to turn
over to us your scenarios for a term of years, we, meanwhile, agreeing to
push your work and make you known to the public."

"Oh, dear me!" gasped Ruth. "I'm not sure I want to be so publicly known."

"Nonsense!" cried the man, in amazement. "Why! in publicity is the breath
of life. Without it, we faint--we die--we, worse--we _vegetate_!"

"I--I guess I don't mind vegetating--a--a little," stammered Ruth, weakly.

At that moment Mary Pease came racing down the walk. She waved a letter in
her hand and was calling Ruth's name.

"Oh, Ruthie Fielding!" she called, when she saw Ruth with the man. "Here's
a letter Mrs. Tellingham forgot to give you. She says it came enclosed in
one from Mr. Hammond to her."

The excited girl stopped by Ruth, handed her the letter, and stared
frankly at Mr. Amasa Farrington. That person's face began to redden as
Ruth idly opened the unsealed missive.

Again a green slip fell out. Mary darted toward it and picked it up. She
read the check loudly--excitedly--almost in a shriek!

"Goodness, gracious me, Ruthie Fielding! Is Mr. Hammond giving you this
money--_all_ this money--for your very own?"

But Ruth did not reply. She was scanning the letter from the president of
the Alectrion Film Corporation. Mr. Farrington was plainly nervous.

"Come, Miss Fielding, I am waiting for your answer," he said stiffly. "If
you join the Criterion Films, your success is assured. You are famous from
the start----"

Ruth was just reading a clause in Mr. Hammond's kind and friendly letter:

"Don't let your head be turned by success, little girl. And I
don't think it will be. You have succeeded in inventing two very
original scenarios. We will hope you can do better work in time.
But don't force yourself. Above all have nothing to do with
agents of film people who may want you to write something that
they may rush into the market for the benefit of the advertising
your school play will give you."

"No, Mr. Farrington," said Ruth, kindly. "I do not want to join your
forces. I am not even sure that I shall ever be able to write another
scenario. Circumstances seemed really to force me to write 'The Heart of a
Schoolgirl.' I am glad you think well of it. Good afternoon."

"Can you beat her?" demanded Jennie, a minute later, when the long-legged
Mr. Farrington had strutted angrily away. "Ruthie is as calm as a summer
lake. She can turn an offer of fame and fortune down