“May I ask what plans your August Highness has made for us, once we reach Seattle?” asked Chess.
“Tom knows. He does all that sort of thing for me, you know,” said Ruth, with a grateful glance at the young fellow. “We are stopping at the Tevor-Grand, aren’t we, Tom—there to meet the rest of the crowd?”
Tom nodded and Helen said eagerly:
“Who are the crowd, Ruth? Will there be many?”
“About twelve actors, three cameramen and two directors,” said Ruth, looking remarkably businesslike as she counted them off on her fingers. “There will be quite a company of us—and all picked players at that.”
“But why two assistant directors?” Helen asked. “I should think you were a dozen all rolled into one, Ruthie.”
“She is the big one, of course,” Tom explained, a proud note in his voice.
“The big cheese, the whole works, so to speak,” Chess interpolated.
“Just about,” returned the grinning Tom. “These two other directors are merely understudies, you understand, directing the minor scenes and otherwise taking some of the load off her shoulders.”
“I shouldn’t think they would enjoy being bossed about by a girl,” said Helen. She had spoken impulsively and was instantly sorry when she saw a shadow of uneasiness cross Ruth’s face.