ndians by the
first French priests. This allegory included the landing of the French
upon the shore of a rocky island where they were met by the wondering
Indians, and Mr. Hooley's assistant had chosen the spot for this scene to
be "shot," not far from the place where the company had its headquarters.

Ruth paid little attention to the locations until the moment arrived for
the camera work. In fact, after supplying the detailed script she had
little to do with the preparation of the picture until the scenes were
made. She had never made continuity, as it is called, for that is more or
less of a mechanical process and is sure to interfere with the creative
faculty of the screen writer.

In the afternoon of this day Helen engaged a motor-boat, and she and Ruth
set out for the Copley island, which was some miles away, toward
Alexandria Bay. Caretakers and servants had been at work there for some
time, it was evident, for the lawns were neatly shaved, the gardens in
full growth, and the family were already comfortably settled in their
summer home.

Chess Copley must have been on the watch (could it be possible that he
had inside information about this early visit of Helen and Ruth?) for he
came running down to the dock before the gardener could reach that point
to fasten the boat's line.

"Hurrah!" he shouted. "I was just wondering if we would see you girls
to-day; and if you hadn't come I should have got out our launch and tried
to find your camp this evening."

"Oh, hullo, Chess," Helen said coolly as she stepped ashore, refusing his
assistance. "Where are the girls?"

"There they are--waiting for you on the porch," he said, rather subdued
it would seem by her bruskness.

Helen started directly for the wide veranda of the villa-like house that
topped the higher part of the island. There were several acres of grounds
about the Copley house, for the whole island was cultivated to the
water's edge. There was nothing wild left in the appearance of the
property, save a few of the tall forest trees that had been allowed to
stand and some huge boulders almost covered with climbing vines.

Ruth gave Chess her hand--and he squeezed it warmly. She gave him a frank
smile, and Chess seemed comforted.

"Nell's dreadfully tart with a fellow," he grumbled. "She's nothing like
she used to be. But you are kind, Ruth."

"You should not wear your heart on your sleeve," she told him briskly, as
they followed Helen Cameron toward