The Moving Picture Girls Snowbound

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"There ought to be a private bath for each one," declared Miss
Pennington, as she surveyed her room.

"Indeed there ought," agreed her friend Miss Dixon. "I think this place
is horrid!"

"How thoughtless and selfish they are," said Ruth, who shared a room
with Alice.

"Aren't they! I think it's lovely here. Oh, but I am so hungry!"

"So am I, dear."

"Glad to hear it for once, Ruth. Usually you have so little appetite
that one would think you were in love."

"Silly! I'm going to eat to-night anyhow."

"Does that mean you are _not_ in love?"

"Silly!" cried Ruth again, but that was all she answered.

What a glorious and home-like place Elk Lodge was! Yes, even better than
the best home the moving picture girls had known most of their lives,
for they had spent part of the time boarding, as their father traveled
about with his theatrical company, and who can compare a home to a
boarding house?

Down in the big living room a fire burned and crackled, and gave out
spicy odors on the great hearth that took in logs six feet long. And how
cheerfully and ruddily the blaze shone out! It mellowed and cheered
everyone. Even Mr. Sneed smiled, and stretched out his hands to the
leaping flames.

As Ruth and Alice were about to go down, having called to their father
across the hall that they were ready for him, there came a knock on
their door.

"Come in!" invited Ruth.

"Sorry to trouble you," spoke Miss Pennington, "but have you any cold
cream and--er--powder? Our things were left in the other sled--I mean
all of those things, and Laura and I can't--we simply can't get along
without them."

"I have cold cream," said Alice. "But powder--that is unless it's talcum
or rice----"

"That will have to do I guess," sighed the vaudeville actress. "But I
did hope you had a bit of rouge, I'm so pale!"

"Never use it!" said Alice quickly. Too quickly, hospitable Ruth
thought, for, though she decried the use of "paint," she would not be
rude to a guest, and, under these circumstances Miss Pennington was a
guest.

"You don't need it," the caller said, with a glance at Alice's glowing
cheeks, to whom the wind and snow had presented two damask spots that
were most becoming.

"The weather is very chapping to my face," the former vaudeville actress
went on. "I really must have something," and she departed with the cold
cream and some harmless rice powder, which Ruth and Alice used
judiciously and sparingly, and only when needed.

The fine supper, late as it was, necessarily, was enjoyed to the utmost.
It was bountiful and good, and though at first Miss Pennington and Miss
Dixon were inclined to sniff at the lack of "courses," and the absence
of lobster, it was noticed that they ate heartily.

"There is only one thing more I want," sighed Paul, as he leaned back in
his chair.

"What, pray? It seems to me, and I have been watching you, that you have
had about all that is good for you," laughed Alice. "I have seen you get
three separate and distinct helpings of fried chicken."

"Oh, I didn't mean anything more to eat," he said, quickly, "and if you
are going to watch me so closely I shall have to cut down my rations, I
fear. What I meant was that I would like a moving picture of this
supper. It has memories that long will linger, but I fain would have a
souvenir of it."

"Be careful that you don't get indigestion as a souvenir," laughed
Alice, as he followed her sister from the table.

The dining room opened off the great living apartment with that
wonderful fire, and following the meal all the members of the company
gathered about the hearth.

Outside the storm still raged, and Mr. Macksey, who came in from having
with his men, put away the horses, reported that the blizzard was
growing worse.

"It's a good thing we thought of changing the bobs and coming on," he
said. "Otherwise we might be there yet."

"What really happened?" asked his wife. "I was telling one of the young
ladies that it was like pulling teeth to get any news out of you."

"Oh, we just had a little breakdown," he said. "Now, folks, just make
yourselves at home. Go to bed when you like, get up when you please.
I'll try and get the rest of your baggage here some time to-morrow, if
this storm lets up."

"I hope you do get it," complained Miss Pennington.

"Selfish thing!" whispered Alice. "All she wants is her paint!"

"Hush," cautioned Ruth. "She'll hear you!"

"I don't care," voiced her sister.

They talked of many things as they sat about the fire, and then Mr.
Pertell said:

"We will film no dramas while the storm continues, but as soon as we can
get out on the ice I want to start one."

"Is there skating about here?" asked Alice, who was very fond of the
sport.

"There's a fine lake back of the lodge," replied Mr. Macksey, "and as
soon as the storm lets up I'll have the men clear a place of snow, and
you can have all the fun you want."

"Oh, joy!" cried Alice.

"Save me the first skate," whispered Paul to her, and she nodded
acquiescence.

Mr. Pertell briefly outlined the drama he expected to film on the ice,
and then, after a little more talk, every one voted that bed was the
best place in the world. For the wind had made them all sleepy, and they
were tired out from the storm and their long journey.

Alice and Ruth went up to their room. Alice pulled aside the curtain
from the window and looked out on a scene of swirling whiteness. The
flakes dashed against the pane as though knocking for admission.

"It's a terrible night," said Ruth, with a little shiver.

"Well, much as I like weather, I wouldn't want to be out in it long,"
Alice confessed. "Elk Lodge is a very good place in a blizzard."

"Suppose we got snowed in?" asked Ruth, apprehensively.

"Then we'll dig our way out--simple answer. Oh dear!" and Alice yawned
luxuriously, if not politely, showing her pretty teeth.

In spite of the portentous nature of the storm, it was not fully borne
out, and morning saw the sun shining on the piles of snow that had
fallen. There had been a considerable quantity sifted down on what was
already about Elk Lodge, but there was not enough to hinder traffic for
the sturdy lumbermen and hunters of that region.

The wind had died down, and it was not cold, so when Mr. Macksey
announced that he was going back after the broken-down sleigh, Ruth and
Alice asked permission to accompany him.

Before starting off Mr. Macksey had set a gang of men, hired for the
occasion, to scraping the snow off the frozen lake, and when Ruth and
Alice came back they found several of the picture players skating,
while Russ was getting ready to film one of the first scenes of the
drama.

"You're in this, Mr. Sneed," said the manager. "You are supposed to be
skating along, when you trip and fall breaking your leg----"

"Hold on--stop--break my leg! Never!" cried the grouchy actor.

"Of course you don't really injure yourself!" exclaimed the manager,
testily.

"Oh, why did I ever come to this miserable place!" sighed Mr. Sneed. "I
despise cold weather!"

But there was no help for it. Soon he was on the steel runners gliding
about, while Russ filmed him. Mr. Sneed was a good skater, and was not
averse to "showing off."

"All ready, now!" called the manager to him. "Get that fall in right
there. Russ, be ready for him!"

"Oh!" groaned the actor. "Here I go!"

And, as luck would have it, he, at that moment, tripped on a stick, and
fell in earnest. It was much better done than if he had simulated it.

But something else happened. He fell so heavily, and at a spot where
there was a treacherous air hole, that, the next instant Mr. Sneed broke
through the ice, and was floundering in the chilly water.

CHAPTER XII

THE CURIOUS DEER

"Quick! A rope!"

"No, boards are better!"

"Fence rails will do!"

"Oh, get him out, someone!"

These were only some of the cries uttered, following the accident to Mr.
Sneed. Meanwhile he was doing his best to keep himself above water by
grasping the edge of the ice.

But it crumbled in his fingers, and he was so shocked by the sudden
immersion, and by the cold, and his skates were so heavy on his feet,
that he went down again and again. Fortunately the lake was not deep at
that point, and as he went down his feet would touch bottom, and he
could spring up again.

"Don't go out there!" warned Mr. Pertell, as Paul started for the spot.

"Why not?" asked the young actor.

"Because the ice is probably thin all around that place. I don't want
two of you in. Hold on, Mr. Sneed!" he cried to the desperate actor.
"We'll have you out in no time!"

"Shall I get this?" cried Russ, who had not deserted his camera, even as
a gunner will not leave his cannon, nor a captain his ship. More than
once brave moving picture operators have stood in the face of danger to
get rare views.

"Yes, get every motion of it!" cried the manager.

"But it isn't in the play!"

"I don't care! We'll write it in afterward. You get the pictures and
we'll rescue Mr. Sneed. Hi, there, Mr. Bunn, you must help with this.
Get some fence rails! We can slide them out on the ice and they will
distribute the weight so that the ice will hold us."

"But where will I get fence rails?" asked the actor.

"Oh, gnaw them out of a tree!" cried Mr. Pertell, who was much disturbed
and nervous. "Don't you see that fence?" he cried, pointing to one not
far off. "Get some rails from that. And then get in the picture!"

"Oh, such a life!" groaned Mr. Bunn.

"This is to save a life!" the manager reminded him.

And while Russ continued to make moving pictures of the unexpected
scene, the others set about the work of rescue. Later this could be
interpolated in the drama to make it appear as though it had all been
arranged in advance.

"Hurry with those rails!" called Mr. Pertell to Mr. Bunn. "He can't stay
in that icy water forever."

Some of the men who had been working at removing the snow now came up
with ropes and trace chains. Then, when the rails were spread out on the
ice, near the air hole, the rescuers were able to get near enough to
throw the ends of several lines to Mr. Sneed. He managed to grasp one,
and, a moment later was hauled out on the ice.

"I--I--I'm c-c-c-cold!" he stammered, as he stood with the icy water
dripping from him.

"Shouldn't wonder but what you were," agreed Mr. Pertell. "Now the thing
for you to do is to run to the Lodge as fast as you can. Here, Mr. Bunn,
you and Paul run alongside him, with a hold on either arm. We'll call
this film 'A Modern Pickwick,' instead of what we planned. In Dickens'
story there's a scene somewhat like this. We'll change the whole thing
about.

"Russ, you go on ahead, and when Paul and Mr. Bunn come along with Mr.
Sneed, you get them as they run."

"All right," assented the young moving picture operator, as he kept on
grinding away at the crank.

Exercise was the best thing to restore the circulation of the actor who
had fallen into the water, and he soon had plenty of it. With Paul on
one side, and Mr. Bunn on the other, he was raced back to Elk Lodge, and
there he was supplied plentifully with hot lemonade to ward off a cold.
Russ got interior pictures of these scenes as well, and later the film
made a great success.

"In view of the accident, and the fact that you are all more or less
upset," said Mr. Pertell, when some of the excitement had calmed down,
"we will give up work for the rest of the day. You may do as you please
until to-morrow."

"Then I'm going for a walk," cried Alice.

"I'm with you," spoke Paul, "only we ought to have snowshoes."

"Oh, could we get any?" she cried.

"I can arrange for some for you," promised Mr. Macksey, "but I haven't
any now."

"Good idea!" exclaimed the manager. "An idea for a new film--'The
Snowshoe Rescue!' Here, Russ, make some notes of this for future use,"
and he began to dictate to the young operator, who with his employer
frequently thus improvised dramas out of a mere suggestion.

"If you want to walk," said Mr. Macksey to Alice, "you'd better stick
to the road. The men have been out with homemade snowplows breaking a
trail. That's what we do around here after a storm. You'd better stick
to the road."

"We will!" cried Alice. "Will you come, Ruth?"

"Later perhaps--not now. I want to study a new part I have."

"I suppose you're waiting for Russ," whispered Alice.

"Don't be silly!" flashed Ruth. But she did not go out with her sister.

Alice and Paul had a glorious walk in the snow, and saw a beautiful
country, even though it was hidden under a mantle of white. For
Deerfield was a lovely place.

"Aren't you cold?" asked Ruth, when her sister returned.

"Not a bit. It's glorious. What did you do, and how is Mr. Sneed?"

"He's doing nicely, I believe. As for me, I stayed in. I had some
mending to do."

"Is that why Russ has threads on his coat sleeve--was it his coat you
were mending?"

"Oh, Alice--you are hopeless!" protested Ruth, but she blushed vividly.

That afternoon, as Mrs. Macksey was overseeing the getting of supper,
Alice, who went to the kitchen for something, heard the veteran hunter
and his wife in conversation.

"You say they are strangers about here?" he asked.

"Yes, three men. I saw them after you had gone to the station to get the
moving picture folks. There were three men, and I think they were after
deer."

"After deer, eh? Don't they know that this is a private preserve?"

"They didn't seem to care. They came to ask their direction. They all
had guns, and I'm sure they were after deer."

"And you never saw them before?"

"No, I never did."

"And you have no idea where they came from?"

"I couldn't tell--no. I heard one of them ask the other if he thought it
was safe."

"If what was safe?"

"He didn't say. Maybe he meant to hunt deer around here."

"It won't be safe if I catch them!" declared Mr. Macksey, as he went
out. Alice wondered who the men could be.

It was so quiet and peaceful at Elk Lodge that Mr. DeVere soon forgot
all about the annoyance caused by the demand of Dan Merley for the five
hundred dollars. At first he had expected some sort of legal summons in
a suit, but when none came he breathed easier.

Several days passed, and a few snow scenes were filmed to be used later,
and worked into dramas. Mr. Sneed suffered a little cold from his
unexpected bath, but that was all.

Meanwhile the weather had remained about the same. There was plenty of
snow, but no more storms. Elk Lodge was voted the finest place in the
world, and even Miss Pennington and Miss Dixon condescended to say that
they liked it.

Then, one day, plans were made for filming a little drama in the snowy
woods, and thither many members of the company went to act.

Ruth was supposed to be lost in a dense thicket, and Paul was soon on
his way to find her, in the guise of a woodman. He had sighted Ruth,
over a clump of bushes, and was making his way to her, when he heard her
scream. This was not in the play and he wondered what could have
happened.

"Quick!" he heard her cry. "He's going to jump at me!"

Paul broke into a run, and the next moment saw a deer, with large,
branching antlers, spring through the underbrush directly in front of
Ruth, while Russ, at the camera, yelled to drive away the curious
animal.

CHAPTER XIII

THE COASTING RACE

"Oh, I'm so frightened!" cried Ruth.

"Don't be alarmed!" Russ called to her, while he continued to grind away
at the camera. "He won't hurt you. This will make a dandy picture! I'm
going to film the deer."

"Oh, but suppose he jabs me with his horns?" wailed Ruth, who was not
quite so alarmed now. "They are terribly sharp."

"Don't worry!" Russ answered. "This is coming out great. The deer was
just the one thing needed to make this film a success."

"Then I won't spoil it by coming in now!" called Paul, who was keeping
out of the focus of the camera by crouching down behind some bushes. He
had heard what Russ said, and had given up his plan of rushing to rescue
Ruth. Evidently there was no need.

The deer, strange to say, did not seem at all alarmed, and stood gazing
at Ruth with great brown eyes. She too, realizing that she was not to
be harmed, acted more naturally now, and with an appreciation of what
was needed to make the film a proper one.

She first "registered" fear, and then delighted surprise, at seeing the
animal.

I might explain that in making moving pictures certain directions are
given to the actors. As they can not depend on speaking words to let the
audiences know what is going on, they must intimate, by appropriate
gesture, or facial expression, the action of the play. This is called
"registering," and when in the directions, or scenario, an actor or
actress is told to "register" fear, surprise, anger, love, jealousy--in
fact any of the emotions--he or she knows what is meant.

In this case Ruth was without specific directions save those called out
by Russ. And often, in an emergency a good moving picture camera
operator can save a film from being spoiled by improvising some "stage
directions," if I may call them such.

"Shall I approach him, Russ?" Ruth asked, as she saw that the deer
showed no intentions of fleeing.

"Yes, if he'll let you. It will make a dandy scene."

"Not too close," cautioned Paul, who was still out of sight behind the
bushes, waiting until he could properly come into the scene. "He might
accidentally hit you with a sweep of his horns."

"I'll be careful," answered Ruth. "I believe the poor thing is hungry."

"If we only had something to feed him!" exclaimed Russ. "That would work
in fine."

"I have some lumps of sugar," said Ruth, speaking with her head turned
aside. The reason for this was that she did not want the movement of her
lips to show on the film, and the camera will catch and fix even that
slight motion.

The reason Ruth spoke aside was because the little scene was being
improvised, and she had no proper lines to speak. And, as I have already
explained, often persons in the audience of a moving picture theatre are
able to understand what is said, merely by watching the lips of the
performers on the screen.

"Sugar! Good!" cried Russ. "See if he'll take it. I don't know what deer
like best, but if they're anything like horses they'll revel in sugar.
Go ahead!"

Ruth had in her pocket some lumps she had intended giving to the horses
attached to the sleds in which they had come to the woods. She now took
out some of these and held them out to the timid deer.

The beautiful creature, made bold, perhaps, by hunger, came a step
nearer.

"Oh, that's fine!" cried Russ, squinting through the focusing tube to
get clear, sharp impressions on the film. "Keep at it, Ruth."

The deer came nearer, thrusting forth its velvet nose. It sniffed at the
sugar Ruth held, and then put out its lips and tongue and picked up the
lumps.

"Fine!" cried Russ. "Maybe he'd like salt better, for I've read of
salt-licks that animals visit, but sugar will do on a pinch; won't it,
old fellow?"

Perhaps it was the loud, laughing voice that Russ used, or it may have
been because there was no more sugar, but, at any rate, the deer, after
taking the sweet lumps gave a sudden turn, and rushed off through the
bushes, going rather slowly because of the deep snow.

Russ caught every motion of the graceful creature, however, and called
out to Ruth to pose with her hand shaded over her eyes, as though she
were looking after the deer. She did this, and that ended the little
scene with the timid woodland creature, who, if he ever saw moving
pictures, would doubtless be very much surprised to perceive a
presentment of himself on the screen.

"Come on now, Paul!" called Russ, indicating to the young actor to show
himself so that he would get into the picture.

The other players who had come up on hearing Ruth call out were now
ready for their parts in the play. They had kept out of sight of the
camera, however, so as not to spoil the picture.

"Very well done!" declared Mr. Pertell, when Ruth had finished her part
in the play. "That deer will make a very effective picture, I think."

"It was a dear deer!" punned Alice, and the others laughed.

On the way back to Elk Lodge the manager made an announcement that
interested all in the company, the young people especially.

"I have a drama," he said, "that calls for a coasting race in one scene.
I wonder if we couldn't do that to-morrow."

"Oh, riding down hill!" cried Alice, with girlish enthusiasm. "What fun!
May I steer a bob?"

"Alice, you never could!" cried Ruth.

"Pooh! I've done it lots of times!" her sister answered.

"Yes, when you were a little girl, perhaps, with two sleds held
together," laughed Mr. Pertell. "This will be different. Mr. Macksey
tells me he has two big, old-fashioned bobsleds in one of the barns.
Now I think we can get up two parties and have a big coasting race. The
play calls for it, and the young men who steer the bobs are rivals for
the hand of the same girl. She has made a condition that whoever gets
first to the bottom of the big hill may marry her. So you see the plan
of the play."

"Me for a bob!" cried Paul.

"I wish I didn't have to film the play--I'd steer one, too!" exclaimed
Russ, with a look at Ruth that made her blush.

"Must I get into this silly coasting play?" asked Mr. Bunn.

"You surely must," answered Mr. Pertell. "And I want to warn you of one
thing--you are not to wear a high hat--it would only blow off and
embarrass you."

"Not wear my high hat? Then I refuse to take part!" cried the tragic
actor.

But Mr. Pertell paid no attention to him, for he had heard the same
thing before.

The details of the coasting race were discussed on the way to Elk Lodge,
and it was arranged that a partial rehearsal should be held next day.

That night, as Alice and Ruth were going to bed rather early, on account
of the wearying work of the day, they heard voices out in the hall near
their room.

"Listen!" warned Alice, raising her finger, for Ruth was talking.

"It's Mr. and Mrs. Macksey," said Ruth.

"I know. But what are they saying? It's something about those strange
hunters who were seen about here once before."

Mr. Macksey, who had been summoned to the upper hall by his wife to fix
a broken window, was speaking in his deep voice.

"So those fellows were around again; eh?" he asked.

"Yes, and I don't like it, Jake," Mrs. Macksey replied. "You know what
it means if they kill any of the club deer. It may cost you your place
here. The members of the club may say you were not careful enough."

"That's so, wife. I reckon I'd better look after those chaps. If they're
trespassing on Elk Lodge I can have them arrested anyhow."

The next day was clear and calm, just right for taking pictures, and
after breakfast the entire company went out on the hill where the
bobsled race was to take place.

The hill had been prepared in advance by men from Elk Lodge, so that the
sleds would attain good speed. The snow had been packed down, and a
place made for Russ to set up his camera.

"Paul, you will steer one bob," said Mr. Pertell, as he was arranging
the affair, "and Mr. Sneed will take the other."

"What, me steer a bobsled down that hill?" cried the grouchy actor, as
he looked at the steep slope.

"Of course," said the manager.

"Something is sure to happen," declared Mr. Sneed.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. Pertell. "All you have to do is to keep the
wheel steady."

The company of players, with a number of men from Elk Lodge, added to
fill the bobs, now divided themselves into two parties. Ruth was to go
on the sled with Mr. Sneed, and sit directly behind him so as to show
well in the camera. Alice was to ride next to Paul on the other sled.
The bobs were long ones, with bells and large steering wheels in front.

"All ready?" called Mr. Pertell, when the players were seated.

"All ready!" cried Russ, indicating that the camera was prepared.

"Go!" ordered the manager, and the men detailed to push the bobs shoved
them ahead. The moving picture coasting race was on.

CHAPTER XIV

ON SNOWSHOES

"Here we go!"

"Hold on tight, everybody!"

"Let's see if we can't win!"

With shouts and laughter the merry coasters thus enlivened the race down
hill. In order to make the moving pictures appear as realistic as
possible Mr. Pertell had told the players to forget, for the time being,
that they were actors, and to imagine that they were just boys and
girls, out for a real frolic.

"And I'm sure I feel like one!" cried Alice, as she clung to the sides
of the bob, where she sat behind Paul.

"That's the way to talk!" he laughed. "Look out for yourself now, we're
going to bump!"

At that moment they came to a "thank-ye-ma'am," as they are called in
the country.

This is a ridge, or bump in the road, made to keep the rain water from
rushing down the highway too fast. The ridge turns the water to one
side.

As Paul spoke the sled reached this place, rose into the air, and came
down heavily.

"Gracious!" cried Alice. "I was nearly bounced off!"

"I warned you!" laughed Paul. "There's another one just below. Watch out
for it."

Paul's sled was a little ahead of the one steered by Mr. Sneed, and the
latter was unaware of the treacherous nature of the road. So he did not
warn his fellow coasters. The result was that two of those on the rear
fell off, but as they landed in soft snow they were not hurt.

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