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8o Photoplay Magazine
'The half-breed," muttered Buckley, The Westerners t^he old man she had been attracted to when he saw the scar and remembered from the start was her real father. Havhow he had given it to him when he drove jVTARRATED, by permission, from ing heard from him of all Buckley's kindthe half-breed from camp, fifteen years A> the Great Authors picture, adapted n^sses ^^ ^-^^ and to her mother, whom before, for insulting the wife of Professor f;°'" Stewart Ldward Whites nov'el of l^^ ^ j j ^jjj j ^ bestowed a ki^s ... , , ' * the same name, and produced with the u i »u i / /'"'•""^;^ " "^'-^ Welch. following cast upon his leathery cheek, to the mixed conBuckley was at a great disadvantage in Cheyenne Harry Roy Stewart sternation and joy of the woman-shy
the ensuing struggle. With Lafond on his prue Welch ) ,,., , , i^ ■ i"3n.
back strangling him, he dropped the reins Molly Lafond \ ' ' ■ ^^^'"^''eci Manning Qnly Dennis was sad. Peter was dead!
and the frightened horses plunged wildly Michael La jond Robert McKim "Oh, mister, cani you do something
around the sharp curves of the mountain Jim Buckley Wilfred Lucas for him?" she appealed to the professor.
road. Buckley anticipated the dash over Prof. \Velch .Graham Petlie Tears streamed shamelessly and un
Ihe precipice. E.<erting superhuman ef LiUle Molly Mary Jane Irving heeded down the small freckled face. His
fort, he freed himself ami jumped to g-^^^, •;,;;, v; ; ; ; ; ; ; :Dorothr Ha^ar l'''^^ ^^'^? ^^f -Y" f ^«'ly had decided to salcty, but Lafond went, with horses and ■> c ^^ Harrys girl for keeps, and Peter was
buckboarti, tumbling over the cliff. dead. And then, lo! A pink tongue shot
When Buckley reached him, his old enemy was dead and in out and Ucked the salt tears off his master's face. A tail his pocket he found the check for the stamp mill, placed there wagged happily. Peter wasn't dead!
only that morning by the vengeful Lafond. Sunshine that follows rain was never more dazzling than the
VVhcn he returned to the camp, his innocence having been radiant smile that beamed through Dennis' tears. Picking his proven lo the satisfaction of the miners and the check in their faithful little pal up in his arms, Dennis left the house, turning hands, he found Harry; and wilfull, elusive, utterly adorable at the door for one last look at the girl who, once his, was Molly had capitulated and promised to marry him. Molly, now radiantly happy in the arms of another, herself, had found double happiness, for she had learned that "Bah!" he grimaced. "Girls ain't so much good as dogs.'
A Movie Music-Maker's Grand Opera
THE LEGEND," by Joseph Cjrl Breil, received its premiere performance at the Metropolitan Opera house in Ne-w York Cily last sprinji, presented with as appropriate a cast as could be assembled by the greatest operatic organization in the ■world. You ■wrill remember Mr. Breil as the man who wrote the music for "The Birth of a Nation" and "Intolerance. In the scene above Paul Althouse, distinguished American dramatic tenor, stands at the left. In the center is Rosa Ponselle, the great young soprano found in vaudeville this year. At the riglit is the basso, Louis d'Angelo.