CHAPTER XII

THE DANCE AT ALEXANDRIA BAY

"You might have been mistaken, I suppose, Miss Ruth?" suggested Mr.

Hammond, the president of the film corporation, sitting at his desk in the room of the main bungalow which he used as an office. "It was growing dark when that speed boat pa.s.sed you and your friend, was it not?"

"Not out on the river, Mr. Hammond. It was light enough for us to see the men in that boat plainly. Just as sure as one of them was a Chinaman, the short, fat man was Horatio Bilby."

"It doesn't seem possible that the fellow would chase away up here after us when he so signally failed down below. My lawyer tells me that he had no real authority from the Bureau of Indian Affairs to secure Wonota's services, after all."

"He is a man who would not need much authority to attempt any mean thing," said the girl hotly.

"That may be true," admitted Mr. Hammond. "But it seems quite too sensational." He smiled, adding: "Quite too much like a movie plot, eh?"

"You say yourself that he has obtained the production rights to those 'Running Deer' stories that have appeared in the _Gotham Magazine_," said Ruth, with earnestness. "They are good stories, Mr. Hammond. I have read them."

"Yes. I believe they are pretty good material for pictures. That is, if they were handled by a practical scenario writer like yourself."

"It is too bad you did not get them."

"Well, Bilby was ahead of us there. Somehow, he got backing and bought the picture and dramatic rights to the tales outright. He can find somebody besides Wonota to play _Running Deer_."

"He seems to have set his heart on our Wonota."

"Yes. He did make Totantora a whacking good offer. I must admit he did. I could not begin to see such a price for the girl's services. And on a mere speculation. But I pointed out to Totantora that, after all, a promise is only a promise. He and Wonota have already had considerable hard cash from us," and Mr. Hammond ended with a laugh.

He was evidently not so much impressed by the possible danger of Bilby's presence in the Thousand Islands as Ruth could have wished. She determined herself, however, to be sharply on the watch for the reappearance of the coa.r.s.e little fat man who had so troubled her and the Indians at the Red Mill.

She took Totantora into her confidence, after speaking to Mr. Hammond, although she did not say a word to Wonota. Despite the natural stoicism of the Osage maiden, Ruth did not know but that Wonota might become nervous if she knew the plotting Bilby was near at hand.

The chief listened to Ruth's warning with a certain savage anger in his look that warned Ruth not to push the suggestion of Bilby's determination to obtain possession of Wonota too far. The chief was not a patient man, and the possible threat against the safety of his daughter roused in him the instinct of defence.

"Me watch," he said. "That fat man come here, me chase him away. Yes!"

"Don't do him any harm, Totantora," warned Ruth. "But tell Mr. Hammond or me if you see him."

n.o.body saw Bilby immediately, however; and as several days pa.s.sed Ruth began to wonder if, after all, she had not been mistaken in her identification of the fat man in the boat.

Meanwhile, the making of the picture went on steadily; but something else--and something Helen Cameron at least considered of moment--was planned during this time.

Many other summer residents of the Thousand Islands besides the Copleys had now arrived, and the gaiety of the season was at its height. There was one very large hotel at Alexandria Bay, and it was planned to use its ballroom for a "big war dance," to quote Helen. It was to be a costume dance, and everybody that appeared on the floor must be dressed in Indian costume.

Wonota helped the chums and the actresses with the Alectrion Film Corporation who attended, in the getting up of their costumes and the staining of their faces and arms. The Osage girl herself wore a beautiful beaded robe, feather-trimmed and brilliantly dyed. It was her "coronation robe" in the picture she was helping to film. But Mr. Hammond, who likewise attended the dance, allowed the girl to wear this finery, which really was part of the "props" of the company.

Launches were engaged from Chippewa Bay to take most of those from the camp who attended the dance, either as partic.i.p.ants in the costume review or as spectators, but Chess Copley arranged to come for his particular friends in the _Lauriette_.

Helen was tempted to refuse to go in the Copley launch; but when she saw Jean and Sara Copley beside their brother, she went aboard with Ruth and Tom. There actually was no friction between the two young men, although Tom usually addressed Chess by that opprobrious nickname, 'La.s.ses, while Chess retorted by scoffing at all the ex-captain's opinions and advice on any and all subjects.

Really, had she not felt that she was partly the cause of this mild strife, Ruth would have laughed at the two. They were, after all, but grown-up boys.

It was a gay party aboard the _Lauriette_, nevertheless. Even Wonota (whom Ruth was keeping with her) was gay. And she was so pretty in her beautiful costume that when they arrived at the hotel the young men at the dance vied in their attempts to have her for a partner on the floor.

There was a fine band and the dancing floor was smooth. Even Mr. Hammond went on to the floor, having secured a costume, and Mother Paisley, who acted as chaperon for the moving picture girls, was as light as anybody on her feet and the embodiment of grace.

"Actor folk nowadays," the old woman told Ruth once, "are not trained as they once were. I came of circus folk. My people had been circus performers in the old country for generations before my father and mother came over here. My husband was a trapeze performer.

"And working on the bars makes one supple and limber beyond any other form of exercise. Afterward, while still a young girl, I was in the ballet. At least, when one has had my training, one brings to the speaking stage a grace and carriage that can scarcely be secured in any other way.

"As for this moving picture business," she sighed, "I see these poor girls as awkward as heifers--and they are really learning very little.

They depend upon the director to tell them how a lady should enter a room, and how to walk. But often the director has never seen a real lady enter a room! Directors of moving pictures are not masters of deportment as our old dancing masters were."

Ruth always listened to strictures upon the moving picture art and gained what she could from such criticism. And the harshest critics the motion pictures have are the people who work in them. But, after all, Ruth had a vision.

She felt that in spite of all the "great," "grand," "magnificent,"

"enormous" pictures already advertised upon the billboards, the public was still waiting for a really well made and properly written and acted series of pictures that claimed neither more sensationalism than they possessed, nor were hastily and carelessly made.

Ruth liked to work with Mr. Hammond, and he had been very kind and considerate of her. But she felt that, untrammeled, she would be able to make better pictures than she had made with him. She wanted a free hand, and she felt the insistence of the treasurer's office at her elbow. Money could be lavished upon anything spectacular--for instance, like this French-Indian picture they were making. But much had to be "speeded up"

to save money in other phases of production.

Mr. Hammond, like most of the other moving picture producers, thought only of the audience coming out of the theater with "ohs!" and "ahs!"

upon their lips regarding the spectacular features in the film shown.

Ruth wanted to go deeper--wanted to make the impression upon the minds and intelligence of the audiences. She felt that the pictures could be something bigger than mere display.

But this is all aside from the fun they had at the costume dance. Ruth and Helen both danced with Mr. Hammond and Mr. Grand and with several others of the moving picture people, as well as with their own friends.

Chess got the second dance with Ruth; and then he had the third; and then got the sixth. He might have gone on all the evening coming back to her and begging the favor had Ruth not insisted upon his devoting himself to some of his sisters' friends.

But, at the same time, Ruth was somewhat piqued because Tom Cameron did not come near her all the first part of the evening. She could not understand what the matter really was with him--why he acted in so offish a manner.

After that sixth dance (and Ruth had danced them all with one partner or another) she sent Chess away from her definitely. She went in search of Tom. The orchestra began playing for the next dance. Ruth looked keenly about the brilliant a.s.sembly. She knew Tom's costume--it was distinctive and could not be mistaken. But she could not mark it at all in the throng.

Two or three men asked her to dance, but she pleaded fatigue and continued to walk about the edge of the ballroom. Finally, in an alcove, sitting at an empty table, and with no companion, she spied the recreant Tom.

"Why, Tom!" she cried cheerfully, "are you sitting out this dance too?

And the music is so pretty."

"The music is all right," he agreed.

"Don't you want to dance?"

"No. I do not want to dance," he answered sourly.

"Not--not even with me, Tom?" she ventured, smiling rather wistfully at his averted face.

"With n.o.body. I am waiting for Helen and the rest of you to get enough of this foolishness and go home."

"Why, Tom! You--you are not ill?" she ventured, putting out a hand to touch his shoulder yet not touching it.