lively　with　the　passing　of　many　people。　He　drew　a　long　breath　and　became　calculating。　He　must　see　everything　and　see　it　methodically。　He　even　went　now　along　the　asphalt　walk　to　the　corner　of　the　office　building　from　which　he　had　issued　for　the　privilege　of　looking　back　at　the　gate　through　which　he　had　so　often　yearningly　stared　from　across　the　street。
  Now　he　was　securely　inside　looking　out。　The　watchman　sat　at　the　gate；　bent　low　over　his　paper。　There　was；　it　seemed；　more　than　one　way　to　get　by　him。　People　might　have　headaches　almost　any　time。　He　wondered　if　his　friend　the　casting　director　were　subject　to　them。　He　must　carry　a　box　of　the　Eezo　wafers。
  He　strolled　down　the　street　between　the　rows　of　offices　and　the　immense　covered　stages。　Actors　in　costume　entered　two　of　these　and　through　their　open　doors　he　could　see　into　their　shadowy　interiors。　He　would　venture　there　later。　Just　now　he　wished　to　see　the　outside　of　things。　He　contrived　a　pace　not　too　swift　but　business…like　enough　to　convey　the　impression　that　he　was　rightfully　walking　this　forbidden　street。　He　seemed　to　be　going　some　place　where　it　was　of　the　utmost　importance　that　he　should　be；　and　yet　to　have　started　so　early　that　there　was　no　need　for　haste。
  He　sounded　the　far　end　of　that　long　street　visible　from　outside　the　gate；　discovering　its　excitements　to　wane　gently　into　mere　blacksmith　and　carpenter　shops。　He　retraced　his　steps；　this　time　ignoring　the　long　row　of　offices　for　the　opposite　line　of　stages。　From　one　dark　interior　came　the　slow；　dulled　strains　of　an　orchestra　and　from　another　shots　rang　out。　He　met　or　passed　strangely　attired　people；　bandits；　priests；　choir　boys；　gentlemen　in　evening　dress　with　blue…black　eyebrows　and　careful　hair。　And　he　observed　many　beautiful　young　women；　variously　attired；　hurrying　to　or　from　the　stages。　One　lovely　thing　was　in　bridal　dress　of　dazzling　white；　a　veil　of　lace　floating　from　her　blonde　head；　her　long　train　held　up　by　a　coloured　maid。　She　chatted　amiably；　as　she　crossed　the　street；　with　an　evil…looking　Mexican　in　a　silver…corded　hata　veritable　Snake　de　Vasquez。
  But　the　stages　could　wait。　He　must　see　more　streets。　Again　reaching　the　office　that　had　been　his　secret　gateway　to　these　delights；　he　turned　to　the　right；　still　with　the　air　of　having　business　at　a　certain　spot　to　which　there　was　really　no　need　for　him　to　hurry。　There　were　fewer　people　this　way；　and　presently；　as　if　by　magic　carpet；　he　had　left　all　that　sunlight　and　glitter　and　cheerful　noise　and　stood　alone　in　the　shadowy；　narrow　street　of　a　frontier　town。　There　was　no　bustle　here；　only　an　intense　stillness。　The　street　was　deserted；　the　shop　doors　closed。　There　was　a　ghostlike；　chilling　effect　that　left　him　uneasy。　He　called　upon　himself　to　remember　that　he　was　not　actually　in　a　remote　and　desolate　frontier　town　from　which　the　inhabitants　had　fled；　that　back　of　him　but　a　few　steps　was　abounding　life；　that　outside　was　the　prosaic　world　passing　and　repassing　a　gate　hard　to　enter。　He　whistled　the　fragment　of　a　tune　and　went　farther　along　this　street　of　uncanny　silence　and　vacancy；　noting；　as　he　went；　the　signs　on　the　shop　windows。　There　was　the　Busy　Bee　Restaurant；　Jim's　Place；　the　Hotel　Renown；　the　Last　Dollar　Dance　Hall；　Hank's　Pool　Room。　Upon　one　window　was　painted　the　terse　announcement；　〃JoeBuy　or　Sell。〃　The　Happy　Days　Bar　adjoined　the　General　Store。
  He　moved　rapidly　through　this　street。　It　was　no　place　to　linger。　At　the　lower　end　it　gave　insanely　upon　a　row　of　three…story　brownstone　houses　which　any　picture　patron　would　recognize　as　being　wholly　of　New　York。　There　were　the　imposing　steps；　the　double…doored　entrances；　the　broad　windows；　the　massive　lines　of　the　whole。　And　beyond　this　he　came　to　a　many…coloured　little　street　out　of　Bagdad；　overhung　with　gay　balconies；　vivacious　with　spindled　towers　and　minarets；　and　small　reticent　windows；　out　of　which　veiled　ladies　would　glance。　And　all　was　still　with　the　stillness　of　utter　desertion。
  Then　he　explored　farther　and　felt　curiously　disappointed　at　finding　that　these　structures　were　to　real　houses　what　a　dicky　is　to　a　sincere；　genuine　shirt。　They　were　pretentiously　false。
  One　had　but　to　step　behind　them　to　discover　them　as　poor　shells。
  Their　backs　were　jutting　beams　carried　but　little　beyond　the　fronts　and　their　stout…appearing　walls　were　revealed　to　be　fragile　contrivances　of　button…lath　and　thin　plaster。　The　ghost　quality　departed　from　them　with　this　discovery。
  He　left　these　cities　of　silence　and　came　upon　an　open　space　and　people。　They　were　grouped　before　a　railway　station；　a　small　red　structure　beside　a　line　of　railway　track。　At　one　end　in　black　letters；　on　a　narrow　white　board；　was　the　name　Boomerville。
  The　people　were　plainly　Western：　a　dozen　cowboys；　a　sprinkling　of　bluff　ranchers　and　their　families。　An　absorbed　young　man　in　cap　and　khaki　and　puttees　came　from　a　distant　group　surrounding　a　camera　and　readjusted　the　line　of　these　people。　He　placed　them　to　his　liking。　A　wagon　drawn　by　two　horses　was　driven　up　and　a　rancher　helped　a　woman　and　girl　to　alight。　The　girl　was　at　once　sought　out　by　the　cowboys。　They　shook　hands　warmly　under　megaphoned　directions　from　a　man　back　by　the　camera。　The　rancher　and　his　wife　mingled　with　the　group。　The　girl　was　drawn　aside　by　one　of　the　cowboys。　He　had　a　nobler　presence　than　the　others；　he　was　handsome　and　his　accoutrements　seemed　more　expensive。　They　looked　into　each　other's　eyes　a　long　time；　apparently　pledging　an　eternal　fidelity。　One　gathered　that　there　would　have　been　an　embrace　but　for　the　cowboy's　watchful　companions。　They　must　say　good…by　with　a　mere　handshake；　though　this　was　a　slow；　trembling；　long…drawn　clasp　while　they　steadily　regarded　each　other；　and　a　second　camera　was　brought　to　record　it　at　a　distance　of　six　feet。　Merton　Gill　thrilled　with　the　knowledge　that　he　was　beholding　his　first　close…up。　His　long　study　of　the　photo…drama　enabled　him　to　divine　that　the　rancher's　daughter　was　going　to　Vassar　College　to　be　educated；　but　that；　although　returning　a　year　later　a　poised　woman　of　the　world；　she　would　still　long　for　the　handsome　cowboy　who　would　marry　her　and　run　the　Bar…X　ranch。　The　scene　was　done。　The　camera　would　next　be　turned　upon　a　real　train　at　some　real　station；　while　the　girl；　with　a　final　look　at　her　lover；　entered　a　real　car；　which　the　camera　would　show　moving　off　to　Vassar　College。　Thus　conveying　to　millions　of　delighted　spectators　the　impression　that　a　real　train　had　steamed　out　of　the　station；　which　was　merely　an　imitation　of　one；　on　the　Holden　lot。　The　watcher　passed　on。　He　could　hear　the　cheerful　drone　of　a　sawmill　where　logs　were　being　cut。　He　followed　the　sound　and　came　to　its　source。　The　saw　was　at　the　end　of　an　oblong　pool　in　which　logs　floated。　Workmen　were　poling　these　toward　the　saw。　On　a　raised　platform　at　one　side　was　a　camera　and　a　man　who　gave　directions　through　a　megaphone；　a　neighbouring　platform　held　a　second　camera。　A　beautiful　young　girl　in　a　print　dress　and　her　thick　hair　in　a　braid　came　bringing　Ms　dinner　in　a　tin　pail　to　the　handsomest　of　the　actors。　He　laid　down　his　pike…pole　and　took　both　the　girl's　hands　in　his　as　he　received　the　pail。　One　of　the　other　workmen；　a　hulking　brute　with　an　evil　face；　scowled　darkly　at　this　encounter　and　a　moment　later　had　insulted　the　beautiful　young　girl。　But　the　first　actor　felled　him　with　a　blow。　He　came　up　from　this；　crouchingly；　and　the　fight　was　on。　Merton　was　excited　by　this　fight；　even　though　he　was　in　no　doubt　as　to　which　actor　would　win　it。　They　fought　hard；　and　for　a　time　it　appeared　that　the　handsome　actor　must　lose；　for　the　bully　who　had　insulted　the　girl　was　a　man　of　great　strength；　but　the　science　of　the　other　told。　It　was　the　first　fight　Merton　had　ever　witnessed。　He　thought　these　men　must　really　be　hating　each　other；　so　bitter　were　their　expressions。　The　battle　grew　fiercer。　It　was　splendid。　Then；　at　the　shrill　note　of　a　whistle；　the　panting　combatants　fell　apart。
  〃Rotten！〃　said　an　annoyed　voice　through　the　megaphone。　〃Can't　you　boys　give　me　a　little　action？　Jazz　it；　jazz　it！　Think　it's　a　love　scene？　Go　to　it；　nowplenty　of　jazzunderstand　what　I　mean？〃　He　turned　to　the　camera　man　beside　him。　〃Ed；　you　turn　tenwe　got　to　get　some　speed　some　way。　Jack〃to　the　other　camera　man〃you　stay　on　twelve。　All　ready！　Get　some　life　into　it；　now；　and　Lafe〃this　to　the　handsome　actor〃don't　keep　trying　to　hold　your　front　to　the　machine。　We'll　get　you　all　right。　Ready；　now。　Camera！〃
  Again　the　fight　was　on。　It　went　to　a　bitter　finish　in　which　the　vanquished　bully　was　sent　with　a　powerful　blow　backward　into　the　water；　while　the　beautiful　young　girl　ran　to　the　victor　and　nestled　in　the　protection　of　his　strong　arms。
  Merton　Gill　passed　on。　This　was　the　real　thing。　He　would　have　a　lot　to　tell　Tessie　Kearns　in　his　next　letter。　Beyond　the　sawmill　he　came　to　an　immense　wooden　structure　like　a　cradle　on　huge　rockers　supported　by　scaffolding。　From　the　ground　he　could　make　nothing　of　it；　but　a　ladder　led　to　the　top。　An　hour　on　the　Holden　lot　had　made　him　bold。　He　mounted　the　ladder　and　stood　on　the　deck　of　what　he　saw　was　a　sea…going　yacht。　Three　important…looking　men　were　surveying　the　deckhouse　forward。　They　glanced　at　the　newcomer　but　with　a　cheering　absence　of　curiosity　or　even　of