. "Aren't you boys +going to eat any dinner?" + +"We'll eat when we have more time!" Luck shouted back. "Send Applehead +out here, will you?" + +Presently Applehead appeared with a large piece of cake in one hand and a +well-picked chicken wing in the other. "What yuh want?" he inquired +lazily, in the tone that implies extreme physical comfort. + +"I want your big team to haul some lumber out from town. Where are they? +If you don't mind catching them up while I help get this stuff unloaded, +we'll have things moving around here directly." + +"Shore I'll ketch 'em up fur ye, soon as I find Compadre and give him +this here bone. He's been kinda off his feed since that coyote clumb his +frame. He was under the house, but I reckon so many strange voices kinda +got his goat. There ain't ary yowl to be got outa that hole no more. +Come, kitty-kitty-kitty!" + +Luck threw out his hands despairingly, and then laughed. Applehead's +tender solicitude for his cat was a fixed characteristic of the man, and +Luck knew there was no profit in argument upon the subject. He began +unloading the lighter pieces of baggage while the boys fed the livery +teams. The others came straggling down from the house, lighting their +after-dinner cigarettes and glancing curiously at the adobe out-buildings +which were so different from anything in Montana. The sagebrush slopes +wore a comfortable air of familiarity, even though the boys were more +accustomed to bunch grass; but an adobe stable was a novelty. + +Fast as they came near him, Luck put them to work. There was plenty to +do before they could even begin work on the Big Picture, but Luck seemed +to have thought out all the details of camp-setting with the same +attention to trifles which he had shown in the making of a picture. In +half an hour he had every one busy, including old Applehead, who, having +located Compadre in the stable loft and left the chicken wing at the top +of the ladder, had saddled his horse and gone off into a far pasture to +bring in all the horses down there, so that Luck could choose whatever +animals he wished to use. Dave Wiswell, the dried little man, was +helping Rosemary wash the dishes and put away the food supplies they had +brought out with them, as fast as Happy Jack could carry them up from +the wagon. Andy Green was ruthlessly emptying the only closet--a roomy +one, fortunately--in the house, and tacking up black paper which Luck +had brought, so that it might serve as a dark room. Big Medicine and +Pink were clearing out the one-roomed adobe cabin which Applehead called +the "ketch-all," so that the boys could sleep there until the bunk-house +was repaired. + +Luck was unpacking his camera and swearing softly to himself while he set +it up, and wishing that his experience as assistant camera-man was not +quite so far in the past. He foresaw difficulties with that camera until +he got in practice, but he did not say anything about it to the others. +He got it together finally, put in the two-hundred-foot magazine of +negative that he had brought with him to use while waiting for his big +order to arrive, made a few light tests, and went up to the house to see +if Andy had the dark room dark enough. + +He found Andy defending himself as best he could from a small domestic +storm. In his anxiety to have that dark room fixed just the way Luck +wanted it, Andy had purloined a shelf which Rosemary needed, and which +she meant to have, if words could restore it to its place behind the +kitchen stove. Andy had the shelf down and was taking out bent nails with +a new hammer when Luck came to the door with his arms full of packages of +chemicals and a ruby lamp. + +"What can a fellow do?" Andy was inquiring plaintively. "There ain't +another board on the place that's the right width. I looked. Luck's got +to have a shelf; you don't expect him to keep all his junk on the floor, +do you? I'm sorry, but I've just got to have it, girl." + +"You've just got to put that shelf back, Andy. Where do you expect me to +put things? There isn't a pantry on the place, and only that one dinky +little cupboard over there. I can't keep my dishes on the floor, and +cooking is going to be pretty important, itself, around this camp!" + +"Soon as the lumber gets here, I'll have Andy build you a cupboard," Luck +soothed her. "You haven't got many conveniences here, and that's a fact. +But we'll get things straightened out, _pronto_. Got any bones or scraps +left, Mrs. Andy? That little black dog that followed us out is here yet. +He didn't go back with the boys. I found him curled up in the wagon shed +just now; poor little devil looks about starved. His ribs stand out worse +than a cow that's wintered on a sheep range." + +With Rosemary's attention diverted to the little black dog, Andy got the +shelf nailed firmly upon the wall of the dark room. And immediately Luck +proceeded to use it to its fullest capacity and announced that he needed +another one, whereat Andy groaned. + +"Say, I'm a brave man, all right, but I don't dare to swipe any more +shelves," he protested. "Not from my wife, anyway. Timber must sure be +scarce in this man's country. I never did see a place so shy of boards as +this ranch is." + +"Well, let's see if there are any barrels," said Luck. "I've been +studying on how to rig up some way to develop my film. If we can find +some half barrels and knock the heads out, I can wind the negative around +them with the emulsion side out, and dip it in the bigger barrels of +developer; see how I mean? Believe me, this laboratory problem is going +to be a big one till I can see my way to getting tanks and film racks out +here. But I believe barrels will work all right. And, say! There's some +old hose I saw out by the windmill tank; you get that, and see if you +can't run it under the house and up through a hole in the floor. I expect +it leaks in forty places, but maybe you can mend it. And we ought to have +some way to run the water out in a trough or something. You see what you +can do about that, Andy, while I go and unpack the rest of my camera +outfit. There's a garret up over the ceiling, here, and you'll have to +see what shape it's in for drying film. Stop all the cracks so dust can't +blow in. I want to start taking scenes to-morrow morning, you know. I've +got two hundred feet of raw stock to work with till the other gets here. +I've got to develop my tests before to-morrow so I'll know what I'm +doing. I can't afford to spoil any film." + +"Well, hardly," Andy agreed. "By gracious, I hope you're making the rest +of the bunch hump themselves, too. Honest, I'd die if I saw anybody +sitting around in the shade, right now!" + +"Andy, did you go and take that shelf after all?" came the reproachful +voice of Rosemary from the kitchen, and Luck retreated by way of the +front door without telling Andy just how busy the other boys were. + +The "ketch-all," where Big Medicine and Pink were clearing out the +accumulation of years, was enveloped in a cloud of dust. Down in the +corral a dozen horses were circling, with Applehead moving cautiously +about in the middle dragging his loop and making ready for a throw. There +was one snuffy little bay gelding that he meant to turn over to Luck for +a saddle horse, and he wanted to get him caught and in the stable before +showing him to Luck. Happy Jack was wobbling up the path with an +oversized sack of potatoes balanced on his shoulder, and his face a deep +crimson from the heat and his exertions. Down in the stable the little +black dog, enlivened by the plate of bones Rosemary had given him, had +scented the cat in the loft and was barking hysterically up the ladder. + +Luck stepped out briskly, cheered by the atmosphere of bustling +preparation which surrounded him. That he was the moving spirit which +directed all these activities stimulated him like good old wine. It was +for his Big Picture that they were preparing. Already his brain was at +work upon the technique of picture production, formulating a system which +should as far as possible eliminate the risk of failure because of the +handicaps under which he must work. + +Having to be his own camera-man, and to work without an assistant, piled +high the burden of work and responsibility; but he could not afford to +pay the salaries such assistants would demand. He had a practical +knowledge of camera craft, since he had worked his way up through all +branches of the game, and he was sure that with practice he could do the +photographic work. He hoped to teach Andy enough about it so that he +could help; Andy seemed to have an adaptability superior to some of the +others and would learn the rudiments readily, Luck believed. + +The lack of a leading woman was another handicap. He could not afford to +hire one, and he could not very well weave a love story into his plot +without a woman. He was going to try Rosemary, since her part would +consist mostly of riding in and out of scenes and looking pretty,--at +least in the earlier portion. And by the time he was ready to produce the +dramatic scenes, he hoped that she would be able to act the part. It was +a risk, of course, and down deep in his heart he feared that much of her +charm would never reach the screen; but he must manage somehow, since +there would be no money to spend on salaries. He ought to have a +character woman, too,--which he lacked. + +But other things he did have, and they were the things that would count +most for success or failure. He had his real boys, for instance; and he +had his real country; and, last and most important of all, he had his +story to tell. In spite of his weariness, Luck was almost happy that +first afternoon at Applehead's ranch. He went whistling about his task of +directing the others and doing two men's work himself, and he refused to +worry about anything. + +That evening after supper, when they were all smoking and resting before +Applehead's big rock fireplace, Luck's energy would not let him dwell +upon the trivial incidents of their trip, which the Happy Family were +discussing with reminiscent enjoyment. Applehead's booming laugh was to +Luck as a vague accompaniment to his own thoughts darting here and there +among his plans. + +"Aw, gwan!" Happy Jack was exclaiming in his habitual tone of protest. +"Conductor lied to me, is how I come to be over to that place when the +train started to pull out. I was buyin' something. I wasn't talking to no +Mexican girl. I betche--" + +"Now, while we're all together," Luck broke suddenly into Happy's +explanation, "I'm just going over the scenario from start to finish and +assign your parts. Applehead, I'm going to cast you for the sheriff. You +won't need to do any acting at all--" + +"We-ell, if I do, I calc'late I got some idee uh how a shurf had oughta +ack," Applehead informed him with a boastful note in his voice, and +pulled himself up straighter in his chair. "I was 'lected shurf uh this +county four different terms right hand runnin', and if I do say it, they +wasn't nobody ever said I didn't do my duty. Ary man I went after, I come +purty near bringin' him into camp, now I'm tellin' ye! This here old girl +has shore talked out in meetin', in her time, and there wasn't ary man +wanted to face her down in an argument, now I'm tellin' ye." He got up +and took his old six-shooter off the mantel and held it lovingly in his +palm. Very solemnly he licked his thumb and polished a certain place +along the edge of the yellow ivory handle, and held it so the Happy +Family could see three tiny notches. + +"Them's three argyments she shore settled," he stated grimly, and turned +slowly upon Luck. + +"Yes-s, I calc'late I can play shurf for ye, all right enough." + +Luck looked up at him with his eyes shining, remembering how staunch a +friend Applehead had been in times past, and how even his boastings were +but a naive recognition of facts concerning himself. Applehead Forrman +was fifty-six years old, but Luck could not at that moment recall a man +more dangerous to meet as an enemy or more loyal to have as a friend. + +"I calc'late you can," he agreed in his soft, friendly drawl. "Sit down +and turn your good ear this way, Applehead, so this story can soak in. +You'll see where you come in as sheriff, and you'll sabe just what you'll +have to do. Bud, here, will be the outlaw that blows into the cow-camp +and begins to mix things. He's the one you'll have to settle. So here's +the way the story runs:" + +"Say, boss, make it short and sweet, can't you?" Andy begged. He was +sitting on the floor with his head against Rosemary's knees, and his +eyelids were drooping drowsily. "By gracious, nobody'll have to sing me +to sleep to-night! I'm about ready to hit the hay right now." + +"I'll cut out the atmosphere and just stick to the action, then," Luck +conceded. "I want to get you all placed, so we can get to work in the +morning without any delay. _Sabe_?" + +"Shoot," murmured Pink, opening his eyes with some effort "I can listen +for five minutes, maybe." + +"I can't, I don't believe," the Native Son yawned. "But go ahead, +_amigo_. My heart's with you, anyway, whether my eyes are open or shut." + +Luck was pretty sleepy himself, after two nights and a day spent in a +chair car, with another day of hard labor to finish the ordeal. But his +enthusiasm had never been keener than when, in the land of sage and +cactus, he first unfolded his precious scenario and bent forward to +read by the light of the fire. He forgot to skip the "atmosphere." +Scene by scene he lived the story through. Scene by scene he saw his +Big Picture grow vivid as ever the reality would be. Once or twice he +glanced up and saw Applehead leaning forward with his elbows on his +knees and his pipe gone cold in his fingers, absorbed, living the story +even as Luck lived it. + +A long, rumbling snore stopped him with a mental jolt. He came back to +reality and looked at the Happy Family. Every one of them, save Rosemary, +was sound asleep; and even Rosemary was dreaming at the fire with her +eyes half closed, and her fingers moving caressingly through the +unconscious Andy's brown hair. + +"Let 'em be. You go ahead and read it out," Applehead muttered, impatient +of the pause. + +So Luck, with his audience dwindled to one bald-headed old rangeman, +read the story of what he meant to create out there in the wild spaces +of New Mexico. + + + + +CHAPTER ELEVEN + +JUST A FEW UNFORESEEN OBSTACLES + + +It is surprising how much time is consumed by the little things of +life,--unimportant in themselves, yet absolutely necessary to a +satisfactory accomplishment of the big things. Luck, looking ahead into +the next day, confidently expected to be making scenes by the time the +light was right,--say nine o'clock in the morning. He had chosen several +short, unimportant scenes, such as the departure of old Dave Wiswell, his +cattleman of the picture, from the ranch; his return, and the saddling of +horses and riding away of the boys. Also he meant to make a scene of the +arrival of the sheriff after having received word of the presence of Big +Medicine, the outlaw, at the ranch. Rosemary, too, as the daughter of old +Dave, must run down to the corral to meet her father. Scattered scenes +they were, occurring in widely separated parts of the story. But they had +to be made, and they required no especial "sets" of scenery; and other +work, such as the building of the stage for interior sets, could go on +with few interruptions. The boys would have to work in their make-up, but +since the make-up was to be nothing more than a sharpening of the +features to make them look absolutely natural upon the screen, it would +not be uncomfortable. This was what Luck had planned for that day. + +Before breakfast he had selected a site for his stage, on the sunny +side of the hill back of the house, where it would be partially +sheltered from the sweeping winds of New Mexico. All day he would have +the sun behind him while he worked, and he considered the situation an +ideal one. He had the lumber hauled up there and unloaded, while +Rosemary and Applehead were cooking breakfast for ten hungry people. He +laid out his foundation and explained to the boys just how it should be +built, and even sacrificed his appetite to his impatience by going a +quarter of a mile to where he remembered seeing some old barbed wire +strung along a fence to keep it off the ground so that stock could not +tangle in it. He got the wire and brought it back with him to guy out +the uprights for the diffusers. So on the whole he began the day as +well as even he could desire. + +Then little hindrances began to creep in to delay him. For one thing, the +Happy Family had only a comedy acquaintance with grease paint, and their +make-up reminded Luck unpleasantly of Bently Brown's stories. As they +appeared one by one, with their comically crooked eyebrows and their +rouge-widened lips and staring, deep-shadowed eyes, Luck sent them back +to take it all off and start over again under his supervision. The +outcome was that he gave a full hour to making up the faces of his +characters and telling them how to do it themselves. Even Rosemary made +her brows too heavy and her lips too red, and her cheeks were flushed +unevenly. Luck was a busy man that morning, but he was not taking scenes +by nine o'clock, for all his haste. + +With a kindly regard for Rosemary's nervousness lest she fail him, he set +up his camera and told her to walk down part way to the corral, +looking--supposedly--to see if her dad had come home. She must stand +there irresolutely, then turn and walk back toward the camera, +registering the fact that she was worried. That sounds simple enough, +doesn't it? + +What Luck most wanted was to satisfy himself as to whether Rosemary could +possibly play the part of old Dave's daughter. If she could, he would +sleep sounder that night; if she could not,--Luck was not at all clear as +to what he should do if she failed. He told her just where to walk into +the "scene," which is the range of the camera. He went down part way to +the corral and drew a line with his toe, and told her to stop when she +reached that line and to look away up the trail which wound down among +the rocks and sage. When he called to her she was to turn and walk back, +trying to imagine that she was much worried and disappointed. + +"Your dad was to have come last night," Luck suggested. "You tried to +keep him from going in the first place, and now we've got to establish +the fact that he is away behind time getting home. You know, this is +where his horse falls with him, and he lies out all night, and Big +Medicine brings him in next day. You kind of have a hunch that something +is wrong, and you keep looking for him. Sabe." He fussed with the camera, +adjusting it to what seemed to him the right focus. "Want to rehearse it +first?" he added considerately. + +"No," Rosemary gasped, "I don't. I know how to walk, and how to turn +around and come back. I've been doing those things for twenty-two years +or so, but Luck Lindsay, if you don't let me do it right away quick, I +just know I'll stub my toe and fall down, or something!" The worst of it +was, she meant what she said. Rosemary, I am sorry to say, was so scared +that her teeth chattered. + +"All right, you go on and do it now," Luck permitted, and began to turn +the crank at seventeen in order to hold her action slow, while he watched +her. Groaning inwardly, he continued to turn, while Rosemary went primly +down the winding trail, stood with her toes on the line Luck had marked +for her, gazed stiffly off to the right, and then, when he called to her, +turned and came back, staring fixedly over his head. You have seen little +girls with an agonized self-consciousness walk up an aisle to a platform +where they must bow to their fathers and mothers and their critical +schoolmates and "speak a piece." Rosemary resembled the most bashful +little girl that you can recall. + +"All right," said Luck tonelessly, and placed his palm over the lens +while he gave the crank another turn. "We'll try it again to-morrow. +Don't worry. You'll get the hang of it all right." + +His very smile, meant to encourage her, brought swift tears that rolled +down and streaked the powder and rouge on her cheeks. She had made a mess +of it all; she knew that just as well as Luck knew it. He gave her +shoulder a reassuring pat as she went by, and that finished Rosemary. She +retreated into the gloomy, one-windowed bedroom with its litter of +half-unpacked suitcases and an overflowing trunk, and she cried +heartbrokenly because she knew she would never in this world be able to +forget that terrible, winking eye and the clicking whirr of Luck's +camera. Just to think of facing it gave her a "goose-flesh" chill,--and +she did so want to help Luck! + +With the Happy Family and old Dave, Luck fared better. They, fortunately +for him, were already what he called camera-broke. They could forget all +about the camera while they caught and saddled their horses. They could +mount and ride away unconcernedly without even thinking of trying to act. +Luck's spirits rose a little while he turned the crank, and just for pure +relief at the perfect naturalness of it, he gave that scene an extra ten +feet of footage. + +With Applehead he had some difficulty. Applehead looked the part of +sheriff, all right. He wore his trousers tucked inside his boots because +he always wore them so, especially when he rode. He wore his big +six-shooter buckled snugly about his middle instead of dangling far down +his thigh, because he had always worn it that way. He wore his sheriffs +badge pinned on his vest and his coat unbuttoned, so that the wind blew +it open now and then and revealed the star. Altogether he looked exactly +as he had looked when he was serving one of his four terms of office. But +when he faced the camera, he was inclined to strut, and Luck had no +negative to waste. He resorted to strategy, which consisted of a little +wholesome sarcasm. + +"Listen, Applehead! the public is going to get the idea that you sure +hate yourself!" he remarked, standing with his hands on his hips while +Applehead came strutting into the foreground. "You'll never make any one +believe you were ever a real, honest-to-God sheriff. They'll put you down +as an extra picked up through a free employment agency and feeling like +you owned the plant because you're earning a couple of dollars. Go back +down there to your horse and wait till some of that importance +evaporates!" + +Applehead went off swearing to himself, and Luck got a fifteen-foot +scene of the departure of a very indignant sheriff who is with +difficulty holding his anger subordinate to his official dignity. Before +he had time to recover his usual good humor, Luck with further +disparaging comment called him back. Applehead, smarting under the +sarcasm, came ready for war, and Luck turned the crank until the sheriff +was almost within reach of him. + +"Gol darn you, Luck, I'll take that there camery and bust it over your +danged head!" he spluttered. "I'll show ye! Call me a bum that's wearin' +a shurf's star fer the first time in his life, will ye! Why, I'll jest +about wear ye out if--" + +"All right, pard; I was just aiming to make you come up looking mad. You +did fine." Luck stopped to roll a smoke as though nothing had occurred +but tiresome routine. + +Applehead looked down at him uncertainly. He looked at the Happy Family, +saw them grinning, and gave a mollified chuckle. "We-ell, you was takin' +a danged long chance, now I'm tellin' yuh, boy!" he warned. "I was all +set to tangle with yuh; and if I had, I reckon I'd a spiled something +'fore I got through." + +It was noon by the sun, and a film of haze was spreading across the sky. +Luck shot another scene or two and shouldered his precious camera +reluctantly, when Rosemary, red-lidded but elaborately cheerful in her +manner, called them in to dinner. + +"She's goin' to storm, shore's you live," Applehead predicted, sniffing +into the wind like a dog confronted by a strange scent. A little later +he looked up from his full plate with a worried air. "How's a storm +goin' to hit ye, Luck?" he asked. "Kinda put a stop to the pitcher +business, won't it?" + +"Not if it snows, it won't," Luck answered calmly, helping himself to the +brown beans boiled with bacon. "We'll round up a bunch of cattle, and +I'll shoot my blizzard stuff. I'll need more negative, though, for that. +If I knew for sure it's going to storm--" + +"I'm tellin' yuh it is, ain't I?" Applehead blew into his saucer of +coffee,--his table manners not being the nicest in the world. "I kin +smell snow two days off, and that there wind comin' up the canyon has got +snow behind it, now I'm tellin' ye. 'Nother thing, I kin tell by the way +Compadre walks, liftin' his feet high and bushin' up what's left of his +tail. That there cat's smarter'n some humans, and he shore kin smell snow +comin', same's I do. He hates snow worse'n pizen." Applehead drank his +coffee in great gulps. "I'll bet he's huntin' a warm corner somewheres, +right now." + +"No, he ain't, by cripes!" Big Medicine corrected him. "That there +Come-Paddy cat of yourn has got worse troubles than snow! Dog's got him +treed up the windmill. I seen--" + +Applehead did not wait to hear what Big Medicine had seen. He drank the +remainder of his coffee in one great, scalding gulp, and went out to +rescue his cat and to put the fear of death into the little black dog. +When he returned, puffing a little, to his interrupted meal and had told +them a few of the things he meant to do to that dog if it refused to +mend its ways, he declared again that he could "shore smell snow behind +that wind." + +"I wish it would hold off till that raw stock gets here," Luck observed +anxiously. "I wired the order in, but at that I'm afraid it won't get +here before the end of the week. I'll have one of you boys pack me some +water into the dark room so I can develop negatives right after dinner. I +want to see how she's coming out before I take any more." + +"I thought Andy'd fixed a hose fer that dark room," Happy Jack said +forebodingly. If there was water to be carried, Happy was pessimistically +certain that he would have to carry it. + +"I turned that hose over to the missus for a colander," Andy explained +soberly. "By gracious, I couldn't figure out anything else it could be +used for." + +"Did you get the barrels fixed like I said?" + +"I sure did. Applehead must have had a Dutch picnic or two out here, +from the number of beer kegs scattered all over the place. And a couple +of big whisky--" + +"Them there whisky bar'ls I bought and used fer water bar'ls till I got +my well bored. Luck kin mind the time when we hauled water on a sled outa +the arroyo down below." Applehead's eyes turned anxiously to Rosemary, +toward whom he was beginning to show a timidly worshipful attitude. + +"You bet I can. Do you remember the time we hitched that big bronk up +with old Wall-eye, to haul water? Got back here a little ways beyond the +stable with two barrels sloshing over the top, and the cat--not this one, +but a black-and-white cat, that was--the cat jumped out from behind a +buck brush. _Hot dog!_ That bronk went straight in the air! Remember that +time?" Luck leaned back in his chair to laugh. + +"I shore do," Applehead chuckled. "Luck, here, he was walkin' behind the +sled and drivin',--and he wasn't as big as he is now, even. That was soon +after he come out here to fatten up like. Little bit of a peaked--why, I +bet he didn't weigh over a hundred pounds after a full meal! He was +ridin' the lines an' steadyin' the bar'ls, busy as a dog at a badger +hole, when the cat jumped out, an' that there bronk r'ared back and swung +off short and hit fur the mesa; and Luck here a-hangin' and hollerin', +an' me a-leggin' it to ketch up, and bar'ls teeterin' and--Mind how you +was bound you'd kill that cat uh mine?" he asked Luck, tears of laughter +dimming his eyes. "That was ole Leather Lungs. He tuk sick an' died, year +after that. Luck shore was mad enough to eat that thar cat, now I'm +tellin' yuh!" + +The Happy Family laughed together over the picture Applehead had crudely +painted for them. But Luck, although he had started the story, already +was slipping away from the present and was trying to peer into the +future. He did not even hear what Applehead was saying to keep the boys +in a roar of mirth. He was mentally reckoning the number of days since he +had wired his order for a C.O.D. shipment of negative to be rushed to +Albuquerque. Two days in Los Angeles, getting ready for the venture; two +days on the way to Applehead's ranch, one day here,--five days +altogether. He had told them to rush the order. If they did, there was a +chance that it might have arrived. He decided suddenly to make the trip +and see; but first he would develop the exposed negative of the +forenoon's work. He got up with that businesslike air which the Happy +Family had already begun to recognize as a signal for quick action, and +took off his coat. + +"Happy, I wish you and Bud would carry me some water," he said. "I'll +show you where to put it; I'm going to need a lot. Will you help me wind +the film on my patent rack, Andy? And I'll want that little team hitched +to the buckboard so I can go to town after I'm through. I've got some +hopes of my negative being there." + +"Want the rest of us to work on that stage, don't you, boss?" Weary +asked, pausing in the doorway to roll a smoke. "And please may I wipe off +my eyebrows?" + +"Why, sure!--to both questions," answered Luck, going over to his camera. +"I can't do much more till I get more negative, even with the light +right, which it isn't. You go ahead and finish the stage this afternoon. +And be sure the uprights are guyed for a high wind; she sure can blow, in +this man's country." + +"You're danged right, she can blow!" Applehead testified emphatically. +"She can blow, and she's goin' to blow. You want to take your overshoes +and mittens, boy, when you start out fer town. You know how cold she can +get on that mesa. Chances are you'll come back facin' a blizzard. And, +say! I wisht you'd take that there dog back with yuh, Luck, 'cause if yuh +don't, him and me's shore goin' to tangle, now I'm tellin' yuh! Mighty +funny note when a cat dassent walk acrost his own dooryard in broad +daylight, no more! Poor ole Compadre was shakin' like a leaf when I clumb +up and got him down of'n the windmill. Way the wind was whistlin' up +there, the chances are he's done ketched cold in 'is tail, and if he has, +yuh better see to it that thar dog ain't within gunshot uh me, now I'm +tellin' yuh!" + +Luck did not hear half the tirade. He had gone into the dark room and was +dissolving hypo for the fixing bath, while the boys tramped in with full +water buckets and began to fill the barrels he had placed in a row along +the wall. He was impatient to see how his work of the forenoon would come +out of the developer, and he was quite as impatient to be on his way to +town. Whether he admitted it or not, he had a good deal of faith in +Applehead's weather forecasts; he remembered how often the old fellow had +predicted storms in the past when Luck spent a long winter with him here +in this same adobe dwelling. If it did snow, he must have plenty of +negative for his winter scenes; for snow never laid long on the level +here, and he had a full reel of winter stuff to make. + +He called Andy to come and help him wind his exposed film on the crude, +improvised film racks that had lately been beer kegs, and closed the dark +room door upon the last empty bucket that had been carried in full. In +the dull light of the ruby lamp he carefully wound his long strip of +exposed negative, emulsion side out, around the keg which Andy held for +him. His developer bath was ready, and he immersed the film-jacketed keg +slowly, with due regard for bubbles of air. + +"You may not know it, but right here in this dark room is where I look +for the real test of success or failure," he confided to Andy, while he +rocked the keg gently in the barrel. "I wish I could afford a good +camera-man; but then, the most of them wouldn't work with this kind of an +outfit; they'd demand all the laboratory conveniences, and that would run +into money. Ever notice that when you can't get anything but the crudest +kind of tools to work with, you generally have to use them yourself? But +it will take more than--oh, _hell_!" + +"What's wrong?" Andy Green bent his brown head anxiously down beside +Luck's fast graying mop of hair, and peered at the images coming out of +the yellowish veil that had hidden them. "Ain't they good?" + +Luck reached into the water tank and splashed a little water on his film +to check it while he looked. "Now, what in the name of--" He scowled +perplexedly down at the streaked strips. "What do you suppose streaked it +like that?" He lifted worried, gray eyes to Andy's apprehensive frown, +and looked again disgustedly at the negative before he dropped it back +with a splash into the developer. + +"No good; she's ruined," he said in the flat tone of a great +disappointment. "Eighty feet of film gone to granny. Well, that's +luck for you!" + +Andy reached gingerly into the barrel and brought up the keg so that +he could take another look. He had owned a kodak for years and had +done enough amateur developing to know that something had gone very +wrong here. + +"What ails the darned thing?" he asked fretfully, turning to Luck, who +was scowling abstractedly into his barrels of "soup." + +"You can search me," Luck replied dully. "Looks like I'd been stung with +a bunch of bum chemicals. Either that, or something's wrong with our +tanks here." He reached down and pulled up the keg by its hooped top, +glimpsed a stain on his finger and thumb and let the keg slip hastily +over into the pure water so that he could examine the stains. + +"Iron! Iron, sure as thunder!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Those iron hoops +are what did it." He rubbed his hand vexedly. "I knew better than that, +too. I don't see why I didn't think about those hoops. Of all the +idiotic, fool--" + +"What kinda brain do you think you've got in your head, anyway?" Andy +broke in spiritedly. "Way you've been working it lately, engineering +every blamed detail yourself, you oughtn't to wonder if one little thing +gets by you." + +"Well, it's done now," Luck dismissed the accident stoically. "Lucky I +started in on those costume and make-up tests of all you fellows, and +that scene of your wife's. And if I'd used the other half barrel instead +of this five-gallon keg for a start-off, I'd have spoiled the whole +bunch. I'll have to throw out all that developer. Blast the luck! Well, +let's get busy." He pulled out the keg and held it up for another +disgusted look. "I won't bother fixing that at all. Call Happy and Bud +back, will you, and have them roll this barrel of developer out and ditch +it? And then take those two half barrels you were going to fix, and wrap +them with clothesline,--that cotton line on one of the trunks,--and knock +off all the hoops. I'm going to beat it to 'Querque and see if that +stuff's there. We'll try developing the rest this evening, after I get +back. Darn such luck!" + +The five thousand feet of negative had not arrived, but there was a +letter from the company saying that they had shipped it. Luck, bone-tired +and cold from his fifteen-mile drive across the unsheltered mesa, turned +away from the express office, debating whether to wait for the film or go +back to the ranch. It would be a pretty cold drive back, in the edge of +the evening and facing that raw wind; he decided that he would save time +by waiting here in town, since he could not go on with his picture +without more negative. He turned back impulsively, put his head in at the +door of the express office, and called to the clerk: + +"When do you get your next express from the East, brother? I'll wait for +that negative if you think it's likely to come by to-morrow noon or +there-abouts." + +"Might come in on the eight o'clock train to-night, or to-morrow morning. +You say it was shipped the sixteenth? Ought to be here by morning, sure." + +"I'll take a chance," Luck said half to himself, and closed the door. + +A round-shouldered, shivering youth, who had been leaning apathetically +against the side of the building, moved hesitatingly up to him. "Say, +do I get it right that you're in the movies?" he inquired anxiously. +"Heard you mention looking for negative. Haven't got a job for a +fellow, have you?" + +Luck wheeled and looked him over, from his frowsy, soft green beaver hat +with the bow at the back, to his tan pumps that a prosperous young man +would have thrown back in the closet six weeks before, as being out of +season. The young man grinned his understanding of the appraisement, and +Luck saw that his teeth were well-kept, and that his nails were clean and +trimmed carefully. He made a quick mental guess and hit very close to the +fellow's proper station in life and his present predicament. + +"What end of the business do you know?" he asked, turning his face toward +the warmth of the hotel. + +"Operator. Worked two years at the Bijou in Cleveland. I'm down on my +luck now; thought I'd try the California studios, because I wanted to +learn the camera, and I figured on getting a look at the Fair. I stalled +around out there till my money gave out, and then I started back to God's +country." He shrugged his shoulders cynically. "This is about as far as +I'm likely to get, unless I can learn to do without eating and a few +other little luxuries," he summed up the situation grimly. + +"Well, it won't hurt you to skip a lesson and have dinner with me," Luck +suggested in the offhand way that robbed the invitation of the sting of +charity. "I always did hate to eat alone." + +The upshot of the meeting was that, when Luck gathered up the lines, next +day, and popped the short lash of Applehead's home-made whip over the +backs of the little bay team, and told them to "Get outa town!" in a tone +that had in it a boyish note of exultation, the thin youth hung to the +seat of the bouncing buckboard and wondered if Luck really could drive, +or if he was half "stewed" and only imagined he could. The thin youth had +much to learn besides the science of photography and some of it he +learned during that fifteen-mile drive. For one thing, he learned that +really Luck could drive. Luck proved that by covering the fifteen miles +in considerably less than an hour and a half without losing any of his +precious load of boxed negative and coiled garden hose and assistant +camera-man,--since that was what he intended to make of the thin youth. + + + + +CHAPTER TWELVE + +"I THINK YOU NEED INDIAN GIRL FOR PICTURE" + + +Still it did not snow, though the wind blew from the storm quarter, and +Applehead sniffed it and made predictions, and Compadre went with his +remnant of tail ruffed like a feather boa. Immediately after supper Luck +attached his new hose to the tank faucet and developed the corral scenes +which he had taken, with the thin youth taking his first lesson in the +dark room. The thin youth, who said his name was Bill Holmes, did not +have very much to say, but he seemed very quick to grasp all that Luck +told him. That kept Luck whistling softly between sentences, while they +wound the negative around the roped half barrel that had not so much as a +six penny nail in it this time, so thoroughly did Andy do his work. + +The whistling ceased abruptly when Luck examined his film by the light of +the ruby lamp, however, for every scene was over-exposed and worthless. +Luck realized when he looked at it that the light was much stronger than +any he had ever before photographed by, and that he would have to "stop +down" hereafter; the problem was, how much. His light tests, he +remembered, had been made rather late in the afternoon, when the light +was getting yellow, and he had blundered in forgetting that the forenoon +light was not the same. + +He went ahead and put the film through the fixing bath and afterwards +washed it carefully, more for the practice and to show Bill Holmes how to +handle the negative than for any value the film would have. He discovered +that Andy had not unpacked the rewinding outfit, but since he would not +need it until his negative was dry, he made no comment on the subject. +Bill Holmes kept at his heels, helping when he knew what to do, asking a +question now and then, but silent for the most part. Luck felt extremely +optimistic about Bill Holmes, but for all that he was depressed by his +second failure to produce good film. A camera-man, he felt in his heart, +might be the determining factor for success; but he was too stubborn to +admit it openly or even to consider sending for one, even if he could +have managed to pay the seventy-five dollars a week salary for the time +it would take to produce the Big Picture. He could easier afford to waste +a few hundred feet of negative now, he argued to himself. + +"Come on down, and I'll show you what I can about the camera," he said to +Bill Holmes. "The light's too tricky to-day to work by, but I'll give you +a few pointers that you'll have to keep in mind when I'm too busy to +think about telling you. Once I get to directing a scene, I'm liable to +be busy as a one-armed prospector fighting a she-bear with cubs. I'm +counting on you to remember what all I'va told you, in case I forget to +tell you again. You see, I've ruined a hundred and fifty feet of negative +already, just by overlooking a couple of bets. You're here to help keep +that from happening again. _Sabe_?" + +"Well, there's one or two things I don't have to learn," Bill Holmes told +him by way of encouragement. "You get the camera set and ready, and I can +turn it any speed you want. I'll guarantee that much. I learned that all +right in projection." + +"That's exactly why I brought you out here, brother," Luck assured him. +"That's why--" + +"Oh, Luck Lindsay!" came Rosemary's voice excitedly. "Mr. Forrman wants +you right away quick! Somebody's coming that he doesn't know, and he says +it's up to you!" + +"What's up to me?" Luck came hurrying down the ladder backwards. "Has +Applehead gone as crazy as his cat? I've nothing to do with strangers +coming to the ranch." + +"Yes," said Rosemary, twinkling her brown eyes at him, "but this is a +woman. Mr. Forrman refuses to take any responsibility--" + +"So do I. I don't know of any woman that's liable to come trailing me up. +Where is she?" + +From the doorway Rosemary pointed dramatically, and Luck went up and +stood beside her, rolling down his sleeves while he stared at the trail. +Down the slope, head bent to the whooping wind, a woman came walking with +a free, purposeful stride that spoke eloquently of accustomedness to the +open land. Her skirts flapped but could not impede her movements. She +seemed to be carrying some bright-hued burden upon her shoulders, and she +was, without doubt, coming straight down to the ranch as to a +much-desired goal. + +"You can search me," he said emphatically in answer to Applehead's +question. "Must be some _senora_ away off the trail. I never saw her +before in my life." + +"We-ell, now, that there lady don't act like she's lost," Applehead +declared, watching her intently as she came on. "Aims to git whar she's +goin', if I'm any jedge of actions. An' she shore is hittin' fur here. +Ain't been ary woman on this ranch in ten year, till Mrs. Green come +t'other day." + +"She's none of my funeral; I don't know her from Adam," Luck disclaimed, +and went back into the dark room as though be had urgent business there, +which he had not. In the back of his mind was an uneasy feeling that the +newcomer was "some of his funeral," and yet he could not tell how or why +she should be. In her walk there was a teasing sense of familiarity; he +did not know who she was, but he felt uncomfortably that he ought to +know. He fumbled among the litter on the shelf, putting things in order; +and all the while his ears were sharpened to the sounds that came muffled +through the closed door. + +"Oh, Luck Lindsay!" came Rosemary's voice at last, with what Luck fancied +was a malicious note in it. "You're wanted out here!" + +Luck fumbled for a minute longer while he racked his brain for some clue +to this woman's identity. For a man who has lived the varied life Luck +had lived, his conscience was remarkably clean; but no one enjoys having +mystery stalk unawares up to one's door. However, he opened the door and +went out, feeling sensitively the curious expectancy of the Happy Family, +and faced the woman who stood just beyond the doorway. One look, and he +stopped dead still in the middle of the room. "Well, I'll be darned!" he +said in a hushed tone of blank amazement. + +The woman's black eyes lighted as though flames had darted up behind +them. "How, _Cola_?" she greeted him in the soft, cooing tones of the +younger Indians whose voices have not yet grown shrill and harsh. +"Wagalexa Conka!" It was the tribal name given him in great honor by his +Indians of Pine Ridge Agency. + +Through his astonishment, Luck's face glowed at the words. He went up and +put out his hand, impelled by the hospitality which is an unwritten law +of the old West, and is not to be broken save for good cause. + +"How! How!" he answered her greeting. "You long ways from home, +Annie-Many-Ponies!" + +Annie-Many-Ponies smiled in a way to make Happy Jack gulp with a sudden +emotion he would have denied. She flashed a quick glance around at the +curious faces that regarded her so intently, and she eased her +shawl-wrapped burden to the ground with the air of one who has reached +her journey's end. + +"Yes, I plenty long ways," she assented placidly. "I don't stay by +reservation no more. Too lonesome. One night I beat it. I work for you +now." + +"How you know you work for me?" Luck felt nine pairs of eyes trying to +read his face. "That's bad, you run away. You better go back, +Annie-Many-Ponies. Your father--" + +"Nah!" Annie-Many-Ponies cried in swift rebellion. "I work for you all +time, I no want monies. I got plenty wardrobe; you give me plenty grub; I +work for you. I think you need him Indian girl in picture. I think you +plenty sorry all Indians go by reservation. You no like for Indians go +home," she stated with soft sympathy. "I sabe you not got monies for pay +all thems Indians. I come be Indian girl for you; I not want monies. You +let me stay--Wagalexa Conka!" + +"You come in and eat, Annie-Many-Ponies," Luck commanded with more +gentleness than he was accustomed to show. The girl must have followed +him all the way from Los Angeles, and she must have walked all the way +out from Albuquerque. All this she seemed to take for granted, a mere +detail of no importance beside her certainty that although he had no +money to pay the Indians, he must surely need an Indian girl in his +pictures. Loyalty always touched Luck deeply. He had brought the little +black dog back with him and hidden it in the stable, just because the dog +had followed him all around town and had seemed so pleased when Luck was +loading the buckboards for the return trip. He could not logically +repulse the manifest friendliness of Annie-Many-Ponies. + +He introduced her formally to Rosemary, and was pleased when Rosemary +smiled and shook hands without the slightest hesitation. The Happy Family +he lumped together in one sentence. "All these my company," he told her. +"You eat now. By and by I think you better go home." + +Annie-Many-Ponies looked at him with smoldering eyes, standing in the +middle of the kitchen, refusing to sit down to the table until the main +question was settled. + +"Why you say that?" she demanded, drawing her brows down sullenly. "You +got plenty more Indian girls?" + +Luck shook his head. + +"You think me not good-looking any more?" With her two slim brown hands +she pushed back the shawl from her hair and challenged criticism of her +beauty. She was beautiful,--there was no gain saying that; she was so +beautiful that the sight of her, standing there like an indignant young +Minnehaha, tingled the blood of more than one of the Happy Family. "You +think I so homely I spoil your picture?" + +"I think you must not run away from the reservation," Luck parried, +refusing to be cajoled by her anger or her beauty. "You always were a +good girl, Annie-Many-Ponies. Long time ago, when you were little girl +with the Buffalo Bill show, you were good. You mind what Wagalexa +Conka say?" + +Annie-Many-Ponies bent her head. "I mind you now, Wagalexa Conka," she +told him quickly. "You tell me ride down that big hill," she threw one +hand out toward the bluff that sheltered the house. "I sure ride down +like hell. I care not for break my neck, when you want big 'punch' in +picture. You tell me be homely old squaw like Mrs. Ghost-Dog, I be homely +so dogs yell to look on me. I mind you plenty--but I do not go by +reservation no more." + +"Yow father be mad--I let you stay, he maybe shoot me," Luck argued, +secretly flattered by her persistence. + +Annie-Many-Ponies smiled,--a slow, sphinx-like smile, mysteriously sweet +and lingering. "Nah! Not shoot you. I write one letters, say I go work +for you. Now you write one letter by Agent, say you let me stay, say I +work for you, say I good girl, say I be Indian girl for your picture. I +mind you plenty, Wagalexa Conka!" She smiled again coaxingly, like a +child. "I like you," she stated simply. "You good man. You need Indian +girl, I think. I work for you. My father not be mad; my father know you +good man for Indians." + +Luck turned from her and gave the Happy Family a pathetic, +what's-a-fellow-going-to-do look that made Andy Green snort unexpectedly +and go outside. One by one the others followed him, grinning shamelessly +at Luck's helplessness. In a moment he overtook them, wanting the support +of their judgment. + +"The worst of it is," he confessed, after he had explained how he had +known the girl since she was a barefooted papoose with the "Bill" show, +and he was Indian Agent there; "the worst of it is, she's a humdinger in +pictures. She gets over big in foreground stuff. Rides like a whirlwind, +and as for dramatic work, she can put it over half the leading women in +the business--that is, in her line of Pocohontas stuff." + +"Well, why don't you let her stay?" Weary demanded. "She will +anyway--mama! We're not what you can call over-run with women on +this job." + +"Why don't you make a squaw-man outa Dave?" Pink suggested boldly, "and +let her be his daughter instead of Rosemary?" + +"Say, what does that there walka-some-darn-thing mean, that she +calls yuh?" Big Medicine wanted to know. "By cripes, I hate talk I +don't savey." + +"Wagalexa Conka?" Luck smiled shamefacedly. "Oh, that's just a name the +Indians gave me. Means Big Turkey, in plain English. Her father, old +Chief Big Turkey, adopted me into the tribe, and they call me by his +name. Annie-Many-Ponies has heard it used ever since she was a kid. By +tribal law I'm her brother. Well, what's the word, boys? Shall we let +her stay or not? We could use her, all right, and put a dash of +old-plains' color in the picture that I haven't got, as it stands. It's +up to you to decide." + +"You're wrong," Pink grinned. "She's decided that, herself. Gee, +she's pretty!" + +"Certainly she is; but get this, boys: She isn't going to stay just +because she's pretty, and if I had a different bunch than you fellows, +she'd have to go for that reason. I'm responsible for her--_sabe?_ Bill +Holmes, you get this; I saw you eyeing her pretty strong. That girl is +the daughter of an influential chief, and she comes pretty near being the +pride of the reservation. There can't be any romantic stuff, if they let +her stay. Her father and the Agent will consent, if they do consent, on +the strength of the confidence they have in me. They're going to keep +that confidence. Get that, and get it strong, because I sure mean what +I'm telling you." He eased the tenseness with a laugh. "I don't mean to +offend anybody," he said, "and that's why I'm putting it straight before +the play comes up. Annie-Many-Ponies has got a heart-twisting smile, but +she's a squaw just the same. She's got the ways of the Injun to the +marrow of her bones, and I'll bet right now if you were to shake her hard +enough, you'd jingle a knife out of her clothes." He stopped and lighted +the cigarette he had been carefully rolling. "Well," he finished after +the pause, "does she stay or go?" + +The Happy Family answered him with, various phrases, the meaning of which +was that he could suit himself about that; as far as they were concerned, +she could stay and welcome. + +So she stayed, and Rosemary hung up a calico curtain across the one +bedroom, so that Annie-Many-Ponies might have a corner to call her own. +She stayed; and Luck rewrote two reels of his scenario so that there +should be a place in it for a beautiful Indian girl who rode like a +whirlwind and did not know the meaning of fear, and who had a mind of her +own, and who was just exactly as harmless in that camp as half a quart of +nitroglycerine, and added thereby a good bit to the load of +responsibility which Luck was shouldering. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTEEN + +"PAM. BLEAK MESA--CATTLE DRIFTING BEFORE WIND--" + + +"Pam. bleak mesa--snow--cattle drifting before wind. Dale and Johnny dis. +riding to foreground. Reg. cold--horses leg-weary--boys all in--" + +Out toward Bear Canyon, where the land to the north rose brokenly to the +mountains, Luck found the bleak stretches of which he had dreamed that +night on the observation platform of a train speeding through the night +in North Dakota,--a great white wilderness unsheltered by friendly +forests, uninhabited save by wild things that moved stealthily across its +windswept ridges. Beyond, the mountains rose barrenly, more bleak than +the land that lay at their feet. + +"Pam. bleak mesa--snow--" With the camera set halfway up a gentle slope +commanding a steeper hill beyond, down which the boys would send the +cattle in a slow, uneasy march before the storm, Luck focused his +telephoto lens upon bleakness enough to satisfy even his voracious +appetite for realism. Bill Holmes, his tan pumps wrapped in gunny sacks +for protection against the snow that was a foot deep on the level and +still falling, thrashed his body with his arms, like a windmill whose +paddles have suddenly gone limp in a high wind. When he was ready, Luck +stopped long enough to blow on his fingers and to turn and watch for the +signal from Annie-Many-Ponies, stationed on a higher ridge to the right +of him,--the signal that the cattle were coming. + +Through the drive of the snowstorm he saw her tall, straight figure as +through a thin, shifting, white veil. The little black dog, for whom she +had conceived a fierce affection in defiance of Rosemary's tacit +opposition, was lying with its tail curled tight around its feet and its +nose, hunting warmth in the shelter of her flapping garments. +Annie-Many-Ponies was staring away to the north, shielding her keen eyes +from the snow with one slim, brown hand, while she watched for the coming +of the herd. + +Luck looked at her, silhouetted against the sky. He had no scene written +in his script to match the picture she made; he had no negative to waste. +But he swung his camera around and, using the telephoto lens he had +adjusted for his cattle scenes, he called to her to hold that pose, and +indulged his artistic sense in a ten-or-twelve foot scene which showed +Annie-Many-Ponies wholly absorbed in gazing upon farther bleakness. + +Annie-Many-Ponies was so keenly conscious of her duty to the camera that +she dared not break her pose, even to give the signal, until he had +yelled, "All right, Annie!" and swung the camera back with its recording +eye fixed upon that narrow depression between two blunt ears of hilltop, +through which the herd was to be sent down to the ridge and on past the +camera to the flat, where other scenes were to be taken later on, when +the cattle were hungry enough to browse miserably upon the bosquet of +young cotton woods. + +"Cows come!" she called out, because Luck had his back to her at the +moment and did not see the wave of hand she had been told to give him. + +Luck, squinting into the view-finder, caught the swaying vanguard of the +herd and swore. He had meant to "pan. bleak mesa" for half a minute +before those swaying heads and horns appeared over the brow of the +ridge. Now, even though he began to turn the crank the instant he +glimpsed them, he would not have quite the effect which he had meant to +have. He would be compelled to make two scenes of it, and pan. his bleak +mesa afterwards and trust to a "cut-in scene" to cover the break. He did +not trust Bill Holmes to turn the crank on that slow, plodding march of +misery. With his diaphragm of the camera wide open to get all the light +possible, because the air was filled with falling snow, he followed the +herd, as it wound snakelike down the easiest descents, making for the +more sheltered small canyons that opened out upon the flat. "Cattle +drifting before the wind," read the script; and now Luck saw them +coming, their snow-whitened backs humped to the driving storm, heads +lowered and swaying weakly from side to side with the shambling motion +of their feet. They were drifting before the wind, just as he had +planned that they should do. That they shuffled wearily down that hill +with poor cows and unweaned calves straggling miserably behind the main +body in "the drag herd," proved how well the boys had done the work +which he had sent them out at daylight to do. + +The boys had gone out, under the leadership of Applehead, who knew that +range as he knew his own dooryard, just when daylight began to break +coldly upon the storm that had come with the sunset. Luck had already +ridden out with them and had chosen his location for the blizzard scenes. + +He had gone with them over every foot of that drive, and had told them +just where the main body of riders was to fall back behind the ridge that +would hide them from the camera, leaving Andy Green and the Native +Son--since these were the two whom he always visualized in the scene--to +come on alone in the wake of the herd. Under the leadership of old +Applehead, they had combed every draw that sheltered so much as a lone +cow and calf. + +Luck had told them to bring in every hoof they could spot and get +over that ridge by ten o'clock. He had a nervous dread of the storm +breaking before noon, and his heart was set on getting that +never-to-be-successfully-faked blizzard scene. Realism ruled him +absolutely, now that he was actually producing some of the big scenes of +this picture. He had told them just where to watch for Annie-Many-Ponies +and the flag she would wave,--a black flag, so that the boys could not +fail to see it in the vague whiteness of the storm. He had located the +jutting ledge behind which Happy Jack was to sneak, that he might watch +for the signal as an extra precaution against an unseasonable appearance +of the two riders over the ridge. + +When the herd straggled down in what seemed an endless stream of +storm-driven animals, Luck knew that the boys had done their work well. +He knew cattle as he knew pictures; he knew that a full two thousand came +over that ridge through a shallow pass he had chosen, "'Every hoof' is +right," he remarked to Bill Holmes with a dry approval. "I'd hate to go +hunting meat where that bunch was gathered from. Looks like they'd combed +the country for fifty miles around." He sent a quick glance to the +pinnacle where Annie-Many-Ponies stood waiting to give the signal. He +wished that she had realized the importance of these cattle scenes keenly +enough to have given him the signal at the cost of breaking her pose. But +he had only himself to blame. He should not have taken the risk, even +though he had believed that the cattle would not arrive for another half +hour. He should have been ready; he had told the boys to send them right +over the ridge when they came up to it, because he wanted to preserve +unbroken that indescribable atmosphere of a long, weary journey. + +Still they came; a good twenty-five hundred, he was ready to wager, when +the last few stragglers, so weak that they wobbled when they hesitated +before descending a particularly steep place, came down the slope. It +surely did eat up film to take the full magnitude of that march, but Luck +turned and turned and gloated in the bigness of it all. + +"All right, Annie," he called out when he had taken the last of the herd +as they filed out of sight into the narrow gully that would lead them to +the flat half a mile below, where he meant to get other scenes. "Wave +flag now for boys to come!" + +Annie-Many-Ponies lifted high the black flag and waved it in slow, +sweeping half circles above her head. "Boys, come," she called, a +moment after. + +Luck, still not trusting the camera to Bill Holmes, swung back slowly +to the pass and made a panorama of the desolate hillside and the +chill, forbidding mountains behind. At the pass he stopped. "How +close?" he shouted to Annie. "Come now," she called down to him, and +Luck began to turn the crank again, watching like a hawk for the first +bobbing black specks which would show that the boys were nearing the +crest of the ridge. + +They came, on the very instant that he would have chosen for their +coming. Side by side they rode, drooping of shoulders, and yet with their +bodies braced backward for the descent which at the top was rather steep. +"Register cold--horses leg-weary--boys all in--" read the script which +Luck knew by heart. It was cold enough, and the camera must have +registered it in the way the snow was heaped upon their hatbrims, drifted +upon their shoulders, packed in the wrinkles of their clothing and in the +manes and tails of the horses. And the horses certainly were leg-weary; +so weary that Luck knew how the boys must have ridden to gather the +cattle and to put their mounts in that condition of realistic exhaustion. +In the story they were supposed to have ridden nearly all night,--the +night-guard who had been on duty when the storm struck and the cattle +began to drift, and who had stuck to their posts even though they could +not turn the herd. + +That might be stretching the probabilities just a shade, but Luck felt +that the effects he wanted to get justified the slight license he had +used in his plot. The effects were there, in generous measure. He +turned the crank on the whole of their descent and got them riding up +into the foreground pinched with cold, miserable as men may be. They +did not look at him--they dared not until he had given the word that +the scene was ended. + +"Ride on past, down into that gully where the cattle went," he directed +them sharply. "I'll holler when you're outa sight. You can turn around +and come back then; the scene ends where your hat-crowns bob outa sight. +And listen! You're liable to lose your cattle if you don't spur up a +little, so try and get a little speed into them cayuses of yours!" + +Obediently Andy's quirt rose and descended on the flank of his horse. It +started, broke into a shuffling trot, and slowed again to a walk. There +was no speed to be gotten out of those cayuses,--which was what Luck +meant to show on the screen; for this, you must know, was the painting of +one grim phase of the range-man's life. The Native Son spurred his horse +and got a lunge or two that settled presently to the same plodding walk. +Luck pammed them out of sight, bethought him of the rest of the boys, and +commanded Annie-Many-Ponies to call them in. + +They came, half frozen, half starved, and so tired they did not know +which discomfort irked them most. They found Luck; his nose purple with +cold marking the footage on his working script with numbed fingers. He +barely glanced at them, and turned away to tell Bill Holmes to take the +camera on down the draw to where that huddle of rocks stood up on the +hillside. Andy and Miguel came back and met the others halfway. + +"Say, boss, when do we eat?" Big Medicine inquired anxiously. "By cripes, +I'm holler plumb down to my toes,--and them's froze stiff." + +"Eat? We eat when we get these storm scenes taken," Luck told him +heartlessly. "I'm afraid it'll clear up." + +"Afraid it'll clear up!" Pink burrowed his chin deeper into his +breath-frosted collar and shivered. + +"Oh, quit kicking," the Native Son advised ironically. "We're only living +some of Luck's big minutes he used to tell about." + +Luck looked around at them and grinned a little. "Part of the business, +boys," he said. "Think of the picture stuff there is in this storm!" + +"Why, sure!" Weary responded with exaggerated cheerfulness. "I've been +freezing artistically ever since daylight. Darn me for leaving my old +sourdough coat at home when I hit for the land of orange blossoms and +singing birds and sunshine." + +"Aw, gwan! I never was warm a minute in Los Angeles except when I got hot +at the Acme. Montana never seen the day it was as cold as here." + +"Come on, boys, let's get these dissolve scenes of cattle perishing in a +blizzard. After that--hey, Annie! You come, make plenty fire, plenty +coffee. I show you location." + +Annie called gently to the little dog, and came striding down through the +snow to fall in docilely three paces behind her adored "brother," +Wagalexa Conka after the submissive manner of squaws toward the human +male in authority over them. + +"Coffee!" Weary murmured ecstatically. "Plenty fire, plenty +coffee--oh, mama!" + +Down in the flat where the bushes grew sparsely along the tiny arroyo now +gone dry, the herd had stopped from sheer exhaustion, and were already +nibbling desultorily upon the tenderest twigs. This was what Luck wanted +in his scene, though the cattle must be moved into the location he had +chosen where was just the background effect he wanted to get, with the +bare mesa showing in the far distance. There was a dreary interval of +riding and shouting and urging the cattle up over a low spur of the bluff +and down the other side, and the placing of them to Luck's satisfaction. +I fear that more than one of the boys wondered why that first bit of the +flat would not do, and why Luck insisted that they should bring the herd +to one particular point and no other, and why they must wear out their +horses, and themselves just fussing around among the cattle, scattering +one bunch, bringing others closer together, and driving certain animals +up to foreground, when they very much objected to going there. + +Luck had concealed his camera behind the rocks so that he could get a +"close shot" without registering the fact that the cattle were watching +him. His commands to "Edge that black steer over about even with that +white bank!" and later, "Put that cow and calf out this way and drive the +others back a little, so she will have the immediate foreground to +herself," were easier given than obeyed. The cow and calf, for instance, +were much inclined to shamble back with the others, and did not show any +appreciation for the foreground, wherein they were vastly unlike any +other "extras" ever brought before a camera. Still, in spite of all these +drawbacks, the moment arrived when Luck began to turn the crank with his +eyes keen for every detail of that bunch of forlorn, hungry, range cattle +huddled under the scant shelter of a ten-foot bank, while the snows fell +steadily in great flakes which Luck knew would give a grand storm-effect +on the screen. The Happy Family, free for the moment, crowded close to +the fire of dead sagebrush which Annie-Many-Ponies had lighted in the lee +of a high rock, and sniffed longingly at the smell which came steaming up +from the dented two-gallon coffee-boiler blackened from many a camp fire. + +Luck was turning the crank and watching his "foreground stuff" so that he +did not at first see the two riders who came loping down the hill which +he was using for background. Whether he would or no, he had got them in +several feet of good scene before he saw them and stopped his camera. He +shouted, but they came on headlong, slipping and sliding in the loose +snow. There could be no doubt that they were headed straight for the +group and felt that their business was urgent, so Luck stepped out from +behind the rocks and started toward them, motioning for them to keep out, +away from the cattle. + +"Better let me git in the lead right now," Applehead advised hastily, and +jumped in front of Luck as the two came lunging up. "I know these here +_hombres_, to my sorrer, too, now I'm tellin' yuh!" + +But Luck, feeling that his leadership might as well be established then +as any time, pushed the old man back. + +"What you want?" he demanded of the foremost who rode up. "Didn't you +hear me tell you to keep out around the cattle?" + +"_Adonde va V con mi vaca_?" snapped the first rider in high-keyed +Spanish. + +"My brother say where you go with our cattle?" interrupted the other one, +evidently proud of his English. + +"I know what he said," Luck snubbed this one bluntly. "I don't know that +they are your cattle. I don't care. We're using them to make motion +pictures. Get outa the way so we can go on with our work." Had he not +spoiled several feet of film because of their coming he might have been +more inclined to placate them. As it was, he did not welcome their +interference, he did not like their looks, and their tones were to his +temper as tow would be to a fire. Their half Mexican, half American dress +irritated him; the interruption exasperated him. He was hungry and cold +and keyed to a high nervous tension in his anxiety to make the most of +his present big opportunity; he knew too well that he might not have +another chance all winter, with the snow falling as if under his +direction. + +"Get over there outa range of the camera!" he commanded them sharply, +"then you can spout Mex. till you're black in the face, for all I care. +I'm busy." To make himself absolutely understood he repeated the gist of +his remarks in Spanish before he turned his back on them to finish his +interrupted scene. + +Whereupon one swore in Spanish and the other in English, and they both +declared that they would take their cattle right now, and reined their +horses toward the shifting herd. + +"Hold on thar, Ramone Chavez!" shouted Applehead, striding forward. +"Didn't you hear the boss tell ye to git outa the way, both of yuh? Yuh +better do it, now I'm tellin' yuh, 'cause if yuh don't, they's goin' to +be right smart of a runction around here! A good big share uh them thar +cattle belongs to me. Don't ye go messin' in there amongst 'em; you jest +ride back outa the way uh that thar camery. Git!" + +At Applehead's command they "got," at least as far as the camp fire, +where the bright shawl of Annie-Many-Ponies caught and held their +interest. Annie-Many-Ponies, being a woman who had both youth and +beauty and sensed instinctively the value of both, sent a slant-eyed +glance and a half smile toward Ramone, who possessed more good looks +and more English than his brother. The Happy Family eyed them with a +tolerant indifference and moved aside with reluctant hospitality when +Ramone dismounted shiveringly and came forward to warm his fingers over +the blaze. + +"She's cold day, you bet," Ramone remarked ingratiatingly. + +"She ain't what you could call hot," Big Medicine conceded drily, since +no one else showed any disposition to reply. + +"We don't get much snow like this. You live in Albuquerque, perhaps?" + +There was really no excuse for snubbing these two, who had been well +within their rights in making an investigation of this unheralded and +unauthorized gathering of all the cattle on this range. Andy told Ramone +where they were staying and where they came from, and let it go at that. +The less Americanized brother dismounted and joined the group with a nod +of greeting. + +"My brother Tomas," announced Ramone, with a flash of white teeth, his +eyes shifting unobtrusively toward Annie-Many-Ponies, who wore a secret, +half-smiling air of provocative interest in him. "Not spik much English, +my brother. Always stay too much at home. Me, I travel all over--Denver, +Los Angeles, San Francisco. I ride in all contests--Pueblo, San +Antonio--all over. Tomas, he go not so often. His head, all for +business--making money--get rich some day. Me, I spend. My hand wide open +always. Money slip fast." + +"There's plenty of us marked that way," Weary made good-natured comment, +turning so that his back might feel the heat of the fire. + +"Shunka Chistala!" murmured Annie-Many-Ponies in her soft contralto to +the little black dog, and moved away to the mountain wagon, with the dog +following close to her moccasined heels. + +Ramone looked after her with frank surprise at the strange words. "Not +Spanish, then?" he ventured. + +"Indian," the Native Son explained briefly, and added, perhaps for +reasons of his own, "Sioux squaw." + +Ramone very wisely let his curiosity rest there. He had a good excuse, +for Luck, having finished work for the time being, came tramping over to +the fire. At him Ramone glanced apologetically. + +"We borrow comfort from your fire, _senor_," he said indifferently. +"She's bad day for riding." + +Luck nodded, already ashamed of having lost his temper, yet not at the +point of yielding openly to any overtures for peace. "Soon as we eat," he +said to Weary and those others who stood nearest, "I'll have you cut out +that poor cow and calf and drive 'em down the flat here, so I can get +that other scene I was telling you about." + +"Wagalexa Conka, here is plenty hot coffee," came a soft voice at his +elbow, and Luck turned with a smile to take the steaming cup from the +hand of Annie-Many-Ponies. + +The Native Son poured a cup and offered it to Tomas Chavez. "_Quire +cafe_?" he asked. + +"_Si, senor; Gracias_." Tomas smiled, and took the cup and bowed. +Annie-Many-Ponies herself, with a sidelong glance at Luck to see if she +might dare, carried the biggest cup of coffee to Ramone, and smiled +demurely when he took it and looked into her eyes and thanked her. + +In this fashion did the social sky clear, even though the snow continued +to drive against those who broke bread together out there in the dreary +wastes, with the snow halfway to their knees. The Native Son, being half +Spanish and knowing well the language of his father, talked a little with +Tomas. Ramone made himself friendly with any one who would give him any +attention. But Applehead scowled over his boiled-beef sandwich and his +coffee, and kept his back turned upon the Chavez brothers, and would not +talk at all. He eyed them sourly when they still loitered after the meal +was over and the remains packed away in the box by Annie-Many-Ponies, and +Luck had gone to work again with Bill Holmes at his heels and the boys +helping to place the cattle to Luck's liking. + +When the Chavez brothers finally did show symptoms of intending to leave, +Luck beckoned to Tomas, whom he judged to be the leader. "Here," he said +in Spanish, when Tomas had come close to him. "I will pay you for using +your cattle. When I am through, my boys will drive them back to the mesa +again. For my picture I may need them again, _senor_. I promise you they +will not be harmed." And he charged in his expense book the sum, "to use +of locations." + +"_Gracias_," said Tomas, and took the five dollars which Luck could ill +afford to give, but which he felt would smooth materially the trail to +their future work. Cattle he must have for his picture; cattle he would +have at any cost,--but it would be well to have them with the consent of +their owners. So the Chavez brothers rode away with smiles for their +neighbors instead of threats, and with five dollars which had come to +them like a gift. + +"Yuh might better uh kicked 'em outa here without no softsoapin' about +it, now I'm tellin' yuh!" Applehead grumbled when they were out of +earshot. "You may know your business better'n what I do, but by thunder I +wouldn't uh give 'em no five dollars--ner five cents. 'S like feedin' a +stray dog; yuh won't never git rid of 'em now. They'll be hangin' around +under yer feet--" + +"At that, I might have use for them," Luck retorted unmoved. "They're +fine types." + +"Types!" old Applehead exploded indignantly. "Types! They're +sneak-thieves and cutthroats 't I wouldn't trust fur's I could throw a +bull by the tail. That's what they be. Types,--my granny!" + + + + +CHAPTER FOURTEEN + +"PLUMB SPOILED, D' YUH MEAN?" + + +Luck came out of the dark room with the still, frozen, look of a trouble +that has gone too deep for words. Annie-Many-Ponies eyed him aslant and +straightway placed the hottest, juiciest piece of steak on his plate, and +poured his coffee even before she poured for old Dave Wiswell, whom she +favored as being an old acquaintance of the Pine Ridge country. + +Once when her father, old chief Big Turkey, had broken his leg and +refused to have a doctor attend him, and had said that he would die if +his "son" did not make his leg well, Luck had looked as he looked now. +Still, he had set chief Big Turkey's leg so well that it grew straight +and strong again. Annie-Many-Ponies might be primitive as to her nature +and untutored as to her mind, but she could read the face of her brother +Wagalexa Conka swiftly and surely. Something was very bad in his heart. +Annie-Many-Ponies searched her soul for guilt, remembered the smile she +had given to Ramone Chavez whom Wagalexa Conka did not like, and +immediately she became humbled before her chief. + +Shunka Chistala--which is Sioux for little dog--she banished into the +cold, and hardened her heart, against his whining. It is true that +Wagalexa Conka had not forbidden her to have the little dog in the +house, but in his displeasure he might make the dog an excuse for +scolding her and for taking the part of Rosemary, who hated dogs in the +house, and who was trying, by every ingratiating means known to woman, +to make a friend of Compadre. Rosemary was a white woman and the wife of +Wagalexa Conka's friend; Annie-Many-Ponies was an Indian girl, not even +of the same race as her brother Wagalexa Conka. And although her vanity +might lead her to believe herself and her smile the cause of Luck's +mask-like displeasure, she had no delusions as to which side he would +take in an argument between herself and Shunka Chistala on the one side, +and Rosemary and Compadre on the other; and in the back of her mind +lived always the fear that Wagalexa Conka might refuse to let her stay +and work for him in pictures. + +Therefore Annie-Many-Ponies crouched humbly before the rock +fireplace, until Luck missed her at the table and told her to come +and eat; she came as comes a dog who has been beaten, and slid into +her place as noiselessly as a shadow,--humility being the heritage of +her sex and race. + +No one talked at all. Even Rosemary seemed depressed and made no attempt +to stir the Happy Family to their wonted cheerfulness. They were worn out +from their long day that had been filled with real hardships as well as +work. In the general silence, Luck's deeper gloom seemed consistent and +only to be expected; for hard as the others had worked, he had worked +harder. His had been the directing brain; his hand had turned the camera +crank, lest Bill Holmes, not yet familiar with his duties, might fail +where failure would be disaster. He had endured the cold and the storm, +tramping back and forth in the snow, planning, directing, doing literally +the work of two men. Annie-Many-Ponies alone knew that exhaustion never +brought just that look into Luck's face. Annie-Many-Ponies knew that +something was very bad in Luck's heart. She knew, and she trembled while +she ate with a precise attention to her table manners lest he chide her +openly before them all. + +"How long do you think this storm will last, Applehead?" Luck asked, when +he had walked heavily over to the fireplace for his smoke, and had drawn +a match sharply along the rough face of a rock. + +"We-ell, she's showin' some signs uh clearin' up to-night," Applehead +stated with careful judgment, because he felt that Luck's question had +much to do with Luck's plans, and was not a mere conversational bait. +"Wind, she's shiftin', er was, when I come in to supper. She shore come +down like all git-out ever since she started, and I calc'late she's about +stormed out. I look fer sun all day to-morrer, boy." This last in a tone +of such manifest encouragement that Luck snorted. (Back by the table in +the kitchen, Annie-Many-Ponies paused in her piling of plates and +listened breathlessly. She knew that particular sound. Wagalexa Conka +would presently reveal what was bad in his heart.) + +"That would be my luck, all right," her chief stated pessimistically. + +"What's the matter with the sun, now?" Big Medicine boomed reprovingly. +"Comin' in, you said you had your blizzard stuff, and now if the sun'd +jest come out, by cripes, you'd be singin' songs uh thanksgivin'--er +words to that effect. Honest to gran'ma, there's folks that'd kick if--" + +"But I haven't got my blizzard stuff," Luck stated, harshly because of +the effort to speak at all. "All that negative I took to-day is chuck +full of 'static.'" + +Annie-Many-Ponies, out in the kitchen, dropped a granite-iron plate, but +the others merely stared at Luck uncomprehendingly. + +"Well, say, by cripes! What's statics?" demanded Big Medicine +pugnaciously, as though he meant to ward off from his mind the +realization of some new misfortune. + +Luck's lips twitched in the faint impulse toward a smile that would not +come. "Statics," he explained, "is that branch of mechanics that relates +to bodies held at rest by the forces acting on them. In other words, it +is electricity in a stationary charge, the condition being produced by +friction, or induction. In other words--" + +"In other words," Big Medicine supplied glumly, "I can shut up and mind +my own business. I get yuh, all right!" + +"Nothing like that, Bud," Luck corrected more amiably, warmed a little by +the sympathy he knew would follow close upon the heels of understanding. +"Static is a technical word used a good deal in motion-picture +photography. In this case it was caused, I think, by the difference of +temperature in the metal parts of the camera and negative, and the +weather outside the camera box. I've been keeping it here in the house +where it's warm, and I took it out into the cold and started +work--_sabe_? And the grinding of the bearings, and the action of the +film on the race plate, generated static electricity in tiny flashes +which lighted up the interior of the camera and light-exposed the +negative, as it was passing from one magazine to another. When it's +developed, these flashes show up in contrasty lights, like tiny grape +vines; I can show you that part; I've got about a mile of it, more or +less, there in the dark room." + +"Plumb spoiled, d' yuh mean?" Big Medicine asked, his voice hushed before +the catastrophe. + +"Plumb spoiled." Luck threw his cigarette stub viciously into the +blaze. "All that drifting herd, all that panoram of Andy and +Miguel--all--everything I took to-day, with the exception of those last +scenes with the cow and calf. The one where the cow is down and the snow +drifting over her, and the calf huddled there by the carcass,--that's +dandy. Camera and negative were cold as the outside air by that time. +That one scene will stand out big; it's got an awful big punch, provided +I had the stuff leading up to it, which I haven't got." + +"Hell!" said Andy softly, voicing the dismay of them all. + +Presently old Applehead unlimbered himself from his chair and went out +into the cold and darkness. When he came back, ribbing his knuckles +for warmth, he stood before the fireplace and ruminated dispiritedly +before he spoke. + +"Ain't ary hope of it blizzardin' to-morrer, boy," he broke his silence +reluctantly, "'less the wind changes, which she don't act to me like +she's got ary notion of doin'; she's shore goin' to blind ye with sun +to-morrer, now I'm tellin' yuh." + +"Well, there won't be any more static in my film," Luck declared with +sudden decision, and carried his camera outside. When he returned +Applehead eyed him solicitously. + +"We-ell, this ain't but the middle uh November, yuh want to recollect," +he said. "We're liable to have purtier storms 'n what this here one was, +'fore winter's over. Cattle'll be in worse condition, too,--ribs stickin' +out so'st you kin count 'em a mile off 'n' more. Way winter's startin' +in, wouldn't s'prise me a mite if we had storms all through till spring +opens up." + +Luck knew the old man was trying in his crude way to encourage him, but +he made no reply, and Applehead relapsed into drowsy meditation over his +pipe. The boys, yawning sleepily, trailed off to bed in the Ketch-all +cabin. Rosemary and Annie-Many-Ponies, having finished washing the dishes +and tidying the kitchen, came through the room on their way to bed, +Annie-Many-Ponies cunningly hiding the little black dog behind her +skirts. Rosemary frowned at the two and went to the door and called +Compadre; but the blue cat, scenting a dog in the house, meowed his +regrets and would not come. + +"I'll take 'im down with me," said Applehead, rising stiffly. "He cain't +take no comfort in the house no more--not till he spunks up and licks +that thar dawg a time er two. Comin', Luck?" he added, waiting at the +door. But Luck was staring into the fire and did not seem to hear him, so +Applehead went off alone to where the Happy Family were already creeping +thankfully into their hard bunks. + +The house grew still; so still that Luck could hear the wind whispering +in the chimney, coming from the quarter which meant clearing weather. He +sighed, flung more wood on the coals to drive back the chill of the +night, and got out his scenario and some sheets of blank paper and a +pencil. He had sold his typewriter when he was raising money for this +trip, and he was inclined now to regret it. But he sharpened the pencil, +laid a large-surfaced "movie" magazine across his knees, and prepared to +revise his scenario to meet his present limitations. + +With a good thousand feet of film spoiled through no real fault of his +own, and with the expenses he knew he must meet looming inexorably before +him, he simply could not afford a leading woman. Therefore, he must +change his story, making it a "character" lead instead of the +conventional hero and heroine theme. Chance--he called it luck--had sent +him Annie-Many-Ponies, who "Wants no monies." He must change his story so +that she would fit into it as the necessary feminine element, but he was +discouraged enough that night to tell himself that, just as he had her +placed and working properly, the Indian Agent or her father, old Big +Turkey, would probably demand her immediate return. In his despondent +mood he had no faith in his standing with the Indians or in the letter he +had written to the Agent. His "one best bet", as he put it, was to make +her scenes as soon as possible, before they had time to reach him with a +letter; therefore he must reconstruct his scenario immediately, so that +he could get to work in the morning, whatever the weather. + +He read the script through from beginning to end, and his heart went +heavy in his chest. He did not want to change one scene of that Big +Picture. Just as it stood it seemed to him perfect in its way. It had the +bigness of the West when the West was young. It had the red blood of +courage, the strength of achievement, the sweetness of a great love. It +was, in short, Luck's biggest, best work. Still, without a woman to play +that lead-- + +Luck sighed and dampened his pencil on his tongue and drew a heavy line +through the scene where "Marian" first appeared in the story. It hurt him +like drawing a hot wire across his hand. It was his first real +compromise, his first step around an obstacle in his path rather than his +usual bold jump over it. He looked at the pencil mark and considered +whether he could not send for a girl young in the profession, who would +be satisfied with her transportation and thirty or forty dollars a week +while she stayed. He could make all her scenes and send her back. But a +little mental arithmetic, coupled with the cold fact that he did not know +of any young woman who was capable of doing the work he required and +would yet be satisfied with a small salary, killed that new-born hope. He +drew a line through the next scene where the girl appeared. + +When he had quite blotted the girl from his story, he was appalled at the +gap he must fill in the continuity and in the theme. He had left old Dave +Wiswell, his dried little cattleman, a childless old man--or else a +"squaw" man whose squaw has, presumably, died before the story began. +Somehow he could not "see" his cattleman as one who would set aside the +barrier of race and take a squaw for his wife. He could not see +Annie-Many-Ponies as anything save what she was--a beautiful young savage +with an odd adornment of civilized speech and some of the civilized +customs, it is true, but a savage for all that. He did not want to spoil +her by portraying her as a half-caste in his picture. + +He must make his story a man's story, with the full interest centered +about the man's hopes, his temptations, his achievements. The +woman--Annie, as he saw the woman now--must be of secondary interest. He +laid his head against the chair back in his favorite attitude for +uninterrupted thought, and stared into the fire. In this way he had +stared out into the night of the Dakota prairie; at first brooding in +discontent because things were not as he would have them, then drifting +into dreams of what he would like; then weaving his dreams together and +creating a something complete in itself. So had he created his Big +Picture,--the picture which was already beginning to live in the narrow +strips of negative. A few hundred feet of that negative were even dry and +filed away ready for cutting; unimportant scenes, to be sure, with all of +his "big stuff" yet to be produced. His mind went methodically over the +completed scenes, judging each one separately, seeking some change of +plot that would yet permit these scenes to be used. From there his +thought drifted to the day's work in the blizzard,--the day's work that +had been lost because of atmospheric conditions. Blizzard stuff he must +have, he told himself stubbornly. Not only was that a phase of the range +which he must portray if his picture were to be complete; he must have it +to lead the story up to that tragic, pitifully eloquent scene which had +come out clear and photographically perfect,--the scene of the old cow's +struggle against the storm and of her final surrender, too weak to match +her puny strength against the furies of wind and snow and cold. That +scene would live long in the minds of those who saw it; that scene alone +would lift his picture above the dead level of mediocrity. But he must +have another blizzard.... + +His eyelids drooped low over his tired eyes; through their narrowing +opening he stared at the yellow glow of the fire. Only half awake, he +dreamed of the herd drifting down that bleak hillside, with Andy and the +Native Son riding doggedly after them. Only half awake, his story +changed, grew indistinct, clarified in stray scenes, held aloof from +him, grew and changed, and was another story. And always in the +background of his mind went that drifting herd. Sometimes snow-whitened, +their backs humped in the wind, their heads lowered and swaying weakly +from side to side, the cattle marched and marched before him, sometimes +obscured by the blackness of night, a vague procession of moving +shadows; sometimes revealed suddenly when the lightning split the +blackness. Like a phantom herd-- + +"The phantom herd!" Aloud he cried the words. "_The Phantom Herd_!" He +sat up straight in his chair. Here was his title, for which his mind had +groped so long and could not grasp. His title-- + +"What--that you, Luck?" Andy Green's voice came sleepily from the next +room. "What yuh want?" + +"I've got my title!" Luck called back, his voice exultant. "And I've got +my story, too! Get up, Andy, and let me tell you the plot!" + +Whereupon Andy proved himself a real friend and an unselfish one. He felt +as if getting up out of bed was the final, supreme torture under which a +man may live; but he got up, for there was something in Luck's voice that +thrilled him even through the clogging sleep-hunger. Presently he was +sitting in his trousers and socks and shirt, sleepy-eyed beside Luck. + +"Shoot it outa your system," he mumbled, and began feeling stupidly for +his cigarette papers. "_E--a-ough!_" he yawned, if so inarticulate a +sound may be spelled. "I knew you'd have to work your story over," he +said, more normal of tone after the yawn. And he added bluntly, +"Rosemary's one grand little woman--but she couldn't act if you trained +her a thousand years. What's your next best bet?" + +"No next best; it's _the_ picture this time. _The Phantom Herd_. Get that +as a title?" + +"Gee!" Andy softly paid tribute. Then he grinned. "By gracious, they +sure didn't act to me like any phantom herd when we first headed 'em +into that wind!" + +"Them babies are going to march us up to a pile of real money, though," +Luck asserted eagerly. + +"Listen. Here's the story--the part I've changed; all the first part is +the same--the trail-herd and all. You're old Dave's son, and you're +wild. You quarrel, and he turns you out, thinking he'll let you rustle +for yourself awhile, and maybe tame down and come back more like he wants +you to be. But you don't tame that way. You throw in with Miguel, and you +two turn rustlers. You hold a grudge against your dad, and you rustle +from him mostly, on the plea that by rights what's his is yours--you +know. Annie is Mig's sweetheart, and she's a kind of go-between--keeps +you posted on what's taking place on the outside, and all that. I +haven't," he explained hastily, "doped out the details yet. I'm giving +you the main points I want to bring out. Well, here's the big stuff; you +get a big herd together. You're holding 'em in a box canyon,--I know the +spot, all right,--waiting for a chance to drive them outa the country; +see? This blizzard hits, and you take advantage of it to drive the herd +out under cover of the storm. But the blizzard beats you. You trail 'em +along, but there's only two of you, and you can't keep 'em from swinging +away from the wind. You try to hold the herd into the storm,--that's +where I'll get my big storm effects,--but they swing off in spite of you. +Your horses get tired; all you can do is follow the herd. Lord! I wish +that stuff I took to-day wasn't spoiled! I sure would have had some big +stuff there. Well, Mig's horse goes down in a drifted wash. You're trying +to point the herd then, and the storm's so thick you don't miss him at +first, we'll say. + +"Anyway, as I've doped it out, Mig loses his life. You find him +dead--whether then or later I don't know yet. The punch is this: You have +been getting pretty sick of the life, and wishing you had behaved +yourself and stayed with your dad. But you've been afraid of Mig. You +couldn't see any chance of taking the back trail as long as he was alive +to tell on you. Now he's dead. I guess maybe you better find him right +there in the blizzard--hurt maybe--anyway, just about all in. You try to +save him, _sabe_? You can't, though." + +"I still don't see no phantom herd," observed Andy, wriggling his toes +luxuriously in the warmth of the fire. + +"Well, listen. You'll see it in a minute. You go back home after your +pard's dead. You have a close squeak yourself, see? And the thing works +on your mind. Cutting out the frills, you see things. You see a herd +drifting before a storm, maybe,--a blizzard like yesterday, with your pal +riding point. You try to come up with it--no herd there. You come to +yourself and go back home. Then maybe some black night you're brooding +before a fire like this--I can get a great firelight effect on your face, +sitting like this"--Luck, actor that he was, made Andy see just how the +scenes would look--"have a flare in the fire to throw the light back on +you; see what I mean? And outside a thunderstorm is rolling up. A bright +flash of lightning startles you. You go to the door and open it; you see +the herd drifting past with Mig trailing along on his horse--black +shadows, and then standing out clear in the lightning--" + +"How the deuce--" + +"I'll do that with 'lap dissolves' and double exposures. Lots of work +that will be, and careful work, but the result will be--why, Lord! It +will be immense! That herd and the lone rider haunt you till you're on +the edge of being crazy. Then I'll bring out somehow that it's a nervous +condition, which of course it is. And I'll bring old Dave in strong; he +follows you some night, and he finds out what you're after. You tell +him--make a clean breast of your rustling, see? Just unburden your mind +to your dad. He's big enough to see that he isn't altogether clear of +guilt himself, for sending you off the way he did. Anyway, that pulls you +out of it. The phantom herd and rider pass over the sky line some +night--Lord, I can see what a picture I can get out of that!--and out of +your life." + +"Unh-hunh--that's a heap better than your first story, Luck." + +"Andy, are you boys going to talk all night?" the voice of Rosemary came +plaintively from the next room. + +"Here. You go back to bed," Luck generously commanded. "I just wanted to +get your idea of what it sounds like. I'll block it out before I turn in. +Go on, now." + +So Luck wrote his new story of _The Phantom Herd_ that night. He had a +midnight supper of warmed-over coffee and cold bean sandwiches, but he +did not have any sleep. When he had finished with a last big, artistic +scene that made his pulse beat faster in the writing of it, the white +world outside was growing faintly pink under the rising sun. + + + + +CHAPTER FIFTEEN + +A LETTER FROM CHIEF BIG TURKEY + + +Annie-Many-Ponies, keen of eye when her heart directed her glances, saw +the Kyle postmark on a letter while Applehead was sorting Luck's mail +from the weekly batch he had just brought. Luck also spied the Kyle +postmark and the familiar handwriting of George-Low-Cedar, who was a +cousin of Annie-Many-Ponies and the most favored scribe of Big Turkey's +numerous family. There was no mistaking those self-conscious shadings on +the downward strokes of the pen, or the twice-curled tails of all the +capitals. The capital M, for instance, very much resembled a dandelion +stem split and curled by the tongue of a little girl. + +George-Low-Cedar and none other had written that letter, and Big Turkey +himself had probably composed it in great deliberation over his pipe, +while the smoke of his _tepee_ fire curled over his head, and his squaw +crouched in the shadow listening stolidly while her heart ached with +longing for the girl-child who had gone a-wandering. Annie-Many-Ponies +slid unobtrusively to the door and flattened her back against the wall +beside it, ready to slip out into the dusk if she read in Wagalexa +Conka's face that the letter was unpleasant. + +Luck did not say a word while he held the letter up and looked at it; he +did not say a word, but Annie-Many-Ponies knew, as well as though he had +spoken, that he too feared what the contents might be. So she stood flat +against the wall and watched his face, and saw how his fingers fumbled at +the flap of the envelope, and how slowly he drew out the cheap, heavily +ruled, glazed paper that is sold alongside plug tobacco and pearl buttons +and safety pins in the Indian traders' stores. Staring from under her +straight brows at that folded letter, Annie-Many-Ponies had a swift, +clear vision of the little store set down in the midst of barrenness and +dust, and of the squaws sitting wrapped in bright shawls upon the +platform while their lords gravely purchased small luxuries within. As a +slim, barefooted papoose, proud of her shapeless red calico slip buttoned +unevenly up the back with huge white buttons, and of her hair braided in +two sleek braids and tied with strips of the same red calico, she had +stood flattened against the wall of the store while her father, Big +Turkey, bought tobacco. She had hoped that the fates might be kind and +send her a five-cent bag of red-and-white gum drops. Instead, Big Turkey +had brought her a doll,--a pink-cheeked doll of the white people. In her +cheap suitcase which she had carried wrapped in her shawl on her back to +the ranch, Annie-Many-Ponies still had that doll. So with her eyes fixed +upon the letter, her mind stared trance-like at the vision of that +long-ago day which had been to her so wonderful. + +Then Wagalexa Conka looked at her and smiled, and the vision of the store +and the slim, barefooted papoose with her doll vanished. The smile meant +that all was well, that she might stay with Wagalexa Conka and be his +Indian girl in the picture of _The Phantom Herd_. Annie-Many-Ponies +smiled back at him,--the slow, sweet, sphinx-like smile which Luck called +"heart-twisting,"--and slipped out into the night with her heart beating +fast in a strange mixture of joy that she might stay, and of homesickness +for the little store set down in the midst of barrenness and dust, and +for that long-ago day that had been so wonderful. + +"Read this," said Luck, still smiling, and gave the letter into the +flour-dusted hands of Rosemary. "Ever see a real, dyed-in-the-wool, +Indian letter? Sure takes a load off my mind, too; you never can tell how +an idea is going to hit an Indian. Pass it on to the boys." + +So Rosemary read, with the whole Happy Family crowding close to look over +her shoulder: + +Kyle, P. Office +Pine Ridge, So. D +Monday, Nov. + +Luck Lindsay +at Motion Pictures ranch, +Albequrqe, New M. + +Friend son, + +I this day gets letter from agent at agency who tell my girl you sisters +are now at New mexicos with you pictures. shes go way one days at night +times and to-morrow mornings i no find him. i am glad she sees you. you +Take care same as with shows them Buffalo bill. all indians have hard +times for cold and much hays and fires of prairies loses much. them +indians shake you hands with good hearts they have with you. send me blue +silks ribbon send Me pictures so i can see you. Again i shake you by +hand with good heart same as I see you. Speak one Letters quick again. + +you father, +BIG TURKEY. + +"Pretty good spelling, for an Indian letter," Rosemary commented +suspiciously. "Are you sure an Indian wrote it, Luck Lindsay?" + +"Why, certainly, I'm sure!" Luck was shuffling his other letters with the +air of a man whose mind has for the moment lost its load of trouble. +"George-Low-Cedar wrote it. I know his writing. He's Annie's cousin, and +he thinks he's highly educated. Indians have great memories, and once +they learn to spell a word, they never seem to forget it. They learn to +spell in school. What they don't learn is how to put the words together +the way we do. Cousin George is also shaky on capitals, you notice. Now +to-morrow we can go ahead with that big cattle-stuff. I can take my time +about making Annie's scenes; I was afraid I might have to rush them all +through first thing, so as to send her back. I'm sure glad she can stay; +she's good to have around, to help in the house." + +Rosemary screwed up her lips and gave him a queer look, but Luck had +turned his attention to another letter, and she did not say what was in +her mind. Annie-Many-Ponies, speaking theoretically, was good to have +around to help Rosemary. In actual practice, however, Rosemary found her +not so good. Personally Annie was fastidiously tidy, which Rosemary +ungenerously set down to youthful vanity rather than to innate +cleanliness. When it came to washing dishes, however, Annie-Many-Ponies +left much to be desired. She was prone to disappear about the time she +reached the biscuit-basin and the frying-pan stage of the thrice-daily +performance. She was prone to fancy she heard Wagalexa Conka calling her, +or Shunka Chistala barking in pursuit of the cat, or a hen cackling out +in the weeds; whatever the sound, it invariably became a summons which +Annie-Many-Ponies must instantly obey. Then she forgot to come back +within the next two or three hours, and Rosemary must finish the dishes +herself. But all this, as Rosemary well knew, was an unimportant detail +of the general scheme of work going on at Applehead's ranch. + +To her it seemed wonderful, the way Luck was pushing his picture to +completion against long odds sometimes, fighting some difficulty always. +Much as she secretly resented certain Indian traits in Annie-Many-Ponies, +and pleased as she would secretly have been if the girl had been recalled +to the reservation, she was generously relieved because Luck could now go +ahead with his round-up and trail-herd scenes while the weather was mild +and sunny, and need not hurry the Indian-girl scenes at all. + +In the ten days since the blizzard, Luck had worked hard. Some night +scenes in a cow-town he had already taken, driving late in the afternoon +into Albuquerque with his radium flares and his full company. Rosemary's +memory cherished those nights as rare and precious experiences. First +there were the old-time scenes, half Mexican in their atmosphere, when +the dried little man was young, and the trail-herd started north. For +these scenes Luck himself played the part of Dave Wiswell, turning the +camera work over to Bill Holmes. Then there were the scenes of a later +period,--scenes of carousal which depicted her beloved Andy as a very +wild young man who spent his nights riotously. One full day of sunshine +had also been spent at the stockyards there, taking shipping scenes. + +On this day the two women had stayed at home, and Rosemary had nearly +quarreled with Annie-Many-Ponies because Annie would not mend her +stockings, but had spent the whole afternoon teaching Shunka Chistala +to chase prairie dogs, the game being to try and frighten them away +from their holes and then catch them. Annie-Many-Ponies attended to the +strategic direction of the enterprise and let Shunka Chistala do most +of the running. The high, clear laughter of the girl and her +unintelligible cries to the little black dog had irritated Rosemary to +the point of tears. + +There had been no more days wasted because of spoiled film,--Luck was +carefully guarding against that,--and it seemed to Rosemary that there +were miles of it developed and dried and pigeon-holed, ready for +assembling. That part of the work she was especially interested in, +because it was done in the house. + +To her it might seem that miles of film had been made, but to Luck it +seemed as though the work crawled with maddening deliberation. Delays +fretted him. The mounting expense account worried him, though as a matter +of fact it mounted slowly, considering the work he was doing and the size +of the company he was maintaining. When he took film clippings to a town +photographer to have enlargements made for "stills,"--the pictures which +must accompany each set of prints as advertising matter,--the cost of the +work gave him the blues for the rest of that day. Then there were the +Chavez boys, whom he had found it expedient to use occasionally in his +big range scenes and in his "cow-town stuff." They had no conception of +regular rates as extras, but Luck had a conscience, and he had also +established a precedent. Whenever he used them in pictures, he gave Tomas +five dollars and left it to Tomas to divide with Ramone. And five +dollars, added to other fives and tens and twenty-fives, soon amounts to +an amazing whole when anxiety holds the pencil. + +As his story had changed and developed into _The Phantom Herd_ plot, it +had lengthened appreciably, because he could not and would not sacrifice +his big range stuff. And double exposures meant double work, of course. +He found himself with a five-reel picture in the making instead of the +four-reeler he had started to produce. Thus he was compelled to send for +more "raw stock." Also, he soon ran out of lumber for his interior sets +and must buy more. As the possibilities of his production grew plainer to +him, Luck knew that he could not slight a single scene nor skimp it in +the making. He could go hungry if it came to that, but he could not +cheapen his story by using make-shift settings. + +Thanksgiving came, and they scarcely knew it, for the weather was fine, +and they spent the day far afield and came in after dark, too tired to be +thankful for anything save the opportunity to sleep. + +Christmas came so suddenly that they wondered where the month had gone. +Christmas Eve the Happy Family spent in arranging a round-up camp out +behind the house where the hill rose picturesquely, and in singeing +themselves heroically in the heat of radium flares, while Luck took his +camp-fire scenes that were triumphs of lighting-effects and +photography,--scenes which he would later tone red with aniline dyes. + +Annie-Many-Ponies and Rosemary brought out the two-gallon coffee boiler +and a can of cream and a small lard pail of sugar, with cups and tin +spoons and a pan of boiled-beef and cold-bean sandwiches. Rosemary called +"Merry Christmas!" when the dying radium flares betrayed her approach, +and the Happy Family jumped up and shouted "Merry Christmas!" to her and +one another, just as exuberantly as though they had been celebrating +instead of adding six hours or so to a hard day's work. + +"That was beautiful, Luck Lindsay," Rosemary declared, giving him a bean +sandwich for which he declared himself "strong," and holding the sugar +bucket steady while he dipped into it three times. + +"We were watching from the house; and the boys' faces, the way you +had them placed, looked--oh, I don't know, but it just sent shivers +all over me, it was so beautiful. I just hope it comes out that way +in the picture!" + +"Better," mumbled Luck, taking great, satisfying bites into the sandwich. +"Wait till you see it--after it's colored--with the chuck-box end of the +wagon showing, and the night horses standing back there in the shadows; +she will sure look like a million dollars!" + +"She'll shore depict me cookin' and the smoke bilin' up," poor old +Applehead remarked lugubriously. "Last five minutes er so I could hear +grease a-fryin' on my shins, now I'm tellin' yuh!" + +"Well, they don't use radium flares in cold-storage plants," Luck +admitted reflectively. + +"I know, by cripes, I'm goin' to mend my ways," Big Medicine +declared meaningly. "I never realized b'fore how fire 'n brimstone's +goin' to feel!" + +"Well, I've got to hand it to you, boys," Luck praised them with a smile. +"You sat tight, and when I said 'Hold,' you sure held the pose. You +dissolved perfectly--you'll see." + +"Aw, gwan!" contradicted Happy Jack with his mouth full. "I never +dissolved; I plumb melted!" + +"If you boys could just see how beautiful you looked," Rosemary reproved, +starting on her second round with the coffee boiler. "I saw it from +behind the camera, and Luck had you sitting so the light was shining on +your faces; honestly, you looked _beautiful_!" + +"Aw, gwan!" gurgled Happy Jack, reddening uncomfortably. + +"It's late," Luck broke in, emptying his cup the second time. "But I'm +going to make that firelight scene of you, Annie. The wind happens to be +just right for the flame effect I want. Did you make up, as I told you?" + +For answer, Annie-Many-Ponies threw back her shrouding red shawl and +stepped proudly out before him in the firelight. Her brown arms were bare +and banded with bracelets of some dull metal. Her fringed dress of +deerskin was heavily embroidered with stained porcupine quills. Her slim +feet were clothed in beaded moccasins. It was the gala dress of the +daughter of a chief, and as the daughter of a chief she stood straight +and slender and haughty before him. The Happy Family stared at her, +astonished. They had not even known that she possessed such a costume. + +Ordinarily the Happy Family would have taken immediate advantage of their +freedom and would have gone to bed and to the sleep for which their tired +bodies hungered the more as the food and hot coffee filled them with a +sense of well-being. But not even Rosemary wanted to go and miss any of +that wonderful scene where Annie-Many-Ponies, young savage that she was, +stood in the light of her flaming camp fire and prayed to her gods before +she went to meet her lover. She rehearsed it once before Luck lighted the +radium flares. Then, in the searing heat of that white-hot flame, which +will melt rock as a candle melts, Annie-Many-Ponies crossed herself, and +then lifted her young face and bare arms to the heavens and prayed as the +priest in the mission school had taught her,--a real prayer in her own +Indian tongue, while Luck turned the crank and gloated professionally in +her beauty. + +The Happy Family, watching her, remembered that it was Christmas morning; +remembered oddly, in the midst of their work, the old, old story of the +three Wise Men and the Star, and of the Wonder-Child in the manger. +Something there was in the voice and the face of Annie-Many-Ponies that +suggested it. Something there was of adoration in her upturned glance, as +if she too were looking for the Star. + +They did not talk much after that, and when they did, their voices were +lower than usual. They banked the fire with sand, and Bill Holmes +shouldered the camera with its precious store of scenes. As they trooped +silently down to the house and to their beds, they felt something of the +magnitude of life, something of the mystery. Behind them, treading +noiselessly in her beaded deerskin moccasins, Annie-Many-Ponies followed +like a houseless wraith of the plains, the little black dog at her heels. + + + + +CHAPTER SIXTEEN + +"THE CHANCES IS SLIM AND GITTIN' SLIMMER" + + +"Must be going to snow," Weary observed with a sly twinkle, "'cause Paddy +cat has got his tail brustled up bigger than a trapped coon." + +"Aw, that's because Shunky Cheestely chased him all the way up from the +corral a minute ago," Happy Jack explained the phenomenon. "I betcher he +swaps ends some uh these times and gives that dog the s'prise of his +life. He come purty near makin' a stand t'night." + +"We-ell, when he does turn on that thar mongrel purp, they's goin' to be +some dawg scattered around over the premises--now I'm tellin' yuh!" +Applehead cocked his eye toward Annie-Many-Ponies and nodded his head in +solemn warning. "He's takin' a mighty long chance, every time he turns +that thar trick uh chasin' Compadre all over the place; and them that +thinks anything uh that thar dawg--" + +"I betcher it's goin' to snow, all right," Happy Jack interrupted the +warning. "Chickydees was swarmin' all over the place, t'day." + +"We-ell, now, yuh don't want to go too much on them chickydees," +Applehead dissented. "Change uh wind'll set them flockin' and chirpin'. +Ain't ary flake uh snow in the wind t'day, fur's I kin smell--and I +calc'late I kin smell snow fur's the next one." + +"Oh, let's not talk about snow; that's getting to be a painful subject on +this ranch," Rosemary pleaded, while she placed twelve pairs of steel +knives and forks on the long, white-oilcloth-covered table. + +"'Painful subject' is right," Luck stated grimly, glancing up from the +endless figuring and scribbling which seemed to occupy all his time +indoors that was not actually given over to eating and sleeping. "If +you don't begin to smell snow pretty quick, Applehead, I can see where +_The Phantom Herd_ don't have any phantom herd." The corners of his +mouth quirked upward, though his smile was becoming almost a stranger +to his face. + +"We-ell, I dunno's you can blame me because it don't snow. I can't make +it snow if it takes a notion not to snow--" + +"Oh, come and eat, and never mind the snow," called Rosemary impatiently. + +"We've got to mind the snow--or we don't eat much longer!" Luck laid +aside his papers with the tired gesture which betrays heavy anxiety. "The +whole punch of the picture depends on that blizzard and what it leads up +to. It's getting close to March,--this is the twentieth of February,--and +the Texas Cattleman's Convention meets the first of April. I've got to +have the picture done by then, so as to show it and get their endorsement +as a body, in order to boost the sales up where they belong." + +"Mamma!" Weary looked up at him, open-eyed. "How long have you had that +notion in your head,--showing the picture to the Cattlemen's Convention? +I never heard of it." + +"I might say quite a few things you haven't heard me say before," Luck +retorted, so harassed that he never knew how sharp a snub he had given. +"I've had that in mind from the start; ever since I read when and where +the convention would meet this spring. We've got to have that blizzard, +and we've got to have it before many more days." + +"Oh, well, we'll have it," Rosemary soothed, as she would have comforted +a child. "I just know March will come in like a roaring lion! Have some +beans. They're different, to-night. I cooked them with plain salt pork +instead of bacon. You can't imagine what a difference it makes!" + +Luck was on the point of snapping out something that would have hurt her +feelings. He did not want baby-soothing. It did not comfort him in the +least to have her assure him that it would snow, when he knew she had +absolutely no foundation for such an assurance. But just before he spoke, +he remembered how bravely she had been smiling at hardships that would +have broken the spirit of most women, so he took the beans and smiled at +her, and did not speak at all. + +Trouble, that month, was riding Luck hard. The blizzard that was +absolutely vital to his picture-plot seemed as remote as in June. Other +storms had come to delay his work without giving him the benefit of any +spectacular effect. There had been days of whooping wind, when even the +saddle strings popped in the air like whiplashes, and he could not +"shoot" interior scenes because he could not shelter his stage from the +wind, and everything blew about in a most maddening manner to one who is +trying, for instance, to portray the calmness of a ranch-house kitchen at +supper time. + +There had been days of lowering clouds which brought nothing but +exasperating little flurries of what Applehead called "spit +snow,"--flurries that passed before Luck could get ready for a scene. +There had been one terrific sand storm which had nearly caught them in +the open. But Applehead had warned them, and Luck, fortunately for them +all, had heeded the warning. They had reached shelter just before the +full force of the storm had struck them, and for six hours the air was a +hell of sand in violent flight through the air. For six hours they could +not see as far as the stable, and the rooms were filled with an +impalpable haze of dust which filtered through minute crevices under the +roof and around the doors and windows. + +Luck, when that storm broke, was worried over his negative drying in the +garret, until he had hurried up the ladder to see what might be done. He +had found the film practically dry, and had carried it down in much +relief to his dark room which, being light-proof, was also practically +dust-proof. + +There had been other vexations, but there had been fine, clear days as +well. Luck had used those fine days to their full capacity for yielding +him picture-light. Could he have been certain of getting his "blizzard +stuff" now, he would have left but his one load of financial worry. That +was a heavy one, but he felt he could carry it with a better grace if +only he could be sure that his picture would be completed in time. + +"Pass the beans, Luck," Pink broke into his abstraction. "Seems like I've +had beans before, this week, but I'll try them another whirl, anyway." + +"Ever try syrup on 'em?" old Dave Wiswell looked up from his plate to +inquire. "Once you git to likin' 'em that way, they go pretty good for +a change." + +Pink, anxious for variety in the monotonous menu, but doubtful of the +experiment, poured a teaspoon of syrup over a teaspoon of beans, conveyed +the mixture to his mouth, and made a hurried trip to the door. "Say! was +that a joke?" he demanded, when he returned grimacing to his place. + +"Joke? No, ain't no joke about that," the dried little man testified +earnestly. "Once you git to likin' 'em that way--" + +Pink scowled suspiciously. "I'll take mine straight," he said, and sent a +resentful glance at Annie-Many-Ponies who was tittering behind her palm. + +"I calc'late I better beef another critter," Applehead suggested +pacifically. "Worst of it is, the cattle's all so danged pore they ain't +much pickin' left on their bones after the hide's skun off. If that +blizzard ever does come, Luck's shore goin' to have all the pore-cow +atmosphere he wants!" + +To Luck their talk, good-humored though it was, hurt him like a blow upon +bruised flesh. For their faith in him they were eating beans three times +a day with laughter and jest to sweeten the fare. For their faith in him +they were riding early and late, enduring hardships and laughing at them. +If he failed, he knew that they would hide their disappointment under +some humorous phase of the failure;--if they could find one. He could not +tell them how close he was to failure. He could not tell them in plain +words how much hung upon the coming of that storm in time for him to +reach the cowmen at their convention. Their ignorance of the profession +kept them from worrying much about it; their absolute confidence in his +knowledge let them laugh at difficulties which held him awake when they +were sleeping. + +But for all that he went doggedly ahead, trusting in luck theoretically +while he overlooked nothing that would make for success. While Applehead +sniffed the air and shook his head, Luck was doing everything he could +think of to keep things going steadily along to a completion of the +production. + +He made all of his "close-ups," his inserts, and sub-titles. He cut +negative by his continuity sheet at night after the others were all in +bed, and pigeon-holed the scenes ready for joining. He ordered what +"positive" he would need, and he arranged for his advertising matter. All +his interior scenes, save the double-exposure "vision" scenes, were done +by the fifteenth of March,--March which had not come in like a roaring +lion, as Rosemary had predicted with easy optimism, but which had been +nerve-wrackingly lamblike to the very middle of the month. + +With a dogged persistence in getting ready for the fulfilment of his +hopes, he ordered tanks and printer for the final work of getting his +stuff ready for the market. He had at best a crudely primitive outfit, +though he saw his bank balance dwindle and dwindle to a most despairingly +small sum. And still it did not snow nor show any faint promise of snow. + +"Well," he remarked grimly one morning, when the boys asked him at +breakfast about his plans, "you can go back to bed, for all I care. I've +done everything I can do--till we get that snowstorm. All we can do now +is sit tight and trust to luck." + +"What day uh the month is this?" Applehead wanted to know. His face was +solemn with his responsibility as a weather prophet. + +"The twentieth day of March," Luck replied, with the air of one who has +the date branded deep on his consciousness. + +"Twentieth uh March--hm-mm? We-ell, now, I have knowed it to storm, and +storm hard, after this time uh year. But comin' the way she did last +fall, 'n' all this here wind 'n' bluster 'n' snowin' on the Zandias and +never comin' no further down, I calc'late the chances is slim, boy--'n' +gittin' slimmer every day, now I'm tellin' yuh!" + +"Well, say! Ain't yuh got a purty fair pitcher the way she stands?" Big +Medicine inquired aggressively. "Seems t' me we've done enough ridin' +and actin', by cripes, t' make half a dozen pitchers better'n what I've +ever saw." + +"That isn't the point." Luck's voice was lifeless, with a certain dogged +combativeness that had come into it during the last two months. "We've +got to have that storm. This isn't going to be any make-shift affair. +We've got some good film, yes. But it's like starting a funny story and +being choked off before you get to the laugh in it. We've got to have +that storm, I tell you!" His eyes challenged them harshly to dispute his +statement. + +"Well, darn it, have your storm, then. I'm willin'," Big Medicine +bellowed with ill-timed facetiousness. "Pink, you run and git Luck a +storm; git him a good big one, guaranteed to last 'im four days or money +refunded. You git one--" + +"Listen, Bud." Luck stood suddenly before Big Medicine, quivering with +nervous rage. "Don't joke about this. There's no joke in this at all. No +one with any brains can see anything funny in having failure stare him in +the face. Twelve of us have put every ounce of our best work and our best +patience and every dollar we possess in the world into this venture. I've +worked day and night on this picture. I've worked you boys in weather +that wasn't fit for a dog to be out in. I've seen Rosemary Green slaving +in this dark little hole of a kitchen because we can't afford a cook for +the outfit. You've all been dead game--I'll hand it to you for +that--every white chip has gone into the pot. If we fail we'll have to +borrow carfare to get outa here. And here's Applehead. We've used his +ranch, we've used his house and his horses and himself; we've killed his +cattle for beef, by ----! And we've got just that one chance--the chance +of a storm--for winning out. One chance, and that chance getting slimmer +every day, as he says. No--there's no joke in this; or if there is, I've +lost my appetite for comedy. I can't laugh." He stopped as suddenly as he +had begun his rapid speech, caught up his hat, and went out alone into +the soft morning sunlight. He left silence behind him,--a stunned silence +that was awkward to break. + +"It's a perfect shame!" Rosemary said at last, and her lips were +trembling. "He's just about crazy--and I know he hasn't slept a wink, +lately, just from worrying." + +"I calc'late that's about the how of it," Applehead agreed, rubbing his +chin nervously. "He lays awful still, last few weeks, and that thar's a +bad sign fer him. And I ain't heerd 'im talkin' in his sleep lately, +either. Up till lately he made more pitchers asleep than he done awake. +Take it when things was movin' right along, Mis' Green, 'n' Luck was +shore talkative, now I'm tellin' yuh!" + +"My father, he got one oncle," Annie-Many-Ponies spoke up unexpectedly +from her favorite corner. "Big Medicine man. Maybe I write one letter, +maybe Noisy-Owl he come, make plenty storm. Noisy-Owl, he got awful +strong medicine for make storm come." + +"Well, by cripes, yuh better send for 'im then!" Big Medicine advised +gruffly, and went out. + + + + +CHAPTER SEVENTEEN + +THE STORM + + +_The Phantom Herd_, as the days slipped nearer and nearer to April, might +almost have been christened _The Forlorn Hope_. On the twenty-first the +sun was so hot that Luck rode in his shirt sleeves to Albuquerque, +stubbornly intending to order more "positive" for his prints in the final +work of putting his Big Picture into marketable form. He did not have the +slightest idea of where the money to pay for the stuff was coming from, +but he sent the letter ordering the stock sent C.O.D. He was playing for +big results, and he had no intention of being balked at the last minute +because of his timidity in assuming an ultimate success which was +beginning to look extremely doubtful. + +On the twenty-second, a lark flew impudently past his head and perched +upon a bush near by and sang straight at him. As a general thing Luck +loved to hear bird songs when he rode abroad on a fine morning; but he +came very near taking a shot at that particular lark, as if it were +personally responsible for the sunny days that had brought it out +scouting ahead of its kind. + +On the twenty-third the sky was a brassy blue, and Applehead won Luck's +fierce enmity by remarking that he "calc'lated he'd better get his garden +in." Luck went away off somewhere on the snuffy little bay, that day, and +did not return until after dark. + +On the twenty-fourth he took the boys away back on the mesa, where the +mountains shoulder the plain, and scattered them on a wide circle, +rounding up the cattle that had been permitted to drift where they would +in their famished search for the scant grass-growth. Bill Holmes and the +camera followed him in the buckboard with the lunch, and Luck, when the +boys had met with their gleanings, "shot" two or three short scenes of +poor cows and their early calves, which would go to help along his range +"atmosphere." To the Happy Family it seemed a waste of horseflesh to comb +a twenty-mile radius of mesa to get a cow and calf which might have been +duplicated within a mile of the ranch. The Happy Family knew that Luck +was wading chin deep in the slough of despond, and they decided that he +kept them riding all day just for pure cussedness. + +I suppose they thought that his orders to range-herd the cattle they had +gathered came from the same mood, but they did not seem to mind. They +did whatever he told them to do, and they did it cheerfully,--which, in +the circumstances, is saying a good deal for the Happy Family. So with +the sun warm as early May, and the new grass showing tiny green +blade-tips in the sheltered places, they began range-herding two +thousand head of cattle that needed all the territory they could cover +for their feeding grounds. + +The twenty-fifth day of March brought no faintest promise of anything +that looked like snow. Applehead sharpened his hoe and went pecking at +the soil around the roots of his grape-vine arbor, thereby irritating +Luck to the point of distraction. He had reached a nervous tension where +he could not eat, and he could not sleep, and life looked a nightmare of +hard work and disappointments, of hopes luring deceitfully only to crush +one at the moment of fulfilment. + +It was because he could not sleep, but spent the nights stretched upon +his side with his wide-open eyes boring into vacancy and a drab future, +that he heard the wind whine over the ridgepole of the squat bunk-house +and knew that it had risen from a dead calm since bedtime. The languor of +nervous exhaustion was pulling his eyelids down over his tired eyes, and +he knew that it must be nearly morning; for sleep never came to him now +until after Applehead's brown rooster had crowed for two o'clock. + +He closed his eyes and dreamed that he was "shooting" blizzard scenes +with the snow to his armpits. He was chilled to the middle of his bones, +and his hand went down unconsciously and groped for the blankets he had +pushed off in his restlessness. In his sleep he was yelling to the +Cattlemen's Convention to wait,--not to adjourn yet, because he had +something to show them. + +"Well, show'em, dang it, an' shut up!" muttered Applehead crossly, and +turned over on his good ear so that he could sleep undisturbed. + +Luck, half awakened by the movement, curled up with his knees close to +his chin and went on with his dream. With the wind still mooing +lonesomely around the corners of the house, he slept more soundly than he +had slept for weeks, impelled, I suppose, by a subconscious easement from +his greatest anxiety. + +A slow tap-tap-tapping on the closed door near his head woke him just +before dawn. The lightest sleeper of them all, Luck lifted his head with +a start, and opened his sleep-blurred eyes upon blackness. He called out, +and it was the voice of Annie-Many-Ponies that answered. + +"Wagalexa Conka! You come quick. Plenty snow come. You be awful glad +when you see. Soon day comes. You hurry. I make plenty breakfast, +Wagalexa Conka." + +As a soldier springs from sleep when calls the bugle, Luck jumped out +into the icy darkness of the room. With one jerk he had the door open and +stood glorying in the wild gust of snow that broke over him like a wave. +In his bare feet he stood there, and felt the snow beat in his face, and +said never a word, since big emotions never quite reached the surface of +Luck's manner. + +"Day come quick, Wagalexa Conka!" The voice of Annie-Many-Ponies urged +him from without, like the voice of Opportunity calling from the storm. + +"All right. You run now and have breakfast ready. We come quick." He held +the door open another half minute, and he heard Annie-Many-Ponies laugh +as she fought her way back to the house through the blinding blizzard. He +saw a faint glow through the snow-whirl when she opened the kitchen door, +and he shut out the storm with a certain vague reluctance, as though he +half feared it might somehow escape into a warm, sunny morning and prove +itself no more than a maddeningly vivid dream. + +"Hey! Wake up!" he shouted while he groped for a match and the lamp. +"Roll into your sourdoughs, you sons-uh-guns--" + +"Say, Applehead," came a plaintive voice from Pink's hunk, "make +Luck turn over on the other side, can't yuh? Darn a man that talks +in his sleep!" + +"By cripes, Luck's got to sleep in the hay loft--er I will," Big Medicine +growled, making the boards of his bunk squeak with the flop of his +disturbed body. + +Then Luck found the lamp and struck a match, and it was seen that he was +very wide awake, and that his face had the look of a man intent upon +accomplishment. + +The Native Son sat up in one of the top bunks and looked down at Luck +with a queer solemnity in his eyes. "What is this, _amigo_?" he asked +with a stifled yawn. "Another one of your Big Minutes?" + +"_Quien sabe_?" Luck retorted, reaching for his clothes as his small +ebullition subsided to a misleading composure. "Storm's here at last, and +we'll have to be moving. Roll out and saddle your ridge-runners; Annie's +got breakfast all ready for us." + +"Aw, gwan!" grumbled Happy Jack from sheer force of habit, and made haste +to hit the floor with his feet before Luck replied to that apparent doubt +of his authority. + +"Dress warm as you can, boys," Luck advised curtly, lacing his own heavy +buckskin moccasins over thick German socks, which formed his cold-weather +footgear. "She's worse than that other one, if anything." + +"Mamma!" Weary murmured, in a tone of thanksgiving. "She didn't come any +too soon, did she?" + +Luck did not reply. He pulled his hat down low over his forehead, opened +the door and went out, and it was as though the wind and snow and +darkness swallowed him bodily. The horses must first be fed, and he +fought his way to the stables, where Applehead's precious hay was +dwindling rapidly under Luck's system of keeping mounts and a four-horse +team up and ready for just such an emergency. He labored through the +darkness to the stable door, lighted the lantern which hung just inside, +and went into the first stall. The manger was full, and the feed-box +still moist from the lapping tongue of the gray horse that stood there +munching industriously. Annie-Many-Ponies had evidently fed the horses +before she called Luck, and he felt a warm glow of gratitude for her +thoughtfulness. + +He stopped at the bunk-house to tell the boys that they had nothing to do +but eat breakfast before they saddled, and found them putting on +overcoats and gloves and wrangling over the probable location of the herd +that would have drifted in the night. So they ploughed in a straggling +group to the house, where Annie-Many-Ponies was already pouring the +coffee when they trooped in. + +Day was just breaking when they rode out into the full force of the +belated storm and up on the mesa where they had left the cattle scattered +and feeding more or less contentedly at sundown. They had not gone a mile +until their bodies began to shrink under the unaccustomed cold. Bill +Holmes, town-bred and awkward in the open, thankfully resigned to the +Indian girl the dignity of driving the mountain wagon with its four-horse +team, and huddled under blankets, while Annie-Many-Ponies piloted them +calmly straight across country in the wake of the riders whom her beloved +Wagalexa Conka was leading on the snuffy bay. Save for the difference in +his clothes, Annie-Many-Ponies thought that he much resembled that great +little war-chief of the white people who rode ahead of his column in a +picture hanging on the wall of the mission school. Napoleon was the great +little war-chief's name, and her heart swelled with pride as she drove +steadily through the storm and thought what a great war-chief her brother +Wagalexa Conka might have made, were these but the days of much fighting. + +There was to be no trouble with "static" this time, if Luck could help +it. To be doubly safe from blurred film, he had brought his ray filter +along, for the flakes of snow were large and falling fast. He had chosen +a different location, because of the direction of the wind and the +difficulty the boys would have had in driving the cattle back in the face +of it to the side hill where he had first taken the scenes of the +drifting herd. + +To-day he "shot" them first as they were filing reluctantly out through a +narrow pass which was supposed to be the entrance to the box canyon where +the two rustlers, Andy and Miguel, had kept them hidden away. +Artistically speaking, the cattle were in perfect condition for such a +scene, every rib showing as they trooped past the clicking camera +cleverly concealed in a clump of bushes; hip bones standing up, lean legs +shambling slowly through the snow that was already a foot deep. Cattle +hidden for days and days in a box canyon would not come out fat and sleek +and stepping briskly, and Luck was well pleased with the realism of his +picture, even while he pitied the poor beasts. + +Later he took the drifting of the herd, and he knew in his heart that the +scenes were better than those he had lost. He took tragic scenes of the +Native Son in his struggle to keep up and to keep going. He took him as +he fell and lay prone in the snow beside his fallen horse while the +blizzard whooped over him, and the snow fell upon his still face. In his +zeal he nearly froze the Native Son, who must lie there during two or +three "cut-back" scenes, and while Andy was coming up in search of him. +When Andy lifted him and found him actually limp in his arms, the anxiety +which a "close-up" revealed in his face was not all art. However, he did +not say anything until Luck's voracious scene-appetite had been at least +partially satisfied. + +"By gracious, I believe the son-of-a-gun is about froze," he snapped out +then; Luck grinned mirthlessly and called to Annie for the precious +thermos bottle, and poured a cup of strong black coffee, added a generous +dash of the apricot brandy which he spoke of familiarly as his +"cure-all," and had the Native Son very much alive and tramping around to +restore the circulation to his chilled limbs before Bill Holmes had +carried the camera to the location of the next scene. + +"By rights I should have left you the way you were till I got this last +death scene where Andy buries you under the rock ledge so he can get home +alive himself," Luck told Miguel heartlessly, when they were ready for +work again. "You were in proper condition, brother. But I'm human. So +you'll have to do a little more acting, from now on." + +With his mats placed with careful precision, he took his dissolve +"vision stuff" of the blizzard and the death of Miguel,--scenes which +were to torment the conscience of Andy the rustler into full repentance +and confession to his father. While the boys huddled around Annie's camp +fire and guzzled hot coffee and ate chilled sandwiches, Luck took some +fine scenes of the phantom herd marching eerily along the skyline of a +little slope. + +He "shot" every effective blizzard scene he had dreamed of so +despairingly when the weather was fine. Some scenes of especial +importance to his picture he took twice, so as to have the +"choice-of-action" so much prized by producers. This, you must know, was +a luxury in which Luck had not often permitted himself to indulge. With +raw negative at nearly four cents a foot, he had made it a point to shoot +only such scenes as gave every promise of being exactly what he wanted. +But with this precious blizzard that numbed his fingers most +realistically while he worked, but never once worried him for fear the +sun was going to shine before he had finished, he was as lavish of +negative as though he had a million-dollar corporation at his back. + +That evening, when they were luxuriating before the fireplace heaped with +dry wood which the flames were licking greedily, Luck became, for the +first time in months, the old Luck Lindsay who had fascinated them at the +Flying U. He told them stories of his days with the "Bill show," and +called upon the giggling Annie-Many-Ponies for proof of their truth; +whereat Annie-Many-Ponies would nod her head vigorously and declare that +it was "No lie. I see him plenty times do them thing. I know." He +disputed energetically with Big Medicine over the hardships of the day's +work; and as a demonstration of the fact that he was perfectly able to go +out right then and shoot another seven hundred feet of film, he seized +upon the _tom-tom_ which Annie-Many-Ponies had made from a green calf +hide and an old cheese box, and in his moccasins he danced the Sioux +Buffalo Dance and several other dances in which Annie-Many-Ponies finally +joined and teetered around in the circle which the Happy Family +enthusiastically widened for the performers. + +Work there was yet to do, and plenty of it. Even if the weather came +clear on the morrow as he desired, he must make every minute count, if he +would take his picture to the Cattlemen's Convention. Work there was, and +problems there were to be solved. But he had his big blizzard stuff, and +he had his scenes of the phantom herd. So for an hour or two, on this +evening of triumph, Luck Lindsay threw care into a far corner, and danced +and sang as the Happy Family had never known he could do. + +"Here, Annie, take the drum; it's 'call the dog and put out the fire and +all go home.' If my luck stays with me, and the sun shines to-morrow, +we'll take these interiors of the double-exposure stuff. And then we'll +be eating on the run and sleeping as we ride, till that picture pops out +on the screen for the old cattlemen to see. Good night, folks; I'm going +to sleep to-night!" + +He went out whistling like a schoolboy going fishing. For luck was with +him once more, and his _Phantom Herd_ was almost a reality as a picture. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHTEEN + +A FEW OF THE MINOR DIFFICULTIES + + +However obliging fate may desire to be, certain of nature's laws must +be observed. Whether luck was disposed to stay with Luck Lindsay or +not, a storm such as the fates had conjured for his needs could not +well blow itself out as suddenly as it had blown itself in; so Luck did +not get all of his interior double-exposure stuff done the next day, +nor his remaining single-exposure stuff either. When his own reason and +Applehead's earnest assurances convinced him that the day after the +real blizzard day was going to be unfit for camera work, Luck took +Weary, Pink, and the Native Son to Albuquerque, rented a little house +he had discovered to be vacant, and set them to work building a drying +drum for his prints, according to the specifications he furnished them. +He hauled his tanks from the depot and showed the boys how to install +them so as to have the benefit of the running water, and got his +printer set up and ready to work; for he knew that he would have to +make his first prints himself, with the help of the Happy Family, the +photographer having neither the room nor the time for the work, and +Luck having no more than barely money enough to pay house rent and the +charges on his tanks and printer. + +Then, being an obliging young man when the fates permitted him to indulge +his natural tendencies, Luck made a hurried trip to a certain little shop +that had dusty mandolins and watches and guns and a cheap kodak in the +dingy window. He went in with his watch in his pocket ticking cheerfully +the minutes and hours that were so full of work and worry. When he came +out, the watch was ticking just as cheerfully in a drawer and the chain +was looped prosperously across his vest from buttonhole to empty pocket. +He went straight across to a grocery store and bought some salt pork and +coffee and cornmeal and matches which Rosemary had timidly asked him if +he could get. She explained apologetically that she was beginning to run +out of things, and that she had no idea they were going to have such +awful appetites, and that of course there were two extra people to feed, +and that they certainly could dispose of their share three times a +day,--meaning, of course, Annie-Many-Ponies and Bill Holmes. + +Even while his brain was doing swift mental gymnastics in addition and +subtraction, Luck had told her he would get whatever she wanted. His +watch brought enough to buy everything she asked for except a can of +syrup; and that, he told her, the groceryman must have overlooked, for he +certainly had ordered it. He called the groceryman names enough to +convince Rosemary that her list had not been too long for his purse, and +that Luck's occasional statement that he was broke must be taken +figuratively; Luck breathed a sigh of relief that Rosemary, at least, was +once more spared the knowledge that all was not yet plain sailing to a +smooth harbor. + +The next day being sunny, Luck finished the actual camera work on _The +Phantom Herd_. That night he and Bill Holmes developed every foot of +negative he had exposed since the storm began, and they finished just as +Rosemary rapped on the darkroom door and called that breakfast was +ready. Bill took it for granted that he could sleep, then, while the +negative was drying; but Luck was merciless; that Cattlemen's Convention +was only two days off,--counting that day which was already begun,--and +there was also a twelve-hour train trip, more or less, between his +picture and El Paso. + +Bill Holmes had learned to join film in movie theaters, and Luck set him +to work at it as soon as he had finished his breakfast. When Bill +grumbled that there wasn't any film cement, Luck very calmly went to his +trunk and brought some, thereby winning from Rosemary the admiring +statement that she didn't believe Luck Lindsay ever forgot a single, +solitary thing in his life! So Bill Holmes assembled the film, scene by +scene, without even the comfort of cigarettes to keep awake. At his elbow +Luck also joined film until the negative in the garret was dry enough to +handle, when he began cutting it according to the continuity sheet, ready +for Bill to assemble. + +Luck's mood was changeable that day. He would glow with the pride of +achievement when he held a yard or so of certain scenes to the light and +knew that he had done something which no other producer had ever done, +and that he had created a film story that would stand up like a lone peak +above the level of all other Western pictures. When those night scenes +were tinted--and that scene which had for its sub-title _Opening +Exercises_, and which showed the Happy Family mounting Applehead's +snakiest bronks and riding away from camp into what would be an orange +sunrise after the positive had been through its dye bath-- + +And then discouragement would seize him, and he would wonder how he was +going to get hold of money enough to take him to El Paso and the +Convention. And how, in the name of destitution, was he going to pay for +that stock of "positive" when it came? Applehead was dead willing to help +him,--that went without saying; but Applehead was broke. That last load +of horse-feed had cleaned his pockets, as he had cheerfully informed Luck +over three weeks before. Applehead was not, and never would be by his own +efforts, more than comfortably secure from having to get out and work for +wages. He had cattle, but he let them run the range in season and out, +and it was only in good years that he had fair beef to ship. He hated a +gang of men hanging around the ranch and eating their fool heads off, he +frequently declared. So he and Compadre had lived in unprosperous peace, +with a little garden and a little grape arbor and a horse for Applehead +in the corral, and teams in the pasture where they could feed and water +themselves, and a month's supply of "grub" always in the house. Applehead +called that comfort, and could not see the advantage of burdening himself +with men and responsibilities that he might pile up money in the bank. +You can easily see where the coming of Luck and his outfit might strain +the financial resources of Applehead, even though Luck tried to bear all +extra expense for him. No, thought Luck, Applehead would have to mortgage +something if he were to attempt raising money then. And Luck would have +taken a pack-outfit and made the trip to El Paso on horseback before he +would see Applehead go in debt for him. As it was, he was seriously +considering that pack-horse proposition as a last resort, and trying to +invent some way of shaving his work down so that he would have time for +the trip. But certain grim facts could not be twisted to meet his needs. +He simply had to print his positive for projection on the screen. And +that positive simply had to go through certain processes that took a +certain amount of time; and it simply had to be dry and polished before +he could wind it on his reels. Reels? Lord-ee! He didn't have any reels +to +wind it on! + +"What's the matter? Spoil something?" Bill Holmes asked indifferently, +pausing to look at Luck before he took up the next strip of celluloid +ribbon with its perforated edges and its little squares of shadowlike +pictures that to the unpractised eye looked all alike. + +"No. What reel is that you're on now? We want to be in town before dark +with this stuff, so as to start the printer going to-night." By +printing, that night, and by hard riding, he might be able to make it, +he was thinking. + +"Think we'll be through in time?" + +"Certainly, we'll be through in time." Luck held up another strip to see +where to cut it. "We've got to be through!" + +"I'm liable to be joining this junk by the sides instead of the ends, +before long," Bill hinted. + +"No, you won't do anything like that." Luck's voice had a disturbing note +of absolute finality. + +Bill looked at him sidelong. "A fellow can't work forever without sleep. +My head's splitting right now. I can hardly see--" + +"Yes, you can see well enough to do your work--and do it right! +Get that?" + +Bill grunted. Evidently he got it, for he said no more about his head, or +about sleep. He did glance frequently out of the tail of his eye at +Luck's absorbed face with his jaw set at a determined angle and his great +mop of iron-gray hair looking like a heavy field of grain after a +thunderstorm, standing out as it did in every direction. Now and then +Luck pushed it back impatiently with the flat of his palm, but he showed +no other sign of being conscious of anything at all save the picture; +though he could have told you offhand just how many times Bill turned +his eyes upon him. + +At noon they were not through, and to Bill the attempt to finish that day +seemed hopeless, not to say insane. But by four o'clock they were done +with the cutting and joining, and had their film carefully packed and in +the mountain wagon, and were ready to drive through the slushy mud which +was the aftermath of the blizzard to the little house in Albuquerque +which the boys had turned into a crude but efficient laboratory. + +There Luck continued to be merciless in his driving energy. He canvassed +the moving-picture theaters of the town and borrowed reels on which to +wind his film when it was once ready for winding. He went back to the +little house and set every one within it to work and kept them at it. He +printed his positive, dissolved his aniline dye, which was to be +firelight effect, in the bathtub,--and I should like to know what the +landlord thought when next he viewed that tub! He made an orange bath for +sunrise effects in one of the stationary tubs, and his light blue for +night tints in the other. He buzzed around in that little house like a +disturbed blue-bottle fly that cannot find an open window. He had his +sleeves rolled to his shoulders and his hair more tousled than ever; he +had blue circles under his eyes and dabs of dye distributed here and +there on his face and his arms; he had in his eyes the glitter of a man +who means to be obeyed instantly and implicitly, whatever his command may +be,--and if you want to know, he was obeyed in just that manner. + +Happy Jack and Big Medicine took turns at the crank of the big drying +drum, around which Andy and Weary had carefully wound the wet film. Being +a crude, home-made affair, the crank that kept that drum turning over and +over did not work with the ease of ball-bearings. But Happy Jack, rolling +his eyes up at Luck when he hurried past to attend to something +somewhere, did not venture his opinion of the task. Nor did Big Medicine +bellow any facetious remarks whatever, but turned and sweated, and used +the other hand awhile, and turned and turned, and goggled at Luck +whenever Luck came within his range of vision, and changed off to the +other hand and turned and turned, and still said nothing at all. + +Bill Holmes went to sleep about midnight and came near ruining a batch of +firelight scenes in the analine bath, and after that Luck did all the +technical part of the work himself. The Happy Family did what they could +and wished they were not so ignorant and could do more. They could not, +for instance, help Luck in the final assembling of the polished film and +the putting in of the sub-titles and inserts. But they could polish that +film, after he showed them how; so Pink and Weary did that. And at +daylight Luck shook Bill Holmes awake and set him to work again. + +Just to show that Luck was human, even though he was obsessed by a frenzy +of work, he sent the boys outside, whenever one of them could be spared, +for the smoke they craved and could not have among that five thousand +feet of precious but highly inflammable film. But he did not treat +himself to the luxury of a cigarette. + +Luck had not yet solved the problem of meeting the expense of the trip +to El Paso. Riding down with a pack-horse would take him too long; the +best he could do would not be quick enough; for the Convention would be +over before he got there, and his trip therefore useless. He worked +just as fast, however, as though he had only to buy his ticket and take +the train. + +And then, when the last drumful was drying, he got his idea, and took +Andy by the shoulder and led him out into the little front hall. "Boy," +he said, "you hook up the team and drive like hell out to the ranch and +get the camera and all the lenses. And right under the lid of my trunk +you'll find a letter file marked Receipts. In the C pocket you'll find +the sales slips of camera and so on; you bring them along. And bring my +bag and any clean socks and handkerchiefs you can find, and my gray suit +and some collars and ties. Oh, and my shoes. Make it back here by two +o'clock if you can; before three at the latest." + +"You bet yuh," assented Andy just as cheerfully as though he saw some +sense in the order. Luck's clothes were a reasonable request, but Andy +could not, for the life of him, figure any use for the camera and lenses; +and as for the receipts, that sounded to him like plain delirium. Andy's +brain, at that time, seemed to be revolving slowly round and round like +the big drying drum, and his thoughts were tangled in exasperating +visions of long, narrow strips of wet film. + +However, at two-thirty he drove smartly up to the little house with the +camera and Luck's brown leather bag packed with the small necessities of +highly civilized journeying, and a large flat package wrapped in old +newspapers. He had not set the brake that signalled the sweating horses +to stop, before Luck was in the doorway with his hat on his head and the +air of one whose business is both urgent and of large issues. + +"Got the receipts? All right! Where are the things? This the lenses? All +right! Put the team in the stable and go get yourself some rest." + +"Where's your rest coming in at?" Andy flung back over his shoulder, as +Luck turned away with the camera on his shoulder and the small case in +his hands. + +"Mine will come when I get through. I've got the last reel wound and +packed, though. You bed down somewhere and sleep. I'll be back in a +little. I'm going to catch that four o'clock train." + +When you consider that Luck made that statement with about fifteen cents +in his pocket and no ticket, you will understand why Andy gave him that +queer look as he drove off to the stable. Luck might have climbed up +beside Andy and ridden part of the way, but he was too preoccupied with +larger matters to think of it until he found himself picking his footing +around the mud through which Andy had splashed in comfort. + +At the bank, Luck went in at the side door which gave easy access to the +office behind; and without any ceremony whatever he tapped on a certain +glass-paneled door with a name printed across. He waited a second, and +then turned the knob and walked briskly in, carrying camera, tripod, and +the case of small attachments, and smiling his smile of white teeth and +perfect assurance and much good will. + +Now, the cashier whom he faced was a tall man worn thin with the worries +of his position and the care of a family. He lived in a large white +house, and his wife never seemed able to find a cook who could cook; so +the cashier was troubled with indigestion that made his manner one of +passive irritation with life. His children were for some reason forever +"coming down" with colds or whooping-cough or measles or something (you +have seen children like that), so his eyes were always tired with wakeful +nights. It needed a Luck Lindsay smile to bring any answering light into +the harassed face of that cashier, but it got there after the first +surprised glance. + +Luck stood his camera--screwed to its tripod--against the wall by the +door. "I'm Luck Lindsay, Mr. White," he announced in his easy, Texas +drawl. "I'm in a hurry, so I'll omit my full autobiography, if you don't +mind, and let you draw your own conclusions about my reputation and +character. I've a five-reel feature film called _The Phantom Herd_ just +completed, and I want to take it down to El Paso and show it before the +Texas Cattlemen's Convention which meets there to-day. I want their +endorsement of it as a Western film which really portrays the West, to +incorporate in my advertisements in all the trade journals. But the +production of the film took my last cent, and I've got to raise money on +my camera for the trip down there. You see what I mean. I'm broke, and +I've got to catch that four o'clock train or the whole thing stops right +here. This camera cost me close to fifteen hundred dollars. Here are the +receipted sales slips to prove it. In Los Angeles I could easily get--" +He caught the beginning of a denial in Mr. White's sidewise movement of +the head--"ten times as much money on it as you can give me. You probably +don't know anything at all about motion-picture cameras, but you can read +these slips and find out how prices run." + +Mr. White had in a measure recovered from the effects of Luck's smile. He +picked up the slips and glanced at them indifferently. "There's a +pawn-shop just down the street, I believe," he said. "Why--" + +"I want to leave this camera here with you, anyway," Luck interrupted. +"It's valuable--too valuable to take any risk of fire or burglary. I +want to leave it in your vault. You've handled a good deal of my money, +and you know who I am, and what my standing is, or else you aren't the +right man for the position you occupy. It's your business to know these +things. Now, I'm not asking you for any big loan. All I want is expense +money for that trip. If you'll advance me seventy-five or a hundred +dollars on my note, with this camera as security, I'll thank you and +romp down to El Paso and get that endorsement before the convention +adjourns till next year." + +Mr. White looked at the camera strangely, as though he half expected it +to explode. "I should have to take it up with the directors--" + +"Directors! Hell, man, that train's due in an hour! What _are_ you +around here--a man in authority, or just a dummy made up to look like +one? Do you mean to tell me you're afraid to stake me to enough money to +make El Paso and return? What, for the Lord's sake, do I look like, +anyway,--a crook?" + +Mr. White's head was more than six feet in the air when he stood up, and +Luck Lindsay in his high-heeled boots lacked a good six inches of that +altitude; but for all that, Luck Lindsay was a bigger man than Mr. +White. He dominated the cashier; he made the cashier conscious of his +dyspepsia and his thin hair and his flabby muscles and his lack of +enthusiasm with life. + +"The directors have to pass on all bank loans," he explained +apologetically, "but I can lend you the money out of my personal account. +If you will excuse me, I'll get the money before my assistant closes the +vault. And shall I put these inside for you?" He rose and started for the +inner door with a deprecating smile. + +"Aren't you going to take a note?" Luck studied the man with +sharpened glance. + +"My check will be a sufficient record of the transaction, I think." And +Mr. White, with two or three words scribbled at the bottom, proceeded to +make the check a record. "I am glad to be able to stake you, Mr. Lindsay, +and I hope your trip will be successful." + +He got another Luck Lindsay smile for that, and the apology he had coming +to him. And then in a very few minutes Luck hurried out and back to the +little house on the edge of town. + +"Where's my bag? So long, boys; I'm going to drift. I'll change clothes +on the train--haven't got time now. Here's five dollars, Andy, for the +stable bill and so on. Bill, you're the only one of the bunch that +shirked, so you can carry this box of reels to the depot for me. _Adios_, +boys, I'm sure going to romp all over that Convention, believe me, if +they don't swear _The Phantom Herd's_ a winner from the first scene!" + + + + +CHAPTER NINETEEN + +WHEREIN LUCK MAKES A SPEECH + + +Luck stood on the platform of the Texas Cattlemen's Convention and looked +down upon the work-lined, brown faces of the men whose lives had for the +most part been spent out of doors. Their sober attentiveness confused him +for a minute so that he forgot what he wanted to say--he, Luck Lindsay, +who had faced the great audiences of Madison Square Garden and had smiled +his endearing smile and made his bow with perfect poise and an eye for +pretty faces; who had without a quiver faced the camera, many's the time, +in difficult scenes; who had faced death more times than he could count, +and what was to him worse than death,--blank failure. But these old +range-men with the wind-and-sun wrinkles around their eyes, and their +ready-to-wear suits, and their judicial air of sober attention,--these +were to him the jury that would weigh his work and say whether it was +worthy. These men-- + +And then one of them suddenly cleared his throat with a rasping sound +like old Dave Wiswell, his dried little cowman of the picture, and +embarrassment dropped from Luck like a cloak flung aside. He was here to +put his work to the test; to let these men say whether _The Phantom Herd_ +was worthy to be called a great picture, one of which the West could be +proud. So he pushed back his mop of hair--grayer than the hair of many +here old enough to be his father--with the fiat of his palm, and looked +straight into the faces of these men and said what he had to say: + +"Mr. Chairman, and gentlemen of this Convention, I consider it a great +privilege to be able to stand here and speak to you--a greater privilege +than any of you realize, perhaps. For my heart has always been in the +range-land, my people have been the people of the plains. I have to-day +been honored by the hand-grip of old-timers who were riding circle, +trailing long-horns, and working cattle when I was a boy in short pants. + +"I have trailed herds on the pay roll of one man who remembers me here +to-day, and of others who have crossed the Big Divide. I have seen the +open range shrink before the coming of barbed wire and settlers. I have +watched the 'long shadow' fall across God's own cattle country. + +"Since I entered the motion-picture business, my one great aim and my one +great dream has been to produce one real Western picture. One picture +that I could present with pride to such a convention as this, and have +men who have spent their lives in the cattle industry give it the stamp +of their approval; one picture that would make such men forget the +present and relive the old days when they were punchers all and proud of +it. Such an opportunity came to me last fall and I made the most of it. I +got me a bunch of real boys, and went to work on the picture I have +called _The Phantom Herd._ From the trail-herds going north I have tried +to weave into my story a glimpse of the whole history of the range +critter, from the shivering, new-born calf that hit the range along with +a spring blizzard, to the big, four-year-old steer prodded up the chutes +into the shipping cars. + +"I want you, who know the false from the real, to see _The Phantom Herd_ +and say whether I have done my work well. I finished the picture +yesterday, and I have brought it down here for the purpose of asking you +to honor me by accepting an invitation to a private showing of the +picture this evening, here in this hall. I want you to come and bring +your wives and your children with you if you can. I want you to see _The +Phantom Herd_ before it goes to the public--and to-morrow I shall face +you again and accept your verdict. You know the West. You will know a +Western picture when you see it. I know you know, and I want you to tell +me what you think of it. Your word will be final, as far as I am +concerned. Gentlemen, I hope you will all be present here to-night at +eight o'clock as my guests. I thank you for your attention." + +Luck went away from there feeling, and telling himself emphatically, that +he had made a "rotten" talk. He had not said what he had meant to say, or +at least he had not said it the way he had meant to say it. But he was +too busy to dwell much upon his deficiencies as an orator; he had yet to +borrow a projection machine and operator from somewhere--for, as usual, +he had issued his invitation before he had definitely arranged for the +exhibition, and had trusted to luck and his own efforts to be able to +keep his promise. + +Luck (or his own efforts) landed him within easy conversational reach of +a man who was preparing to open a little theater on a side street. The +seats were not in yet, but he had his machine, and he meant to operate it +himself, while his wife sold tickets and his boy acted as usher,--a +family combination which to Luck seemed likely to be a success. This man, +when Luck made known his needs, said he was perfectly willing to "limber +up" his machine and himself on _The Phantom Herd_, if Luck would let his +wife and boy see the picture, and would pay the slight operating +expenses. So that was settled very easily. + +At five minutes to eight that evening all of the cattlemen and a few +favored, influential citizens of El Paso whom Luck had invited personally +sat waiting before the blank screen. Up in the operator's cramped +quarters Luck was having a nervous chill and trying his best not to show +it, and he was telling the operator to give it time enough, for the +Lord's sake, and to be sure he had everything ready before he started in, +and so forth, until the operator was almost as nervous as Luck himself. + +"Now, look here," he cried exasperatedly at last. "You know your +business, and I know mine. You're going to have me named in your +write-ups as the movie-man that run this show for the convention, ain't +you? And I'm going to open up a picture house next week in this town, +ain't I? And I ain't going to advertise myself as a bum operator, am I? +Now you _vamos_ outa here and get down there in the audience, if you +don't want me to get the fidgets and spoil something. Go on--beat it!" + +Luck must have been in a strange condition, for he beat it promptly and +without any retort, and slid furtively into a chair between two old +range-men just as the operator's boy-usher switched off the lights. +Luck's heart began to pound so that he half expected his neighbors to +tell him to close his muffler,--only they were of the saddle-horse +fraternity and would not have known what the phrase meant. + +_The Phantom Herd_ flashed suddenly upon the screen and joggled there +dizzily, away over to one side. Luck clapped his hand to his perspiring +forehead and murmured "Oh, my Gawd!" like a prayer, and shut his eyes to +hide from them the desecration. He opened them to find that the caste was +just flicking off and the first scene dissolving in. + +The man at his left gave a long sigh and crossed his knees, and leaned +back and began to chew tobacco rapidly between his worn old molars. + +_"Oh, a ten dollar hoss and a forty dollar saddle, +I'm goin' to punchin' Texas cattle."_ + +The sub-title dissolved slowly into a scene showing a cow-puncher (who +was Weary) swinging on to his rangy cow-Horse and galloping away after +the chuck-wagon just disappearing in the wake of the dust-flinging +_remuda_. Back somewhere in the dusk of the audience, a man began to hum +the tune that went with the words, and the heart of Luck Lindsay gave an +exultant bound. He had used lines from "The Old Chisholm Trail" and other +old-time range songs for his sub-titles, to keep the range atmosphere +complete, and that cracked voice humming unconsciously told how it +appealed to these men of the range. + +Luck did not slide down in his seat so that his head rested on the +chair-back while _The Phantom Herd_ was being shown. Instead, he sat +leaning forward, with his face white and strained, and watched for weak +points and for bad photography and scenes that could have been bettered. + +He saw the big trail-herd go winding away across the level, with Weary +riding "point" and Happy Jack bringing up the "drag," and the others +scattered along between; riding slouched in their saddles, hatbrims +pulled low over eyes smarting with the dust that showed in a thin film at +the head of the herd and grew thicker toward the drag, until riders and +animals were seen dimly through a haze. + +"My--I can just feel that dust in m' throat!" muttered the man at his +right, and coughed. + +Luck saw the storm come muttering up just as the cattle were bedding down +for the night. He saw the lightning, and he knew that those who watched +with him were straining forward. He heard some one say involuntarily: +"They'll break and run, sure as hell!" and he knew that he had done that +part of his work well. + +He saw the night scenes he had taken in town. He almost forgot that all +this was his work, so smoothly did the story steal across his senses and +beguile him into half believing it was true and not a fabric which he had +built with careful planning and much toil. He saw the round-up scenes; +the day-herd, the cutting-out and the branding, the beef-herd driven to +the shipping cars. True, those steers were not exactly prime beef,--he +had caught the culls only, late in the season for these scenes--but they +passed, with one audible comment that this was a poor season for beef! + +"We rounded 'em up and we put 'em in the cars--" + +The sub-title sang itself familiarly into the minds of the range men. +More than one voice was heard to begin a surreptitious humming of the +old tune, and to cease abruptly with the sudden self-consciousness of +the singer. + +But there was the story, growing insensibly out of the range work. Luck, +more at ease now in his mind, studied it critically. There was the +quarrel between old Dave and Andy, his son. He saw the old man out with +his men, standing his shift of night-guard, stubbornly resisting the +creeping years and his load of trouble; riding around the sleeping herd +with his head sunk on his chest, meeting the younger guard twice on each +complete circle, and yet never seeming to see him at all. + +"Sing low to your cattle, sing low to your steers--" + +The words and the scene opened wide the door of memory and let whole +troops of ghosts come drifting in out of the past. The hall, Luck roused +himself to notice, was very, very still; so still that the sizzling sound +of the machine at the rear was distinct and oppressive. + +There was the blizzard, terrible in its biting realism. There was the old +cow and calf, separated from the herd, fighting in the primal instinct to +preserve themselves alive,--fighting and losing. There was that other, +more terrible fight for existence, the fight of the Native Son against +the snow and the cold. Men drew their breath sharply when he fell and did +not rise again. They shivered when the snow began to drift against his +quiet body, to lodge and shift and settle, and grow higher and higher +until the bank was even with his shoulders, to drift over him and make of +him a white mound--And then, when Andy staggered up through the swirl, +leading his horse and shouting; when he stumbled against Miguel and tried +to raise him and rouse him, a sound like a groan went through the crowd. + +"Close a call as I ever had was in a blizzard like that," the old man at +Luck's left whispered agitatedly to Luck behind his palm, when the lights +snapped on while the operator was changing for the last reel. + +There was Andy, haunted and haggard, at home again with his father. There +were those dissolve scenes of the "phantom herd" drifting always across +the skyline whenever Andy looked out into the night or rose startled +from uneasy sleep. Weird, it was,--weird and real and very terrible. And, +at last, there was that wonderful camp-fire scene of the Indian girl who +prayed to her gods before she went to meet her lover who was dead and +could not keep the tryst. There were heart-breaking scenes where the +Indian girl wandered in wild places, looking, hoping, despairing--Luck +had planned every little detail of those scenes, and yet they thrilled +him as though he had come to them unawares. + +He did not wait after the last scene faded out slowly. He slipped quietly +into the aisle and went away, while the hands of the old-timers were +stinging with applause. Halfway down the block he heard it still, and his +steps quickened unconsciously. They were calling his name, back there in +the hall. They were all talking at once and clapping their hands and, as +an interlude, shouting the name of Luck Lindsay. But Luck did not heed. +He wanted to get away by himself. He did not feel as though he could say +anything at all to any one, just then. He had seen his Big Picture, and +he had seen that it was as big and as perfect, almost, as he had dreamed +it. To Luck, at that moment, words would have cheapened it,--even the +words of the old cattlemen. + +He went to his hotel and straight up to his room, regardless of the fact +that it would have been to his advantage to mingle with his guests and to +listen to their praise. He went to bed and lay there in the dark, +reliving the scenes of his story. Then, after awhile, he drifted off into +sleep, his first dreamless, untroubled slumber in many a night. + +By the time the Convention was assembled the next day, however, he had +recovered his old spirit of driving energy. The chairman had invited him +by telephone to attend the afternoon meeting, and Luck went--to be +greeted by a rousing applause when he walked down the aisle to the +platform where the chairman was waiting for him. + +Resolutions had already been passed, the Convention as a body thanking +Luck Lindsay for the privilege of seeing what was in their judgment the +greatest Western picture that had ever been produced. The chairman made a +little speech about the pleasure and the privilege, and presented Luck +with a letter of endorsement and signed with due formality by chairman +and secretary and sealed with the official seal. Attached to the letter +was a copy of the vote of thanks, and you may imagine how Luck smiled +when he saw that! + +He stayed a little while, and during the recess which presently was +called he shook hands with many an old-timer whose name stood for a good +deal in the great State of Texas. Then he left them, still smiling over +what he called his good luck, and wired a copy of the letter of +endorsement to all the trade journals, to be incorporated in his +full-page advertising. By another stroke of luck he caught most of the +trade journals before their forms closed for the next issue, so that _The +Phantom Herd_ was speedily heralded throughout the profession as the +first really authentic Western drama ever produced. By still another +stroke of what he called luck, an Associated Press man found him out, and +was pleased to ask him many questions and to make a few notes; and Luck, +wise to the value of publicity, answered the questions and saw to it that +the notes recorded interesting facts. + +That evening Luck, feeling that he had reached the last mile-post on the +road to success, hunted up a few old-timers who appealed to him most as +true types of the range, and gave them a dinner in a certain place which +he knew was run by an old round-up cook. There was nothing about that +dinner which would have appealed to a cabaret crowd. They talked of the +old days when Luck was a lad, those old-timers; they talked of +trail-herds and of droughts and of floods and blizzards and range wars +and the market prices of beef "on the hoof." They called in the old +round-up cook and cursed him companionably as one of themselves, and +remembered that more than one of them had run when he pounded the bottom +of a frying pan and hollered "Come and get it!" They ate and they smoked +and they talked and talked and talked, until Luck had to indulge himself +in a taxi if he would not miss the eleven o'clock train north. His only +regret, in spite of the fact that he was practically and familiarly broke +again, was that circumstances did not permit the Happy Family to sit with +him at that table. Especially did he regret not having old Applehead and +the dried little man with him that night to make his gathering complete. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY + +"SHE'S SHAPING UP LIKE A BANK ROLL" + + +"Well," said Luck to the Happy Family, "we've come this far along the +trail, and now I'm stuck again. Bank won't loan any more on the camera, +and I've got a dollar and six bits to market _The Phantom Herd_ with! +Everything's fine so far; she's advertised,--or will be when the +magazines come out,--and she's got some good press notices to back her +up; but she ain't outa the woods yet. I've got to raise some money +somehow. I hate to ask poor old Applehead--" + +"Pore old Applehead, my granny!" bawled Big Medicine, laughing his big +_haw-haw._ "Pore ole Applehead's sure steppin' high these days. He'd +mortgage his ranch and feel like a millionaire, by cripes! His ole +Come-Paddy cat jest natcherally walloped the tar outa Shunky Cheestely, +and Applehead seen him doin' it. Come-Paddy, he's hangin' out in the +house now, by cripes, 'cept when he takes a sashay down to the stable +lookin' fer more. And Shunky, he's bedded down under the Ketch-all, when +he ain't hittin' fer the tall timber with his tail clamped down between +his legs. Honest to grandma, Luck, you couldn't hit Applehead at a better +time. He'll borry money er do anything yuh care to ask, except shut up +that there cat uh hisn." + +"Well, luck may come my way; I'll just sit tight a few days and see," +said Luck. "When that positive film comes, I'll have to rustle money +somewhere to get it outa the express office, so we can make more +prints. And--" + +"And grind our daylights out again on that there drum that never does git +wound up?" groaned Big Medicine, and felt his biceps tenderly. + +"We won't rush the next job quite so hard," Luck soothed, perfectly +amiable and easy to live with, now that the worst was over. "We made a +darn good set of prints, just the same; boys, you oughta seen that +picture! I've a good mind to get some house here in town to run it; say, +I might raise some money that way, if I can't do it any other." And then +his enthusiasm cooled. "Town isn't big enough for a long-enough run," he +considered disgustedly. "I'm past the two-bit stage of the game now." + +"Well, you ask Applehead to raise the money," advised Weary. "Or one of +us will write to Chip for some. Mamma! The world's full of money! Seems +like it ought to be easy to get hold of some." + +"It is--but it ain't," Luck stated somewhat ambiguously, and turned the +talk to his meeting with the old-timers, and prepared to "sit tight" and +wait for his god Good Luck to smile upon him. + +The smile arrived at noon the next day, in the form of a wire from +Philadelphia. Luck read it and gave a whoop of joy quite at variance with +his usual surface calm. + +Can Offer You Fifteen Hundred Dollars for Pennsylvania Rights The +Phantom Herd Usual Ten Cents Per Foot Positive Prints if Accepted Wire at +Once and Ship to This Point + +RJ Crittenden + +"I hollered too soon," groaned Luck, when he had read it the second time, +pushing back his hair distractedly. "How the devil am I going to send him +any positive prints at ten cents a foot or ten cents an inch or any other +price? Till I get that shipment of positive, I can't fill any orders at +all! And until I begin to fill orders, I can't realize on the film. Can +you beat that? I'll have to wire him to wait, and that's two thousand +dollars tied up!" + +"Aw, gwan!" Happy Jack croaked argumentatively. "Why don't you send him +what you took to the Convention?" + +Luck stared at Happy stupefied before he said a word. "Say, Miguel, you +saddle your ridge-runner while I get ready to take this wire hack to +town and send it off," he snapped, preparing to write. "Sure, I'll send +that set of prints! Happy, you can go to the head of the class. Now +it's only a case of sit tight till the money comes. The prints are +packed and in the bank vault, so I'll just get them out and send them +C.O.D. to Mr. Crittenden, along with the states rights contract. How's +that for luck, boys?" + +"Pretty good--for Luck," grinned Andy meaningly. "Fly at it, you coming +millionaire!" + +"Just a case of sit tight, boys. _Adios!"_ cried Luck jubilantly as he +hurried away. + +Once start along a smooth trail, and everything seems to conspire toward +a pleasant trip. To prove it, Luck found another telegram waiting for him +in Albuquerque. This was from Martinson, and might be interpreted as an +apology more or less abject. Certainly it was an urgent request that he +return immediately to Los Angeles and to his old place at the Acme, and +produce Western pictures under no supervision whatever. + +Luck gave a little chuckle when he pocketed that message, but he did not +send any answer. He meant to wait and talk it over with the boys first. +"Better proposition than before," Martinson said. Well, perhaps it would +be best to look into it; Luck was too experienced to believe that one +success means permanent success; there are too many risks for the free +lance to run when a single failure means financial annihilation. If the +Acme would come to his terms, it might be to his advantage to take his +boys back and accept this peace-offering. At any rate, he appreciated to +the full the triumph they had scored. + +Next, by some twist of the red tape in the Philadelphia express +office,--or perhaps R.J. Crittenden was a good fellow and asked them to +do it,--the two thousand dollars came by wire, just three days after Luck +had received notice that his shipment of positive film was being held for +him at the express office in Albuquerque. Also came other offers, mostly +by wire, for states rights to _The Phantom Herd._ And when the Happy +Family realized what those offers meant, they didn't care how hard or how +long Luck worked them in the little house which he had turned into a +laboratory. + +Being human, intensely so in some ways, the first set of prints they +turned out Luck sent to Los Angeles with a mental godspeed and a hope +that Bently Brown and Martinson would see it and "get wise to what a +_real_ Western picture looked like." There were other orders ahead of Los +Angeles in Luck's book, but they waited a little longer so that he might +the sooner taste a little of the sweets of revenge. + +Whether Bently Brown and Martinson saw _The Phantom Herd,_ Luck was a +long, long time finding out. But he learned that some one else did see +it, and that right speedily. For among his many telegrams that came +clicking into Albuquerque was this one which makes a fitting end to +this story: + +Luck Lindsay +Albuquerque +New Mexico + +Congratulations on _The Phantom Herd_ Wonderful Production New +Proposition You to Produce Western Features with Your Present Company on +Straight Salary and Bonus Basis Miss Jean Douglas to Play Your Leads if I +Can Sign Her up Can You Come Here at Once to Close Deal Answer + +Dewitt + +"All right, boys, you can run and play." Luck handed them the telegram, +looked at his watch, and began to roll down his sleeves. "I'll catch the +next train for 'Los' and see Dewitt,--don't take any studying to know +that's the thing to do,--and if you'll pack all this negative, Bill, I'll +take that along and hire the rest of the prints made. Andy, you're riding +herd on this bunch while I'm gone. Just hold yourselves ready for orders, +because I don't know how things will shape up. But believe me, boys, +she's shaping up like a bank-roll!" + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PHANTOM HERD*** + + +******* This file should be named 12663.txt or 12663.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/6/6/12663 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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