THE ALBUMS ARE GONE
More than one, at least in the crowd that had gathered to watch the
movie folk, was almost as much excited as was Mrs. Martin, when they
saw the actress jump out of the boat into the river. But Mr. Martin
quickly understood that it was all part of the work of making moving
pictures, and said:
“It’s all right, Mother! Don’t worry!”
“They’ll get her out!” added Ted. “Look, there goes a man in after her
now!”
As he spoke the man in the stern of the boat threw off his coat and
leaped with a great splash into the water after the young lady.
“And they’re taking pictures of it all the while!” called out Jan. “Oh,
I wish I could see them on the screen!”
What Janet said was true--from the time the boat started up the stream
near the white bridge until the moment when the young lady leaped
out and the actor leaped after her, men on the bank, and also men in
another boat, were quickly turning the handles of their moving picture
cameras, filming every action of the actors and actresses.
“Why do they have three cameras, Daddy?” asked Janet, for she noticed
at least this number of men, with their caps on backward, grinding away.
“There are two reasons for that,” answered Mr. Martin. “One reason is
that one film might be spoiled, and if it was the only one taken all
the work would have to be done over again. Another reason is that the
pictures give different views of the same scene, and it can not be
told, until after the films are developed and printed, which is the
best. So they take two or three, the same as a photographer takes more
than one picture of you when you go to his studio.”
“Did they take more than one picture of the little twin girls that
died?” Janet asked, pointing to where, in a box in the rear of the
auto, the two Cardwell albums had been placed. “And did they take two
pictures of the boy who was lost at sea?”
“I don’t know about that,” her father answered. “I suppose they did,
though the pictures were taken a number of years ago when it wasn’t as
easy to make photographs as it is now. When those twin girls and the
Cardwell boy sat for their portraits, moving pictures weren’t thought
of--at least, not as we see them now.”
“There--they’ve got her!” cried Ted, as he saw the man from the boat
reach the girl who had leaped overboard. “She’s saved!”
“Well, I’m glad of that,” remarked Mrs. Martin, with a sigh of relief.
“But she wasn’t going to drown, anyhow!” went on the Curlytop lad. “She
knew, all the while, that she’d be saved, didn’t she, Daddy?”
“I guess she did,” Mr. Martin admitted, with a smile. “These movie
people don’t take many chances. Of course, some of them who do ‘stunts’
run into danger, but, in the main, they are pretty careful. I guess
this young lady was a good swimmer.”
“They’re taking more pictures of her,” cried Jan. “Look! She’s on the
bank over there and they’re taking a lot more pictures of her.”
“So they are,” agreed Mrs. Martin. “The poor thing--they won’t even
give her a chance to get into dry clothes.”
“Probably the story of this movie doesn’t call for that,” suggested Mr.
Martin. “The young lady may have to be shown coming up from the water
dripping wet.”
That seemed so, for as soon as the man who had jumped from the boat
into the water after the actress began to carry her in his arms up
the bank of the creek, some of the camera men ran around with their
machines and again began grinding very fast at the handles.
“Oh, it must be wonderful to be a movie actress!” sighed Jan.
“I’d like to be one of the cowboy actors!” exclaimed Ted, looking at
the men in western costume, who, just then, did not seem to have much
to do. They were standing idly about near their horses.
“Well, if being a movie actress means jumping into a river with all
your clothes on, I beg to be excused,” laughed Mrs. Martin.
“I’m glad we came here,” said Ted. “Aren’t you, Jan?”
“I just guess I am!” she murmured. “Oh, look! Now she’s running away
from the man who saved her!”
Indeed, this very scene was then taking place, and it caused some more
excitement.
For the young lady, dripping wet as she had been taken from the water,
had rested on the bank only a moment, while some pictures of her and
her rescuer were taken, and then, with a scream, she broke away from
the man and rushed off across the meadow.
But it was all part of the play that was being taken, for the Curlytops
noticed that the young lady was running straight toward a camera that
had been set up near a clump of willow trees. And as she approached the
machine the man behind it kept it focused, or “aimed,” as Ted said,
straight at the actress, picturing her every movement.
“I wish they’d take a picture of a nellifunt!” sighed Trouble, and
again his queer remark caused a laugh.
“I guess they haven’t any elephants in this outfit,” remarked a man
standing near the Martin auto.
“What do you suppose it’s all about?” asked Mrs. Martin of her
husband, as they got out of the car and walked toward a group of the
picture people. “I mean what is the story they are filming?”
“I don’t know, and I doubt very much if even those taking part in it
know what it’s all about,” said Mr. Martin. “You see,” he explained,
“in taking moving pictures they make views of all the scenes that take
place in a certain spot all at once. That’s so they won’t have to come
back to it again. Now they may take views of the cowboys here at the
bridge and also pictures of the girl in the boat. But the cowboy scenes
may be shown at the beginning of the finished film, and the scene we
have just witnessed may be at the very end. That’s how movie work is
done.”
“Look, they’re going to take cowboy pictures now!” cried Ted, as he saw
some camera men approaching a group of the horsemen. And the cowboys,
who had been idly talking, now leaped to their saddles as if to be in
readiness for something.
“Yes,” remarked Mr. Martin, as he glanced across the meadow, nodding to
several Cresco men whom he knew, “I think they have finished filming
the drowning lady for the present. She may put on dry clothes and
take part in some other part of the play. Now we’ll watch the cowboys.
They’ll make it lively, I think.”
“Have we time to stay here and watch this?” asked Mrs. Martin, as she
followed her husband and the children from the auto out over the green
meadow.
“Oh, yes,” he answered. “We are off on a pleasure tour, you know, and
this is giving the children as much pleasure as anything we could let
them see. It is educational, too, and this seems like a company of nice
people.”
“Will it be safe to leave the car?” went on his wife.
“Oh, surely!” laughed Mr. Martin. “No one will run away with it. There
are police here,” and he pointed to some of the Cresco force that
had gathered to keep order while moving pictures were being taken.
“Besides, I’ll lock it; then it will be safe.”
This he did, and then he took the Curlytops, his wife, and Trouble over
where they would have a good view of what the cowboys were about to
enact.
“What company is this?” asked Mr. Martin of Mr. Taylor, the feed
merchant.
“Oh, it’s one that makes funny films,” was the answer. “Comedies, you
know. They have a studio in Mansfield, but they’re out here just for
the day. Quite a sight, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s interesting,” admitted Mr. Martin.
“Your children are taking it all in,” added Mr. Taylor, laughing.
“They don’t miss much,” admitted Mr. Martin.
By this time, with the Curlytops and Trouble in a place where they
would have a good view, that part of the play in which the cowboys had
a part began to be filmed.
One actor waved his hat and flapped it against the sides of his pony,
starting it off at a fast gallop down the meadow. As he rode along the
children could see cameras grinding away, taking pictures of this fast
ride. Then, after the first man, rode a number of others. Now began a
scene of great excitement, for the cowboys chasing after the one who
had first ridden away began firing their big revolvers and shouting at
the tops of their voices.
“My goodness!” cried Mrs. Martin, holding her hands over her ears at
the sounds of shooting. “I hope they aren’t firing real bullets!”
“They’re only blank cartridges,” declared Teddy. “Aren’t they, Daddy!”
“Yes,” was the answer.
“Oh, look!” suddenly cried Jan. “One man fell off his horse!”
That actually happened to one of the riders chasing after the lone
cowboy. Off his horse he rolled, tumbling over and over. The pony
got up after the fall and walked about, beginning to eat grass as if
nothing had happened. The cowboy, also, picked himself up and walked
with a limp over to get back on his steed.
“I’m glad he wasn’t hurt,” said Mrs. Martin.
“Oh, he did that on purpose!” said Ted.
“I guess he did,” Mr. Martin agreed. “They want to make the picture
look as natural as possible, so often the riders fall off on purpose.”
“I should think they’d be hurt,” observed the mother of the Curlytops.
“Cowboys know how to fall,” said Ted. “Maybe I’m going to be a cowboy
when I grow up, and ride a bucking bronco.”
“An’ maybe I’ll ride a nellifunt!” declared Trouble.
After an exciting chase, which was all taken in by the cameras, the
cowboys quieted down. This seemed to be the end of making pictures
for that time and in that place. The actors and actresses hurried to
waiting automobiles, and the camera men began taking the long-legged
tripods from their machines.
“You picked a good spot to leave your car, Mr. Martin,” said Mr.
Taylor, as the family was walking back to resume their tour.
“What do you mean?”
“Your machine is right next to that of Harry Portnay, the actor. That’s
his car there,” and Mr. Taylor pointed. “He’s getting into it now. His
car is the same make as yours and the same kind.”
“Oh, is that Mr. Portnay?” exclaimed Mrs. Martin. “I’ve often seen him
in the films. How interesting! He was one of the cowboys, wasn’t he?”
“Yes,” agreed Mr. Taylor. “And he’s very funny. He’s the one who fell
off his horse.”
“No wonder he knew how to fall!” laughed Ted. “I like him!”
Indeed, Mr. Portnay was well known in the films, and quite a favorite
with boys and girls. Ted and Janet had often seen the Portnay pictures
in the Cresco theater.
With wondering eyes at being this near to a real movie actor, the
Curlytops watched Mr. Portnay get into his car and drive away with
others of his company who had come to Cresco on location.
“Well, I guess the excitement is all over,” remarked Mr. Martin, as the
crowd began leaving the field when the actors and camera men had moved
away.
“But we saw a lot, didn’t we, Jan?” asked Ted.
“It was wonderful!” she returned. “I’d like to see it all over again!”
“But we must start on our tour, if we’re going,” said Mrs. Martin, as
she lifted Trouble into the car. “Come along, Curlytops.”
Mr. Martin looked over his machine, to make sure everything was all
right. He counted the bags, valises, and other things they had brought
with him, and noted that the tent to be used for camping was on the
running-board.
Suddenly he gave a start of surprise and asked his wife:
“Did you move that box of albums?”
“You mean the Cardwell albums?”
“Yes. It was in the back of the car. Did you move it?”
“No, I didn’t touch it. I saw it there when we got out, though.”
“Well, it isn’t there now!” exclaimed her husband. “The Cardwell albums
with the old pictures in them are gone! I wonder who could have taken
them!”