sition
which Miss Gay would leave vacant. It was politely suggested that he
adapt the leading woman's parts to the ability of this young woman;
which meant that he must write his scenarios especially with her in
mind. He was informed that he should feature the young woman in her
remarkable horsemanship, etc. It was pointed out that her work was
being noticed in the Western features which Robert Grant Burns had been
sending in, and that other film companies would no doubt make overtures
shortly, in the hope of securing her services. Under separate cover
they were mailing a contract which would effectually forestall such
overtures, and they were relying upon him to see that she signed up
with the Great Western as per contract. Finally, it was suggested,
since Mr. Dewitt chose always to suggest rather than to command, that
Robert Grant Burns consider the matter of writing a series of short
stories having some connecting thread of plot and featuring this Miss
Douglas. (This, by the way, was the beginning of the serial form of
motion-picture plays which has since become so popular.)

Robert Grant Burns read that letter through slowly, and then sat down
heavily in an old arm-chair in the hotel office, lighted one of his
favorite fat, black cigars, and mouthed it absently, while he read the
letter through again. He said "John Jimpson!" just above a whisper. He
held the letter in his two hands and regarded it strangely. Then he
looked up, caught the quizzical, inquiring glance of Pete Lowry, and
beckoned that secret-smiling individual over to him. "Read that!" he
grunted. "Read it and tell me what you think of it."

Pete Lowry read it carefully, and grinned when he handed it back. He
did not, however, tell Robert Grant Burns just exactly what he thought
of it. He merely said that it had to come sometime, he guessed.

"She can't put over the dramatic stuff," objected Robert Grant Burns.
"She's got the face for it, all right, and when she registers real
emotions, it gets over big. The bottled-up kind of people always do.
But she's never acted an emotion she didn't feel--"

"How about that all-in stuff, and the listening-and--waiting business
she put across before she took a shot at Gil that time she fainted?"
Pete reminded him. "If you ask me, that little girl can act."

"Well, whether she can or not, she's got to try it," said Burns with
some foreboding. "She's been going big, with Gay to do all the
close-up,