obert G. Burns, her uncle, Carl Douglas,
thereby gave the said Robert G. Burns permission to use the Lazy A
ranch and anything upon it or in any manner pertaining to it, for the
purpose of making motion pictures. It was plainly set forth that
Robert G. Burns should be held responsible for any destruction of or
damage to the property, and that he might, for the sum named, use any
cattle bearing the Lazy A or Bar O brands for the making of pictures,
so long as he did them no injury and returned them in good condition to
the range from which he had gathered them.

Jean recognized her uncle's ostentatious attempt at legal phraseology
and knew, even without the evidence of his angular writing, that the
document was genuine. She knew also that Robert Grant Burns was
justified in ordering her off that bench; she had no right there, where
he was making his pictures. She forced back the bitterness that filled
her because of her own helplessness, and folded the paper carefully.
The little brown bird chirped shrilly and fluttered a feeble protest
when she took away her sheltering hand. Jean returned the paper
hastily to its owner and took up the bird.

"I beg your pardon for delaying your work," she said coldly, and rose
from the bench. "But you might have explained your presence in the
first place." She wrapped the bird carefully in her handkerchief so
that only its beak and its bright eyes were uncovered, pulled her hat
forward upon her head, and walked away from them down the path to the
stables.

Robert Grant Burns turned slowly on his heels and watched her go, and
until she had led out her horse, mounted and ridden away, he said never
a word. Pete Lowry leaned an elbow upon the camera and watched her
also, until she passed out of sight around the corner of the
dilapidated calf shed, and he was as silent as the director.

"Some rider," Lee Milligan commented to the assistant camera man, and
without any tangible reason regretted that he had spoken.

Robert Grant Burns turned harshly to the two women. "Now then, you two
go through that scene again. And when you put out your hand to stop
Muriel, don't grab at her, Mrs. Gay. Hesitate! You want your son to
get the warning, but you've got your doubts about letting her take the
risk of going. And, Gay, when you read the letter, try and show a
little emotion in your face. You saw how that girl looked--see if you
can't get that hurt, bitter look GRADUALLY, as you read.