old,' he said; and that you
were keeping the thing back by--by--by wanting to hang around Frisco.
He said you two had a good thing and that you were spoiling it, and
that you were nearly broke and getting more so every minute.

"I kind of like him. He's funny, but I'll bet he's right. And he said
for me to give you the cold shoul--well, what he meant was for me to
advise you to hurry up and get out with him.

"But now listen: If I'd intended to do that I wouldn't have told you
that he told me to, would I? Of course not. I wanted to see you about
something else. Two things: First, I promised to tell you about the
moving picture you helped me with this morning. Then the other thing
is Mendocino." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Listen, I'm
from Mendocino County," she finished. "I've been away three years.
I'm nearly dying to talk to some one from up there!"

CHAPTER VIII

LUCY'S AMBITIONS

Learning that Lucy Dalles was from Mendocino County was startling, but
surprise over this took second place in Hiram Hooker's thoughts. He
was stricken with consternation to think that all the time he had been
before the jeweler's window, trying to nerve himself up to enter the
restaurant, she had known he was there.

"After your friend left the restaurant," she was saying, "I thought I'd
go out and tell you about me being from Mendocino. Just as I left the
door the hook-and-ladder came by. Then I stood by you watching the
fire, you know, till the Samax people drove up. Then I forgot
everything but getting the picture for the fire scene in 'The Crowning
Defeat.' I asked you to see Mr. Kenoke for me, and you did--and it was
dandy of you, too. Now I'll tell you about my scenarios; then I want
to talk about nothing but Mendocino County.

"Well, I write scenarios for moving-picture production," she went on.
"That's one reason why I wanted the cashier's job--so I could have the
use of the boss' old typewriter. I've been paying a public
stenographer fifty cents a thousand words to copy my work, and it cuts
into the profits when you get so little for a scenario.

"I've been writing them a year now. I've sold ten. That's not very
many, is it?--when you know; that I have written over fifty. I've sold
most of mine to this Samax Company, through the mail; and one day I
went to their Western studio, here in the city, and told them who I was
and got acquainted with Mr. Kenoke. He's their best producer, I