Janet Hardy in Hollywood

Under the warning muzzle of the gun, the autogiro settled toward the floor of the valley and in less than three minutes the other planes were down around it while cars raced toward them, clouds of desert dust rising in their wake.

Bertie Jackson was in the first car and when she saw Janet her face blanched. Helen and her father were in the same machine.

“Are you all right?” asked Helen anxiously, for Janet was white-faced and deep hollows of fatigue were under her eyes.

“A little tired,” confessed Janet. “What happened? Was this something in the plot I wasn’t supposed to know about?”

“Tell us where you’ve been and why?” said Henry Thorne, and Janet briefly related the events. She didn’t like to do it, but there was nothing else she could do under the circumstances and her story implicated Bertie Jackson.

“She’s jealous, that’s all,” snapped Bertie. “The whole story is trumped up.”

Then Curt Newsom took a hand.

“Let’s look at this thing squarely. How much were you and these two flyers paid to slow up production on ‘Kings of the Air’?” He shot the question at Bertie.

“You’re impertinent,” she blazed.

“Sure, but you’re likely to go to prison. Setting fire to buildings is arson, you know.” There was no humor in his words and Bertie looked from one to another in the group around her. Each stared at her with scornful eyes.

Defiant to the end, she flung her head back, “Well, what of it?” she demanded.

“Only this. You’ll never work in another picture for anybody.” It was Henry Thorne speaking, quietly and firmly, and Bertie turned away.

The two flyers, the one who had abducted Janet and the one who had bombed the set, talked. Janet didn’t hear the whole story, but she and Helen learned enough to know that another rival company was implicated. It was Bertie who had set fire to the dry old houses in Sagebrush and who had supplied the flyers with information on the plans of the company.

When they finally returned to what little was left of the village, Henry Thorne spoke quietly to the girls.

“Don’t worry now,” he assured Helen. “There’ll be no more delays. We can erect another set on the desert without too much loss of time and we’ll have to live in tents, but that is endurable.”

Turning to Janet, he surprised her.

“Janet, I’m going to put you in Bertie’s rôle. We’ll shoot the scene in the field restaurant over again when we get back to Hollywood, but I need someone right now to step into Bertie’s place and you can handle the part. What do you say?”

“I’ll do my best,” promised Janet.

“I know you will.” Then Henry Thorne hurried away to attend to one of the hundred details that are the worry of a successful director and Janet and Helen faced each other.

“It looks like ‘Kings of the Air’ is going on to a successful conclusion now,” said Janet. “I’m so happy.”

“And I’m happy that you are getting Bertie’s part. Do you suppose we’re going to be able to keep on in the movies?”

“That,” smiled Janet, “is something I couldn’t even guess. If we don’t we’ll go home this fall with the memories of the most thrilling summer any two girls could have had.”

They turned to rejoin the rest of the company, unaware of the further adventures in Hollywood and in New York which were to befall them before winter came.