nodded and swung into the saddle of the rangy sorrel.
Billy Fenstow climbed onto the light truck which carried the cameras and Janet’s horse trotted along behind as the vehicle rolled away across the valley in which the ranch was located. They went for perhaps two miles through the hills to a hamlet along a branch line railroad which had served as the cow town for the picture’s locale. It was here that Janet began her ride, but before she started she looked to the cinches.
She remounted and sat easily in the saddle, waiting for the signal to start.
Billy Fenstow waved his hand and the truck started swiftly away, Janet riding hard after it. She rode with a natural lithesomeness of her body. The light felt hat which had been crushed over her brown hair came off. She clutched at it instinctively, but missed, and kept on riding, her golden hair streaming away from her shoulders. Janet smiled to herself. At least that would give a realistic effect.
She watched the director covertly and when he motioned again she sent the sorrel racing away from the camera truck at an angle so the cameras could get a side shot. Then the truck moved ahead of her.
It was hot and dry, and anything but an easy task to ride a horse pounding along as hard as the big sorrel. Finally they topped the last hill and swept down into the valley and Janet braced herself for the last bit of action.
Curt, near the water hole, looked up when he heard the pounding hoofs and Janet hurled herself from the saddle and ran to him.
“Quick, Curt, they’re riding hard behind me. You’ve got to get out of here. I’ll stay and watch the ranch.”
But Curt refused and the action was cut there.
Janet was dusty and sweaty and she walked to the pump and drank deeply of the cool, sweet water.
“I can imagine there might have been a fight over this ranch in the early days,” she said.
“There was,” grinned Curt, “but it wasn’t nearly as big a one as we’re putting into the picture.”
Janet’s hardest scene for the day was over and Helen was in only one or two minor shots so they passed part of the afternoon packing up their things in preparation for the departure the next afternoon.
It was nearly dinner time when a dust covered car rolled into the valley and approached the ranchhouse.
Janet and Helen, sitting on the front steps, watched it with interest which deepened as they saw an Iowa license plate on the front of the car.
“That almost looks like home,” said Helen. “Why, the number’s from our home county. Maybe it’s someone we know.”
But the sun was flashing off the windshield, effectively shielding the passengers in the car.
The machine swung to a stop a few feet away and Janet and Helen, when they saw the passengers, recognized them with mixed emotions.
Chapter Three
SURPRISE CALLERS
The newcomers were Cora Dean and Margie Blake, classmates from Clarion, who had been Janet and Helen’s chief rivals for almost every honor during their last four years in school.
“What under the sun do you suppose they want here?” asked Helen under her breath.
“We’ll soon find out,” retorted Janet, rising and advancing to greet Cora and Margie.
Cora was dark like Helen, while Margie’s hair was almost as golden blonde as Janet’s, the difference being that Margie used drug store coloring, and Janet depended on the natural shade.
“Hello Cora, hello Margie. This is a surprise,” said Janet as she greeted them and Helen echoed the sentiment a minute later.
“We’ve been touring through the west. When we learned a company was shooting a picture out here we came on over. We didn’t know until we stopped in the village that it was the company you’re with.” It was Cora, her tongue as sharp as ever, making the explanation.
Margie was taking in everything and fairly gaping at the cowboys who in their picturesque garb, were lounging nearby waiting for the gong to call them to supper.
Billy Fenstow came by and Janet called to him, introducing Cora and Margie.
“Have them stay for dinner and meet the company,” said the director, who, with the film on schedule, felt particularly hospitable.
“Oh, we’d love that,” gurgled Cora. “We’ve always wanted to see a picture being taken.”
Billy Fenstow scratched his head.
“Well, we’re all through for today, but if Janet and Helen could bunk double and give you one of the beds in their room, you could stay over and see the final shooting tomorrow.”
“Why, that would be grand,” put in Margie, “and I’m sure Janet and Helen won’t mind doubling up.”
There was little Janet or Helen could say, except to agree, and they helped Cora and Margie get their bags out of the car and escorted them up to the room which they occupied.
At dinner that night they introduced the girls to all of the members of the company who ate at the ranchhouse and Janet noted that Cora could hardly keep her eyes off tall, handsome Curt Newsom. Curt was nice to them, as he was to everybody, explaining carefully all of the questions they asked.
That night Cora asked a question that had kept her on edge all evening.
“Do you suppose we could get in one of the scenes tomorrow?” she asked Janet. “Surely you or Helen could get the director to use us just a little bit.”
Janet was dubious. It was the last day at the ranch and there would be much to be done. Billy Fenstow would be in no mood for trifles such as working friends into scenes.
“If it wasn’t the last day I think it could be arranged,” put in Helen, “but I’d hate to ask Mr. Fenstow to do it under the circumstances.”
Margie pouted visibly and Cora, always arrogant, flared up.
“Oh, of course you won’t. Just because your father’s a director and they have to put you in pictures you won’t say a good word for anyone else. How do we know you’re even in this company?”
“You’ll have to take our word for it until you see the picture on the screen,” retorted Helen.
Janet could understand the tremendous desire of Cora and Margie to appear in a scene. It was the most natural thing in the world and she felt just a little sorry for them.
“I’ll speak to Mr. Fenstow in the morning,” she promised. “If he’s in a good mood he may find a spot for you, but if he’s grouchy he’ll probably order you away from the place.”
“How do you know when he’s grouchy?” asked Margie.
“You don’t until after you’ve asked him,” replied Janet, with a thin smile.
Cora and Margie exhibited a tremendous curiosity, asking questions about everything and from almost everyone, Cora especially plaguing Curt Newsom, until the tall cowboy star finally found an excuse to escape from
