"Oh, lots of women have gone in," protested Pen. "Please, Jim! Sara was so ugly this evening I just walked out and left him alone and I'm crazy to see what goes on down here." Jim glanced in at the open door. The hall was nearly full. "If anything goes wrong, Penny, I would have my hands full and you might be hurt." Pen gave a little shiver of anticipation. "Oh, please let me stay, Still! Just think how shut in I've been all these years." Even though his common sense protested, Jim was an easy victim to Pen's pleading eyes and voice. He led the way into the hall. It was an enthusiastic crowd, that crunched peanuts and pinons and commented audibly on the pictures. Pictures of city life were the most popular. "God! That's Fulton street, Brooklyn!" cried a man's voice as a street scene glided across the screen. "Wish I'd never left it." "Gee! Look at the street car!" called another man. "I'd give a year of my life for a trolley ride." "Look at them trees!" said someone as a view of a middle west farm followed. "Them are trees, boys, not cable way towers! How'd you like to shake the sand out of your eyes and see something green?" "What are you peeved about?" exclaimed another voice. "Ain't you working for our great and glorious government that'll kick you out like a dead dog whenever it wants to? Look what it's doing to the Big Boss!" "Hi! Man-o'-War at San Diego!" screamed a boy. "See all that wet water! Me for the navy! See how pretty that sailor looks in his cute white panties!" Hartman held the crowd for a good two hours, then he called, "That's all, boys! Come again!" "All? Nothing stirring," answered several voices. "Begin over again, Hartman. You can collect another nickel from us as we go out." There was laughter and applause and not a soul offered to leave. In the darkness Hartman was heard to laugh in return and shortly the first film appeared again. Fields of corn shimmered in the wind. Cows grazed in quiet meadows. The audience stared again, breathlessly. Suddenly from without was heard a long-drawn cry. It was like the lingering shriek of a coyote. Few in the hall had heard the call before, yet no one mistook it for anything but human. "An Apache yell!" exclaimed an excited voice. There was a sudden overturning of benches and Pen and Jim were forced out into the street with the crowd. An arc light glowed in front of the hall. Under this the crowd swayed for a moment, uncertain whither to move. Jim held Pen's arm and looked about quickly. "I don't know where you will be safest, Pen. I wish I'd heeded the itching of my thumb and taken you home an hour ago." "Jim," said Pen, "I certainly like your parties. They are full of surprises." "You are a good little sport," said Jim, "but that doesn't make me less worried about you. Hang onto my arm now like a little burr." He began to work his way through the crowd. "I don't want to attract their attention," he said. "They will follow me like sheep."