“Yes, but didn’t you hear him say we’d appear in that last scene?” disputed the eager Billy, loth to give up his ambitious plan to have a leading place in the exposition showing how this famous group of motion-picture players did their perilous work.

“Sure he did,” retorted the other, with a shrug of his shoulders as if he pitied Billy’s ignorance, “but then you must remember that was intended to show the players resting up between acts, and not at their work.  There’s a whole lot of difference between the two jobs, let me tell you.”

Billy made no reply, but it could be seen that he looked greatly disappointed as he watched the myriad of actors begin to get in position for the opening of the next scene.  This might possibly represent the triumphant entry of the assailants into the castle of the enemy, which, in turn, would lead up to the rescue of the lovely heroine just when the villainous knight was about to hurl her into the blazing tower.

The chattering began to die away as the harsh voice of the stage director was heard through his megaphone, giving directions as to how this or that group should carry out their parts.  Hugh wondered how many turns it would take before that exacting manager felt like calling it a satisfactory picture.  Perhaps they might be forced to repeat the scene many times, simply because some clumsy fellow did something to injure its value.

Alec was busily manipulating his camera, and Hugh chuckled when he found that the other was taking in the entire scene, showing the operator with his instrument, as well as the scouts gathered near by.  Billy, too, had made the same discovery, for he was smiling as sweetly as he knew how, and had again assumed that martial attitude which he seemed to consider made him such a striking figure.

Evidently this little expedition was bound to be fruitful with results, and on their return home those who were along would have something to show for their labors.  Even if that eccentric relative of Alec’s lost the chance to obtain a quiet retreat “far from the madding crowd,” as Billy had once described it, their week-end outing promised to be well worth the effort it cost them individually and collectively.

They watched everything that was being done.  It was astonishing to see what an amount of stuff the players had fetched along from the city, in order to carry out the battle scene true to the original, as they understood it.  Why, even the rude bridge that had been thrown across the moat had been fashioned beforehand, and was carried with them in sections, like one of those ready-built houses Hugh remembered seeing advertised, that “any boy could put together.”

The stage director was fuming, and saying a lot of hard things, as though some of the stupid acts of the army of supers nearly drove him distracted.  By degrees he managed to whip his forces into the shape he wanted before he gave the warning signal that the fun was about to commence.