"Your tense is bad, little lady," said Helen. "Cæsar, according to the
books, has been dead some years now. Right-o?"

The girls sped away from the old mill, and in a little while Ruth was
shut into a telephone booth talking with Mr. Hammond in a distant city.
She told him a good deal more than she had the girls. It was his due.
Besides, she had already got the skeleton of a story in her mind and she
repeated the important points of this to the picture producer.

"Sounds good, Miss Ruth," he declared. "But it all depends upon the
girl. If you think she has the looks, is amenable to discipline, and has
some natural ability, we might safely go ahead with it, I will get into
communication by telegraph with the Department of Indian Affairs at
Washington and with the agent at Three Rivers Station, Oklahoma, as
well. We can afford to invest some money in the chance that this Wonota
is a find."

"Fifty-fifty, Mr. Hammond," Ruth told him. "On whatever it costs,
remember, I am just as good a sport as you are when it comes to taking a
chance in business."

He laughed. "I have often doubted your blood relationship to Uncle
Jabez," Mr. Hammond declared "He has no gambler's blood in his old
veins."

"He was born too long before the moving picture came into existence,"
she laughingly returned. "Now I mean to see Wonota again and try to
encourage her to throw in her fortunes with us. At least, I hope to get
her away from that disgusting Dakota Joe."