ns around the other side to where the Kid is sitting examinin'
all them handles and buttons.

"_Sapristi_!" he yells at the Kid. "Where you go, Meester Kid Scanlan?
Everybody she's a look for you--Meester Potts he'sa want you right
away! We starta firsta reel of your picture to-day. Everybody she'sa
got to wait for you!"

"Keep your shirt on!" growls the Kid. "You told me this mornin' I had
lots of time, didn't you?"

Genaro grabs hold of a tree and does a little dance.

"Aha!" he remarks to the sky. "He'sa make me crazee! What you care
what I tole you this a morning? Joosta now I want you queek! You maka
mucha talk with me while Meester Potts and everybody she'sa wait for
you!"

"Well," says the Kid. "Get in here and we'll go there right away."

Genaro climbs in the back of the car.

"Hurry up!" he says, holdin' his ears. "Anything so she'a stop that
terrible noise. Hurry up!"

"I'll do that little thing!" pipes the Kid--and we was off.

I climbed over the seat and in the back with Genaro so's he wouldn't
feel lonesome, and, so's if the Kid hit anything, I'd have a little
more percentage in my favor. Genaro seems to be sore about something
and to make conversation I ask him what's the matter.

"Everything she's the matter!" he tells me, while the Kid keeps his
foot on the gas and we bump and clatter along the road. "Everything
she's the matter! I work all morning on lasta reel of 'The Escapes of
Eva.' Got two hundred extra people stand around do nothing. De
Vronde, the bigga bunk, he's a play lead with Miss Vincent." He stops
and kisses his hand at a tree we was passing "Ah!" he goes on. "She'sa
fina girl! Some time maybe I ask her--pardone, I talka too fast!
Lasta reel De Vronde he'sa get what you call lynched. They putta rope
around he'sa neck and he's a stand under bigga tree. Joosta as they
pulla rope to keel him, Miss Vincent," he throws another kiss at a
tree. "Ah! sucha fina girl!" he whispers at me rollin' his eyes.
"Sometime I--pardone, everytime I forget! Miss Vincent she'sa come
along on horse and sava he'sa life--you see?"

"I got you!" I tells him. "Then what happens?"

"_Sapristi_!" he says. "That's all! What you want for five reels?
But thisa morning, Meester Potts he'sa come up and watch. He'sa
president of company and knows much about money, but acting--bah! he'sa
know nothing! Gotta three year old boy he'sa know more! He'sa standa
there and smile and rub he'