Sunday came to be a big day for the automobile, for on that day we scouted for the week’s locations--that is, after David had made out his weekly expenses, his Sunday morning job. Here is a sample, recorded in almost illegible pen-and-ink longhand: Luncheon (30 actors) $ 7.50 Carfare (30 actors, location both ways) 15.00 Automobile (so many hours $4. per) 100.00 Locations (gratuities for using people’s places) 20.00 Incidentals 17.00 Extras (not actors, not incidentals either) 11.00 Those sufficiently interested may add. CHAPTER XX IN CALIFORNIA AND ON THE JOB We would not have been true to the traditions of the Golden State had we not used a Mission in our first picture. We meant to do our very best right off and send back a knock-out. So to San Gabriel we went to get the lovely old Mission atmosphere in a picture called “Threads of Destiny.” We spread ourselves; we took the Mission front, back and sideways, inside and out; we used the worn old stairway, shaded by a fragrant pepper tree, that led to the choir loft: we even planted lilies--or rather, Mary Pickford as _Myrtle_, the orphan girl of San Gabriel, planted lilies--along the adobe wall of the old cemetery where slept baptized Indians and Mexicans. It was pleasant sprawling about in the lazy sunshine. We who were “atmosphere” wandered about the cemetery, reading the old tombstones, and had the priest guide us through the Mission showing us its three-hundred-year-old treasures. And across the way we visited the curio shop where we bought pretty post-cards and ate _tamales_, real Mexican _tamales_. We would experiment on this Mission picture. We wanted a dim, religious light, and here it was, and we wanted to get it on the screen as it looked to us, the real thing. One little window let in an afternoon slant of soft sunshine that fell directly upon the pulpit where Christie Miller, playing an old priest, was to stand and bless the congregation. If we could light up Christie, the devout worshipers could be mere shadows and it would look fine--just what we wanted. Billy Bitzer would “get” it if it could be got, that we knew. So while Billy was tuning up his camera, Bobby Harron came and gathered in the congregation from the curio shop and cemetery, and we quietly took our places in the chapel and did our atmospheric bit. We did pray--we prayed that it would be a good effect. We rather held our breath at the picture’s first showing until his tricky scene was flashed on the screen. Then we relaxed; it was all there!