A BIT OF OUTDOORS
"Wasn't it fine!"
"Splendid! I never expected to see myself like that."
"Neither did I. Russ, how did you come to think of it?"
"Oh, it just came to me," he answered, chuckling.
The two "moving picture girls," as they laughingly called themselves,
with Russ, were on their way home from the little theater where they
had just witnessed the depiction of themselves on the screen. They
had listened with amusement, not unmixed with pride, at the whispered
comments on the play in which they had taken part.
"Do you think--I mean--would you call that a successful film, Russ?"
asked Alice.
"I certainly would," he replied. "Didn't I take it myself?"
"That's so!" exclaimed Ruth. "But I wish Mr. Pertell could know how
well it went. Not on our account," she added quickly, "but on account
of his own business, and because dear daddy is in it. And the others,
too--they'd be glad to know the audience liked it, I think."
"Don't worry," returned Russ. "Mr. Pertell will know it soon enough.
He keeps track of all his films, and he knows which are successful or
not. He'll hear of this one the first thing in the morning. The
owners of the theaters where our films are used report as to which go
the best. And their own re-orders also show that. So you'll be
discovered, all right."
"Oh, it wasn't so much that!" declared Alice, quickly. "But it is new
and strange to us, and I suppose we're too enthusiastic about it."
"Not a bit too enthusiastic!" Russ assured her. "That's what I like
to see, and I guess the manager does, too. It would be a good thing
if some of the others were a little more enthusiastic. They'd do
better acting. Say!" he broke in, "what do you say to an ice cream
soda? It's warm this evening," and he paused before a brilliantly
lighted drug store.
"Shall we, Ruth?" asked Alice, with a queer little look at her
sister.
"Oh, I don't know," began Ruth, hesitatingly.
"Which means--yes!" Alice cried, gaily. "Come on!"
Mr. DeVere looked up inquiringly from his bundle of manuscript as the
girls and Russ entered the little apartment later.
"Oh, Daddy! It was just fine!" cried Alice, going over to him, and
covering his eyes with her hands.
"We saw ourselves--and you, too, as others see us!" added Ruth.
"I--er--I don't understand," their father whispered.
"The moving pictures," explained Alice. "It was that play, 'A False
Count,' you know. Oh, it made a great hit, I can tell you!"
"Ah, I'm glad to hear it," he said. "Sit down, Russ."
"No, I can't stay," answered the visitor from across the hall. "I've
brought your daughters safely home, and now I have to get back. I've
got a little work to do yet."
"Not at the studio; have you--so late?" asked Ruth.
"Oh, it isn't late," he laughed. "But I want to do a little work on
my invention. I've sort of struck a snag, and it's bothering me. I
want it as nearly perfect as I can get it, and I've thought of an
improvement I can put on it. So I'll say good-night."
"Thank you, ever so much, for taking us!" said Alice, warmly.
"Yes, indeed, it was fine!" added Ruth, her eyes sparkling. "To think
of seeing ourselves! It was a great surprise."
"Oh, you'll get used to it after a while," returned Russ. And then he
went to his own room to labor ambitiously over his patent.
"No more work to-night, Dad!" announced Ruth, firmly, as she saw her
father preparing to resume the study of the manuscript containing his
part in a new moving picture drama. "Your eyes must be tired, and you
must save them. It won't do to have them spoiled, as well as your
voice."
"No, I suppose not," he answered, somewhat wearily. "This work is
rather trying. I believe I would like to get out in the open for a
change. Though I always said I never would do open-air parts in the
movies."
"I'd like to get out, too," said Alice. "I enjoyed what little we did
in the Brooklyn garden very much."
"I heard something at the studio about a prospect of the whole
company being given a chance to do some outdoor dramas," observed
Ruth, musingly. "I wonder what was meant?"
"Mr. Pertell will probably tell us when he has his plans perfected,"
Alice returned. "You know, though, that he promised if this 'A False
Count' play should be a success he'd give us a chance in a more
pretentious drama. I'm counting on that."
"And so am I," said Ruth. "Come, now, Daddy. No more work to-night."
As Russ had predicted, Mr. Pertell was not long in learning of the
success of the play in which Ruth and Alice had main parts. In a day
or so there came an increased demand for the films of the drama, and
the manager was well pleased.
"And now I'm going to keep the promise I made you," he said to Ruth
and Alice. "I've been holding back on a big drama, waiting until I
saw how that one turned out. I didn't have any doubts, though, after
I saw you two act. Now I'm going to star you in that. And afterward,
well, we'll see what will happen. I've got a lot of ideas I want to
try," he added.
"Mr. DeVere," the manager went on, "I believe you told me at one time
that you did not care to do any acting that took you out in the open;
am I right?"
"I did say that," admitted the actor, in his husky voice; "but I
think I have changed my mind since then. I believe I would like to
get out of doors more."
"Then I have the very thing for you and your daughters, too," the
manager said. "That is, if they have no objection to going out of
doors?" and he looked questioningly at them.
"We'd love it!" cried Alice.
"Then I'll make my plans," went on Mr. Pertell, after a confirmatory
nod from Mr. DeVere. "I think you'll like your parts. One of the acts
takes place on a yacht. I've hired one for a little trip down the
bay, and you can play at being millionaires for a day."
"How lovely!" cried Ruth, and clapped her hands gleefully.
"It is fine on the water these days!" exclaimed Alice.
"I'll have your parts ready soon," went on the manager. "I must start
some of the other dramas going now," and he glanced about the studio.
Off in one corner, talking together, were Miss Pennington and Miss
Dixon, and, as the two actresses conversed they cast envious glances,
from time to time, at Alice and Ruth. They were plainly jealous of
the rapid rise of our two friends, but the moving picture girls bore
in mind what motherly Mrs. Maguire had told them, and did not worry.
Mr. Pertell and his assistants gave out the parts in another play,
and the rehearsals began. Almost at the start there was trouble.
"I'm not going to play that part!" objected Wellington Bunn, stalking
with a tragic air toward the manager.
"Why, what's the matter with your part?"
"Why, you have been promising that you would put on one of
Shakespeare's plays, and give me a chance in Hamlet, and here you go
and cast me for one of a gang of counterfeiters. I have to wear a
black mask. The public will not know that it is Wellington Bunn
playing."
"Well, maybe it's a good thing they won't," murmured the manager, but
what he said, aloud, was:
"You will have to take that part, Mr. Bunn, or look for another
engagement."
"Then I'll leave!" the old actor declared gloomily.
But a little later he was observed to be putting on his mask, and
taking his place in the "den of the counterfeiters," as the screen
announced the place to be. It was one of the masterpieces of scenery
evolved by Pop Snooks. And a little later he transformed the same
scene, with a little manipulation, into the cave of a thirteenth
century monk. Such was Pop Snooks.
"Ha! Ha! I haf a funny part!" laughed Carl Switzer, a little later.
"What is it?" asked Russ, who was getting a camera in readiness for
action.
"Ha! It iss dot I go in a restaurant, und order a meal. Der vaiter he
brings me some cheese und I am so thoughtfulness dot I put red pepper
and horse radish on it. Den, ven I eat it I jumps ofer der table
alretty yet. Dot is a fine part!" and he laughed gleefully, for Mr.
Switzer was a simple soul.
A little later Alice and Ruth were given their new parts to study. It
was announced that rehearsals would take place in a day or two, and
many of the scenes were to be out of doors, some of them taking place
on a yacht. Meanwhile Mr. DeVere went through with his rôle in a film
drama, Ruth and Alice not being called on.
Finally announcement was made that the work of preparation for
filming the big drama would be undertaken. This was the most
ambitious play yet planned by Mr. Pertell, and he was anxious to make
it a success.
That the price of success is high was amply proven in the next week.
Everyone worked hard at the rehearsals, and none harder than Ruth
and Alice. They were determined that their parts should be a credit
to the performance. Later they learned that Miss Pennington and Miss
Dixon had pleaded for the rôles assigned to them.
But Mr. Pertell was true to his promise, and kept Alice and Ruth in
their assigned places. The drama was an elaborate one, involving the
making of special scenery, and Pop Snooks had to call in several
assistants. But he liked that.
Then, too, the location of the outdoor scenes had to be chosen with
care, to fit properly into the story.
But at last the rehearsals were complete, including those for the
outdoor scenes. Of course the latter were rehearsed in the studio
first, so that when the time came to film such as the scenes on the
yacht, the pictures could be made without any preliminary trial on
the vessel itself. To this end Pop had set up in the studio enough of
the deck and fittings of a yacht to enable the performers to
familiarize themselves with them.
"And now for the real thing!" exclaimed Russ, as a goodly part of the
company, including Mr. DeVere and his daughters, started for the
Battery one morning. They were to board the yacht there, and one of
the scenes would show the girls going up the gang-plank.
It was a beautiful day in early summer, when even New York, with its
rattle of elevated trains, rumble of the surface cars and hurry and
scurry of automobiles, was attractive.
Quite a throng of curious people gathered when the film theatrical
company prepared to board the vessel which had been chartered for the
occasion. The embarking place was near the round building, now used
as an Aquarium, but which, in former years, was Castle Garden, the
immigrant landing station.
"All ready now--start aboard," ordered Mr. Pertell. "And, Russ, get
your camera a little more this way. I want to show off the yacht as
well as possible."
The moving picture operator shifted his three-legged machine to one
side, and was about to start moving the film, as Ruth, Alice and the
others, presumably of a gay yachting party, started up the
gang-plank.
Several feet of film had been exposed, when there was a series of
shouts and cries back of the crowd that had gathered to see the
pictures made in the open air. Then came a warning:
"A runaway! A runaway horse! Look out!"
The crowd parted, and Ruth, looking up, saw a big horse, attached to
a dray, dashing along one of the walks of Battery Park, having
evidently come from one of the steamship piers nearby.
"Grab him, somebody!" yelled Mr. Pertell. "He'll spoil the picture!"
That seemed to be his main thought.
On came the maddened animal, while the crowd scattered still more.
Russ continued to make pictures, for the beast was not yet in focus.
"Go on! Keep moving!" directed Mr. Pertell to Ruth, Alice and the
others. "Maybe you can get aboard before he gets here. Watch
yourself, Russ!"
But the horse was charging directly for the gang-plank, and with
frightened eyes Ruth, Alice and some of the others prepared to rush
back to the pier.
"Go on! I'll get that horse!" cried a voice back of Mr. Pertell, and
a man, apparently a farmer, sprang at the head of the plunging steed.