The Moving Picture Boys on the Coast Part 15

"It's going to be a fire scene. We'll buy one of these cottages, or else have one built that will do well enough for picture purposes, and set it ablaze. Then, when C. C. comes running out, carrying Miss Shay--or maybe Miss Lee, for she's lighter--we'll----"

"Hold on there!" called the comedian. "Did I understand you to say I had to rush out of a burning building?"

"That's it, C. C."

"But to rush out I've got to go in; haven't I?"

"Why, naturally, C. C."

"Then I serve notice here and now that I resign. I'm tired of being an actor. I'm going into the coal business," and he stopped making odd faces in the gla.s.s, practicing some facial contortions for a new clown act, and began to dress as though to go out.

"Hold on, C. C.; what's the matter?" asked Mr. Ringold.

"Plenty! If you think I'm going to run the risk of being burned to death you've got another guess coming. I'm through."

"Why, C. C.," spoke the theatrical manager, with a laugh; "there's no danger."

"Not in going into a burning building, even if it is only a fisherman's shanty! No danger!"

"No. Listen. You go in before the building is afire. The blaze is started from the outside by your enemy, and with some red fire, which makes a lot of smoke, we can show on the screen some pictures that will look like a real fire. Then out you rush, before the flames have had a chance to spread, and after you and the lady are safe, the fire gains great headway, and the cottage burns to the ground. But the pictures are being taken all the while, and it will show up great! There's not a bit of danger."

"Not that way," said Miss Lee. "I'm willing to do my part, Mr. Ringold."

"Well, I suppose I'll have to also," spoke C. C., with a sigh. "But I know something will happen. Some sparks will fall on me and scorch me, anyhow, I'm sure."

"Oh, Gloomy!" reproachfully exclaimed Miss Shay. "Do look on the bright side for once."

"There isn't any," a.s.serted the comedian, as he resumed his practice of making strange faces.

Mr. Ringold succeeded in purchasing, for a moderate sum, one of the older cottages, and it was put in shape for its share in the moving picture story, some changes being necessary. The fisherman and his family moved out, glad of the chance to better themselves.

"We won't say anything about planning to fire the shack," declared Mr.

Ringold to the boys and the members of his company. "If we do it will attract a crowd, and that's just what we don't want. The fewer the better. Now we'll go over to the shack, and have a rehearsal."

"A dress one?" asked Mr. Piper, meaning that everything would be done just as if the pictures were being taken. "You're not going to have the real fire now; are you?"

"No, indeed," said the manager. "We can only burn the cottage down once."

The rehearsal went off well, and Blake and Joe, who were to make the films, watched the work with interest. They were anxious for the time to come to set the fire.

"Well, I guess that will do," decided Mr. Ringold, after a day or two spent in getting the actors and actresses familiar with their parts.

"We'll do the business to-morrow morning."

Accordingly, they all a.s.sembled at the shack, and went through the various acts leading up to the fire scene. The boys ground away industriously at the handles of the moving picture cameras.

All went well until it came time to set the fire. Then, whether the building was older and more tinder-like than was supposed, or whether Mr. Levinberg, the "villain" who fired the shack, used too much red fire and kerosene, was not explained.

At any rate, the little building was more quickly wrapped in flame and smoke than was expected, and Mr. Ringold yelled excitedly:

"Come on out, C. C.! Don't wait any longer. Never mind if it isn't time!

Rush out with the girl before it's too late!"

"That's what I'll do!" cried the comedian, appearing in the doorway, carrying Miss Lee. There was little danger now, as long as he was in the open, unless some tongue of fire should catch the girl's dress.

"Hurry!" cried the manager, and C. C. sprinted out of the reach of the fire.

And then something entirely unexpected, and not down on the bill, happened. A number of fishermen, who had seen the blaze from down the beach, came running up, all excited, thinking the fire was an accident.

"Get that old pumping engine!" shouted one grizzled salt. "We'll have that blaze out in no time!"

"Form a bucket brigade!" suggested another.

"No! No! Let it burn!" cried Mr. Ringold. "We want it to burn!"

"Want it to burn?" was shouted at him, by the fisherman who had proposed the pump. "Be you plumb crazy? Come on, boys, form that bucket brigade.

Some of you run that hand-pump over here where we can pour water in the tank. Stretch the hose!"

"They'll spoil the picture!" cried Mr. Ringold, rushing about, and trying to keep the fishermen away.

Joe and Blake, not having orders to the contrary, and not knowing but what this was all part of the play, continued to grind away at their cameras, two reels of this play being taken, as an additional one was needed.

"Here she comes!" cried the fisherman, as some of his companions came rushing from a shed with an ancient style of hand fire-engine, consisting of a tank, on wheels, with a force-pump arrangement, worked by long handles. Water was poured in the tank by means of buckets, and forced out on the blaze through a hose.

"Bring her up as clost as ye kin!" directed the self-appointed chief of the amateur fire department; "'cause our hose ain't very long. Form lines now, and dip water up from the ocean. Salt water is good for fires!"

CHAPTER XIV

ATTACKED BY A SWORDFISH

"Don't do it!" cried Mr. Ringold. "Let that fire burn!"

But there were now so many fishermen rushing about here and there that they paid no attention to the excited theatrical man, who issued orders right and left.

"What shall we do?" demanded C. C., who had gotten off to one side with the girl he was supposed to have "rescued" from the burning cabin.

"I don't know!" cried Mr. Ringold. "The whole play is spoiled by those fellows b.u.t.ting in. Hi, there!" he called to Blake and Joe, as he saw them operating the cameras. "Stop the reel! We don't want any of this!"

The clicking machines grew silent, and then the boys knew that something was wrong.

Meanwhile, the hand engine was placed in position. It was learned, later, that the fish concern kept it for use in cases of emergency.

There had been some small blazes, in which the old engine had proved its worth.

The fishermen knew how to operate it to advantage, too, and soon a double line of them, extending from the surf to the tank, began pa.s.sing the filled buckets up one side and the empty ones down the other. As the tank filled, other men worked the handles and a stream of water was soon spurting on the fire.

"Quit it! Oh, quit it!" begged Mr. Ringold. "I want that shack to burn!"