The sheriff and his man then went about the farm, posting several notices of the sale on the different buildings. This gave Russ an idea, and he suggested it to Mr. Pertell. "Why not make a film of this," said the young operator. "Old couple--going to be turned off their farm--foreclosure of mortgage--posting the notices--the cruel creditor--the sheriff and all that. We could make up a good play." "So we could!" cried the manager. "A good idea, and I'll pay Mr. and Mrs. Apgar for posing for us. It'll give 'em a little extra money." At first the aged couple would not hear of posing before the camera, but Sandy explained matters to them, and told them they could easily do it. Mr. Pertell promised to pay well, and this finally won them over. The sheriff and his deputy good-naturedly agreed to do their tacking up of the notices in front of the camera, and so an unexpected film was obtained. It is often that way in making moving pictures. The least germ of an idea often leads to a good play. The other scenes in "The Loss of the Farm," as the play was to be called, would be made later. For the present it was necessary to go on with the scenes of the drama, part of which had been laid in the wheat field. Russ put some fresh film in his camera and was ready for Ruth and Alice, who had some pretty little scenes together. The day was hot, the work was exacting, and when it was over everyone was ready to rest. Russ was perhaps busier than any, for he had to prepare the films to be sent in light-tight boxes to New York for development, arrangement, and printing. "Let's go off to the woods," suggested Alice to her sister, when they had changed their costumes for walking dresses of cool brown, with white waists. "I declare I just want to get under a tree and lie down on the soft green moss." "So do I, dear. We'll go up to that little dell which is so pretty--the one where we got the lovely flowers. It is so restful there." Together the sisters set off, walking slowly, for the air was sultry. "Don't you want to come, Daddy?" called Ruth to her father, who was sitting on the farmhouse porch. "No, thank you," he answered. "I have some letters to write." His voice had grown somewhat stronger under the influence of the pure, country air, and from the fact that he used it very little. But still it was not clear enough to enable him to go back into legitimate theatrical work. And, truth to tell, he rather preferred the moving pictures now. It was easier, even if there was no audience to applaud him. Ruth and Alice soon reached the edge of the cool woods, and then they strolled slowly along until they came to a little dell--a nook they had discovered one day when out walking. "Oh, this is delightful!" exclaimed Alice, as she sank down on a bed of moss. "Yes, it is very soothing to the nerves," agreed Ruth. "Oh, dear!" she suddenly cried, leaping to her feet. "What is it?" demanded Alice. "A bug walked right over my shoe!"