irls stared hard at Henry Thorne. It was so like him to toss off an
important statement in an off-hand manner that it left them almost
gasping for breath.

"Why, Dad, what do you mean?" demanded Helen.

"Just what I said," smiled her father. "How would you and Janet like to
go to Radio City for several weeks?"

"I'd like it fine," put in Janet quickly and Helen chorused her own
agreement.

"Now tell us what it's all about," insisted Helen.

"I'm a little vague on it myself," admitted her father, "except that the
studio is planning an extensive promotion stunt to boost my last
picture, 'Kings of the Air,' and the general manager, Mr. Rexler, is
going to send a part of the cast to New York City where they'll put on a
radio drama based on the action in the new picture. The whole idea is to
whet the appetites of the film fans by giving them just enough of the
story over the air to make them rush to the nearest theater and see the
actual picture."

"But where do we come in?" asked Janet. "We were only very minor members
of the cast."

"True enough, but some of the principals are now working on other
pictures and it would be impractical to release them and send them east
for a promotional stunt so some of the lesser members of the company
will make the trip."

"Maybe we're lucky to be lesser members," smiled Helen. "When do we
start?"

"I don't know exactly. The release date for 'Kings' is next month, so I
expect you'll leave here in a few weeks."

"That will give me just time enough to try the scenario for Billy
Fenstow," said Janet. "Maybe I'd better start work on it tonight."

"You look pretty tired. Better wait until morning when you'll be
thoroughly rested," advised Helen's father.

They adjourned to the living room where they gathered around a large
table and discussed possible story plots that Janet could use. She made
several notes and then, with Helen, retired early.

A second night of sleep found the girls feeling greatly refreshed. Henry
Thorne loaned Janet his own portable typewriter and she set it on a low
table beside the swimming pool, found some yellow copy paper in the
house, rolled a fresh sheet into the typewriter, and sat down waiting
for an idea to pop into her head.

"Hello, author!" said someone from behind her and she swung about to
face Curt Newsom, who had walked up unheralded.

"Hello, Curt. Sit down. My, but I'm glad to see you. Are you all right
after the fire?"

The cowboy s