tional Society actually made Nan's ears burn.

She had other worries during these brief winter days--mostly other
people's worries, however. The absolute disappearance of Inez was one;
another was the whereabouts of the two runaway girls, Sallie and Celia,
who should by this time have discovered that they were not destined to be
great motion picture actresses.

Nan had come away from the apartment of her friend, "the Moving Picture
Queen," as Walter called her, that afternoon, with the address of the
studio and a letter to Madam's assistant, Mr. Gray. The next morning, she
and Bess went to the studio to make inquiries about the runaway girls.
They went alone because Grace had much to do before returning to school;
and now their day of departure for Lakeview was close at hand.

"And oh! how I hate to go back to those horrid studies again,"
groaned Bess.

Nan laughed. "What a ridiculous girl you are, Bess Harley," she said.
"You were just crazy to go to Lakeview in the first place."

"Yes! wasn't I?" interposed Bess, gloomily. "But I didn't know I
was crazy."

When once the chums came to the motion picture studio they had no thought
for anything but their errand and the interesting things they saw on
every side. At a high grilled gate a man let them into the courtyard
after a glance at the outside of the letter Nan carried.

"You'll find Mr. Gray inside somewhere," said the gatekeeper. "You'll
have to look for him."

Nan and Bess were timid, and they hesitated for some moments in the paved
yard, uncertain which of the several doors to enter. They saw a number of
girls and men enter through the gate as they had, and watched the men
hurry to one door, and the women and girls to another.

"Lets follow those girls," suggested Bess, as a chattering trio went into
the building. "We can't go far wrong, for the sheep and the goats seem to
be separated," and she giggled.

"Meaning the men from the women?" said Nan. "I guess those doors lead to
the dressing rooms."

She was right in this, for when the two friends stepped doubtfully into a
long, high, white-plastered passage, which was quite empty, but out of
which many doors opened, they heard a confusion of conversation and
laughter from somewhere near.

"What are you going to do?" asked Bess, at once--and as usual--shifting
all responsibility to her chum's shoulders. "Knock at all the doors, one
after the other, until we find somebody who will direct us further?"