the veranda.

The two girls from the moving picture camp passed a pleasant evening with
their New York friends. The Copley girls always managed to gather, Helen
declared, "perfectly splendid house parties;" and they had brought with
them several companionable girls and young men.

Music and dancing filled the evening, and it was ten o'clock when the two
chums from Cheslow sought their motor-boat and set out for the camp on
the Chippewa Bay island. Chess Copley had kept by Ruth's side almost all
the evening, and although Helen treated him so cavalierly, she seemed
provoked at her chum for paying the young man so much attention.

"I don't understand what you see in Chess," she said in a vexed tone to
the girl of the Red Mill. "He's nothing much."

"He is pleasant, and you used to like him," said Ruth quietly.

"Humph!" Helen tossed her head. "I found him out. And he's not to be
compared with Tommy-boy."

"I quite agree with you--that is, considering Tom as a brother," observed
Ruth, and after that refused to be led into further discussion regarding
Chess Copley.

It was not often that Ruth and Helen had a disagreement. And this was not
really of importance. At least, there was no sign of contention between
them in the morning.

To tell the truth, there was so much going on, on this day, that the
girls could scarcely have found time to quarrel. The sun was bright and
the sky cloudless. It was an ideal day for out-of-door "shots," and the
camera men and Mr. Hooley had the whole company astir betimes.

The few real Indians, besides Wonota and Totantora, in the company, and
all those "extras" who were dressed as aborigines, got into their
costumes before breakfast. Soon after eight o'clock the company got away
in barges, with launches to tow them through the quiet waterways.

In a costume play like this that had been planned, the participants
naturally make a very brilliant spectacle wherever they appear. But among
the islands of Chippewa Bay there were few spectators at this time save
the wild fowl.

"And they," Helen said, "might be descendants of the very birds who
looked on the actual first appearance of the white man in this
wilderness. Isn't it wonderful?"

When Mr. Hooley, megaphone in hand and stationed with the two cameras on
one of the decked-over barges, had got his company in position and the
action was begun, it was indeed an impressive picture. Of course, a scene
is not made off-hand--not even an o