“They may bother you a little at first,” said Baird, “but you’ll get used to them, and they’re worth a little trouble because they’ll stand out.” The first effort to walk in them proved bothersome indeed, for it was made over ground covered with a low-growing vine and the spurs caught in this. Baird was very earnest in supervising this progress, and even demanded the presence of two cameras to record it. “Of course I’m not using this stuff,” he said, “but I want to make a careful study of it. These are genuine hidalgo spurs. Mighty few men in this line of parts could get away with them. I bet Benson himself would have a lot of trouble. Now, try it once more.” Merton tried once more, stumbling as the spurs caught in the undergrowth. The cameras closely recorded his efforts, and Baird applauded them. “You’re getting it--keep on. That’s better. Now try to run a few steps--go right toward that left-hand camera.” He ran the few steps, but fell headlong. He picked himself up, an expression of chagrin on his face. “Never mind,” urged Baird. “Try it again. We must get this right.” He tried again to run; was again thrown. But he was determined to please the manager, and he earnestly continued his efforts. Benson himself would see the picture and probably marvel that a new man should have mastered, apparently with ease, a pair of genuine hidalgos. “Maybe we better try smoother ground,” Baird at last suggested after repeated falls had shown that the undergrowth was difficult. So the cameras were moved on to the front of a ranche house now in use for the drama, and the spur lessons continued. But on smooth ground it appeared that the spurs were still troublesome. After the first mishap here Merton discovered the cause. The long shanks were curved inward so that in walking their ends clashed. He pointed this out to Baird, who was amazed at the discovery. “Well, well, that’s so! They’re bound to interfere. I never knew that about hidalgo spurs before.” “We might straighten them,” suggested the actor. “No, no,” Baird insisted, “I wouldn’t dare try that. They cost too much money, and it might break ‘em. I tell you what you do, stand up and try this: just toe in a little when you walk--that’ll bring the points apart. There--that’s it; that’s fine.” The cameras were again recording so that Baird could later make his study of the difficulties to be mastered by the wearer of genuine hidalgos. By toeing in Merton now succeeded in walking without disaster, though he could not feel that he was taking the free stride of men out there in the open spaces. “Now try running.” directed Baird, and he tried running; but again the spurs caught and he was thrown full in the eyes of the grinding camera. He had forgotten to toe in. But he would not give up. His face was set in Buck Benson grimness. Each time he picked himself up and earnestly resumed the effort. The rowels were now catching in the long hair of his chaps.