The company of actors were dissolving into hysterical laughter, in which the plain clothes men joined sheepishly. Just then a young woman came around the house from the back, followed at a short distance by Nyoda, Sahwah and Hinpoha. Seeing the crowd in front she stopped in surprise. Larue went to the edge of the porch and called to her reassuringly. “Come on, Belle,” he called, gaily. When she was up on the porch he took her by the hand and led her forward. “Permit me to introduce my fellow conspirator,” he said, in a theatrical manner and with a low bow. “Zis is Belle Mortimer, ze leading lady of ze Great Western Film Company!”
CHAPTER VII.—MOVING PICTURES.
The Winnebagos looked at each other speechlessly. Belle Mortimer, the famous motion picture actress, whom they had seen on the screen dozens of times, and for whom Migwan had long entertained a secret and devouring adoration! Not Bella Venoti at all! “Did you ever?” gasped Sahwah.
“No, I never,” answered the Winnebagos, in chorus.
Miss Mortimer recognized her hostesses of the day before and greeted them warmly. “My kind friends from Onoway House,” she called them. The Winnebagos were embarrassed to death to have to explain how they had spied on the vacant house and thought the famous Venoti gang was at work, and were themselves responsible for the presence of the policemen.
“I never heard of anything so funny,” she said, laughing until the tears came. “I never heard of anything so funny!” The plain clothes men departed in their automobile, disappointed at not having made the grand capture they had expected to. “Would you like to stay with us for the day and watch us work?” asked Miss Mortimer.
“Oh, could we?” breathed Migwan. She was in the seventh heaven at the thought of being with Belle Mortimer so long. Then followed a day of delirious delight. To begin with, the Winnebagos were introduced to the whole company, many of whose names were familiar to them. Felix Larue, having gotten over the fright he had received when he thought the piece was going to be suppressed by the police for some unaccountable reason, was all smiles and amiability, and explained anything the girls wanted to know about. The piece was a very exciting one, full of thrilling incidents and danger, and the girls were held spellbound at the physical feats which some of those actors performed. The house on the raft was explained as the play progressed. It was filled with soldiers and towed up the river, to all appearances merely a garage being moved by its owner. But when a dispatch bearer of the enemy, whose family lived in the house, stopped to see them while he was carrying an important message, the soldiers rushed out from the garage, sprang ashore, seized the man along with the message and carried him away in the launch, which had been cut away from the raft while the capture was being made. Migwan thought of the tame little plots she had written the winter before and was filled with envy at the creator of this stirring play.
It took a whole week to make the film of “The Honor of a Soldier” and in that time the girls saw a great deal of Miss Mortimer. And one blessed night she stayed at Onoway House with them, instead of motoring back to the city with the rest of the company. Just as Migwan was dying of admiration for her, so she was attracted by this dreamy-eyed girl with the lofty brow. In a confidential moment Migwan confessed that she had written several motion picture plays the winter before, all of which had been rejected. “Do you mind if I see them?” asked Miss Mortimer. Much embarrassed, Migwan produced the manuscripts, written in the form outlined in the book she had bought. Miss Mortimer read them over carefully, while Migwan awaited her verdict with a beating heart.
“Well?” she asked, when Miss Mortimer had finished reading them.
“Who told you to put them in this form?” asked Miss Mortimer.