emed more reasonable.

But, having read the really good story scrawled on the scraps of brown
paper that John, the hermit, had put in the manager's hands, the girl had
suddenly claimed the authorship of the story. There was nothing to prove
her claim. It looked dubious at the best.

John, the hermit, was a grim old man. No matter whether he was some old
actor hiding away here on Beach Plum Point or not, he was not a man to
give up easily anything that he had once said was his.

The manager was far too wise to accuse the hermit openly, as Ruth had
accused him. They would not get far with the old fellow that way, he was
sure.

First of all he called the company together and asked if there were any
more scenarios to be submitted. "No," being the answer, he told them
briefly that out of the twenty-odd stories he had accepted one that might
be whipped into shape for filming--and one only.

Each story submitted had been numbered and the number given to its author.
The scripts could now be obtained by the presentation of the numbers. He
did not tell them which number had proved successful. Nor did he let it be
known that he proposed to try to film the hermit's production.

Mr. Hooley was using old John on this day in a character part. For these
"types" the director usually paid ten or fifteen dollars a day; but John
was so successful in every part he was given that Mr. Hooley always paid
him an extra five dollars for his work. Money seemed to make no difference
in the hermit's appearance, however. He wore just as shabby clothing and
lived just as plainly as he had when the picture company had come on to
the lot.

When work was over for the day, Hooley sent the old man to Mr. Hammond's
office. The president of the company invited the hermit into his shack and
gave him a seat. He scrutinized the man sharply as he thus greeted him. It
was quite true that the hermit did not wholly fit the character he assumed
as a longshore waif.

In the first place, his skin was not tanned to the proper leathery look.
His eyes were not those of a man used to looking off over the sea. His
hands were too soft and unscarred for a sailor's. He had never pulled on
ropes and handled an oar!

Now that Ruth Fielding had suggested that his character was a disguise,
Mr. Hammond saw plainly that she must be right. As he was a good actor of
other parts before the camera, so he was a good actor in his part of
"hermit."

"How long have you lived ov