"Sure. There's a law against travelin' naked in some States. Where you been grazin' lately?"
"In the bull-pasture; and say, Red, it's gettin' warm there, for some."
"Well, I guess I'll beat it," said Overland.
"Take a slant at the door first."
Overland turned leisurely. In the doorway stood the traffic officer. He glanced from Orcutt to the two men near the table. "Hello, Sweeney!" he called, glancing a second time at Overland.
"Hello!" answered Sweeney, strolling to the end of the bar. "Somebody speedin'?"
"Yes. Say, who's the guy, the big one?"
"Him? Oh, that's Billy Sample, the fella that does the desert stuff for the General Film Company. The kid is his pardner who acts the tenderfoot. They 're waitin' for the machine now to take 'em out to Glendale. Got some stunt to pull off this afternoon, so Billy was tellin' me. They're about half-stewed now. They make me sick."
"Thought I saw the big guy out on the street a minute ago," said the officer, hesitating. "There's a card out for a fella that looks like him. I guess—"
"He thought it was his machine comin'," said Orcutt. "He run out to see. It's a wonder how them movie actors can make up to look like most anybody. Why, I been in your line of business, as you know, and I been fooled lots of times. Makes a fella feel like he don't know where he's at with the town full of them movin'-picture actors."