as undoubtedly the Montague girl. She
recognized him, even as she squeezed water from the hair of wondrous
gold.

"Hello, again, Kid. You're everywhere, ain't you? Say, wha'd you think
of that Rosenblatt man? Swore he'd put the steam into that water and
take off the chill. And he never." She threw aside the blanket and
squeezed water from her garments, then began to slap her legs, arms, and
chest.

"Well, I'm getting a gentle glow, anyhow. Wha'd you think of the scene?"

"It was good--very well done, indeed." He hoped it didn't sound
patronizing, though that was how he felt. He believed now that Miss
Baxter would have done it much better. He ventured a question. "But how
about Miss Baxter--when does she do something? Is she going to be swept
off the boat, too?"

"Baxter? Into that water? Quit your kidding!"

"But isn't she here at all--won't she do anything here?"

"Listen here, Kid; why should she loaf around on the set when she's
paying me good money to double for her?"

"You--double for Beulah Baxter?" It was some more of the girl's
nonsense, and a blasphemy for which he could not easily forgive her.

"Why not? Ain't I a good stunt actress? I'll tell the lot she hasn't
found any one yet that can get away with her stuff better than what I
do."

"But she--I heard her say herself she never allowed any one to double
for her--she wouldn't do such a thing."

Here sounded a scornful laugh from Jimmie, the prop--boy. "Bunk!"
said he at the laugh's end. "How long you been doublin' for her, Miss
Montague? Two years, ain't it?--I know it was before I come here, and I
been on the lot a year and a half. Say, he ought to see some the stuff
you done for her out on location, like jumpin' into the locomotive
engine from your auto and catchin' the brake beams when the train's
movin', and goin' across that quarry on the cable, and ridin' down
that lumber flume sixty miles per hour and ridin' some them outlaw
buckjumpers--he'd ought to seen some that stuff, hey, Miss Montague?"

"That's right, Jimmie, you tell him all about me. I hate to talk of
myself." Very wonderfully Merton Gill divined that this was said with
a humorous intention. Jimmy was less sensitive to values. He began to
obey.

"Well, I dunno--there's that motorcycle stuff. Purty good, I'll say.
I wouldn't try that, no, sir, not for a cool million dollars. And that
chase stuff on the roofs down town where you jumped across that court
that wasn't any too darne