The work of making the preliminary scenes of the sea drama were under way. It took the best part of three weeks to get what was needed, for Mr. Ringold was very particular, and insisted on many rehearsals, these taking longer than the actual making of the films.

Joe and Blake were kept busy, as was also their young assistant, Macaroni, and Mr. Hadley.

"Everything is going beautifully," said Mr. Ringold one day. "If we could only have a storm and wreck to order, now, I would ask nothing better."

"Yes, everything is nice, except that we're being worked to death," spoke C. C. Piper, gloomily. "I've lost ten pounds in the last week."

"It will do you good," said Miss Lee, with a laugh. "You were getting too stout, anyhow."

"Oh, what a world!" sighed the comedian, as he began whistling the latest comic song.

"It looks like a storm," remarked Blake, as he and Joe came in one evening from a stroll on the beach.

"And when it does come," added Joe, "it's going to be a bad one, so old Abe, the fisherman, says. They're putting storm signals up all along the coast, and all leaves of absence for the life guards have been cancelled for the next week. A storm sometimes lasts that long, Abe says."

"A storm; eh?" remarked Mr. Ringold, absentmindedly. "Well, that will interfere with our plans for to-morrow. I had intended to have some peaceful scenes on the beach; but I'll postpone them. I wish I could work out this wreck problem," he added, as he pored over the manuscript of the sea drama.

One did not need to go outdoors that morning to appreciate the fury of the storm. The gale had come in the night, and the force of the wind had steadily increased until its violence was terrific. There was no rain, as yet, but the sky was obscured by hurrying black clouds.

"Let's go down to the beach and see the big waves," proposed Blake to Joe after breakfast.

"All right," agreed his chum. "There won't be anything doing in the moving picture line to-day, I guess."

"Say, that's some surf!" cried Joe in his chum's ear, as they got to the sandy stretch. "Look at those waves!"

"I guess they're what you call 'mountain high,'" answered Blake, himself yelling, for their ordinary voices could not be heard above the thunder of the surf and the roar of the gale.

They stood for a few minutes watching the big rollers pounding on the sand, and then, looking down the strand, they saw a figure running toward them.

"Here comes a life guard," remarked Joe.

"And he acts as if something was up," added Blake.

Nearer came the man, dressed in yellow oilskins, for the spray from the sea flew far inland, almost like rain. Joe and Blake had on rubber coats.

"What is it?" cried Blake, as the man came opposite.

He held his hands in funnel shape and yelled:

"A wreck—a big sailing vessel is coming ashore! Her masts are gone, and she can't get off! She'll strike soon. I want all the men I can get to help us with the breeches buoy. We can't launch our boat—too heavy surf!"



CHAPTER XXIII

THE DOOMED VESSEL

"You say there's a wreck?" cried Blake.

"Yes, we just made her out through the glass. She's driving on the rocks fast. The current is setting inshore and the wind is helping it."

"Where is she?" asked Joe.

"Right down there," answered the life guard. "But she'll come up farther this way," and he pointed down toward the rocks opposite which the boys had first surprised the wreckers at work.

"I've got to give the alarm," went on the life saver. "We need all the help we can get. We're short-handed, anyhow, and two of our men were hurt early this morning trying to launch the surf-boat."

"Can't you get some of the fishermen from around here?" asked Joe.

"That's what I came for."

"And we'll help, too!" cried Blake, bracing himself by leaning against the wind, which seemed to grow stronger every minute.

"Sure we will," added Joe. "Can you see the vessel?" he asked, peering eagerly into the spume and spray.

"Maybe she's drifted far enough up by now," went on the coast guard, as he looked intently in the direction he had pointed. "Yes," he cried a moment later, "I can catch glimpses of her at times, when the waves go down a bit. See! There she is now!"

Looking in the direction the guard pointed, Blake and Joe caught a glimpse of a distant black object rising and falling at the mercy of the wind and waves. It was the hull of a vessel, and when Blake used the glass the guard handed him a moment later, he could see the jagged stumps of broken masts.

"She's in a bad way," remarked the lad, gravely.

"Indeed she is," assented the life saver.

"I wonder if my father is in any such storm as this, on his way to China?" mused Joe, as he, too, looked through the binoculars.

"It's a bad storm—and a big one, too," said the guard. "But I must hurry on and give the alarm to the fishermen. The ship will strike soon, and we want to send a line aboard if we can."

"Wait!" cried Blake, as the man started off. "We'll tell the fishermen. You can go back to the station. We'll come to help as soon as we can, and bring all the men we can find."

"Good!" shouted the man. "It'll take some time to get the apparatus in shape, and we'll have to drag it up the beach from the station, to about the place where she'll come on the rocks. Go ahead, give the alarm, and I'll go back. Whew! But this is a fierce storm!"

"Come on!" cried Blake to his chum, and they raced toward the little fishing hamlet.

"Say!" shouted Joe. "I've got an idea!"

"What is it?"

"The wreck—it'll come close on shore, the guard says; why not make some moving pictures of it? They'll be just what Mr. Hadley wants."

"That's it!" yelled Blake. "You've struck it. Go on and tell Mr. Ringold, Mr. Hadley and the others, and I'll get the fishermen. Then we'll go down the beach until we meet the life savers. It's a great chance, Joe!"

The lads separated, one to arouse the fishermen, most of whom were in their shacks, for it was out of the question to lift the nets in the tremendous seas that were running.

"Come on!" cried Blake, as he saw old Abe Haskill come out to look at the weather. "Wreck—ship coming ashore. The coast guards need help!"

"Aye, aye, lad. We're with you!" cried the sturdy old man. "I'll get the boys. A wreck; eh? Pity the poor sailors that come ashore in such a blow!"

Having given the alarm, Blake turned back to join his chum and the others of the theatrical colony.

"We may need all three cameras," he reasoned; "it is such a good chance we don't want to risk it on one film."

Blake found Mr. Hadley and his chum, with the theatrical manager and the male members of the company, ready to set out. Joe had his own camera, while Mr. Hadley was getting the largest one in readiness.

"Let's take the automatic, too," suggested Joe. "We can start it going and not have to worry about it."

"All right," agreed Blake.

"Say, this is the very chance we wanted!" cried Mr. Ringold. "Think of it! A regular wreck, right at our doors!"

"Oh, but the poor sailors!" exclaimed Miss Shay. "I do hope they may be saved!"

"Of course they can!" cried C. C. Piper. "We'll all help. Never fear; we'll save them!"

His tone and manner, to say nothing of his words, were in such contrast to his usual demeanor that everyone looked at his or her neighbor in surprise.

"Don't give up!" went on the comedian, cheerfully. "We'll help the life guards—we'll do anything. We'll save those sailors!"

"Well, get on to Gloomy; would you!" exclaimed Joe, in a low voice, to his chum. "That is the best ever! It's the first time he hasn't predicted a calamity."

"And just when anyone else would," added Blake. "For it sure is going to be hard work to save anyone from a vessel that comes ashore in such a storm as this," and he looked toward the tumbling billows in view from the windows.

Films were threaded into the moving picture cameras, the mechanism was tested, and then the whole company, even to the ladies, set forth.

"I hope the wreck gets near enough so we can get some good pictures of it," said Mr. Ringold.

"It'll have to come pretty well in shore, or the breeches buoy rope won't reach," said Mr. Hadley. "I guess we can get some good pictures."

"It's good it doesn't rain," went on the theatrical man; "though I think it's going to, soon. We'll have to get up on some elevation to avoid the spray."

Down the beach they made their way, to be joined presently by the band of sturdy fishermen.

"There she is!" cried old Abe, as he pointed out to sea. "There she is, blowing and drifting in fast. And right toward the Dolphin Rocks, too—the worst place on the beach!" They all gazed toward the doomed vessel, that was now much nearer shore. Blake even thought he could descry figures on deck, clinging to the stumps of masts.



CHAPTER XXIV

OUT OF THE WRECK

"Here come the life savers!" cried Blake a little later, as through the spray that flew over the beach a party of men, in yellow oilskins, could be seen dragging something over the sand.

"Yes, and few enough of 'em there are to do the work," said old Abe Haskill. "The government ought to put more men at the station."

"Some were hurt, trying to launch the boat this morning," said Joe.

"Very likely," agreed the old fisherman. "The sea can be cruel when it wants to."

"And there comes Tom Cardiff!" added Blake, as he pointed to another oncoming figure.

"Yes, and Harry Stanton is with him," remarked Abe. "They must have left the lighthouse to look after itself, and they're going to help in the rescue."

"No danger to the light, now that them pesky wreckers have been caught," remarked one of the fishermen.

"Boom!" came a dull report over the waste of tumultuous waters.

"What's that?" asked Blake.

"The signal gun!" cried Abe. "She must be sinking and they want us to hurry help. But she's too far out yet for a line to reach her."

Again the signal gun sounded, and hearing it, the life savers hastened their pace, but it was hard work dragging their apparatus through the sand.

"Let's help 'em!" cried Joe. "The ship is drifting up this way. If we make pictures it will have to be from about here. Let's help drag the wagon!"

"That's right!" echoed Blake, and the boys, leaving their cameras in charge of Mr. Hadley, hastened to relieve the fagged-out life savers. The fishermen and some of the theatrical men joined in also.

"Right about here," directed the captain of the life saving crew, when the cart containing the gun, "shears" and other parts of the breeches buoy had been dragged farther along. "She'll strike about here, I fancy."

The doomed vessel was now much nearer shore, and on her wave-washed decks could be seen the sailors, some of them lashed to the stumps of masts, others to whatever of the standing rigging offered a hold against the grasp of the sea.

"Get ready, men!" the commander went on. "The wind is bringing her in fast, and it's going to be against us shooting a line over her, but we'll do our best. If she strikes now, so much the better."

"Why?" asked Blake, wonderingly.

"Because then she'll be stationary, and we can keep our main line taut. If she keeps drifting inshore while we're hauling the buoy back and forth it means that we'll have to keep tightening up all the while."

"There, she's struck!" suddenly called one of the life savers. All gazed out to sea, where, amid a smother of foam, the craft could be seen. Her change in position was evident. Her decks sloped more, and instead of drifting she remained in one position.

"The rocks have gripped her," spoke old Abe, solemnly. "She'll go to pieces soon now."

"Then get busy!" cried C. C. Piper, who seemed not to have lost his strangely cheerful mood. "Save those men!"

"That's what we're going to do," said the captain. "All ready now, men."

"And that means we'd better get busy, Joe," said Blake. "We can't do anything to help just now. Besides, there are a lot of men here. We must get our cameras in place."

"That's right, Blake," and the two lads got their apparatus in shape to operate, Mr. Hadley doing the same. The machines were set up on some sand hills, far enough back to be out of the spray, which was like a fog close to the surface of the water.

While some of the life savers and their volunteer assistants were burying in the sand the heavy anchor that was to hold one end of the rope on which the breeches buoy would travel, others were getting ready to fire the gun.

In brief, the breeches buoy is operated as follows: A small mortar, or cannon, is used, and an elongated projectile is placed in it. Attached to the projectile is a thin and strong line. It is coiled in a box and placed on the sand near the mortar. The coils are laid around pegs in a peculiar manner to prevent tangling. The pegs are then pulled out, and the coils lie one upon the other so that the line may be paid out rapidly.

When the projectile is fired toward the ship, the aim is to make it shoot over her deck, carrying the cord with it. This is called "getting a line aboard." Once this is done the crew on the vessel can, by means of the small cord, pull aboard a heavy cable. This is made fast to the highest point possible.

There is now a cable extending from the shore to the ship, the shore end being made fast to the anchor in the sand. The cable is raised as high as possible on a pair of wooden "shears," to keep it above the waves.

Running on pulley wheels, on this stout, tight rope, is the "breeches buoy." This is literally a pair of canvas breeches, into which the person to be saved places himself, getting into the apparatus from the deck of the sinking ship. There is a line fast to the buoy, one end being on shore. When the signal is given those on the beach pull, the buoy and the person in it are pulled along the tight rope by means of the pulleys to the beach and saved, though often they are well drenched in the process. Those remaining on the ship now pull the empty buoy back, and other persons come ashore until all are saved.

Sometimes, instead of the canvas breeches, a small enclosed car is used to slide along the rope. In this car more than one person can get, and they are protected from the waves.

"All ready?" asked the captain of the life saving crew, after he had inspected what his men and the others helping them had done.

"All ready, sir!" came the response.

"Then fire!"

The mortar boomed, through the wind shot the projectile toward the ship, carrying with it the swiftly uncoiling rope. All watched anxiously.

"Too short!" cried the captain a moment later, lowering the glass through which he had watched the effect of the shot. "Use a little more powder this time."

The projectile was hauled back through the waves, and attached to another line, coiled in readiness, while some of the life savers busied themselves recoiling the first rope, in case the second shot failed too.

It did, again falling short.

"Try more powder," said the captain, grimly. "We've got to reach her."

"And soon," murmured old Abe. "She's breaking up fast."

Once more the mortar was fired, Blake and Joe, as well as Mr. Hadley, getting films of every move.

"There she goes!" cried the captain, in delight, as he watched the third shot. "Over her decks as clean as you'd want! Now to get the poor souls ashore!"

On board the wrecked ship could be observed a scene of activity. The sailors began hauling on the line, and presently the big cable began paying out from shore. Soon it reached the side of the ship, to be hauled up, and made fast to the stump of one of the masts.

"Lively now, boys!" cried the captain. "Pull taut and then run out the buoy. She can't last much longer!"

The men made redoubled efforts, and Blake and Joe, leaving their automatic camera working, while Mr. Hadley turned the operation of his over to Macaroni, the three moving picture experts aided in the work of rescue.

Soon the breeches buoy was hauled out to the ship for its first passenger, and presently the sagging of the cable told that some one was in it.

"Pull, boys!" cried the captain of the life savers, and through the dashing waves, that threw their crests over the shipwrecked person, the buoy was hauled ashore.

"Grab him!" cried the captain, as the first one saved was pulled up high on the beach.

"It isn't a him, captain!" cried one of the men. "It's a woman!"

"Bless my sea boots!" yelled the captain. "A woman! Are there any more of you aboard—or any children?"

"I—I'm the only one," was the panting answer, for she had swallowed much water. "I'm the captain's wife. Can you—can you save the others? They made me come first."

"That's right! Women and children always first!" shouted the captain.

"Of course we'll save the others," yelled C. C., who was running excitedly about, helping all he could. "We'll save every one!" he repeated.

"Gloomy in a new role—a happy one!" remarked Blake.

The buoy was hauled back, and another was saved—one of the sailors, this time. He reported that there were in all twenty-five hands on the ship, exclusive of the captain.

"He'll come last, of course," he said, simply.

"Of course," agreed Abe Haskill. "The captain allers does that. Once more, boys!"

Again was a rescue effected, the moving picture cameras registering faithfully everything that went on. The work had to be done quickly now, for the vessel was fast breaking up.

"Two more left!" cried the chief life saver. "Jack up that cable, boys; she's sagging. I guess the old ship is working farther in. Jack her up!"

By means of pulleys attached to the main rope it was made tauter. Then came a heavy sag on it.

"What's that?" asked one of the life savers.

"It's two of 'em—two of 'em, clinging to the buoy!" cried Blake, who was watching through a glass. "I guess the ship must be going to pieces too fast to allow for another trip. You've got to save two at once."

"And we can do it!" cried the captain. "All together, now, boys! But they're going to get wet!"

By reason of the added weight the rope was sagging badly, and the men clinging to the buoy could be seen half in and half out of the water.

"Lively, men, or they'll drown!" yelled the captain.

Hardy and intrepid as were the life-savers and the volunteers who had assembled to help them, they paused a moment now. It seemed impossible that the two in the buoy could be pulled ashore in time to be saved.

Over them broke great seas, the waves hissing and foaming as though angry at being cheated of their prey. The storm-swept waters seemed to seize on the rope, as though to pull it beneath the billows. The anchor that held the rope which passed over the "shears" seemed to be pulling out of the sand packed around it.

"Come on, men!" cried the captain. "Take a brace now, and we'll have 'em ashore in a jiffy!"

"But she's slipping!" cried a grizzled seaman. "She can't hold any longer. The whole business is going!"

"She can't go until we git 'em ashore!" yelled the captain of the life-savers. "I won't let her! Here, Jim Black, you mosey back there and pile more sand around that anchor. Now then, men, pull as though you meant it. What! You're not going to have it said that you let a little cat's paw of wind like this beat you; are you?"

Something of the captain's courage seemed to infuse itself into his men. They had been half-hearted before, but they were brave now. Once more they ranged themselves on the rope that was used to haul the buoy from the ship to shore. It was as though the waves had tried to intimidate them, and had been bidden defiance.

The weight of the two persons in the buoy was almost too much. The waves had a doubly large surface against which to break, and well the captain knew that there was a limit to the strain to which the tackle could be subjected. Once the main rope leading from the anchor to the ship, on which cable the buoy ran, parted, and nothing could save those last two lives. No wonder the captain wanted haste.

"Haul away!" he bellowed through the roar of the wind, using his hands as a trumpet. "Haul away, men!"

His companions braced themselves in the shifting sand. They bent their backs. Their arms swelled into bunches of muscles that had been trained in the hard school of the sea.

"Will the haul-rope stand it?" cried one man.

"She's got to stand it!" cried the captain. "She's just got to! Pull, men; you're not half hauling!"

"If that rope gives," faltered an old, gray-haired man, who seemed too aged for this life, "if that rope gives way——"

"Don't you talk about it!" snapped the captain. "I'll take all the responsibility of that rope. It'll hold all right. I looked at it the other day. All you've got to do is pull! Do you hear me? Pull as you never pulled before!"

Once more the backs of the men bent to the strain. The moving picture boys, watching and waiting; filled with anxiety even as they filmed the wreck, saw that the rise and fall of the waves had a good deal to do with the rescue.

"They can pull better when the waves don't wash over those two poor souls in the buoy," observed Blake.

"Yes, there's less resistance," agreed Joe. "Oh, there comes a big one!" and, as he spoke, an immense comber buried from sight the two whom the life-savers were endeavoring to pull from the grip of the sea.

"If they can only hold their breaths long enough, they may come through it," said Blake. "But it's a tough proposition."

"It sure is," agreed his chum. They had gone back to snap a few pictures, and then, finding that the automatic apparatus was working well, they again joined the group on the sands.

"Another pull or two and we'll have 'em ashore!" yelled the captain. "Lively, men!"

As he spoke a grizzled seaman rushed up to him.

"That anchor's slippin' ag'in!" he bellowed through the noise of the storm. "I can't put sand on fast enough to hold it!"

"Then I'll have some one help you!" cried the captain. "Here, Si Watson! You git back there and help Jim pile sand on that anchor. It mustn't be allowed to pull out—do you understand? It mustn't pull out if—if you have to—sit on it!"

"Aye—aye, sir," was the answer, and the two men ran back to where the anchor was buried in the beach, to pile the sand on with the shovels provided for that purpose.

"Now one more pull, and we'll have 'em safe!" yelled the captain a little later, and with a mighty haul his men bent to their task.

"There they come through the last line of surf!" yelled Joe, pointing to the buoy containing the two shipwrecked persons.

"If only the rope holds," murmured his chum.

Even as he spoke there came a cry from the two men who had been sent to watch that the anchor in the sand did not drag.

"It's coming! It's coming out!" shouted one of them.

"Sit on it! Hold it down!" yelled the captain. "Into the water after 'em, boys! Come on, ye old seadogs!"

There was a snap—the rope had parted, but so near to the beach were the two that the life-savers waded into the foam and spume, and grabbed them, holding them safe.

They were hauled to the beach, on which huddled the others who had been saved from the wreck.

The lone woman had been taken in charge by the feminine members of the theatrical troupe, who led her toward their boarding house. They said they would soon have hot coffee ready for all the sailors.

"Get 'em out of the buoy!" cried the captain, as the two last rescued were seen to be well-nigh insensible. They were assisted out, and sank helpless on the sand.

"Pretty far gone," remarked a life saver. "One must be the captain, I reckon."

"And the other," began Harry Stanton, keeper of the Rockypoint light; "the other—why, if it isn't Nate Duncan, who used to be my assistant! He came out of the wreck—Nate Duncan!"



CHAPTER XXV

A NEW QUEST

From where he was standing by a group of the rescued sailors, Joe Duncan heard what the lighthouse keeper said. The lad rushed forward.

"Nate Duncan!" he repeated, as he gazed at the two men, who were just beginning to revive under the application of stimulants. "Which one of you is Mr. Duncan?" he asked, eagerly.

"I—I am," faltered the younger of the two men. "Why, who wants me. Oh, it's you, Harry Stanton," and he looked at the lighthouse keeper standing near him. "I—I can explain everything. I——"

"It wasn't I who asked," spoke the lighthouse keeper. "It was this lad here," and he indicated Joe. "Your son."

"My son!" cried the rescued man. "Are you sure—can it be true. Oh, is it possible? Don't disappoint me! Are you my son?" and he held out his hands to Joe.

"I—I think so, father," spoke the boy, softly. "I—I have been looking for you a long time."

"And I have, too, Joe; yes, you are my boy. I can see it now. Oh, the dear Lord be praised!" and there was moisture in his eyes that was not the salt from the raging sea.

"But—but," went on Joe. "I thought you went to China. I wrote to you at Hong Kong."

"I did start for there, Joe; but the vessel on which I sailed was wrecked, and this craft, bound back for San Francisco, picked us up. So I didn't get very far. Oh, but I have found my boy!"

The others drew a little aside while father and son, so strangely restored to each other by the fury of the sea, clasped each other close.

"Now, friends," said Mr. Ringold, bustling up; "those of you who are wet through had better let us take care of you. We have room for you all, and I'll send word to any of your friends if you'll give me the addresses. Your wreck, in a way, has been a great thing for me, for I have obtained some wonderful moving pictures of it and this rescue. It will make a great drama. So I want to help you all I can."

By this time the captain of the vessel had been revived and with his wife and crew was taken to the theatrical boarding place, where the women busied themselves getting warm drinks and food, and the men changed into dry garments loaned by the fishermen and the others. Soon after the last one came ashore the wreck broke up and sank.

"Well, of all the wonderful things I ever experienced, this is the most marvelous," declared Mr. Duncan, as he sat with his son's hand in his. "I am wrecked twice, and come back to the same place I ran away from, to find Joe waiting for me."

"It is wonderful," agreed Joe, wondering how he was going to bring up the subject of the wreckers.

"Yes, this is the very place I left in such a hurry, a few months ago," went on Mr. Duncan.

"Would you mind telling me why you left so suddenly?" asked the lighthouse keeper, solemnly. "Of course it's none of my affair; but I might say it concerns you mightily, Nate Duncan. Can you prove your innocence?"

"Prove my innocence! Of what charge?" cried the man.

"Oh, father, of course we don't believe it!" burst out Joe, unable to keep silent longer; "but Hemp Danforth says you were implicated with him in wrecking boats by means of false lights!"

"Hemp Danforth says that!" cried Joe's father.

"Yes. Tell me—tell all of them—that it isn't so!" pleaded the lad.

"Of course it isn't so, Joe."

"But why did you leave so suddenly, and why did the officer come for you the next day?" asked the lighthouse keeper. "It looked bad, Nate."

"I suppose it did," said Mr. Duncan, slowly. "But it can easily be explained. I was mixed up with those wreckers——"

"Father!" cried Joe.

"But not the way you think, son," went on the former lighthouse worker quickly. "Hemp Danforth and I had a quarrel. It was over some business matters that he and I were mixed up in before I learned that he and his gang were wreckers.

"We quarreled, because he tried to defraud me of my rights, and I had to give him a severe beating. Perhaps I was wrong, but I acted on impulse. Then I heard that Hemp, to get even, had accused me of being a wrecker, and he had his men ready to swear to false testimony about me; even that I let the light go out, which I never did.

"I knew I could not refute it, especially at that time, and as something came up that made it necessary for me to leave for China at once, I decided to go away. I realize now that it must have looked bad, especially after the charge against me. But now I am ready to stay and face it. I can prove that I had nothing to do with the wrecking, and that as soon as I learned that Hemp and his gang were concerned in it I left them. If we can get hold of Hemp I can easily make him acknowledge this."

"You can easily get hold of him," said Blake. "He and his crowd are all in jail. They were caught in the act of setting a false light."

"And I don't believe you'll even have to prove your innocence," said Mr. Ringold. "They'll be convicted, and their evidence will never be accepted. You are already cleared, Mr. Duncan."

"My name cleared—and my son with me—what else could I want?" murmured the happy man.

"But, Dad," asked Joe, his face showing his delight that he could now use that word. "Why did you have to leave so suddenly?"

"To try and find your sister, Joe."

"My sister?"

"Yes, I have a daughter, as well as a son," went on Mr. Duncan. "I have found one, and now to find the other."

"Where is she?" cried Joe. "What is she like? Did I ever see her when we were both little?"

"Indeed you did, and when your mother died I left you with a family, who later disappeared. You must tell me your story, Joe, and how you found me. But now as to your sister.

"Most unexpectedly, after years of searching, I got word that she had been brought up in a minister's family, and that lately she had gone as a missionary's helper to China. I had long planned to take a sea voyage, and when I got this news I decided to go at once, and bring her back. Then I was to renew my search for you.

"An agent in San Francisco told me of a vessel about to sail for Hong Kong, and I deserted my post at the lighthouse and sailed. I admit I did wrong in leaving so suddenly, but it seemed to be the best thing to do. I did not want to be arrested as a wrecker even though I was innocent."

"I'll forgive you," said Mr. Stanton, with a smile. "I'm so glad to learn you're not one of them pesky wreckers."

And then began a long series of explanations, Mr. Duncan listening with interest to Joe's story, and, in turn, telling how his vessel was wrecked, and how he and the others were picked up, only to be wrecked again, nearer home.

Joe's father paused a moment and then said:

"But, son, tell me something of yourself. I've been doing all the talking, it seems. Are you really in this queer business of taking moving pictures?"

"That's what I am, Dad—Blake and I. We've been in it some time, and we're doing well. We hope to be in it some time longer, too. If it hadn't been for these pictures I might never have found you."

"That's so, Joe. After this I'll never pass a moving picture theatre without thinking what it has done for me. It gave me back my boy!"

"Now I think you have talked enough, Mr. Duncan," said one of the women, coming up. "You had a much harder time of it than we did, and you must quiet down. You must have swallowed a lot of salt water."

"I guess I did—enough to preserve about a barrel of pickles," he admitted, with a smile. "I would be glad of a little rest. But you won't leave me; will you, Joe?"

"No indeed, Dad. I've had enough trouble finding you to lose you now. But you get a good rest. Blake and I have a lot to do yet. I want to get these latest films in shape to send off for development. I hope they came out good."

"I don't see how they could—with the weather conditions what they were," remarked C. C. Piper, joining the group.

"Now that isn't a nice thing to say," Miss Lee reminded him. "Why can't you be cheerful?"

"Why, I'm not at all gloomy. I only said——"

"You tried to throw cold water on what the boys did," she reminded him.

"Water! Say, if anybody says water to me again to-day, I don't know what I will do!" exclaimed Blake. "Shame on you, C. C.! You ought to be more careful."

"Oh, well, I didn't mean anything. I guess those pictures will be all right—if the salt spray doesn't spoil the celluloid," he added, as he moved off.

"You're hopeless," declared Miss Lee. "I'll never speak to you again."

The nonsensical talk served to raise the spirits of those who had been rather plunged in gloom ever since the wreck. Mr. Duncan was given a room to himself where he could be quiet and recover from the shock of having been so near death.

The moving picture boys found plenty to do. In addition to getting off to the developing studio the films they had taken that day, they had to prepare for a hard day's work to follow, for, now that he had the wreck scene, Mr. Ringold declared that he needed some others to go with it to round out the drama of the sea that he had in mind when coming to the coast.

It may seem that it would not pay to go to such big expense to make a single films play, or even one or two, but I assure my readers that it is not uncommon for a concern to spend ten thousand dollars in making a single play, and some elaborate productions, such as Shakespearian plays, and historical dramas, will cost over fifty thousand dollars to get ready to be filmed.

Months are spent in preparation, rehearsals go on day after day, and finally the play itself is given, often not lasting more than an hour or half hour on the screen, yet representing many weary weeks of work, and the expenditure of large sums of money. Such is the moving picture business to-day.

The boys were kept busy nearly all the rest of that week, and then came a period of calm. Joe sought out his father, who had steadily gained in strength after his sensational rescue, and began to question him as to his experiences, for Mr. Duncan had only given a mere outline of his experiences up to this time.

"You must have had some strenuous adventures," said Blake, who went with his chum.

"I certainly did. But, according to Joe, here, they weren't much more than what you boys went through with in New York, and getting those Indian films."

"That's right; we did have a time," admitted Blake.

"Well, I'm glad I've got my boy, anyhow," went on the former lighthouse worker, with a fond glance at Joe. "Nothing is worse than to have folks, and not know where to find 'em. I hungered and longed for Joe for days and nights, and now I have him. And I'm not going to lose him again, either, if I can help it," and he clasped his son's hand warmly in his palm, while tears dimmed his eyes. Joe, too, was much affected.

"If you only had your daughter now, you'd be all right," said Blake, anxious to turn the subject.

"Yes, so I would. My poor little girl! We must locate her next, Joe."

"But what about my sister?" asked Joe. "Can we find her?"

"We'll try, Joe, my boy!" exclaimed his father. "You and I together."

"Count me in!" cried Blake.

"I sure will," agreed Joe. "I wonder what will happen to us."

And what did, and how the two lads went on their new quest, will be related in the next volume of this series, to be entitled "The Moving Picture Boys in the Jungle; Or, Stirring Times Among the Wild Animals." In it will be told of their adventures and you may learn whether or not they found Joe's sister.

"Well, we got everything we came for," said Mr. Ringold, a few days later, when the shipwrecked ones had been sent to their homes with the exception of Mr. Duncan, who remained with Joe.

"Yes, all the dramas, and the storm and wreck as well," agreed Mr. Hadley.

"But we'll never have such good luck again," predicted C. C. Piper, with a return of his gloomy manner. "I know something will happen to us on our way back East."

"Oh, cheer up," urged Miss Lee; "the sun is shining."

"But it will rain to-morrow," declared the comedian, as he did some odd little dance steps.

Preparations for taking the theatrical company back East were made; but Joe, Blake and Mr. Duncan were uncertain about accompanying them. While Joe and his father were talking over their plans, Blake went to San Francisco on a vacation for a week.

But it was not much of a rest for him. While there he learned of a prize offered for the best moving picture of the fire department in action, and, though many operators tried, Blake's film was regarded as the best. He "scooped" the others easily, and beat some of the most skillful men in the business.

But now, for a time, we will take leave of the moving picture boys.

THE END

* * * * * *

THE FAMOUS ROVER BOYS SERIES By Arthur W. Winfield

American Stories of American Boys and Girls ONE MILLION COPIES ALREADY SOLD OF THIS SERIES

12mo. Cloth. Handsomely printed and illustrated. Price, 60 Cents per volume, postpaid

THE ROVER BOYS IN THE AIR Or From College Campus to the Clouds THE ROVER BOYS DOWN EAST Or The Struggle for the Stanhope Fortune THE ROVER BOYS AT COLLEGE Or The Right Road and the Wrong THE ROVER BOYS ON TREASURE ISLE Or The Strange Cruise of the Steam Yacht THE ROVER BOYS ON THE FARM Or The Last Days at Putnam Hall THE ROVER BOYS IN SOUTHERN WATERS Or The Deserted Steam Yacht THE ROVER BOYS ON THE PLAINS Or The Mystery of Red Rock Ranch THE ROVER BOYS ON THE RIVER Or The Search for the Missing Houseboat THE ROVER BOYS IN CAMP Or The Rivals of Pine Island THE ROVER BOYS ON LAND AND SEA Or The Crusoes of Seven Islands THE ROVER BOYS IN THE MOUNTAINS Or A Hunt for Fame and Fortune THE ROVER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES Or The Secret of the Island Cave THE ROVER BOYS OUT WEST Or The Search for a Lost Mine THE ROVER BOYS IN THE JUNGLE Or Stirring Adventures in Africa THE ROVER BOYS ON THE OCEAN Or A Chase for a Fortune THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL Or The Cadets of Putnam Hall

GROSSET & DUNLAP - NEW YORK

* * * * * *

THE PUTNAM HALL SERIES Companion Stories to the Famous Rover Boys Series By Arthur M. Winfield

Open-air pastimes have always been popular with boys, and should always be encouraged. These books mingle adventure and fact, and will appeal to every manly boy.

12mo. Handsomely printed and illustrated. Price 60 Cents Per Volume, Postpaid.

THE PUTNAM HALL MYSTERY Or The School Chums' Strange Discovery

The particulars of the mystery and the solution of it are very interesting reading.

THE PUTNAM HALL ENCAMPMENT Or The Secret of the Old Mill

A story full of vim and vigor, telling what the cadets did during the summer encampment, including a visit to a mysterious old mill, said to be haunted. The book has a wealth of fun in it.

THE PUTNAM HALL REBELLION Or The Rival Runaways

The boys had good reasons for running away during Captain Putnam's absence. They had plenty of fun, and several queer adventures.

THE PUTNAM HALL CHAMPIONS Or Bound to Win Out

In this volume the Putnam Hall Cadets show what they can do in various keen rivalries on the athletic field and elsewhere. There is one victory which leads to a most unlooked-for discovery.

THE PUTNAM HALL CADETS Or Good Times in School and Out

The cadets are lively, flesh-and-blood fellows, bound to make friends from the start. There are some keen rivalries, in school and out, and something is told of a remarkable midnight feast and a hazing that had an unlooked-for ending.

THE PUTNAM HALL RIVALS Or Fun and Sport Afloat and Ashore

It is a lively, rattling, breezy story of school life in this country written by one who knows all about its pleasures and its perplexities, its glorious excitements, and its chilling disappointments.

GROSSET & DUNLAP - NEW YORK



THE RISE IN LIFE SERIES By Horatio Alger, Jr.

These are Copyrighted Stories which cannot be obtained elsewhere. They are the stories last written by this famous author.

12mo. Illustrated. Bound in cloth, stamped in colored inks. Price, 40 Cents per Volume, Postpaid.

THE YOUNG BOOK AGENT, Or Frank Hardy's Road to Success

A plain but uncommonly interesting tale of everyday life, describing the ups and downs of a boy book-agent.

FROM FARM TO FORTUNE, Or Nat Nason's Strange Experience

Nat was a poor country lad. Work on the farm was hard, and after a quarrel with his uncle, with whom he resided, he struck out for himself.

OUT FOR BUSINESS, Or Robert Frost's Strange Career

Relates the adventures of a country boy who is compelled to leave home and seek his fortune in the great world at large.

FALLING IN WITH FORTUNE, Or The Experiences of a Young Secretary

This is a companion tale to "Out for Business," but complete in itself, and tells of the further doings of Robert Frost as private secretary.

YOUNG CAPTAIN JACK, Or The Son of a Soldier

The scene is laid in the South during the Civil War, and the hero is a waif who was cast up by the sea and adopted by a rich Southern planter.

NELSON THE NEWSBOY, Or Afloat in New York

Mr. Alger is always at his best in the portrayal of life in New York City, and this story is among the best he has given our young readers.

LOST AT SEA, Or Robert Roscoe's Strange Cruise

A sea story of uncommon interest. The hero falls in with a strange derelict—a ship given over to the wild animals of a menagerie.

JERRY, THE BACKWOODS BOY, Or the Parkhurst Treasure

Depicts life on a farm of New York State. The mystery of the treasure will fascinate every boy. Jerry is a character well worth knowing.

RANDY OF THE RIVER, Or the adventures of a Young Deckhand

Life on a river steamboat is not so romantic as some young people may imagine, but Randy Thompson wanted work and took what was offered.

JOE, THE HOTEL BOY, Or Winning Out by Pluck.

A graphic account of the adventures of a country boy in the city.

BEN LOGAN'S TRIUMPH, Or The Boys of Boxwood Academy

The trials and triumphs of a city newsboy in the country.

GROSSET & DUNLAP - NEW YORK



THE FLAG AND FRONTIER SERIES By Captain Ralph Bonehill.

These bracing stories of American life, exploration and adventure should find a place in every school and home library for the enthusiasm they kindle in American heroism and history. The historical background is absolutely correct. Every volume complete in itself.

12mo. Bound in cloth. Stamped in colors. Price, 60 Cents per Volume. Postpaid.

WITH BOONE ON THE FRONTIER, Or The Pioneer Boys of Old Kentucky.

Relates the true-to-life adventures of two boys who, in company with their folks, move westward with Daniel Boone. Contains many thrilling scenes among the Indians and encounters with wild animals.

PIONEER BOYS OF THE GREAT NORTHWEST, Or With Lewis and Clark Across the Rockies.

A splendid story describing in detail the great expedition formed under the leadership of Lewis and Clark, and telling what was done by the pioneer boys who were first to penetrate the wilderness of the northwest.

PIONEER BOYS OF THE GOLD FIELDS, Or The Nugget Hunters of '49.

Giving the particulars of the great rush of the gold seekers to California in 1849. In the party making its way across the continent are three boys who become chums, and share in no end of adventures.

WITH CUSTER IN THE BLACK HILLS, Or A Young Scout Among the Indians.

Tells of the experiences of a youth who, with his parents, goes to the Black Hills in search of gold. Custer's last battle is well described.

BOYS OF THE FORT, Or A Young Captain's Pluck.

This story of stirring doings at one of our well-known forts in the Wild West is of more than ordinary interest. Gives a good insight into army life of to-day.

THE YOUNG BANDMASTER, Or Concert, Stage and Battlefield.

The hero is a youth who becomes a cornetist in an orchestra, and works his way up to the leadership of a brass band. He is carried off to sea and is taken to Cuba, and while there joins a military band which accompanies our soldiers in the attack on Santiago.

OFF FOR HAWAII, Or The Mystery of a Great Volcano.

Several boys start on a tour of the Hawaiian Islands. They have heard that there is a treasure located in the vicinity of Kilauea, the largest active volcano in the world, and go in search of it.

A SAILOR BOY WITH DEWEY, Or Afloat in the Philippines.

The story of Dewey's victory in Manila Bay as it appeared to a real, live American youth who was in the navy at the time. Many adventures in Manila and in the interior follow.

WHEN SANTIAGO FELL, Or The War Adventures of Two Chums.

Two boys leave New York to join their parents in Cuba. The war between Spain and the Cubans is on, and the boys are detained at Santiago, but escape across the bay at night. Many adventures follow.

GROSSET & DUNLAP - NEW YORK



THE ENTERPRISE BOOKS Captivating Stories for Boys by Justly Popular Writers

The episodes are graphic, exciting, realistic—the tendency of the tales is to the formation of an honorable and manly character. They are unusually interesting, and convey lessons of pluck, perseverance and manly independence. 12mo. Illustrated. Attractively bound in cloth.

Price, 40 Cents per Volume. Postpaid.

MOFFAT, WILLIAM D. THE CRIMSON BANNER. A Story of College Baseball

A tale that grips one from start to finish. The students are almost flesh and blood, and the contests become real as we read about them. The best all-around college and baseball tale yet presented.

GRAYDON, WILLIAM MURRAY CANOE BOYS AND CAMP FIRES.

In this book we have the doings of several bright and lively boys, who go on a canoeing trip and meet with many exciting happenings.

HARKNESS, PETER T. ANDY, THE ACROBAT. Or, With the Greatest Show on Earth

Andy is as bright as a silver dollar. In the book we can smell the sawdust, hear the flapping of the big white canvas and the roaring of the lions, and listen to the merry "hoop la!" of the clown.

FOSTER, W. BERT THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN. A Tale of Ocean Adventure

A Youth's story of the deep blue sea—of the search for a derelict carrying a fortune. Brandon Tarr is a manly lad, and all lads will be eager to learn whether he failed or succeeded in his mission.

WHITE, MATTHEW, JR. TWO BOYS AND A FORTUNE. Or, The Tyler Will

If you had been poor and were suddenly left a half-million dollars, what would you do with it? That was the problem that confronted the Pell family, and especially the twin brothers, Rex and Roy. A strong, helpful story, that should be read by every boy in our land.

WINFIELD, ARTHUR M. BOB, THE PHOTOGRAPHER. Or, A Hero in Spite of Himself

Relates the experiences of a poor boy who falls in with a "camera fiend," and develops a liking for photography. After a number of stirring adventures Bob becomes photographer for a railroad; thwarts the plan of those who would injure the railroad corporation and incidently clears a mystery surrounding his parentage.

BONEHILL, CAPTAIN RALPH LOST IN THE LAND OF ICE. Or, Daring Adventures Round the South Pole

An expedition is fitted out by a rich young man and with him goes the hero of the tale, a lad who has some knowledge of a treasure ship said to be cast away in the land of ice. The heroes land among the wild Indians of Patagonia and have many exciting adventures.

GROSSET & DUNLAP - NEW YORK



THE YOUNG REPORTER SERIES By Howard R. Garis

The author is a practised journalist, and these stories convey a true picture of the workings of a great newspaper. The incidents are taken from life.

12mo. Bound in Cloth. Illustrated. Price, 40 Cents per Volume. Postpaid.

FROM OFFICE BOY TO REPORTER Or The First Step in Journalism.

LARRY DEXTER, THE YOUNG REPORTER Or Strange Adventures in a Great City.

LARRY DEXTER'S GREAT SEARCH Or The Hunt for a Missing Millionaire.

LARRY DEXTER AND THE BANK MYSTERY Or A Young Reporter in Wall Street.

LARRY DEXTER AND THE STOLEN BOY Or A Young Reporter on the Lakes.

* * * * * *

THE SEA TREASURE SERIES By Roy Rockwood

No manly boy ever grew tired of sea stories—there is a fascination about them, and they are a recreation to the mind. These books are especially interesting and are full of adventure, clever dialogue and plenty of fun.

12mo. Bound in Cloth. Illustrated. Price, 40 Cents per Volume. Postpaid.

ADRIFT ON THE PACIFIC Or The Secret of the Island Cave.

THE CRUISE OF THE TREASURE SHIP Or The Castaways of Floating Island.

THE RIVAL OCEAN DIVERS Or The Search for a Sunken Treasure.

JACK NORTH'S TREASURE HUNT Or Daring Adventures in South America.

GROSSET & DUNLAP - NEW YORK



THE DICK HAMILTON SERIES By Howard R. Garis

A NEW LINE OF CLEVER TALES FOR BOYS

DICK HAMILTON'S FORTUNE Or The Stirring Doings of a Millionaire's Son

Dick, the son of a millionaire, has a fortune left to him by his mother. But before he can touch the bulk of this money it is stipulated in his mother's will that he must do certain things, in order to prove that he is worthy of possessing such a fortune. The doings of Dick and his chums make the liveliest kind of reading.

DICK HAMILTON'S CADET DAYS Or The Handicap of a Millionaire's Son

The hero, a very rich young man, is sent to a military academy to make his way without the use of money. A fine picture of life at an up-to-date military academy is given, with target shooting, broadsword exercise, trick riding, sham battles, and all. Dick proves himself a hero in the best sense of the word.

DICK HAMILTON'S STEAM YACHT Or A Young Millionaire and the Kidnappers

A series of adventures while yachting in which our hero's wealth plays a part. Dick is marooned on an island, recovers his yacht and foils the kidnappers. The wrong young man is spirited away, Dick gives chase and there is a surprising rescue at sea.

DICK HAMILTON'S FOOTBALL TEAM Or A Young Millionaire on the Gridiron

A very interesting account of how Dick succeeded in developing a champion team and of the lively contests with other teams. There is also related a number of thrilling incidents in which Dick is the central figure.

Other volumes in preparation.

12mo. Handsomely printed and illustrated, and bound in cloth, stamped in colors. Printed wrappers.

Price, 60 Cents per volume, postpaid

GROSSET & DUNLAP - NEW YORK



THE TOM SWIFT SERIES By Victor Appleton

12mo, printed from large type on good paper, each volume with half-tone frontispiece. Handsomely bound in cloth. Printed wrappers.

Price, 40 Cents per Volume, postpaid

It is the purpose of these spirited tales to convey in a realistic way the wonderful advances in land and sea locomotion. Stories like these impress themselves on the youthful memory and their reading is productive only of good.

TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE Or Fun and Adventure on the Road

TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT Or The Rivals of Lake Carlopa

TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP Or The Stirring Cruise of the Red Cloud

TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT Or Under the Ocean for Sunken Treasure

TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT Or The Speediest Car on the Road

TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE Or Daring Adventures in Elephant Land

TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER Or The Quickest Flight on Record

TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE Or The Wreck of the Airship

TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS Or The Secret of Phantom Mountain

TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE Or The Castaways of Earthquake Island

TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD Or Marvellous Adventures Underground

TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDER Or Seeking the Platinum Treasure

TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY Or A Daring Escape by Airship

TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA Or The Perils of Moving Picture Taking

TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT Or On the Border for Uncle Sam

GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK

THE END