Course, one close-up look is all that's needed. It's a movie outfit. I'm just gettin' hot under the collar, too, when I discovers that the gent in charge is none other than my old newspaper friend, Whitey Weeks. I'd heard how he'd gone into the film game as stage director, but I hadn't seen him at it yet. And here he is, big as life, wearin' a suit of noisy plaids as usual, and bossin' this assorted bunch of screen favorites like he'd done it all his life. "A little lively with those grease-paints now, ladies," he's callin' out. "This isn't for a next spring release, you know." "Huh!" says I, strollin' up. "Got the same old nerve with you, eh, Whitey?" "Well, well!" says he. "The illustrious and illuminating Torchy! Don't tell me you've just bought the estate?" "Would it matter to you who owned it," says I, "if you wanted to use it bad?" "Such cruel suspicions!" says he. "Sir, my permit!" He's got it, straight enough--a note to the lodge-keeper, signed by Mrs. Vernon Markley, and statin' that the Unexcelled Film Company was to have the courtesy of the grounds any afternoon between the 15th and 25th. "You see," explains Whitey, "we're staging an old English costume piece, and this Greek theater of Mrs. Markley's just fits in. Our president worked the deal for us. And we've got to do a thousand feet between now and five o'clock. Not in the same line, are you?" And he glances towards our crowd, that's pilin' out of the cars and gazin' puzzled towards us. "Do we look it?" says I. "No, what we was plannin' to pull off here was a weddin'. That's the groom there--my boss, Mr. Robert Ellins." "Bob Ellins!" says Whitey. "Whe-e-ew!" "Mrs. Markley must have forgot," says I. "Makes it kind of awkward for us, though." "But see here," says Whitey. "A real wedding, you say? Why, that's odd! That's our stunt, with merry villagers and all that stuff. Now, say, why couldn't we---- Let's see! Do you suppose Mr. Ellins would mind if----" I got the idea in a flash. "He won't mind anything," says I, "so long as he can be married merry. He's leavin' that to me--the whole act." "By Jove!" says Whitey. "The very thing, then. We'll---- But who else is this arriving? Look, coming in, two motor-buses full!" "That's our band," says I. "Great!" says Whitey. "Rovelli's, too! Say, this is going to be a bit of all right! Have him form 'em on between those cedars, out of range. Now we'll just get your folks into costume, let our company trail along as part of the wedding procession, and shoot the dear public the real thing, for once. What do you say?" Course, considerin' how Mr. Robert had shied at a hundred or so spectators, this lettin' him in on a film exchange circuit might seem a little raw; but it was too good a chance to miss. Another minute, and I'm strollin' over, lookin' bland and innocent. "Any hitch?" says Mr. Robert. "Have we got to the wrong place?"