your machine, easy. You go out and see Carl Douglas, anyway; won't do
no harm. You offer him a little something for the use of the Lazy A;
he'll take anything that looks like money. Take it from me, that's the
place you want to take your pictures in. And, say! You want a written
agreement with Carl. Have the use of his stock included, or he'll tax
you extra. Have everything included," advised the old cowman, with a
sweep of his palm and his voice lowered discreetly. "Won't need to
cost you much,--not if you don't give him any encouragement to expect
much. Carl's that kind,--good fellow enough,--but he
wants--the--big--end. I know him, you bet! And, say! Don't let on to
Carl that I steered you out there. Just claim like you was scouting
around, and seen the Lazy A ranch, and took a notion to it; not too
much of a notion, though, or it's liable to come kinda high.

"And, say!" Real enthusiasm for the idea began to lighten his eyes.
"If you want good range dope, right out there's where you can sure find
it. You play up to them Bar Nothing boys--Lite Avery and Joe Morris
and Red. You ought to get some great pictures out there, man. Them
boys can sure ride and rope and handle stock, if that's what you want;
and I reckon it is, or you wouldn't be out here with your bunch of
actors looking for the real stuff."

They talked a long while after that. Gradually it dawned upon Burns
that he had heard of the Lazy A ranch before, though not by that
euphonious title. It seemed worth investigating, for he was going to
need a good location for some exterior ranch scenes very soon, and the
place he had half decided upon did not altogether please him. He
inquired about roads and distances, and waddled off to the hotel parlor
to ask Muriel Gay, his blond leading woman, if she would like to go out
among the natives next morning. Also he wanted her to tell him more
about that picturesque place she and Lee Milligan had stumbled upon the
day before,--the place which he suspected was none other than the Lazy
A.

That is how it came to pass that Jean, riding out with big Lite Avery
the next morning on a little private scouting-trip of their own, to see
if that fat moving-picture man was making free with the stock again,
met the man unexpectedly half a mile from the Bar Nothing ranch-house.

Along every trail which owns certain obstacles to swift, easy passing,
there are places commonly spoken of as "that" place. In his