ed to Jean, and she also looked dissatisfied over something.

Burns and the camera man walked down toward the stables, studying the
bluff and the immediate surroundings, and still talking together. Lee
Milligan, with his paint-shaded eyes and his rouged lips and heavily
pencilled eyebrows, came up and stood close to Muriel, who was sitting
now upon the bench near Jean's window.

"Burns ought to cut out those scenes, Gay," he began sympathetically.
"You can't do any more than you did yesterday. And believe me, you put
it over in good style. I don't see what he wants more than you did."

"What he wants," said Muriel Gay dispiritedly, "is for me to pull off
stunts like that girl. I never saddled a horse in my life till he
ordered me to do it in the scene yesterday. Why didn't he tell me far
enough ahead so I could rehearse the business? Latigo! It sounds like
some Spanish dish with grated cheese on top. I don't believe he knows
himself what he meant."

"He's getting nutty on Western dope," sympathized Lee Milligan. "I
don't see where this country's got anything on Griffith Park for
atmosphere, anyway. What did he want to come away up here in this
God-forsaken country for? What is there TO it, more than he could get
within an hour's ride of Los Angeles?"

"I should worry about the country," said Muriel despondently, "if
somebody would kindly tell me what looping up your latigo means. Burns
says that he's got to retake that saddling scene just as soon as the
horses get here. It looks just as simple," she added spitefully, "as
climbing to the top of the Berry Building tower and doing a leap to a
passing airship. In fact, I'd choose the leap."

A warm impulse of helpfulness stirred Jean. She caught up her hat,
buckled her gun belt around her from pure habit, tucked a few loose
strands of hair into place, and went out where they were.

"If you'll come down to the stable with me," she drawled, while they
were staring their astonishment at her unexpected appearance before
them, "I'll show you how to saddle up. Pard's awfully patient about
being fussed with; you can practice on him. He's mean about taking the
bit, though, unless you know just how to take hold of him. Come on."

The three of them,--Muriel Gay and her mother and Lee Milligan,--stared
at Jean without speaking. To her it seemed perfectly natural that she
should walk up and offer to help the girl; to them it seemed not so
natural. For a minute