The Moving Picture Girls at Oak Farm Part 12

Pertell wants to work them into some of the plays. There are some men spraying a potato patch over in the next field, to get rid of the bugs. I'm going to make a scene of that."

"All right. Good luck!" called Alice, pleasantly. "And, if you like, you can take a fis.h.i.+ng scene. Paul and I are going to catch some for supper."

"All right, I'll film you on the way back," laughed Russ.

It was a pleasant summer afternoon, and the bank where Alice and Paul took their places was bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

"The fish ought to bite well to-day," observed Paul, when he had "rigged up" an outfit for Alice.

"Why is to-day better than any other day?" she asked.

"Because the wind is right. 'When the wind's in the west, the fish bite best,' is an old saying. Sandy reminded me of it when I started out to-day."

They tossed in their hooks, and then waited. The water a little way below the eddy flowed over white stones, flecked here and there with green moss. The stream made a pleasant sound, and formed an accompaniment to the songs of the birds which flitted in and out of the willow trees that lined the stream.

At the foot of the bank, on which sat the two fishers, ran the deep eddy, silent, and whirling about in a circular motion, caused by the impact of the brook against the sh.o.r.e, the waters being forced back on themselves. It was a quiet, and rather still pool, and was reputed to contain many fine, large fish.

"I--I think I have a nibble," whispered Alice.

"Be careful--don't jerk up too soon," warned Paul. "Yes, there is one after your bait. See your cork float bob up and down."

"Does that show he's sampling it?"

"Something of that sort, yes. Now, pull in!"

Alice was a bit slow about it, for she had not fished much. Paul, fearing the fish would get away, reached over toward her, and took hold of the pole himself.

As he did so he felt the part of the shelving bank on which they were sitting give away.

"Look out! Throw yourself back!" he cried to Alice. But it was too late, and the next instant they both found themselves sliding down in a little avalanche of earth and stones--into the deep eddy.

"Hold your breath!" Alice heard Paul cry as a last direction, and she obeyed.

The next instant she felt herself in the water, and it closed over her head.

Alice could swim, and, after the plunge into the stream, she did not lose her head. She knew she would come up in a second, even though hampered by her clothes. Her only fear was lest she be entangled in the fish-line. And in another second she knew this was the case. She could feel her feet bound together. But her hands were free, and she had seen expert swimmers make their way through the water with their feet purposely bound.

She struck out with her hands, and found herself rising. Her lungs seemed ready to burst for want of air, for she had not had time to take a full breath.

Then her head shot up out of water, and she could breathe. She shook her head to get the water from her eyes, and saw Paul striking out toward her.

"I'll get you!" he cried, and then he uttered an exclamation of horror, for a log of wood, coming down stream, struck Alice on the head, and all grew black before her.

She felt herself sinking again, and tried to strike out to keep her head above the water, but it seemed impossible. Then she felt herself grasped in a strong arm, and she realized that Paul had come to her rescue.

At the same moment she dimly heard, in her returning consciousness, a voice crying something from the opposite sh.o.r.e.

CHAPTER X

THE BARN DANCE

Alice fought back with all her strength the inclination to faint, and forced her brain to compel her body to do its work. She did her best to aid Paul in the rescue, but he was having a hard struggle. For Alice was rather heavy, and her feet, entangled as they were with the fish line, were of no aid. Then, too, the blow on her head had not been a light one, though it developed later that her heavy hair had prevented the log from bruising her.

"I have you! Don't worry! I'll save you!" she could hear Paul murmuring in her ear. Then her head cleared, and she was able to recognize the voice and make out the words of someone on the opposite bank, toward which Paul was swimming with his burden.

For the voice was the voice of Russ Dalwood, and his words sounded strangely enough under the circ.u.mstances.

"That's it! Come right over here!" the young moving picture operator called. "I'm getting a dandy film! That's it, Paul, a little more to the left! That's the finest rescue scene I ever got! It's great acting!"

"Why--why you--you don't mean to say you're _filming_ us!" cried Paul, for he was now in shallow water and could stand upright, holding Alice in his arms.

"Of course I'm filming you!" exclaimed Russ. "Do you think I'd let an act like this get past me? Not much!" and he continued to grind away at the crank of his machine, which he had hastily set up on the edge of the stream, where he commanded a good view of those in the water.

"But this isn't acting!" said Paul, ready to laugh, now that the danger was over. "This is _real!_ Alice fell in, and I went in after her. It's the real thing!"

"Great Scott!" cried Russ. "I thought you were rehearsing for some play, and as I came along I thought I might as well get the scene, even if it was only a rehearsal. For I had plenty of film left, and sometimes the rehearsal comes out better than the real thing. And so it was an accident?"

"Of course it was," answered Paul. "But as long as you've got it on the film I suppose there's no help for it."

"It's a fine scene, all right," went on Russ, "and Mr. Pertell can work it into some of his plays." He ceased operating the camera now, as Paul and Alice were too close.

"Are you much hurt?" asked the young rescuer, anxiously, as he looked for a gra.s.sy spot whereon to place his burden.

"No--no," returned Alice, "I was more frightened than hurt. Will you please cut that line?" she asked, pointing to the tangle of the fish cord around her feet.

In an instant Paul had out his knife, and cut the string.

"Well, you two are pretty wet," said Russ. "How did it happen?"

"The bank gave way with us," explained Paul. "It's too bad, Alice.

That dress is spoiled, I'm afraid," he added, ruefully.

"It doesn't matter," she answered. She could laugh now, but she could not repress a shudder as she looked back at the deep water of the eddy. They were on the other side of the stream now.

"It was an old one, Paul," Alice went on, "and I can save it to do some more water-scenes with. For probably, after Mr. Pertell hears that Russ has the basis for a drama with someone in it being saved from drowning, he'll want the rest, and we may have to do some more swimming."

"I wouldn't mind in the least," he said; "but next time I hope, for your own sake, you don't get entangled in a fish line."

"That was pretty risky," said Russ. "But you two had better be getting back to the farmhouse now, and into some dry things."

"Indeed, yes," agreed Alice. "I'm sure I must look like a fright.

Papa will be so worried, and Ruth, too. I wish I could slip in the back way so they wouldn't see me until I had time to change."

"I'll manage it," spoke Russ. "I'll go on ahead, and if any of our folks are in the back I'll bring them around to the front and hold them there while you slip in. I guess, Paul, you don't care to be seen in that rig; do you?"