pictures of Thomas Meighan and Mary Pickford on the handles.’

She smiled. ‘We’ll play the phonograph. We’ll play the record “The Three Trees, There, There, and–There!”’
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We have to go!’

The six men spied the man and woman on the dim front porch, shouted, and ran forward.
‘Hurry!’ screamed the woman. ‘Get inside, call Mother and Sister, oh, hurry, here theycome!’

He flung the front door wide.
She rushed in after him, slammed the door, and turned.

There was nothing behind the front wall of the house except strutworks, canvas, boards, a small meadow, and a creek. A few arc-lights stood to each side. Stenciled on one papier-mâché inner wall was STUDIO #12.

Footsteps thundered on the front porch.

The door banged open. The men piled in.

‘Oh!’ the woman screamed. ‘Theleastyou could do isknock!’

The End