ake a success."

"But they didn't last long," countered Janet.

"Perhaps you're right on that," agreed Curt. "Are you going to school?"

"I expect we'll decide that when we get back to Hollywood and have a
long talk with mother and dad," replied Helen.

Just then Billy Fenstow hurried up, puffing and exceedingly warm.

"Everybody accounted for?" he asked his harried assistant.

"All here," replied the red-faced "Skeets."

"Sit down in the back seat with me," the director told the girls. "I
want to talk with you on the way back to the city."

The last members of the company were herded aboard the bus and the
girls, Curt Newsom and the director were the last to get aboard.

They sat down on the broad back seat which had been reserved for the
director. The bus lurched into motion and rolled away from the
ranchhouse.

Billy Fenstow mopped his perspiring brow and leaned back to enjoy the
ride.

The dusty road wound through the hills, golden clouds of dust marking
the passing of the bus.

They were halfway to the main highway when the motor started to cough
and the big vehicle slowed to a stop.

The driver buried himself under the hood and tinkered with the engine
for a few minutes. Then he climbed back into his seat and started the
motor again.

They progressed for several hundred yards and finally groaned to a stop.

"Looks like we may be late in getting to dinner," said Curt. "Sounded
like serious trouble under the hood that time."

The lanky cowboy uncoiled his legs and went out to see if he could be of
any assistance to the bus driver.

Billy Fenstow, taking advantage of the stop, spoke to Janet and Helen,
his voice so low that it was doubtful if he could be overheard by any
other member of the company.

"What about staying in the company for my next picture?" he asked.

"When will it start?" Janet countered.

The director mopped his brow again and grinned.

"Just as soon as I can hash together a good enough story. Two weeks,
maybe three, or it might even be a month. Why?"

"We're not certain what we want to do," explained Helen. "You see,
college starts next month."

"My heavens," exclaimed the director. "What under the sun do you want to
go to college for? You're smart enough right now."

"That's just it; we aren't," replied Janet. "And we're terribly young,
if the truth were known."

Billy Fenstow looked at them critically.

"Yep, you're young enough," he conceded, "but what's that got