sa hands together lika barber while we taka
lasta reel. Everything she'sa fine till we come to place where De
Vronde he'sa get lynch and Miss Vincent--ah!--she'sa come up on horse
and sava him. Then Meester Potts he'sa rush over and stoppa the
cameras. 'No!' he'sa yell. 'No, by Heaven, I won't stand for that!
That's a rotten! You got to get difference ending froma that!'"

"What was the matter?" I asks him. "Didn't he want De Vronde saved?"

His shoulders does one of them muscle dances.

"Ask me!" he says. "I couldn't tella you! He'sa know nothing about
art! Joosta money--that's all. He'sa tella me girl saving leading man
from lynch lika that is old as he'sa fren' Methuselah! He'sa want
something new for finish that picture--bran' new, he'sa holler or no
picture! All morning I worka, worka, worka, he'sa maka faces at
everything I do!"

"Well!" I says. "If you--"

I happened to look up just then and I seen the well known gates of Film
City about a hundred yards away, and if we was makin' a mile an hour,
we was makin' fifty. I leaned over and tapped the Kid on the shoulder.

"Don't you think you had better slow up a trifle?" I asks him.

"I don't _think_ nothin' about it!" he throws over his shoulder. "I
_know_ it! I been tryin' to stop this thing for the last fifteen
minutes and there's nothin' doin'!"

"Throw her in reverse!" I screams, as them great big iron gates looms
up over the front mud guards.

"I can't!" he shouts. "The darned thing's stuck in high and I can't
budge it!"

One of them gates was open and the Kid steers for it, while I closed my
eyes and give myself over to prayer. We shot through leavin' one lamp,
both mudguards and a runnin' board behind.

"Hey!" yells Genaro. "What's a mat? Thisa too fasta for me! Stoppa
the car before something she'sa happen!"

"Somethin' she'sa gonna happen right now!" I says. "Be seated!"

The Kid swings around a corner and everybody in Film City is either
lookin', runnin' or yellin' after us. I often wondered what a wide
berth meant, and I found out that afternoon. That's what everybody in
the place give us when we come through there hittin' on six as I.
Markowitz would remark. A guy made up like a Indian chief jumped
behind a tree and we only missed him by dumb luck.

"Hey!" he yells after us. "Are you fellows crazy? Look out for the
Moorish Castle!"

I yelled back that we wouldn't miss nothin' of interest, if we could
help it