"That's the easiest thing in the world to do--_wait_," gibed Ruth.

"No, it isn't, either. It's the hardest thing to do," declared Jennie,
and Ruth thought she could detect a shade of sadness in the light tone
the plump girl adopted. "And especially when--as Nell predicts--we are
waiting for some awful disaster. Huh--" and the girl shuddered as
realistically as perfect health and unshaken nerves and good nature
would permit--"are we to pass our lives under the shadow of impending
peril?"

It did seem, however, as though Helen had come under the mantle of some
seeress of old. Jennie flatly declared that "Nell must be a descendant
of the Witch of Endor."

The company managed to make several scenes that day without further
disaster. Although in taking a close-up of the charging Indian chief
one of the camera men was knocked down by the rearing pony the chief
rode, and a perfectly good two hundred dollar camera was smashed beyond
hope of repair.

"It's begun," said Helen, ruefully. "You see!"

"If you have brought a hoodoo into this outfit, woe be it to you!" cried
Ruth.

"It is not me," proclaimed her chum. "But I tell you _something_ is
going to happen."

They worked so late that it was night before the company took the trail