scenes, and on any location, and
break up the show. This is going to cost money, Miss Ruth."

"I know it, Mr. Hammond. But it never crossed my mind that it was on that
very island I had my meeting with the man."

"When Hooley tries to shoot the picture again we must send somebody up
into that island to watch for the old fellow. He'd better be under
confinement, anyway, if he's crazy."

"The poor old thing." Ruth sighed. "I don't think he means any harm--"

"He's harmed us all right," grumbled the president of the Alectrion Film
Corporation. "I tell you, a day's work like this--with such salaries as
we pay, and supplies and all--mounts into real money."

"Oh," said Ruth, "some of the film can be saved. All that until the
Frenchmen land--"

"We won't dare risk it. In a costume story like this somebody is sure to
get his dress, or armor, or something, different next time from what it
was to-day. And if we try to save any part of this piece of film the
change will show up in the finished picture. Every critical spectator
will see the break and will comment upon it. Might as well make up our
minds to take the loss; but we must be sure that a similar accident does
not occur again."

"Will Mr. Hooley risk taking the scene over on that island?" asked Ruth
thoughtfully.

"Why not? It is a fine location--couldn't be beat. We've got to shoo that
old man out of it, that's all."

The girl had an idea that if she could meet the queer old man again she
might be able to convince him that some other island would serve quite as
well for his "kingdom" as that particular isle. At any rate, she hated
the thought of his being abused or roughly treated.

Soon after the fiasco in the projection room, Tom Cameron arrived by
motor-boat from the town across the bay. Now, Ruth was secretly very glad
to see Tom. She always would be glad to see his sunny face, no matter how
or when. But she could not approve of his being here at the Thousand
Islands at this particular time.

Tom had grown up to be one of those young men who do not know what they
want to do in life, and the reaction from the strain of his military life
had, as was natural, intensified this tendency to drift. After the time
that he had determined to be a soldier, then to go West and hunt Indians
and grizzly bears, and then shifted to the desire to be a pirate or a
policeman, Tom Cameron had really expressed very little taste for any
commercial pursuit.

He had made his