Jabez would not object to your
filming the old place. I could fix it for you. He is not so difficult when
once you know how to take him."

"I may ask your good offices in that matter," said Mr. Hammond. "But not
now. Of course, Grimes could work up something in short order to fit these
scenes here. He's excellent at that. But I think the subject is worthy of
better treatment. I'd like a really big story, treated artistically, and
one that would fit perfectly into the background of the Red Mill--nothing
slapdash and carelessly written, or invented on the spur of the moment by
a busy director----"

"Oh, Mr. Hammond!" cried Ruth, so excited now that she could no longer
keep silent. "I'd dearly love to write a moving picture scenario about the
old mill. And I've thought about it so much that I believe I could do
it."

"Indeed?" said Mr. Hammond, with one of his queer smiles. "Did you ever
write a scenario?"

"No, sir! but then, you know," said Ruth, naively, "one must always do a
thing for the first time."

"Quite true--quite true. So Eve said when she bit into the apple," and Mr.
Hammond chuckled.

"I would just _love_ to try it," the girl continued, taking her courage in
both hands. "I have a splendid plot--or, so I believe; and it is all about
the Red Mill. The pictures would _have_ to be taken here."

"Not in the winter, I fancy?" said Mr. Hammond.

"No, sir. When it is all green and leafy and beautiful," said Ruth,
eagerly.

"Then," said Mr. Hammond, more seriously, "I'd try my 'prentice hand, if I
were you, on something else. Don't write the Red Mill scenario now. Write
some thrilling but simple story, and let me read it first----"

"Oh, Mr. Hammond!" gasped Ruth, with clasped hands. "Will you really
_read_ it?"

"Of course I will," laughed the gentleman. "No matter how bad it is.
That's a promise. Here is my card with my private address upon it. You
send it directly to me, and the first time I am at home I will get it and
give it my best attention. That's a promise," he repeated.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" murmured Ruth delightedly, smiling and dimpling.

He pinched her cheek and his eyes grew serious for a moment. "I once knew
a girl much like you, Miss Ruth," he said. "Just as full of life and
enthusiasm. You are a tonic for old fogies like me."

"Old fogy!" repeated Ruth. "Why, I'm sure you are not old, Mr. Hammond."

"Never mind flattering me," he broke in, with assumed sternness. "Haven't
I alread