s," Estelle told the director.

The signal was given through the field telephone and then, with his
ever-present megaphone, the director began to issue his orders.

The rifles cracked, the big guns rumbled and roared, smoke blew across
the battlefield and horses snorted and pawed at the ground impatient to
be off and in the charge. To them it was real, even though their masters
knew it was only for the movies.

Bugles tooted their inspiring calls, and the officers, who knew the
significance of the cadence of notes, issued their orders accordingly.

"Deploy to the left!" came the command to a squad of Union cavalry, and
the men trotted off, to try a flank movement. Then came the firing of a
Confederate battery in a desperate attempt to scatter the Union forces.

All the camera men in the employ of the Comet Film Company were engaged
this day, and Russ was at his wits' end to keep each machine loaded with
film, and to see that his own was working properly.

Pop Snooks had never before been called on to provide so many "props" as
he was for this occasion, but he thoroughly enjoyed the work, and when,
at the last minute, he had to make a rustic bridge whereon two lovers
had a farewell before the soldier rode off to battle, the veteran
property man improvised one out of bean poles and fence rails that made
a most artistic picture.

"They'll have to get up the day before breakfast to beat Pop Snooks!"
exclaimed Russ, admiringly.

All was now ready for the big cavalry charge.

"All ready!" came the order from Mr. Pertell. "Cameras!"

And the cranks began to work, reeling off the sensitive film.

The two bodies of cavalry rushed toward one another, hoofs thundering,
carbines cracking, sabres flashing in the sun, white puffs of smoke
showing where the cannon were firing.

"Now Miss Brown!" yelled the director, above the riot of noise. "This is
where you make the ride of your life!"

"All right!" answered the brave girl, and, giving rein to her horse, she
dashed off ahead of a detachment of cavalry that was to try to intercept
her.

On and on rode Estelle. Ruth and Alice, who had finished their part in
this scene, stood on a little hill, watching her.

On and on dashed Estelle, doing her part well, and foot after foot of
the film registered her action. She was almost at the end now. She
reached the Confederate ranks, gave over the message she had carried
through such danger, and then, turning her horse, dashed aw