CHAPTER II

A MISSING DOG

After the first crash, the sudden stop, and the terrified cries, a

silence followed that was almost as startling and nerve-racking as

the accident had been.

Then benumbed senses gradually came back to their owners, and the

passengers began to take stock of themselves and their surroundings.

"Is anybody hurt?" demanded Mr. Pertell, as he surveyed the interior

of the car.

"We seem to be all right," replied Mr. DeVere, hoarsely, as he noted

where his two daughters were standing together, their arms about each

other.

"Py gracious, dot vos a smash, all right!" exclaimed Carl Switzer,

the comedian of the company. "I pelief me dot I haf busted----"

"Not your leg--don't say you have broken your leg!" cried Mrs.

Maguire, as she clasped her two grandchildren in her arms. Nellie,

the little girl, was crying, from having bumped her nose against the

back of a seat.

"No, t'ank my lucky stars I haf not broken my leg. It iss only my

shoe-lace!" exclaimed Mr. Switzer, triumphantly, as he held it up,

dangling.

"Luck!" grunted Mr. Sneed in gloomy tones. "Is there any such thing

as good luck? I knew something would happen when we started out on

track thirteen. This company is doomed--I can see that."

"Well, then, please keep it to yourself," requested Mr. Pertell,

sharply. "You are getting on the nerves of the ladies, Sneed!"

For Miss Pearl Pennington, and her friend Miss Laura Dixon--the two

rather flashily-pretty girls mentioned before--were crying

hysterically.

"It doesn't seem to be a very bad smash," went on Mr. Pertell.

"Suppose we go out and see what caused it? I hope none of our baggage

has been damaged."

"Oh, let's go out and see Russ taking moving pictures of the wreck!"

proposed Alice, as she brushed off her blue suit.

"Are you sure you're all right?" asked Ruth, anxiously.

"Oh, certainly! Not hurt at all. Just jolted up a bit. Come on. You

too, Daddy!"

Indeed the whole theatrical company, as well as the other passengers,

made for the doors of the car. And while they are going out to see

the extent of the damage I will take just a moment to make my new

readers somewhat better acquainted with the characters of this story.

To begin with the moving picture girls themselves, they were Ruth and

Alice DeVere, aged seventeen and fifteen respectively, the daughters

of Hosmer DeVere, formerly a well known actor. As told in the first

volume, "The Moving Picture Girls; Or, First Appearances in Photo

Dramas," Mr. DeVere's voice had suddenly given out, when he was

rehearsing for a part in a new play.

This came particularly hard, as he had been without an engagement for

some time, and finances were low. The DeVere family lived in the

Fenmore Apartment on one of the West Sixtieth streets of New York

City. They were, in fact, about to be dispossessed for non-payment of

rent when Mr. DeVere experienced a return of an old throat affection,

making it impossible for him to speak his lines.

He was replaced in the character, and matters looked black indeed.

Across the hall from the DeVere family lived Russ Dalwood, a moving

picture operator, with his widowed mother and brother, Billy. Russ

learned of the distress of his neighbors, and suggested that as Mr.

DeVere could act he might get a place with a moving picture company

that produced picture dramas. In this work he would not need to speak

very much.

At first Mr. DeVere would not hear of it, as he was an actor of some

reputation in the "legitimate." But finally he yielded and became a

member of the Comet Film Company. How his two daughters joined the

company, through a mere accident, and how they made fame for

themselves, you will find set down in the book; also how they aided

Russ greatly when it seemed as if a valuable patent he had perfected,

for an attachment to a moving picture camera, was in danger of being

stolen.

Toward the close of that story you may learn how Mr. Pertell became

acquainted with a young farmer named Sandy Apgar, who was working a

large farm for his aged father, near Beatonville, in New Jersey. It

happened that Mr. Pertell was contemplating the filming of a number

of rural plays, and he made arrangements with Mr. Apgar to use the

farm as a background for the scenes. The company would also live and

board at the farmhouse, which was a large, old-fashioned home.

The players were on their way there when the accident occurred.

To go a little more into detail about the two girls, and the others,

I might say that Ruth was tall, with deep blue eyes and light hair.

She was rather inclined to be romantic, too, as might be suspected.

Alice was just the opposite--plump, jolly, always laughing or joking,

and with a wealth of brown hair, and eyes like hazel nuts. She was

very like her dead mother, while Ruth was more like her father in

character.

Mr. Pertell was the manager and owner of the Comet Film Company, and

I have already mentioned the principal players. Ruth and Alice were

the newest members. Miss Pennington and Miss Dixon were from the

vaudeville stage, and you could see this without being told. They

were a bit jealous of the DeVere girls.

Mrs. Maguire, who was billed as "Cora Ashleigh," was generally played

in "old woman parts." And she played them well. Her two

grandchildren, Tommy and Nellie, occasionally had small parts in the

plays. Mr. Switzer was the comedian, and, opposite to him, was Pepper

Sneed, the "grouch." Wellington Bunn seemed always to have a

grievance because he had not made a success in Shakespeare.

Pop Snooks was the "Old Reliable" property man of the company, and

what he could not manufacture in the way of "props" at short notice

was hardly worth mentioning.

The company of moving picture players and the other train passengers

found a scene of desolation awaiting them as they alighted. But it

was not as bad as might have been expected, and no one had been

killed. In fact, no one was hurt, save the fireman and engineer of

the passenger train, and they only slightly.

What had happened was this: A freight train, on a siding, had overrun

a switch, and one of the cars encroached on the main line tracks. The

passenger engine had "side-swiped" it, as the railroad term has it.

That is, the engine had struck a glancing blow, and had been

derailed. The baggage car, directly behind the engine, had been

smashed, but a quick survey on the part of Mr. Pertell showed that

the company's baggage had not been damaged.

The wreck was bad enough, however, and meant a delay until the track

was cleared. The members of the company, and the other passengers,

gathered about, looking on while the railroad men held a consultation

as to what was best to be done.

"Look, there's Russ, taking pictures!" exclaimed Ruth, pointing to

him. The young operator had gone to the baggage car and obtained the

tripod of his camera. This he had set up in an advantageous position,

and was industriously grinding away at the handle, taking pictures of

the wreck on the moving strip of celluloid.

"This will be all right for our newspaper service!" he called to Mr.

Pertell.

"That's right! Good work, Russ! But this will mean a delay in getting

to Oak Farm."

However, there was no help for it. One of the trainmen went to the

nearest station to telephone for the wrecking crew. Fortunately it

was not necessary to bring one out from Hoboken, since at Dover, a

station some miles down the line, such an equipment was kept. And a

little later the wrecking crew was on the scene.

"I'll get some fine pictures now!" exulted Russ. "I'm glad I'm here,

though I wouldn't want a railroad collision to happen every day. We

might not get off so lucky next time."

"Luck! Don't mention luck!" grumbled Mr. Sneed. "The idea of starting

out on track thirteen! I told you something would happen."

"Den you vas not disappointmented alretty yet!" laughed Mr. Switzer.

The work of getting the engine back on the track was comparatively

easy, and it was found that the train could proceed, since the

running gear of the baggage car was intact.

The train was almost ready to go on again, when a woman, flashily

dressed, and wearing many diamonds, came bustling up from the parlor

car.

"Is my dog safe?" she inquired of the baggageman. "Is he hurt?"

"No'm, he's all right; or he was a little while ago," the man

answered. "He was tied in the corner, just where you told me to put

him. I guess he's there yet. His end of the car wasn't hit. But he

howled a lot."

"Poor Rex! Let me see him." The lady went to the open door of the

baggage car, and looked in. "Why, he's gone!" she cried. "My dog--my

darling dog--is gone!"

"Can't be!" exclaimed the trainman. "He was tied right there a minute

ago."

He jumped into the shattered car and looked about.

"Is he there?" cried the woman.

"No, ma'am, he's gone," was the answer. "But I don't see how it could

be."

"Did he break loose?" the lady asked, with much eagerness.

"No, the strap is gone, and he couldn't possibly untie the knot I

put in it. Someone has taken him, ma'am."

"Then this company is responsible, and I shall sue it!" the lady

cried, bristling with what might be righteous anger. "My dog was a

valuable one. Rex III has taken prize after prize, and I was on my

way with him to a dog show now. Oh, Rex! Who could have taken you?"

and she seemed genuinely distressed.

"What kind of a dog was he?" asked Alice, for she loved animals.

"A collie--a most beautiful collie. He had a pink bow on, and here it

is! Oh, how I loved him! We were inseparable! And now he is gone!"

and tears filled the lady's eyes.

The Moving Picture Girls at Oak Farm or, Queer Happenings While Taking Rural Plays · 第 2 / 25 章