Reporters and photographers stared.
“You’re kidding us!” one of them protested.
“I’m very serious,” replied Henry Thorne. “You boys let yourselves in for this. I’ve always played fair with you and you thought I was pulling a fast one on you so I let your imaginations run along for a while.”
“Then they’re not new stars?” asked one photographer, who had taken unusual care to get some excellent shots.
“I didn’t say they weren’t. Now here’s actually the story. The girls graduated from high school last week and this trip west is a present to them. Both of them have brains, better than average looks, and both of them can ride. Billy Fenstow is going to put them into his next western, but whether they’ll be any good is another question. I’m willing to bet that they will.”
The photographer called Joey looked at Janet and Helen critically.
“I’ll string along with you,” he decided. “Those girls look like winners to me.”
“Thanks Joey. I’ll remember that.”
“Any time you have a picture scoop,” Joey retorted.
The Thornes and Janet went on to a waiting sedan where a driver was ready to whirl them to the home Henry Thorne maintained in Hollywood.