ff. I guess he weakened at the last moment."

"I had no idea he was a moving picture operator," said the ranch owner,
"or I would never have hired him."

"Well, I guess no harm was done," Mr. Pertell rejoined.

The rush of the steers was gradually coming to a close when Mr. Norton,
looking over to the far edge of the bunch of cattle, uttered a sudden
cry of alarm.

"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Pertell, anxiously.

"Why, they seem to have started up all over again," was the reply. "You
didn't tell them to put in a second scene of the stampede; did you?"

"No, indeed. We don't need it. Besides, Russ can't have any film left
for this reel. He used up the thousand-foot, I'm sure, and he hasn't an
extra one with him. What does it mean?"

"That's what I'd like to know. Those steers are certainly on the rush
again, though. Hi, Baldy!" he called to the cowboy. "What are you
starting 'em up again for?"

"Startin' who up?"

"The steers! Look at 'em!"

"Say, they _are_ on the run again," agreed the bald-headed cowboy, who
had ridden up to where Mr. Pertell and Mr. Norton stood. "Something must
be wrong," and he set off on the gallop once more.

Meanwhile the steers, which had almost come to a rest, were again in
motion. But they were not safely going about in a circle. Instead, they
had started off in a long line and now were swinging around in a big
circle and heading directly for the mound on which the young ladies were
still standing.

Ruth and Alice had started down as they saw the cattle growing quiet,
but now several of the cowboys shouted to them:

"Go back! Go back! This is a stampede in earnest."

"A stampede in earnest!" repeated Mr. Norton. "I wonder what started
that?"

With a sudden rush the whole bunch of cattle were in motion, and headed
in a solid mass for the mound.

"If they rush over that----" said Mr. Pertell in fear.

"This is too much realism!" cried Mr. Norton, putting spurs to his steed
and racing off to help the cowboys. The latter had seen the danger of
the girls, and were hastening to once more stop the stampede that had
unexpectedly become a real one.

"Look at those fellows over there!" shouted Pete Batso as he rode up,
his horse in a lather. "They're none of our crowd!" and he pointed to a
group of horsemen who were riding away from the stampeded cattle instead
of toward them.

"Who are they?" asked Mr. Pertell.

"I don't know, but they're a lot of cowards to run away, when