retty clothes, I am sure."

"Then," said Helen, with more animation, "let us chip in--all three of
us--and purchase the very nicest kind of an outfit for Wonota--a real
party dress and 'all the fixin's,' girls! What say?"

"I vote 'Aye!'" agreed Jennie.

"The thought is worthy of you, Helen," said Ruth proudly. "You always
do have the nicest ideas. And I am sure it will please Wonota to be
dressed as were some of the girls we saw in the audiences at the
theatres we took her to."

"But!" ejaculated Jennie Stone, "we can't possibly get that sort of
clothes out of a mail-order catalog."

"I know just what we can do, Jennie. There is your very own
dressmaker--that Madame Jone you took me to."

"Oh! Sure! Mame Jones, you mean!" cried the fleshy girl with enthusiasm.
"Aunt Kate has known Mame since she worked as an apprentice with some
Fifth Avenue firm. Now Madame Jone goes to Paris--when there is no war
on--twice a year. She will do anything I ask her to."

"That is exactly what I mean," Helen said. "It must be somebody who will
take an interest in Wonota. Send your Madame Jone a photograph of
Wonota--"

"Several of them," exclaimed Ruth, interested as well, although
personally she did not care so much for style as her chums. "Let the
dressmaker get a complete idea of what Wonota looks like."

"And the necessary measurements," Helen said. "Give her _carte blanche_
as to goods and cost--"

"Would that be wise?" interposed the more cautious Ruth.

"Leave it to me!" exclaimed Jennie Stone with confidence. "We shall
have a dandy outfit, but Mame Jones will not either overcharge us or
make Wonota's frock and lingerie too _outre_."

"It win be fine!" declared Helen.

"I believe it will," agreed the girl of the Red Mill.

"It will be nothing less than a knock-out," crowed Jennie, slangily.

The three friends had plenty of topics of conversation besides new
frocks for Ruth's Indian star. The work of making the scenes of the
prologue of "Brighteyes" went on apace, and although they all escaped
acting in any of the scenes, they watched most of them from the
sidelines.

Mr. Hooley had found a bright little girl (although she had no Indian
blood in her veins) to play the part of the sick child in the Indian
wigwam. These shots were taken in a big hay barn near the special car
standing at Clearwater, and with the aid of the electric plant that had
been set up here the "interiors" were very promising.

Several other