you know about this?" he demanded in plain amazement. "This story
the old man gave me to read is a wonder! It is one of the best ideas I
ever saw for the screen. Of course, it needs fixing up a bit, but it's
great! What did you think of it, Miss Ruth?"

"I am glad you like it, Mr. Hammond," she said, steadying her voice with
difficulty.

"I do like it, I assure you."

"It is _my_ story, Mr. Hammond!" she exclaimed. "It is the very scenario
that was stolen from me at home. He's just changed the names of the
characters and given it a different title, and spoiled some of the scenes.
But a large part of it is copied word for word from my manuscript!"

"Miss Fielding!" gasped the president of the Alectrion Film Corporation.

"I am telling you the truth," Ruth cried, rather wildly, it must be
confessed, and then she broke down and wept.

"My goodness! It can't be possible! You--you've let your mind dwell upon
your loss so much----"

"Do you think I am crazy?" she demanded, flaring up at him, her anger
drying her tears.

"Certainly not," he returned gently; yet he looked at her oddly. "But
mistakes have been made----"

"Mistakes, indeed! It is no mistake when I recognize my own work."

"But--but how could this old man have stolen your work--and away back
there at the Red Mill? I believe he has lived here on the Point for
years. At least, every summer."

"Then somebody else stole it and he got the script from them. I tell you
it is mine!" cried Ruth.

"Miss Fielding! Let us be calm----"

"You would not be calm if you discovered somebody trying to make use of
something you had originated, and calling it theirs--no you wouldn't, Mr.
Hammond!"

"But it seems impossible," he said weakly.

"That old man is an actor--an old-school actor. You can see that easily
enough," she declared. "There was such a person about the Red Mill the day
my script was lost. Oh, it's plain enough."

"Not so plain, Miss Ruth," said Mr. Hammond firmly. "And you must not make
wild accusations. That will do no good--and may do harm in the end. It
does not seem probable to me that this old hermit could have actually
stolen your story. A longshore character like him----"

"He's not!" cried Ruth. "Don't you see that he is playing a part? He is no
fisherman. No longshore character, as you call him, would be as afraid of
the sea as he is. He is playing a part--and he plays it just as well as
the parts Mr. Hooley gives him to play."

"Jove!