The Moving Picture Boys on the War Front Part 5

"That's so!" exclaimed Joe. "Say, wouldn't it be great if we could get one?"

"One what?" asked Blake, who was reading over again certain parts of Mr.

Hadley's letter.

"A submarine. I mean film one as it sent a torpedo to blow us out of the water. Wouldn't it be great if we could get that?"

"It would if the torpedo didn't get us first!" grimly replied Blake. "I guess I wouldn't try that if I were you."

"I'm going to, if I get a chance," Joe declared. "It would make a great film, even a few feet of it. We could sell it to one of the motion weeklies for a big sum."

"It's hardly worth the risk," said Blake, "and we're going to have plenty of risks on the other side, I guess."

"Does Mr. Hadley say how we are to go?" asked Joe.

"From New York to Halifax, of course, and from there over to England.

They search the ship for contraband at Halifax, I believe, or put her through some official form.

"From England we'll go to France and then be taken to the front. Just what will happen when we get on the other side n.o.body knows, I guess.

We're to report at General Pershing's headquarters, and somebody there, who has this stunt in hand, will take charge of us. After that it's up to you and Charles and me, Joe."

"Yes, I suppose it is. Well, we'll do our best!"

"Sure thing!" a.s.sented Blake.

"We will if some ninny of a frog-skinning Frenchman doesn't try to ram us with an airship!" growled Macaroni. He had never gotten over the accident.

"I believe you are growing childish, Mac!" snapped Blake, in unusual ill-humor.

The last of the army camp films had been made and sent in safety to the studios in New York, where the negatives would be developed, the positives, printed by electricity, cut and pasted to make an artistic piece of work, and then they would be ready for display throughout the United States, gaining recruits for Uncle Sam, it was hoped.

Blake and Joe said good-bye to the friends they had made at the Wrightstown camp, and, with Macaroni, proceeded to Manhattan. There they were met by Mr. Hadley, who gave them their final instructions and helped them to get their outfits ready.

"We'll take the regular cameras," said Blake, as he and Joe talked it over together, "and also the two small ones that we can strap on our backs."

"Better take the midget, too," suggested Joe.

"That's too small," objected the lanky helper. "It really is intended for aeroplane work."

"Well, we may get some of that," went on Joe. "I'm game to go up if they want me to."

"That's right!" chimed in Blake. "I didn't think about that. We may have to make views from up near the clouds. Well, we did it once, and we can do it again. Pack the midget, Charlie."

So the small camera went into the outfit that was being made ready for the steamer. As Blake had said, he and his partner had, on one occasion, gone up in a military airship from Governor's Island, to make some views of the harbor. The experience had been a novel one, but the machine was so big, and they flew so low, that there was no discomfort or danger.

"But if we have to go over the German lines, in one of those little machines that only hold two, well, I'll hold my breath--that's all!"

declared Joe.

Finally the last of the flank films and the cameras had been packed, the boys had been given their outfits, letters of introduction, pa.s.sports, and whatever else it was thought they would need. They had bidden farewell to the members of the theatrical film company; and some of the young actresses did not try to conceal their moist eyes, for Blake and Joe were general favorites.

"Well, do the best you can," said C. C. Piper to them, as he and some others accompanied the boys to the pier "somewhere in New York."

"We will," promised Blake.

"And if we don't meet again in this world," went on the tragic comedian, "I'll hope to meet you in another--if there is one."

"Cheerful chap, you are!" said Blake. "Don't you think we'll come back?"

Christopher Cutler Piper shook his head.

"You'll probably be blown up if a sh.e.l.l doesn't get you," he said. "The mortality on the Western front is simply frightful, and the percentage is increasing every day."

"Say, cut it out!" advised Charlie Anderson. "Taking moving pictures over there isn't any more dangerous than filming a fake battle here when some chump of an actor lets off a smoke bomb with a short fuse!"

At this reference to the rather risky trick C. C. had once tried, there was a general laugh, and amid it came the cry:

"All aboard! All ash.o.r.e that's going ash.o.r.e!"

The warning bells rang, pa.s.sengers gathered up the last of their belongings, friends and relatives said tearful or cheerful good-byes, and the French liner, which was to bear the moving picture boys to Halifax, and then to England, was slowly moved away from her berth by pushing, fussing, steaming tugs.

"Well, we're off!" observed Blake.

"That's so," agreed Joe. "And I'm glad we've started."

"You aren't the only ones who have done that," said Macaroni. "Somebody else has started with you!"

"Who?"

For answer the lanky helper pointed across the deck. There, leaning up against a lifeboat, was Lieutenant Secor, smoking a cigarette and seemingly unconscious of the presence of the moving picture boys.

CHAPTER V

ANXIOUS DAYS

For a moment even Blake, cool as he usually was, seemed to lose his head. He started in the direction of the Frenchman, against whom their suspicions were directed, thinking to speak to him, when Joe sprang from his chair.

"I'll show him!" exclaimed Blake's chum and partner, and this served to make Blake himself aware of the danger of acting too hastily. Quickly Blake put out his hand and held Joe back.

"What's the matter?" came the sharp demand. "I want to go and ask that fellow what he means by following us!"

"I wouldn't," advised Blake, and now he had control of his own feelings.

"Why not?"

"Because," answered Blake slowly, as he smiled at his chum, "he might, with perfect truth and considerable reason, say it was none of your business."