And the rest of you all be ready to give the wheels a lift.You're in pretty deep."When Jean dismounted and hooked the stirrup over the horn so that she could tighten the cinch,the eyes of Robert Grant Burns glistened at the "picture-stuff"she made.He glanced eloquently at Pete,and Pete gave a twisted smile and a pantomime of turning the camera-crank;whereat Robert Grant Burns shook his head regretfully and groaned again.
"Say,if I had a leading woman--"he began discontentedly,and stopped short;for Muriel Gay was standing quite close,and even through her grease-paint make-up she betrayed the fact that she knew exactly what her director was thinking,had seen and understood the gesture of the camera man,and was close to tears because of it all.
Muriel Gay was a conscientious worker who tried hard to please her director.Sometimes it seemed to her that her director demanded impossibilities of her;that he was absolutely soulless where picture-effects were concerned.Her riding had all along been a subject of discord between them.She had learned to ride very well along the bridle-paths of Golden Gate Park,but Robert Grant Burns seemed to expect her to ride--well,like this girl,for instance,which was unjust.
One could not blame her for glaring jealously while Jean tightened the cinch and remounted,tying her rope to the saddle horn,all ready to pull;with her muscles tensed for the coming struggle with the sand,--and perhaps with her horse as well,--and with every line of her figure showing how absolutely at home she was in the saddle,and how sure of herself.
"I've tied my rope,Lite,"Jean drawled,with a little laugh at what might happen.
Lite turned his face toward her."You better not,"be warned."Things are liable to start a-popping when that engine wakes up.""Well,then I'll want both hands for Pard.I've taken a couple of half-hitches,anyway.""You folks want to be ready at the wheels,"Lite directed,waiving the argument."When we start,you all want to heave-ho together.Good team-work will do it.
"All set?"he called to Jean,when Pete Lowry bent his back to start the engine."Business'll be pickin'up,directly!"
"All set,"replied Jean cheerfully.
It seemed then that everything began to start at once,and to start in different directions.The engine snorted and pounded so that the whole machine shook with ague.
When Pete jumped in and threw in the clutch,there was a backfire that sounded like the crack of doom.The two horses went wild,as their riders had half expected them to do.They lunged away from the horror behind them,and the slack ropes tightened with a jerk.
Both were good rope horses,and the strain of the ropes almost recalled them to sanity and their training;at least they held the ropes tight for a few seconds,so that the machine jumped ahead and veered toward the firmer soil beside the trail,in response to Pete's turn of the wheel.
Then Pard looked back and saw the thing coming after him,and tried to bolt.When he found that he could not,because of the rope,he bucked as he had not done since he was a half-broken broncho.That started Lite Avery's horse to pitching;and Pete,absorbed in watching what would have made a great picture,forgot to shut off the gas.
Robert Grant Burns picked himself out of the sand where he had sprawled at the first wild lunge of the machine,and saw Pete Lowry,humped over the wheel like any speed demon,go lurching off across the hollow in the wake of two fear-crazed animals,that threatened at any instant to bolt off at an angle that would overturn the car.
Then Lite let his rope slip from the saddle-horn and spurred his horse to one side,out of the danger zone of the other,while he felt frantically in his pockets for his knife.
"Don't you cut my rope,"Jean warned,when she saw him come plunging toward her,knife in hand.
"This is--fine training--for Pard!"
Pete came to himself,then,and killed the engine before he landed in the bottom of a yawning,water-washed hole,and Lite rode close and slashed Jean's rope,in spite of her protest;whereupon Pard went off up the,slope as though witches were riding him hard.
At long rifle range,he circled and faced the thing that had scared him so,and after a little Jean persuaded him to go back as far as the trail.Nearer he would not stir,so she waited there for Lite.
"Never even thanked us,"Lite grumbled when he came up,his mouth stretched in a wide smile."That girl with the kalsomine on her face made remarks about folks butting in.And the fat man talked into his double chin;dunno what all he was saying.Here's what's left of your rope.I'll get you another one,Jean.I was afraid that gazabo was going to run over you,is why I cut it.""What's the matter over there?Aren't they glad they're out of the sand?"Jean held her horse quiet while she studied the buzzing group.
"Something busted.I guess we done some damage."Lite grinned and watched them over his shoulder.
"You needn't go any further with me,Lite.That fat man's the one that had the cattle.I am going over to the ranch for awhile,but don't tell Aunt Ella."She turned to ride on up the hill toward the Lazy A,but stopped for another look at the perturbed motorists.
"Well anyway,we snaked them out of the sand,didn't we,Lite?""We sure did,"Lite chuckled."They don't seem thankful,but I guess they ain't any worse off than they was before.Anyway,it serves them right.They've no business here acting fresh."Lite said that because he was not given the power to peer into the future,and so could not know that Fate herself had sent Robert Grant Burns into their lives;and that,by a somewhat roundabout method,she was going to use the Great Western Film Company and Jean and himself for her servants in doing a work which Fate had set herself to do.