TEXAS WALT HATFIELD SAUNTERED into the Los Angeles field office, cast a withering glance at the front-desk man’s fancy duds, and shook howdy with Isaac Bell.

Bell felt the tall Texan flinch.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Busted it falling off my damned horse. Camel spooked him.”

Bell was astonished. There was no finer horseman in the West. “When’s the last time you fell off a horse?”

“Unless you mean shot off,” Texas Walt drawled, “Ah was three years old, and he hadn’t been broke yet.”

“Did you catch up with Joe McCoy?”

“Yup. Like Tarses told me, used to thug for Edison—McCoy called it ‘engaged by Mr. Edison’s legal department.’ Quit or got fired, Ah couldn’t tell, came out here, and hired on with Imperial Protection. McCoy claims they’ve been whupping the heck out of the Edison Boys.”

“I just saw a bunged-up bunch headed back East on the train,” Bell said. “McCoy have any inkling what Imperial Protection’s all about?”

“He’s not a talkative feller. Though near as Ah can gather, he himself’s on the level.”

“Are they?”

“All I know is they ain’t asking for protection money. But if it’s not a racket, why is Imperial taking the independents’ side in the Trust war? Kindness of their hearts?”

Bell said, “I suspect that the truth is printed on their calling card.”

“‘The Independent’s Friend?’ How you figure that?”

“If an outfit that distributes and exhibits moving pictures befriends all the independents, they can rent out a lot of films.”

Texas Walt shoved his Stetson back on his head. “Like the cattle broker buying up every herd at the railhead.”

“And the meat packer in Chicago buying by the trainload. The Independent’s Friend could control the distribution and exhibition of all the independents’ moving pictures.”

“You’re sure they’re the same Imperial as the outfit you’re tracking?”

Bell nodded emphatically. “Larry Saunders got the Los Angeles exchange to trace their telephone number back to the Imperial Building.”

“And you’re sure Imperial Film’s a blind for something else?” Hatfield asked.

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” said Isaac Bell.

“Reckon you want me to continue riding for Tarses?”

“No. I want you inside that building. They’ve got cinematography studio stages up in the penthouse. Audition at Imperial to get a job acting inside.”

“Acting jobs ain’t all that easy to tie on to, Isaac. There’s men and women lined up everywhere they’re taking pictures.”

“You have a leg up, Walt. You look like you should be in pictures. And you’ve already worked in a couple. Get inside Imperial first thing tomorrow.”

Texas Walt hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” asked Bell.

“Well, I don’t want to leave Tarses in a lurch.”

“Tarses? What does Tarses have to do with the Talking Pictures case?”