While she breakfasted unsatisfactorily upon soda crackers and a bottle of olives which happened to have been left over from a previous luncheon,Jean meditated deeply upon the proper beginning of a book.The memory of last night came to her vividly,and she smiled while she fished with a pair of scissors for an olive.She would start the book off weirdly with mysterious sounds in an empty room.That,she argued,should fix firmly the interest of the reader right at the start.
By the time she had fished the olive from the bottle,however,her thoughts swung from the artistic to the material aspect of those mysterious footsteps.What had the man wanted or expected to find?She set down the olive bottle impulsively and went out and around to the kitchen door and opened it.In spite of herself,she shuddered as she went in,and she walked close to the wall until she was well past the brown stain on the floor.She went to the old-fashioned cupboard and examined the contents of the drawers and looked into a cigar-box which stood open upon the top.She went into her father's bedroom and looked through everything,which did not take long,since the room had little left in it.She went into the living-room,also depressingly dusty and forlorn,but try as she would to think of some article that might have been left there and was now wanted by some one,she could imagine no reason whatever for that nocturnal visit.At the same time,there must have been a reason.Men of that country did not ride abroad during the still hours of the night just for the love of riding.Most of them went to bed at dark and slept until dawn.
She went out,intending to go back to her literary endeavors;if she never started that book,certainly it would never make her rich,and she would never be able to make war upon circumstances.She thought of her father with a twinge of remorse because she had wasted so much time this morning,and she scarcely glanced toward the picture-people down by the corrals,so she did not see that Robert Grant Burns turned to look at her and then started hurriedly up the path to the house.
"Say,"he called,just before she disappeared around the corner."Wait a minute.I want to talk to you."Jean waited,and the fat man came up breathing hard because of his haste in the growing heat of the forenoon.
"Say,I'd like to use you in a few scenes,"he began abruptly when he reached her."Gay can't put over the stuff I want;and I'd like to have you double for her in some riding and roping scenes.You're about the same size and build,and I'll get you a blond wig for close-ups,like that saddling scene.I believe you've got it in you to make good on the screen;anyway,the practice you'll get doubling for Gay won't do you any harm."Jean looked at him,tempted to consent for the fun there would be in it."I'd like to,"she told him after a little silence."I really would love it.But I've got some work that I must do.""Let the work wait,"urged Burns,relieved because she showed no resentment against the proposal."I want to get this picture made.It's going to be a hummer.There's punch to it,or there will be,if--""But you see,"Jean's drawl slipped across his eager,domineering voice,"I have to earn some money,lots of it.There's something I need it for.It's--important."
"You'll earn money at this,"he told her bluntly.
"You didn't think I'd ask you to work for nothing,I hope.I ain't that cheap.It's like this:If you'll work in this picture and put over what I want,it'll be feature stuff.I'll pay accordingly.Of course,I can't say just how much,--this is just a try-out;you understand that.But if you can deliver the goods,I'll see that you get treated right.Some producers might play the cheap game just because you're green;but I ain't that kind,and my company ain't that kind.I'm out after results."Involuntarily his eyes turned toward the bluff."There's a ride down the bluff that I want,and a roping--say,can you throw a rope?"Jean laughed."Lite Avery says I can,"she told him,"and Lite Avery can almost write his name in the air with a rope.""If you can make that dash down the bluff,and do the roping I want,why--Lord!You'll have to be working a gold mine to beat what I'd be willing to pay for the stuff.""There's no place here in the coulee where you can ride down the bluff,"Jean informed him,"except back of the house,and that's out of sight.Farther over there's a kind of trail that a good horse can handle.I came down it on a run,once,with Pard.A man was drowning,over here in the creek,and I was up on the bluff and happened to see him and his horse turn over,--it was during the high water.So I made a run down off the point,and got to him in time to rope him out.You might use that trail."Robert Grant Burns stood and stared at her as though he did not see her at all.In truth,he was seeing with his professional eyes a picture of that dash down the bluff.He was seeing a "close-up"of Jean whirling her loop and lassoing the drowning man just as he had given up hope and was going under for the third time.
Lee Milligan was the drowning man!and the agony of his eyes,and the tenseness of Jean's face,made Robert Grant Burns draw a long breath.
"Lord,what feature-stuff that would make!"he said under his breath."I'll write a scenario around that rescue scene."Whereupon he caught himself.It is not well for a director to permit his enthusiasm to carry him into injudicious speech.He chuckled to hide his eagerness."Well,you can show me that location,"he said,"and we'll get to work.You'll have to use the sorrel,of course;but I guess he'll be all right.