and his company wasn't out a cent for salaries or
transportation. Of course he probably had as good a right to get
pictures of the well as we did."

"But not to film my company!" exclaimed Mr. Pertell, with energy. "I
won't stand for that; I'll have a stop put to it!"

"First I'm afraid we'll have to catch him," observed Russ. "He certainly
made himself scarce when we ran after him."

"Well, he isn't on this train, that's sure," went on the manager, "and
he'll have some trouble picking up our trail after this."

"How's that?" asked Russ.

"Why, I'm going to change our plans. We'll skip the next stop. I was
going to go up around the Great Lakes and make part of a drama there,
showing the effect the lakes and their trade had on the growth of our
country. Now I'll wait until we are on our way back from Rocky Ranch."

"That will be a good idea," agreed the young camera operator. "Those
International people must be pretty hard put to it to steal your ideas."

"They are," said Mr. Pertell. "They want to do me an injury. I had some
trouble with them years ago, and I won out in a lawsuit. Since then they
have been injuring me every chance they could get; but it really
amounted to little until lately. Now they are evidently getting
desperate, and they are using every means to make trouble for me."

"Well, we'll just have to be on the lookout for them at every turn,"
Russ declared.

Owing to the decision of Mr. Pertell that he would not, at this time,
take his company to the Great Lakes, a change in the route had to be
made. This necessitated stopping off for one night at a small country
town, where the company put up at the only hotel the place afforded.

"What a miserable place!" exclaimed Miss Pennington, tilting up her head
when she entered the office with the others.

"And such a horrid smell!" added Miss Dixon, as she stripped off her
long gloves with an air of being used to dining every day at the most
exclusive hotels. "I believe they are actually cooking--cabbage, Pearl."

"I agree with you, my dear! Isn't it awful! Can it be--cabbage?"

"Yah! Dot's right!" exclaimed Mr. Switzer, rubbing his hands. "Dot's
cabbage, all right--sauerkraut, too. Goot!"

"Ugh!" protested Miss Pennington, making a gesture of annoyance.

"I am glat dot ve come here," went on the German. "I haf not hat any
sauerkraut--dot is, not any to mention of--since ve left New York."

"Why, I saw you eating some the other day," laughed Pa