"Can't use it in this scene." He laid his cheek to the cheek of his pet.
"Well, old pal, they're takin' yuh from me, but we got to keep a stiff
upper lip. You an' me has been through some purty lively times together,
but we got to face the music at last--there, Lowell, did you get that?"

The artist had made his study. He made three others of the same
affecting scene at different angles. Dexter was overwhelmed with
endearments. Doubtless he was puzzled--to be kicked in the ribs at one
moment, the next to be fondled. But Lowell Hardy was enthusiastic. He
said he would have some corking studies. He made another of Buck Benson
preparing to mount good old Pinto; though, as a matter of fact, Buck, it
appeared, was not even half prepared to mount.

"Go on, jump on him now," suggested the artist. "I'll get a few more
that way."

"Well, I don't know," Merton hesitated. He was twenty-two years old, and
he had never yet been aboard a horse. Perhaps he shouldn't try to go too
far in one lesson. "You see, the old boy's pretty tired from his week's
work. Maybe I better not mount him. Say, I'll tell you, take me rolling
a cigarette, just standing by him. I darned near forgot the cigarettes."

From the barn he brought a sack of tobacco and some brown papers. He had
no intention of smoking, but this kind of cigarette was too completely
identified with Buck Benson to be left out. Lolling against the side of
Dexter, he poured tobacco from the sack into one of the papers. "Get me
this way," he directed, "just pouring it out."

He had not yet learned to roll a cigarette, but Gus Giddings, the
Simsbury outlaw, had promised to teach him. Anyway, it was enough now
to be looking keenly out from under his hat while he poured tobacco into
the creased paper against the background of good old Pinto. An art study
of this pose was completed. But Lowell Hardy craved more action, more
variety.

"Go on. Get up on him," he urged. "I want to make a study of that."

"Well"--again Merton faltered--"the old skate's tired out from a hard
week, and I'm not feeling any too lively myself."

"Shucks! It won't kill him if you get on his back for a minute, will
it? And you'll want one on him to show, won't you? Hurry up, while the
light's right."

Yes, he would need a mounted study to show. Many times he had enacted
a scene in which a director had looked over the art studies of Clifford
Armytage and handed them back with the remark, "But you seem to play