Janet was in several shots that day riding to and from the ranch to the schoolhouse and in the afternoon they went to the schoolhouse where a dozen youngsters had been gathered. Most of them were actual pupils of the little school and the cameras ground away as Janet dismissed them from a make-believe class and watched them hurry away from school toward their homes, some of them afoot and others on sturdy little cow ponies.
Helen had little to do that day, but followed every action of the company with interest.
“What do you think of it?” she asked Janet that night as they lounged on the broad verandah of the ranchhouse.
“I like it a lot,” said Janet whole-heartedly. “Of course I realize I’m no actress, but the picture’s good and clean and it’s a consolation to be in something like that.”
Helen was silent for a time.
“What do you think about our future in the movies?” she asked.
Janet pondered the question before answering, for she, too, had been wondering that very thing.
“If you want to know the truth, I think we’re just about where we belong. I know I’m not a real actress. I can get by in a picture like this or in some minor rôle, but I’d never make a really top-notch actress and it would be rather heart-breaking to stay here and do this year in and year out.”
“Then that means you’ll go back to Clarion when summer’s over?” Helen asked the question with a touch of desperate anxiety in her voice.
“I suppose so,” replied Janet slowly, “for I know that I won’t be especially happy here. It’s been glorious fun and it still is, but it can’t last forever and I’m not fooling myself about that for a minute.”