“As she leaves the office there is a cry of terror from the factory and the working people come rushing out of the now tottering building.  That was when you two young ladies came walking up the street and were dragged out of danger by the foreman of the shop—­in other words, by myself.  The owner’s daughter, bewildered by the confusion, hesitates what to do or which way to turn, and as she stands upon the sidewalk she is crushed by the falling wall, together with several of her father’s employees.”

“How dreadful!” exclaimed Patsy.

“Of course no one was actually hurt,” he hastened to say; “for we used dummy figures for the wall to fall upon.  In the final scene the bereaved father suddenly realizes that he has been working and accumulating only for this beloved child—­the child whose life he has sacrificed by his miserly refusal to protect his workmen.  His grief is so intense that no one who follows the story of this picture will ever hesitate to repair a building promptly, if he learns it is unsafe.  Do you now understand the lesson taught, young ladies?”

Mr. Werner’s dramatic recital had strongly impressed the two girls, while Uncle John was visibly affected.

“I’m very glad,” said the little man fervently, “that none of my money is in factories or other buildings that might prove unsafe.  It would make my life miserable if I thought I was in any way responsible for such a catastrophe as you have pictured.”

“It seems to me,” observed Patsy, “that your story is unnecessarily cruel, Mr. Werner.”

“Then you do not understand human nature,” he retorted; “or, at least, that phase of human nature I have aimed at.  Those indifferent rich men are very hard to move and you must figuratively hit them squarely between the eyes to make them even wink.”

They were silent for a time, considering this novel aspect of the picture business.  Then Beth asked: 

“Can you tell us, sir, when and where we shall be able to see this picture?”

“It will be released next Monday.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that we, as manufacturers, supply certain agencies in all the large cities, who in turn rent our films to the many picture theatres.  When a picture is ready, we send copies to all our agencies and set a day when they may release it, or give it to their customers to use.  In this way the picture will be shown in all parts of the United States on the same day—­in this case, next Monday.”

“Isn’t that very quick?”

“Yes.  The picture we took yesterday will to-night be shipped, all complete and ready to run, to forty-four different centers.”

“And will any picture theatre in Hollywood or Los Angeles show it?”

“Certainly.  It will be at the Globe Theatre in Los Angeles and at the Isis Theatre in Hollywood, for the entire week.”

“We shall certainly see it,” announced Uncle John.