"That is so. He may not be there now. But--"

"But me no buts, unless you mean to go on," said Helen, as Ruth hesitated again.

"It does seem queer," said Ruth thoughtfully. "Other people go there besides the King of the Pipes."

"Indeed! We all went there when that allegory was staged."

"And since then," said Ruth, and proceeded to tell the two girls what she and Chess Copley had seen early one morning.

"Men landing boxes on the island?" cried Helen, while Wonota merely looked puzzled. "There is a camp there, like enough. And those men--and the woman--in the launch might have come from there, of course. When Willie comes back for us, let's sail around the island and see if we can spy where their tent is set up. For of course there is no house there?"

"Tom and I found no habitation when we went to search for the old man,"

admitted Ruth.

"All right. It must be a tent, then," said her chum with conviction.

"We'll see."

But as it turned out, they made no such search that day. Indeed, Willie and the _Gem_ did not return for them. The camp launch was not the first craft that appeared. Ruth was again coaching Wonota after lunch when Helen spied something on the water that caused her to cry out, drawing the other girls' attention.

"Who under the sun is this coming in the canoe?" Helen demanded. "Why! he is making it fairly fly. I never!"

Wonota scarcely glanced in the direction of the distant moving picture camp, and she said composedly:

"It is Chief Totantora. He comes for me."

The Indian in the canoe caused the craft to tear through the water. No such paddling had the two white girls ever seen before. Not a motion was lost on the part of Chief Totantora. Every stroke of his paddle drove the craft on with a speed to make anybody marvel.

"Something has happened!" gasped Ruth, standing up.

"He comes for me," repeated Wonota, still calmly.

"What for?" queried Helen, quite as much disturbed now as her chum.

Before the Indian girl could have answered--had she intended to explain--the canoe came close in to the bank of the island, was swerved dexterously, and Totantora leaped ash.o.r.e--a feat not at all easy to perform without overturning the canoe. It scarcely rocked.

He stooped and held it from sc.r.a.ping against the rock, and shot up at his daughter several brief sentences in their own tongue. He paid no attention to Ruth, even, although she stepped forward and asked what his errand was.

"I must go, Miss Ruth," said Wonota quickly. "Mr. Hammond has sent him.

It was arranged before."

"What was arranged?" demanded Ruth, with some sharpness.

"We are going yonder," she pointed to the hazy sh.o.r.e of Grenadier Island that was in view from where they stood. "It is said by Mr. Hammond that yonder the man with the little green eyes--the fat man--cannot have us taken."

"For goodness' sake!" gasped Helen, "she's talking of that Bilby, isn't she?"

"What does it mean? Has Bilby come again?" cried Ruth, speaking directly to Totantora.

"We go," said the chief. "Hammond, he say so. Now. They come for me and for Wonota with talking papers from the white man's court."

"Then Mr. Hammond's lawyer could not do all Mr. Hammond expected," sighed Ruth. "The picture will be ruined."

"I never heard of such a thing," cried Helen angrily. "I'd like to know what sort of courts and judges they have up here in these woods?"

But Ruth wanted to know more. She held Wonota back as she would have stepped into the canoe.

"Wait," she urged. "Tell me more, Totantora. Where are you taking Wonota?"

It was the Indian girl who answered.

"Over on that sh.o.r.e," said she, pointing again to the Canadian island, "these courts cannot touch us. Mr. Hammond told my father so. We go there to wait until the trouble is over. Mr. Hammond spoke of it before.

Totantora is informed."

"But it means delay and expense," cried Ruth.

"How mean!" exploded Helen. "I'd like to do something to that Bilby."

"Have you money--plenty of money?" Ruth demanded of the Indian.

"I have money," said Wonota, touching the bosom of her blouse. "We do not need much. We shall live quietly there until Mr. Hammond sends for us. We will be faithful to you, Miss Ruth."

She turned, with more impulsiveness than she usually showed, and kissed the white girl's cheek.

"You are so good to me!" she cried. "I will not forget all you have taught me. And I will rehea.r.s.e every day so to be perfect when Mr. Hooley wants me again."

There was no way to stop her. Indeed, as Mr. Hammond had advised this sudden move, Ruth knew she had no right to interfere. It was evident that an emergency had arisen of which she, herself, knew nothing. In some way the enemy had forced Mr. Hammond's hand. Totantora and his daughter were in danger of being brought into court after all, and Mr. Hammond did not wish that to come about.

The Indian girl stepped lightly into the canoe and picked up the extra paddle. Her father leaped in after her, pushed the light craft away from the rock, and seized his own paddle. In another moment the canoe shot away from the island and off toward the broad expanse of the open St.

Lawrence.

Helen and Ruth stared after them--then at each other. Naturally it was Helen who first regained her voice and gave expression to her amazement.

"What do you know about that?" she demanded.

"I--I don't know what to say," murmured Ruth.

"Oh! I know what to say, all right," said the disgusted Helen. "It's no joke."

Ruth herself admitted it was nothing to laugh about. She saw difficulties in the way of the completion of "The Long Lane's Turning" of which Helen knew but little--or of which she did not think.

Ruth knew that there were scenes--some of them she had been studying with Wonota this day--that could not be changed nor eliminated. Wonota must be in them. No "double" could be used.

In the first place, the Indian girl's personality was distinct. It could not easily be matched.

Ruth knew that, even at that time, one of the most popular screen actresses, because of her inability longer to look the child, was using a double for all her "close-ups" when she was forced to play those childish parts that a hungry public of "movie fans" demanded.

Nothing like this would save "The Long Lane's Turning." The throne room scene in Paris, which was yet to be photographed, was too delicate a matter to put in the hands of any double. Wonota was herself--even in this picture she was a distinct personality--and she must be shown to the very end of the last reel and the last "fade-out."

The thoughts caused Ruth to feel very, very sober. Helen looked at her with some appreciation of her chum's despair; yet she could not appreciate the situation in full.