CHAPTER VIII
THE HEAVY GETS HIS TIME
Threewit came to Steve while Cummings was preparing the stage set for adissolve.
"Wish you'd look over this scenario, Yeager. The old man sent it out tome to see if we can pull off the riding end of it. Scene twenty-seven isthe sticker. Here's the idea: You've been thrown from your horse andyour foot's caught in the stirrup. You draw your gat to shoot the bronchand it's bumped out of your hand as you're dragged over the roughground. See? You save your life by wriggling your foot out of your boot.Can it be done without taking too many chances?"
The rider considered. "I reckon it could if a fellow's boot was fixed sohe could slip his foot out at the right time. I'll take a whirl at it."
"There's another scene where you save Maisie by jumping from your horseto a wild steer that's pursuing her. You'll have to twist its head andthrow the brute after you straddle it."
"All right. When you want to pull it off?"
"We can do the stirrup one to-day, before you go--if you still want togo."
"Got an answer yet from Arixico?"
"Just got it. Mendoza's still alive, but mighty badly hurt. I've sentthe kid out to the animal farm. He'll lie low, and they won't find himthere."
"I'm still curious about that bunch of cattle we lost. If you can spareme I'll run down and see if old Pasquale hasn't got 'em. It ain't likelywe'll ever get hide or hair of 'em, but there's one thing I'd like tofind out."
"Still got that notion about Harrison?"
"Maybe I have. Maybe I haven't. Anyhow, folks that are blind can't see.I'll keep my notions in my own fool haid for a while."
"Harrison has some friends across the line. He's going to try and fix itfor the kid if they run him down."
"That's fine," commented Yeager dryly. "He sure must have influentialfriends."
"All ready, Mr. Threewit," called out Cummings.
The director lit a cigar and moved forward to the stage. "Lennox, you'retoo far up stage. Register fear, Daisy. That's the idea. Now, then, MissWinters. Keep your eyes on Daisy as you come into the room. No--no--no!That won't do at all."
Yeager left them to their rehearsal troubles and strolled back to hisboarding-house. He would not be needed till afternoon.
He spent a half-hour softening the leather of his right boot around theankle. A man cannot tumble from a running horse, let himself be draggedforty yards, and then slip his foot from the stirrup of a cowpony thathas become frightened without taking a big chance. But it was hisbusiness to take chances. He always had taken them. And he knew thatthey could be minimized by careful preparation, expertness, and coolskill of execution.
As it turned out, Yeager had to make his fall twice. The ground selectedfor the set was a bit of level space just at the foot of a hillside. Therider went down hard on his shoulder at exactly the spot selected, buthe had miscalculated slightly and the force of the fall dragged his footfrom the boot at once. His calculations worked better at the secondattempt. Hanging on by a toe-hold, he was dragged bumping over the roughground. His revolver came out on schedule time and flew into the air.When Farrar gave the word,--which was at the moment the galloping horsewas opposite the camera,--Steve worked his foot free, leaving the bootstill clinging to the stirrup.
Yeager got to his feet rather unsteadily. The fall had been an unusuallyhard one, and it had not helped any to be dragged at full speed over thebumpy ground. Maisie Winters ran forward and slipped an arm around hiswaist to support him.
"You dandy man! I never did see one so game as you, Steve."
The cowpuncher grinned. He liked Maisie Winters. There was about her aboyish, slangy camaraderie that made for popularity.
"Says the extra to the star, 'Much obliged, ma'am.'"
"You're no extra. In your own line you're as big a star as we've got. Iknow there isn't a rider in the country like you. You're a jim-dandy."
"He's quite a family pet," contributed Harrison sourly.
Farrar came forward from the camera, his eyes shining. "Some picture,I'll bet. Good boy! You pulled it fine, Steve. Didn't he, Threewit?"
The director nodded. He was wondering how much he would have to raisethis young man's salary to hold him from rival companies.
"Sho! I just fell out of the saddle, Frank. Most any one can fall off ahorse."
Harrison laughed spitefully. "I saw him do a better fall than thatoncet."
Farrar was on the spot. "I saw you do a mighty good one the same day."
"Don't get fresh, young fella, or you'll do more than see one," snarledthe heavy.
"Want to beat me up, Chad?" asked Farrar with innocent impudence. "Iweigh one hundred and thirty-one pounds when I'm hog fat. How much doyou weigh?"
"Cut it out, Frank," ordered Threewit. "I've had about enough of thisjangling. If it isn't stopped, some one's going to lose a job. We'rehere to take pictures. Any one who's got any other idea had better callat the office for his time."
"Meaning me, Mr. Director?" demanded Harrison menacingly.
"Meaning you or anybody else that won't keep the rules I set for thecompany I run," retorted the director sharply.
"Forget it, Threewit. I'm no kid. Nobody runs me with rules. I do as Iplease."
"You'll not make trouble in my company."
"You ain't any little tin god on wheels. Don't run away with that ideein your bean. I haven't seen any man yet that can lay onto me withoutgetting his hair curled for him. Me, I play my own hand, by God; and Idon't care whether it's against Mr. Yeager or Mr. Farrar--or Mr.Threewit. See?"
"Your pay is waiting for you, Harrison."
"What? How's that?" he snarled.
"You're discharged--no longer working for the Lunar Company."
Harrison's face became an apoplectic purple. He stood with clenchedfists glaring at the director, ready to explode with rage. It was a partof his vanity that he had not supposed for an instant that Threewitwould let him go.
But it happened that the director had a temper of his own. He had chafedlong enough under the domineering ways of the ex-prizefighter. Moreover,Harrison was no longer so essential to the company. Yeager was a farbetter rider and could register more effectively the feats ofhorsemanship that were a feature of the Lunar films. Billie Threewit hadknown for some time that this man was an element of disorganization inthe company. Therefore he was letting him go.
Steve stood quietly in the background, one arm thrown carelessly acrossthe neck of his pony. But his gaze did not lift from the heavy, whostood glaring at the director, his fingers working and head thrust lowon the deep chest so that the gorilla hunch was emphasized. The man'sblack eyes snapped with a blazing fire that seemed ready to leap like acrouched tiger.
"Through with me, are you? Going to use that grand-stander Yeagerinstead, I reckon. That's the game, is it?"
"I'm not discussing my plans with you."
"Ain't you? Well, I'll discuss mine to this extent. I'll make you sickof this day's work all right before I'm through with you. Get that?Plumb sick." His eyes traveled around the half-circle till they metthose of Yeager. "You'll get yours too, my friend. Believe _me_. Get ita-plenty. You're going to sweat blood when I git you hog-tied."
He turned away, flung himself on his horse, and dug the rowels into thesides of the animal savagely.
Farrar laughed nervously. "Exit Mr. Chad Harrison, some annoyed."
Steve looked gravely at his employer. "Sorry you tied that can on him,Mr. Threewit. He's not just the man I'd choose for an enemy if I waspicking one."
"Had to do it sometime. The sooner the quicker. Anyhow, he hasn't got itin for me as much as he has for you."
Yeager shrugged. "Oh, me. That's different. 'Course he hates methorough, but I'm sorry you got mixed in it."
"What difference does it make? He can't hurt me any." The directorclapped his hands briskly. "All over at the willows for the kid-findingscene. Got your location picked, Farrar?"