will, too, when he sees all this.
I really ought to have stayed with him."

"You don't think Lite quite capable of taking care of him."

"Oh, yes, of course he is! But I just feel that way."

Dewitt shifted a little, so that he was half facing her, and could look
at her without having to turn his head. If his eyes told anything of
his thoughts, the President of the Great Western Film Company was
curious to know how she felt about her position and her sudden fame and
the work itself. Before they had worked their way into the next block,
he decided that Jean was not greatly interested in any of these things,
and he wondered why.

The machine slowed, swung to the curb, and crept forward and stopped in
front of the Victoria. Dewitt looked at Burns and Pete Lowry, who was
on the front seat.

"I thought you'd like to take a glance at the lobby display the
Victoria is making," he said casually. "They are running the Lazy A
series, you know,--to capacity houses, too, they tell me. Shall we get
out?"

The chauffeur reached back with that gesture of toleration and infinite
boredom common to his kind and swung open the door.

Robert Grant Burns started up. "Come on, Jean," he said eagerly. "I
don't suppose that eternal calm of yours will ever show a wrinkle on
the surface, but let's have a look, anyway."

Pete Lowry was already out and half way across the pavement. Pete had
lain awake in his bed, many's the night, planning the posing of
"stills" that would show Jean at her best; he had visioned them on
display in theater lobbies, and now he collided with a hurrying shopper
in his haste to see the actual fulfillment of those plans.

Jean herself was not so eager. She went with the others, and she saw
herself pictured on Pard; on her two feet; and sitting upon a rock with
her old Stetson tilted over one eye and her hair tousled with the wind.
She was loading her six-shooter, and talking to Lite, who was sitting
on his heels with a cigarette in his fingers, looking at her with that
bottled-up look in his eyes. She did not remember when the picture was
taken, but she liked that best of all. She saw herself leaning out of
the window of her room at the Lazy A. She remembered that time. She
was talking to Gil outside, and Pete had come up and planted his tripod
directly in front of her, and had commanded her to hold her pose. She
did not count them, but she had curious impressions of dozens of
pictures of herself s