nice neighbor," agreed Mr. Hammond. "I hope Wonota
will repay us for all the bother we have had with Dakota Joe."

"It seems too bad. Of course, it is not Wonota's fault," said Ruth. "But
if we had not come across her--if I had not met her, I mean--you would
not have been annoyed in this way, Mr. Hammond."

"Take it the other way around, Miss Ruth," returned her friend, with a
quizzical smile. "We should be very glad that you did meet Wonota.
Considering what that mad bull would have done to you if she had not
swerved him by a rifle shot, a little bother like this is a small price
to pay."

"Oh--well!"

"In addition," said Mr. Hammond briskly, "look what we may make out of
the Indian girl. She may coin us a mint of money, Ruth Fielding."

"Perhaps," smiled Ruth.

But she was not so eager for money. The thing that fascinated her
imagination was the possibility that they might make of Wonota, the
Osage maiden, a great and famous movie star. Ruth desired very much to
have a part in that work.

She knew, because Mr. Hammond had told her, as well as Wonota herself,
that the Osage Indians as a tribe were the wealthiest people under the
guardianship of the American Government. Their oil leases were fast
bringing the tribe a great fortune. But Wonota, being under age, had no
share in this wealth. At this time the income of the tribe was between
four and five thousand dollars a day--and the tribe was not large.

"But Wonota can have none of that," explained the Indian maid. "It is
apportioned to the families, and Totantora, the head of my family, is
somewhere in that Europe where the war is. I can get no share of the
money. It is not allowed."

So, with the incentive of getting money for her search, Wonota was
desirous of pleasing her white friends in every particular. Besides,
ambition had budded in the girl's heart. She wanted to be a screen
actress.

"If your 'Brighteyes,' Miss Fielding, is ever shown at Three Rivers
Station or Pawhuska, where the Agency is, I know every member of the
tribe will go to see the film. When some of the young men of our tribe
acted in a round-up picture when I was a little girl, even the old men
and great-grandmothers traveled a hundred miles to see the film run off.
It was like an exodus, for some of them were two days and nights on the
way"

"The Osage Indians are not behind the times, then?" laughed Ruth. "They
are movie fans?"

"They realize that their own day has departed. Th