miled then.
"We wouldn't do that, but there isn't a pinto in the country right now
that would be what we want. You had better get your bunch together,
because I'll be back in a little while with Lite."

As it happened, Lite was on his way to the Lazy A, and met Jean in the
bottom of the sandy hollow. His eyes lightened when he saw her come
loping up to him. But when she was close enough to read the expression
of his face, it was schooled again to the frank friendship which Jean
always had accepted as a matter of course.

"Hello, Lite! I've got a job for you with the movies," Jean announced,
as soon as she was within speaking distance. "You can come right back
with me and begin. It's going to be great. We're going to make a real
Western picture, Lite, you and I. Lee and Gil and all the rest will be
in it, of course; but we're going to put in the real West. And we're
going to put in the ranch,--the REAL Lazy A, Lite. Not these dinky
little sets that Burns has toggled up with bits of the bluff showing
for background, but the ranch just as it--it used to be." Jean's eyes
grew wistful while she looked at him and told him her plans.

"I'm writing the scenario myself," she explained, "and that's why you
have to be in it. I've written in stuff that the other boys can't do
to save their lives. REAL stuff, Lite! You and I are going to run the
ranch and punch the cows,--Lazy A cattle, what there are left of
them,--and hunt down a bunch of rustlers that have their hangout
somewhere down in the breaks; we don't know just where, yet. The
places we'll ride, they'll need an airship to follow with the camera!
I haven't got it all planned yet, but the first reel is about done;
we're going to begin on it this afternoon. We'll need you in the first
scenes,--just ranch scenes, with you and Lee; he's my brother, and
he'll get killed-- Now, what's the matter with you?" She stopped and
eyed him disapprovingly. "Why have you got that stubborn look to your
mouth? Lite, see here. Before you say a word, I want to tell you that
you are not to refuse this. It--it means money, Lite; for you, and for
me, too. And that means--dad at home again. Lite--"

Bite looked at her, looked away and bit his lips. It was long since he
had seen tears in Jean's steady, brown eyes, and the sight of them hurt
him intolerably. There was nothing that he could say to strengthen her
faith, absolutely nothing. He did not see how money could free h