The Moving Picture Boys on the Coast Part 11

"Stop the cameras," came from Mr. Ringold. "We don't want that in the picture."

"Man overboard!" bawled the fishermen, who were interestedly watching the scene. "Launch the motor boat!"

CHAPTER X

TO SAN FRANCISCO

For a moment there was excitement, and then the trained men of the sea got into action. Nearby there were several fis.h.i.+ng boats, operated by gasoline motors. There were planks at hand, and rollers on which the craft could be launched in the surf, being eased along the slope by releasing a cable rigged to a post some distance away.

It did not take long for the fishermen to launch one of these motor boats, and while C. C. Piper was struggling in the surf, endeavoring as best he could to climb into his overturned boat, they put out to rescue him.

"Do you want that in the picture?" asked Joe, who was at one of the cameras.

"No indeed!" cried Mr. Ringold. "It won't fit in at all! He must drift ash.o.r.e. We'll have to do all this over again."

"I can see Gloomy doing it," murmured Blake.

At that moment there came a hail from the comedian.

"h.e.l.lo!" he cried. "Are you going to--gulp--let me--glub--sink out here? Can't some of you----" and the rest was lost amid a series of gurgles as the salty water got in C. C.'s mouth.

"Hold on just a little longer," called one of the fishermen, as he directed the craft toward the struggling actor. "We'll have you out presently."

"You'd--better--hurry--up!" panted the comedian, who might well be excused at this moment from taking a gloomy view of life.

He managed to cling to one side of the dory until the rescuing motor craft reached him. Then he was soon hauled aboard, dripping wet, all but exhausted, and unable to utter a sound save sighs.

"Well, it was too bad," said Mr. Ringold, when C. C. was once more ash.o.r.e. "I guess we'll have to get you a little larger boat."

"Get _me_ one?" asked the actor, with the accent on the personal p.r.o.noun.

"Certainly. We'll have to do this scene over again. I guess we could use one of the fis.h.i.+ng boats, though they're a little large. But we can move the cameras back. Take one of those, C. C."

"I guess not."

"What's that?"

"I said I guess not. No more for mine!"

"Do you mean to say you won't go on with this act? Are you going to balk as you did in the Indian scene?"

"Say," began C. C., earnestly, as, dripping wet as he was, he strode up to the theatrical man, "I can't swim, and I don't like the water. I told you that the time you took me up in the country, where we found these boys," and he motioned to Blake and Joe, who were looking interestedly on, ready to work the cameras as soon as required.

"And yet," went on Mr. Piper, "you insisted that I jump overboard then and rescue Miss Shay. Now you want me to drift in as a s.h.i.+pwrecked sailor. It's too much, I tell you. There is entirely too much water and tank drama in this business. I know I'll get my death of cold, if I don't drown."

"Oh, can't you look on the bright side?" asked Miss Shay, who was to come into the drama later. "Why, it's so warm I should think you'd like to get into the surf."

"Not for mine!" exclaimed C. C., firmly, and it took some persuasion on the part of the theatrical manager, accompanied by a promise of an increase of salary every time he had to go into the water, to induce C. C. to try the s.h.i.+pwreck scene over again.

This time a larger boat was used, and, though it came near to capsizing, it did not quite go over, though considerable water was s.h.i.+pped. C. C.

managed to stay aboard, and the cameras, rapidly clicking, registered each movement of the actor and those who later took part in the drama.

Then some sh.o.r.e scenes were photographed, the supposed s.h.i.+pwrecked persons building a fire, pretending to catch fish from the ocean, and cooking them.

All this the moving picture boys, or Mr. Hadley, faithfully registered on the films, to be later thrown on the screen for the delight of the public.

"I wonder if the folks who look at moving pictures realize how they are made?" said Joe, as they stopped work for the day.

"I don't believe so," answered Blake. "There are tricks in all trades, it's said; but I guess the moving picture business is as full of them as any."

The next two days were busy ones, as a number of elaborate acts had to be filmed, and the boys were kept on the jump from morning to night. Mr.

Hadley, also, had all he could do with the camera. There were fis.h.i.+ng views to get, scenes on the beach, where a number of children were induced to play at games in the sand, building castles and tunnels, boating incidents and the like.

C. C. did not fall overboard again, though he often was sent out to do some funny stunt that was to be used in the play.

"I wonder when we can go to San Francisco?" queried Joe one afternoon, following a particularly hard day. "I want to see that s.h.i.+pping agent, and ask him if he can give me any clue to my father."

"Maybe we'd better speak to Mr. Ringold," suggested Blake, and they did, with the result that the theatrical man informed them that the end of the week would be free, as he had to wait for some costumes to arrive before he could produce any more dramas.

"I want to get a good wreck scene," he said, "and that is going to be rather hard."

"Will it be a real wreck scene?" asked Joe.

"Yes, as real as we can make it. I'm negotiating now for an old schooner that I can scuttle out at sea. All the company will be aboard, and they'll drift about for a long time without food and water."

"Am I supposed to be in on that?" asked C. C., suspiciously.

"Of course," was the theatrical man's answer. "This is a circus company returning from abroad that is wrecked, and you are the clown. Be as funny as you can."

"Wrecked?" queried C. C.

"That's it."

"And I'm to be funny?"

"Certainly."

"Without food and water for days, and I'm expected to be funny!"

exclaimed the comedian, with a groan. "Oh, why did I ever get into this business? I'll not do it!"

"Oh you're only _supposed_ to be starving and thirsty," explained Mr.

Ringold. "If you want, you can take some sandwiches and cold coffee with you, and have lunch--but don't do it when the cameras are working. It wouldn't look well in the moving pictures to have a note on the screen saying that the s.h.i.+pwrecked persons were starving, and then show you chewing away; would it, now?"

"No, I suppose not," admitted C. C., with a sigh. "Oh, but this is a miserable business, though! I'm sure I'll be drowned before we get through with it!"