We'll have to cut off his head so the halter won't show. Now, how's
that?"

This was growing interesting. Jean backed to a convenient pile of old
corral posts and sat down to watch, with her chin in her palms, and her
mind weaving shuttle-wise back and forth from one person to another,
fitting them all into the pattern which made the whole. She watched
Robert Grant Burns walking back and forth, growling and chuckling by
turns as things pleased him or did not please him. She watched Muriel
Gay walk to a certain spot which Burns had previously indicated, show
sudden and uncalled-for fear and haste, and go through a pantomime of
throwing the saddle on the sorrel.

She watched Lee Milligan carry the saddle up and throw it down upon the
ground, with skirts curled under and stirrups sprawling.

"Oh, don't leave it that way," she remonstrated. "Lay it on its side!
You'll have the skirts kinked so it never will set right."

Muriel Gay gasped and looked from her to Robert Grant Burns. For
betraying your country and your flag is no crime at all compared with
telling your director what he must do.

"Bring that saddle over here," commanded Burns, indicating another spot
eighteen inches from the first. "And don't slop it down like it was a
bundle of old clothes. Lay it on its side. How many times have I got
to tell you a thing before it soaks into your mind?" Not by tone or
look or manner did he betray any knowledge that Jean had spoken, and
Muriel decided that he could not have heard.

Lee Milligan moved the saddle and placed it upon its side, and Burns
went to the camera and eyed the scene critically for its photographic
value. He fumbled the script in his hands, cocked an eye upward at the
sun, stepped back, and gave a last glance to make sure that nothing
could be bettered by altering the detail.

"How's Gil; outside the line, Pete? All right. Now, Miss Gay,
remember, you're in a hurry, and you're worried half to death. You've
just time enough to get there if you use every second. You were crying
when the letter-scene closed, and this is about five minutes
afterwards; you just had time enough to catch your horse and lead him
out here to saddle him. Register a sob when you turn to pick up the
saddle. You ought to do this all right without rehearsing. Get into
the scene and start your action at the same time. Pete, you pick it up
just as she gets to the horse's shoulder and starts to turn. Don't
forget that