longer over stepping into the official shoes of Robert Grant Burns, who
was lying on his broad back, and shouting pitifully futile commands to
his company and asking an imaginary camera-man questions which were as
Greek to the soft-footed nurse. Dewitt, having just come from a visit to
Burns, had a vivid mental picture of that ward in the Sister's hospital.
But alongside that picture was another, quite as vivid, of Luck Lindsay
standing beside Pete Lowry's camera with a script in his hand, explaining
to Jean Douglas the business of some particular scene.

"Well?" queried Dewitt, and motioned Luck to a chair.

"Well," Luck echoed, and stopped for a breath. "No use wasting time, Mr.
Dewitt. I can't take any position that doesn't include the Flying U boys.
I'm certainly sorry that prevents my accepting your offer. I appreciate
all it would mean for me and for my Big Picture to be with you. But--some
things mean more--"

"You're under no obligations to tie your own hands just because theirs
are not free," Dewitt reminded him sharply.

"I know I'm not."

"Can you figure where it will be to their advantage for you to refuse a
good position just because they happen to be out of work?"

"I'm not trying to figure anything like that. Some things don't have to
be figured. Some things just are! Do you see what I mean? Those boys
didn't wait to do any figuring. When I quit the Acme, they quit--just as
a matter of course. If I were as loyal to them as they have been to me,
Mr. Dewitt, I wouldn't have taken two days to give you my answer. I'd