e line we forms.

Yep, that was some weddin', if I do say it. And the sit-down luncheon
I'd ordered at the Country Club in Mr. Robert's name wa'n't any skimpy
affair, even though we did spring an extra number on 'em offhand. For
the boss insists on goin' just as we are, in our costumes, and luggin'
along all the movie people. The reckless way he buys fizz for 'em, too!

And, by the time the party breaks up, Whitey Weeks is so full of
gratitude and enthusiasm and other things that he near bubbles over.

"Torchy," says he, wringin' my hand fraternal, "you have given my
company the time of their lives. They're all strong for you. And, say,
I've got a thousand feet of film that's simply going to knock 'em cold
at the first-run houses. Any time I can----"

"Don't mention it," says I. "Specially about that film. The boss don't
know yet that you had the camera goin'. Thought it was only rehearsin',
I guess. All he's sure of now is that he's been married merry. And if he
ever forgets just how merry, for a dime he can go take a look and
refresh his mem'ry, can't he? But I'm bettin' he never forgets."

THE END

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JOHN FOX, JR'S. STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.

THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE.
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.

The "lonesome pine" from which the story takes its name was a tall tree
that stood in solitary splendor on a mountain top. The fame of the pine
lured a young engineer through Kentucky to catch the trail, and when he
finally climbed to its shelter he found not only the pine but the
_foot-prints of a girl_. And the girl proved to be lovely, piquant, and
the trail of these girlish foot-prints led the young engineer a madder
chase than "the trail of the lonesome pine."

THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.

This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as "Kingdom Come."
It is a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural and honest, from which
often springs the flower of civilization.

"Chad," the "little shepherd" did not know who he was nor whence he
came--he had just wandered from door to door since early childhood,
seeking shelter with kindly mountaineers who gladly fathered and
mothered this waif about whom there was such a mystery--a charming
waif, by the way, who could