for the policeman the old mother
crept forward. She explained to Merton that the money was in the ice-box
where the real thief had placed it, and since he had taken the crime of
another upon his shoulders he should also take the evidence, lest the
unfortunate young man be later convicted by that; she also urged him
to fly by the rear door while there was yet time. He did these things,
pausing for a last embrace of the weeping old lady, even as the hand of
the arriving policeman was upon the door.

"All for to-day, except some close-ups," announced Baird when this scene
had been shot. There was a breaking up of the group, a relaxation of
that dramatic tension which the heart-values of the piece had imposed.
Only once, while Merton was doing some of his best acting, had there
been a kind of wheezy tittering from certain members of the cast and the
group about the cameras.

Baird had quickly suppressed this. "If there's any kidding in this piece
it's all in my part," he announced in cold, clear tones, and there had
been no further signs of levity. Merton was pleased by this manner of
Baird's. It showed that he was finely in earnest in the effort for the
worth-while things. And Baird now congratulated him, seconded by the
Montague girl. He had, they told him, been all that could be expected.

"I wasn't sure of myself," he told them, "in one scene, and I wanted
to ask you about it, Mr. Baird. It's where I take that money from the
ice-box and go out with it. I couldn't make myself feel right. Wouldn't
it look to other people as if I was actually stealing it myself? Why
couldn't I put it back in the safe?"

Baird listened respectfully, considering. "I think not," he announced
at length. "You'd hardly have time for that, and you have a better plan.
It'll be brought out in the subtitles, of course. You are going to leave
it at the residence of Mr. Hoffmeyer, where it will be safe. You see, if
you put it back where it was, his son might steal it again. We thought
that out very carefully."

"I see," said Merton. "I wish I had been told that. I feel that I could
have done that bit a lot better. I felt kind of guilty."

"You did it perfectly," Baird assured him.

"Kid, you're a wonder," declared the Montague girl. "I'm that tickled
with you I could give you a good hug," and with that curious approach
to hysteria she had shown while looking at his stills, she for a moment
frantically clasped him to her. He was somewhat embarr