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"What for?" asked the manager, impulsively.
"Oh, maybe pop wouldn't like me to say. Never mind. It was sure good of you to ask me for this ride. The folks at Beatonville won't believe me when I tell 'em. But say, if ever you folks come out there, we'll give you a right good time—at Oak Farm!" he added, generously.
"Is your farm a large one?" asked the manager.
"Hundred and sixty acres. Some woodland, some flat, a lot of it hilly and stony, and part with a big creek on it."
"Hum," mused Mr. Pertell. "That sounds interesting. I've been looking for a good farm to stage several rural dramas on, and your place may be just what I need."
"To buy?" asked Sandy, eagerly.
"Oh, no. But I might rent part of it for a time. I'll talk to you about it later. I've got to get some of these scenes going now," and the manager went to confer with Russ.
CHAPTER XXI
OVERHEARD
The trip down the bay on the yacht was enjoyed by all, even though much of the time was taken up in depicting scenes from the drama. Sandy Apgar looked on curiously while the drama was being filmed, and when Ruth and Alice were not acting they talked to the young farmer.
They found him good-natured and rather simple, yet with a fund of homely wit and philosophy that stood him in good stead. He described Beatonville to them, and the farm where he and his aged parents tried to wrest a living from nature—that was none too kind.
"I've had quite a little vacation since I come to New York," Sandy said, "though it did take quite a bit of money. I reckon pop, though, will be disappointed that I can't bring back with me the promise of some cash."
"Then you need money very badly?" asked Alice.
"Yes, Miss. And I guess there ain't many farmers but what do. Leastways, I never met any that was millionaires. Though if the folks back home could see me now they'd think I was one, sittin' here doin' nothin'. It sure is great!"
The girls were called away to enact some of the scenes requiring their presence, and when they came back they found Sandy in conversation with the manager.
The girls saw Mr. Pertell give Sandy some bills, and when the young farmer protested, the manager said:
"Now never mind that!! You saved me more than that in stopping that runaway horse from spoiling my film and scene. You just take it, and when I get a chance I'll run up to your farm and look it over.
"I haven't got all my plans made yet, but I'm thinking of making a series of plays with an old-fashioned farm as a background. Is your place old-fashioned?" he asked.
"That's what some city folks said once, when they stopped in their automobile to get a glass of milk," replied Sandy. "We haven't any electric lights, nor even a telephone. So I guess we're old-fashioned, all right."
"I should say so," laughed Mr. Pertell. "Well, it may be the very thing I need when I go out on the rural circuit with my company. If it is, I could pay for the use of your farm, and it wouldn't interfere with your getting in the crops. In fact, I would probably want some scenes of harvesting, and the like."
"Well, come and we'll make you welcome," responded Sandy, warmly. "Only I never expected to get paid for stopping a runaway horse," he added as he looked at the roll of bills.
"Well, take it and have a good time during the rest of your stay in New York," advised the manager.
"Money's too scarce to waste on a good time," replied the young farmer, cautiously. "I'll use this to make up what I spent on railroad fare. My trip was a failure, but pop and mom will be glad it didn't cost me as much as I calculated, thanks to you. I hope you will get out to Oak Farm."
"Oh, you'll probably see me," Mr. Pertell assured him. "Give me your address."
The making of the films went on, and the water scenes of this latest and most elaborate drama were nearly all taken.
"Now we will have the scene in the small boat, where the party puts off to visit friends on the other vessel," announced Mr. Pertell. "They don't actually get there, as the alarm on board this vessel brings them back. But we'll have to show the start. Now, Mr. Sneed, you are to go in the small boat first."
Some of the sailors on board the yacht prepared to lower a boat from the davits, but Pepper Sneed held back.
"Do I have to get into that small boat?" he asked, dubiously.
"Certainly!" replied Mr. Pertell. "There is no danger."
"No danger!" cried Pepper Sneed. "What! In that small boat? Look at the waves!" and he pointed over the side. There was only a gentle swell on.
"It's as calm as a mill pond," spoke one of the sailors.
"Mill pond! Don't say mill pond to me!" cried the grouchy actor. "I fell in one once."
"Well, you won't fall now," declared the manager. "Get in the boat. I want to show it being lowered over the side with you in it."
"Well, if I have to—I'll have to, I suppose," groaned Mr. Sneed. "But I know something will happen."
But matters seemed going smoothly enough. The sailors were carefully lowering the small craft, and it was nearly at the surface of the water. Russ, up in the bow of the yacht, where he could get a good view, was making the pictures.
Suddenly, when the boat was a few feet from the ripples on the bay, one of the ropes slipped quickly through the davit block. One end of the boat went down quite fast and Pepper Sneed was heard to yell:
"Here I go! I knew something would happen! Help! I'm going to sink! Help! Oh, why did I ever get into this business!"
But with great presence of mind the other sailors lowered away on their rope, so that the other end of the boat went down also, and in another instant it was riding on an even keel. Nothing had happened except that Pepper Sneed had been badly scared.
"Did you get that, Russ?" asked the manager, anxiously.
"Oh, yes."
"How was it?"
"Fine! It will be all the better with that little mistake in—look more natural."
"Good! Then we'll leave it in. Now the rest of you get down the accommodation ladder. Stay there, Mr. Sneed!" he called to the grouchy actor, who seemed to want to leave the boat.
"What! Are more of them coming in this little cockleshell?"
"Certainly. That boat will hold twenty. Keep your place."
"Well, we'll all be drowned, you mark my words!" predicted Mr. Sneed. But nothing else happened and that part of the film was successfully made.
Then came more scenes aboard the yacht, until the water parts of the drama were completed.
Late that afternoon the party of moving picture players returned to New York. Sandy Apgar bade his new friends good-bye, expressing the hope that he would soon see them at Oak Farm.
"Excuse me, Mr. Pertell," said Alice, when they got back to the studio, and instructions had been given out for the indoor rehearsals next day, "excuse me, but I could not help overhearing what you said about the possibility of some farm dramas. Do you intend to film some of those?"
"Indeed I do," he answered, with a smile. "Why, would you and your sister like to be in them?"
"Very much!"
"Well, then, if this big play proves a success—and I see no reason why it should not—I shall take you and the rest of the company out to the country for the summer. We may go to Oak Farm, or to some other place; but we'll try a circuit of rural dramas, and see how they go."
Alice went to tell Ruth the good news. She found her sister in the dressing room, getting ready for the street.
"I think that will be fine!" exclaimed Ruth. "Listen, dear, daddy told me he had some business to attend to downtown, so he won't be home to supper. He suggested that we two go to a restaurant, and I think I'd like it—don't you? It will round out the day!"
"Of course. Let's go. I'm so hungry from that little water trip!"
A short time afterward the girls sat in a quiet restaurant, not far from the moving picture studio. There were not many persons there yet, for it was rather early. Ruth and Alice had taken a cosy little corner, of which there were a number in the place.
"We are coming on!" remarked Alice, as she gave her order.
"We certainly are!" agreed Ruth. "Who would ever have thought that we would get to be moving picture girls? I think——"
"Hush!" cautioned Alice, raising her hand for silence. Then the two girls heard some men in the next screened-off place talking, and one of them spoke loudly enough to be overheard.
"I'm sure we can get it," he was saying. "It's a nice little patent, and all the movies in the country will want it. It makes the pictures clearer and steadier. I tried to make a deal with him for it, but he turned me down. Now I'm going to get it anyhow, if you'll help."
"But how can you get it if it's patented?" another voice asked.
"That's the joke of it. It isn't patented yet. And all we need is the working model, and we can make one like it and patent it ourselves. Are you with me?"
"I guess so—yes!" was the answer.
"Good, then we'll get the model to-night and start a patent of our own. I know where he's taken it."
There was a scraping of chairs, indicating that the men were leaving. Ruth and Alice gazed at each other with startled eyes.
CHAPTER XXII
THE WARNING
"Did you hear that?" asked Ruth of Alice, in a whisper.
"Yes! Hush! Don't let them hear you!"
Ruth looked apprehensively over the back of her chair, but beheld no one. The noise made by the men as they were going out grew fainter.
Alice rose from her chair.
"What are you going to do?" asked Ruth, laying a detaining hand on her sister's arm.
"I'm going to see who those men are."
"Don't. They may——"
Alice made a gesture of silence.
"I'm pretty sure who one of them is," she whispered, as she bent down close to Ruth. "But I want to make certain."
"But Alice——"
"Now, Ruth, be sensible," went on Alice, as she passed around back of her sister's chair. "You heard what was said. I'm sure those men have some designs on that patent Russ has worked so hard over. We must tell him about them, and put him on his guard."
"You may get into danger."
It was curious how, in this emergency—as she had often done of late—Alice took the lead over her older sister. And Ruth did not object to it, but seemed to follow naturally after Alice led the way.
"Danger!" laughed Alice softly, as she came to a position behind the screen, whence she could note who the men going out were. "There's no danger in a public restaurant like this. And I'm only going to make sure who that man is. Then we'll go tell Russ."
Ruth made no further objection, and turned to watch her sister. The men had come to a halt at the desk of the cashier, to pay their checks, and their backs were toward Alice. An instant later, however, one of them had turned around and faced toward the rear of the restaurant.
Alice darted behind the screen with a quick intaking of her breath. She had recognized the man, and was fearful lest he know her.
For he was the fellow with whom Russ had been in dispute in the hallway that day, when the DeVeres' door had flown open.
"Simp Wolley!" whispered Alice, in tense tones to Ruth. "It's that man who was after Russ's patent."
"Then don't let him see you."
"I won't—no danger. They're going out now. Come on!"
"Where?" asked Ruth, as Alice reached for her gloves.
"We must go to warn Russ."
"But we haven't eaten what we ordered," objected Ruth, pointing to the food, hardly touched, on the table.
"No matter, we can pay for it."
"But the cashier will think it so odd."
"What do we care. It's our food—we'll pay for it, and we can do what we like with it then. We can eat it or not."
"But they'll think it so queer. They may think we have some prejudice against it, and——"
Ruth was a stickler for the established order of things. Alice was more in the habit of taking "cross-cuts."
"Don't be silly!" exclaimed the younger girl. "We've just got to get out of here and warn Russ before those men have a chance to take his patent. You heard what they said about doing it to-night!"
"Well, I suppose we must," assented Ruth, with a sigh. "But it seems a shame to waste all that good food."
"It won't be wasted. We can tell them to give it to some poor person."
"Oh, Alice! You are so—so queer."
"I'd be worse than queer if I sat here and ate while Russ was being robbed of his patent. I should think you'd want to help him. I thought you and he——"
"Alice!" warned Ruth, with a sudden assumption of dignity. But she blushed prettily.
"Oh, you know what I mean. Come on. Don't sit there talking any longer, and raising objections. We've got to hurry."
"Yes, I suppose so. Oh, Alice, I hope nothing happens!"
"So do I."
"I mean to us."
"And I mean to Russ. A distinction without a difference."
The two girls drew on their gloves and left the restaurant. As Ruth had expected, the cashier at the desk looked at them curiously as they paid for the meal they had not eaten. But Alice forestalled any open criticism by saying:
"We find we have to leave sooner than we expected. If you like, give our meal to some poor person. We haven't had time to touch it."
"Oh, all right," answered the young girl at the desk. "We often give what is left over to charity, and I'm sure the food on your table won't come amiss. If you like I'll speak to the manager, and see if he'll give you a rebate——"
"No, we haven't time for that—too much of a hurry," answered Alice. "Come along, Ruth."
They hurried outside, and Alice glanced quickly up and down the street for a glimpse of the two men. They were not in sight.
"I wish we were rich!" suddenly exclaimed Alice, as she took her sister's arm, and hurried in the direction of the elevated that would take them home.
"Why?" asked Ruth.
"Because then we could afford to take a taxicab. We ought to warn Russ as soon as possible. How much money have you, Ruth?"
"Not enough for a taxicab, I'm afraid." She hastily counted it over. Alice did the same.
"No," decided the younger girl, with a sigh. "I guess we'd better not. At least—not yet. We may have to—later."
"What do you mean?" asked Ruth.
"I mean we can't tell what will happen before we are able to tell Russ. He's hardly likely to be at home now, and we may have to search for him."
"But we can go home and tell his mother and Billy. One of them could find him, and warn him. Billy knows New York even better than we do."
"Yes, I suppose so. Well, we'll go to the apartment and see what happens there."
But at the Fenmore the girls had their first disappointment, for none of the Dalwoods was at home. Nor did any of the neighbors know where they had gone. For persons in New York, even in the same apartment house, are not very likely to become acquainted with one another, and often families may live in adjoining flats for a long time, without passing beyond the bowing stage. As for keeping track of the comings and goings of their neighbors, it is never thought of, unless something out of the ordinary occurs.
Echoes only answered the knocking of Ruth and Alice, and the two girls faced each other in the hallway with anxious looks on their faces.
"What shall we do?" asked Ruth. "None of them is home. How can we warn Russ?"
"I don't know. I've got to think!" exclaimed Alice. "Come in our place and let's sit down a minute. We can make a cup of tea. I was so hungry, and to leave that nice little meal—well, we just had to do it, that's all."
Tea was soon in process of making, and while the girls set out some cakes and a jar of jam for a hasty meal they did some rapid thinking.
"Did you ever hear Russ say where it was he was having his patent attachment made?" asked Alice.
"I never did," confessed Ruth. "He said it was somewhere on the East Side, but that's very indefinite."
"Then the only thing to do is to find Russ and tell him," decided Alice, as she removed, with the tip of her tongue, a spot of jam from a forefinger. "We've just got to find him.
"Now I'll tell you what we'll do, Ruth. You stay here and as soon as Mrs. Dalwood, or Billy, or perhaps even Russ comes home, you tell them all about this plot."
"But what will you do?"
"I'll go find Russ."
"What! Alone?"
"Why not? We can't both go. Oh, I see!" and a light broke over the face of Alice. "You mean you think it's your place to warn him. Well, maybe it is. I'm sure he would like——"
"Now, Alice, I didn't mean that at all, and you know it. I meant you oughtn't to be going about New York alone, and it's getting late. It will soon be dark."
"Nonsense! It isn't six o'clock yet."
"I know. But I can't allow you. We'll both go."
"But someone ought to be here to tell them as soon as one comes home."
"We can write a note and leave it under the door. Then we can leave a note for daddy. He'll be worried when he comes back and finds us gone. That's the best plan, Alice. Leave a note for Russ, and then you and I will try to find him. They may know at the studio where he has gone. Or he may be there yet."
"All right!" agreed Alice, after a moment's thought.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE MISSING MODEL
Two notes were quickly written. One was left on the table in the girls' apartment, telling their father that they were going out for a little while, to try to locate Russ on a matter of some importance connected with the moving pictures.
"There's no use telling daddy what has happened," said Alice. "He would only worry, and really there's no danger. We are merely going to warn Russ. He'll have to look after the men himself. But daddy would be sure to think we would get into some trouble. So we may as well not bother him."
"All right!" agreed Ruth. She was entering into the spirit of the affair now. Her eyes were shining and her cheeks vied in hue with those of Alice.
The other note, marked "Urgent!" was thrust under the kitchen door of the Dalwood flat.
"They'll be sure to see that," remarked Alice. "And, no matter if only Billy comes home first, he'll know what to do," for the story of the men's talk in the restaurant had been briefly set down on the paper.
Then, but not without many misgivings, the girls set out to try to find Russ.
"We can call up the studio on the telephone," suggested Alice, as she and her sister reached the street. "That will be the quickest way. If Russ isn't there they may be able to tell us where he is, or Mr. Pertell may know where the model is—I mean the machine shop where the apparatus is being turned out."
"That's so," agreed Ruth. "Why, we could have used one of the telephones in the apartment!"
"No, some of the neighbors would overhear us, and we don't want that."
"Why not?" Ruth wanted to know.
"Because you can't tell but one of those men may be watching this place, and some of the neighbors may be in league with them. Besides, all the telephones here are on party wires, and when you talk over one, some of the other subscribers on the same circuit may listen, for all we can tell. It isn't safe."
"My! You think of everything!" exclaimed Ruth, admiringly. "How do you manage it?"
"Oh, it just seems to come to me," replied Alice, with a laugh. "Come on," she added, after they had walked a little way. "There's a drug store and there's a telephone booth in it. Do you want to talk to Russ, in case he's there?"
"Oh, no, you'd better," responded Ruth, blushing.
"I will not. I'll call up the studio, but if he's there I want you to be the one to tell him. He'll appreciate it."
"All right," agreed Ruth, and the blush grew deeper.
Alice quickly got the number of the moving picture studio. There was a private branch exchange there, and Alice knew the girl operator.
"I want to get Russ Dalwood in a hurry," Alice explained to Miss Miller, who ran the switchboard. "You try the different departments until you find him. I'll be here, holding the wire."
"All right!" returned Miss Miller, in crisp, business-like tones. Perhaps she suspected that something was wrong.
Then ensued a nervous waiting. Alice opened the door of the booth and told Ruth what she had done.
"I'll let you talk to Russ as soon as he answers," she said.
Ruth nodded understandingly. But it seemed that Russ was not to be so easily found. Through her receiver Alice could hear Miss Miller ringing the telephones in the different departments of the big studio building. One after the other was tried, from the office to the dark developing rooms, and then the printing rooms. Most of the employees had gone for the day, but such as were present evidently made answer that the young moving picture operator was not there.
"I can't locate him," said Miss Miller to Alice, finally. "They say he was here about a half-hour ago, but has gone out."
"Don't they know where he went?" asked Alice. "It's very important that we find him."
"I'll see if anyone knows," came back the answer. Then ensued more waiting, but at the end came a gleam of hope.
"Mr. Blackson, in the camera room, says he heard Russ say he was going to the Odeon Theater," Miss Miller stated. "He is trying to get one of his attachments tried there."
"Where is the Odeon?" asked Alice, nervously drumming with her fingers on the telephone shelf.
"It's on Eightieth Street somewhere. Wait, I'll look up the telephone number for you. They take our service, you know."
In a few seconds Miss Miller had given the desired information, and then Alice said "good-bye" to her, frantically working the receiver hook of her instrument up and down to call the attention of the main central operator.
"And give them a good, long ring!" Alice added, as she gave the number. "It's very important."
"Very well," answered central.
There came more waiting. It was a bad time to get anyone, for it was now shortly after six o'clock, just when most persons were leaving for home or supper.
"Can't you get them?" asked Ruth, as Alice opened the 'phone booth door for a breath of air.
"I'm trying, dear. He'd left the studio, but may be at a moving picture theater. There, they've answered at last!"
Alice pulled the door shut with her disengaged hand, and spoke eagerly into the transmitter.
"Is Mr. Russ Dalwood there? It's very important!"
Ruth saw the look of dismay that came over her sister's face. Then through the double glass door she heard Alice say:
"He's gone! And you don't know where? Left ten minutes ago? Oh dear!"
Slowly she hung up the receiver. There seemed nothing else to do. She came out of the booth, her face showing her disappointment.
"He's gone, Ruth," she said. "What had we better do?"
"I think the only thing to do is to go back home and wait for him. He may be there now. Or his mother or Billy may. Come on home."
It was Ruth who was directing now, and Alice, after a moment of thought, saw that this was the only thing to do. Quickly they retraced their steps to the apartment house. Without stopping to enter their own flat they knocked on the Dalwood door. A few seconds of anxious waiting brought no answer.
"Not home yet!" exclaimed Alice. "Oh, what a shame."
Ruth turned to their own flat. Entering with a pass-key she saw at a glance that their father had not come home. The note for him was still on the table.
Then, as puzzled and disappointed, the two girls stood in the center of the room, they heard someone coming up the stairs that led to their flat. A second later and a merry whistle broke out.
"There he is—that's Russ!" cried Alice, joyfully. "I'll tell him; no—you go!" she added hastily, thrusting her sister before her into the hallway.
The whistle broke off into a discord as Russ saw Ruth standing waiting for him. Something in her face must have told him something was the matter, for he came up the remaining steps three at a time.
"What is it? What has happened?" he asked. "Is someone hurt?"
"No, it's your patent—the model. Some men—Alice and I overheard them in the restaurant—we've been trying to get you on the 'phone—I—we——"
Then Alice broke in.
"They're after your moving picture machine patent, Russ! They're going to get it to-night—Simp Wolley! You've got to hurry!"
Between them the girls quickly told what they had overheard.
Russ's eyes snapped.
"So that's the game; is it?" he cried. "Well, I'll stop them! I'm mighty glad you told me. My patent model, the drawings and everything are at Burton's machine shop. It isn't far from here. I'll go right away—in a taxicab. Do you——" he hesitated a moment. "Do you want to come?"
"We might be able to help," suggested Alice to Ruth. "At any rate, we'll have to give evidence against those men if they get them. Shall we go, Ruth?"
"I—I think so—yes."
"Bravo!" whispered Alice in her ear. "That note to daddy will answer. You'd better leave another in place of the one we wrote to you, Russ."
"I will," he exclaimed as he entered his own flat. "But mother and Billy won't be home until late, anyhow. They're going to stay to supper with relatives. Still, I'll explain in case I should be delayed."
Quickly he dashed off another note for his mother, and then, with the two girls, he hurried down to the street. There was a taxicab stand just around the corner, and the three were quickly on their way to the machine shop, while Ruth and Alice took turns giving more details of the scene in the restaurant.
"Here we are!" announced Russ, a little later, as the cab drew up, with a screeching of brakes, in front of a rather dingy building. "I only hope we're in time, and that Burton hasn't gone yet."
He jumped out of the cab, leaving Ruth and Alice sitting there. Frantically he threw open the door and rushed up the shop stairs.
"Oh, I do hope he is in time," breathed Ruth, softly.
"So do I," spoke Alice. "I wonder how men can be so mean as to want to take what isn't theirs?"
"I don't know, dear. Oh, hasn't this been an exciting day?"
"I should say it had. If ever—there's Russ now!" she interrupted herself to exclaim. "Oh, Ruth. It looks as though we were too late!"
For Russ, with a dejected look on his face, was crossing the pavement toward the cab.
"It—it's gone," he said brokenly. "Simp Wolley was here a half-hour ago and got it!"
"But how could he?" asked Alice in surprise. "Who gave it to him?"
"Mr. Burton. There was a forged order, supposed to be from me, and the machinist handed over the model," and Russ extended a crumpled and grimy bit of paper.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE PURSUIT
"How did it happen, Russ?"
"Where have the men gone with the model?"
"Can't you get some trace of them?"
Thus Ruth and Alice questioned their friend, as he stood at the open window of the taxicab, looking at the crumpled paper.
"I—I don't understand it all," he confessed. "After I knew those fellows were after my patent I cautioned Mr. Burton about letting any strangers see it."
A figure came into the doorway of the machine shop. It was that of an elderly man, with steel-rimmed spectacles. His face was grimy with the dirt of metal.
"I'm awfully sorry, Russ," he said, contritely. "But of course I thought the note was from you, and gave up the model."
"Did Simp Wolley get it?" asked Alice, eagerly.
"No, a uniformed messenger boy came for it," explained Russ. "That was it; wasn't it, Mr. Burton?"
"Yes. And I had no suspicions. You know you had said you might want the model some time in a hurry, to demonstrate to possible buyers, and of course when the boy came with the note I supposed you had sent him. I'm not familiar enough with your handwriting to know it," he added.
"No, I suppose not," admitted Russ. "And yet if you had been this might have deceived you. It is very like my writing. I guess Wolley must have had a sample to practice on."
"It all seemed regular," went on Mr. Burton. "I was working away, making some of the finished appliances from your model and drawings, when the boy brought the note. He was a regular messenger boy, I could tell that. And the note only asked for the model—not for any of the finished machines, of which I had two. He didn't even want the drawings, or I might have been suspicious."
"They won't need the drawings as long as they have the model. They can make drawings themselves," spoke Russ.
"But if they only have the model, and you still have some of the finished appliances," asked Alice, "can't you get ahead of them yet?"
"I'm afraid not," Russ replied. "You see, the patent office doesn't require models to be filed in all cases now. You can get a patent merely on drawings. They can still get ahead of me."
"Not if you file your drawings now!" exclaimed Ruth.
"Yes, but I'm not ready. You see the machine isn't perfected yet. I am still working on it. But they can file a prior claim, and get a patent on something so near like mine that I would be refused a patent when I applied.
"You see I haven't made any formal application yet. Of course, if it came to a question of a lawsuit, I might beat them out. But I have no money to hire lawyers, and they have. The only thing for me to do is to get that model back before they have a chance to use it to make drawings from. And how to do it I don't know."
"Do you know who that messenger boy was?" asked Alice suddenly of the machinist.
"I never saw him before, Miss—no. He came in a taxicab."
"A taxicab!" cried Russ, excitedly. "You didn't say that before. Did you happen to notice the number?"
If ever Russ Dalwood was thankful it was then, and the cause of it was that Mr. Burton had a mathematical mind in which figures seemed to sprout by second nature.
"I did notice the number," he said. "It isn't often that taxicabs stop out in front here, and I looked from my window as one drew up at the curb. I was working on your patent at the time. I saw the number of the cab, later, as the messenger boy rode off in it with the model."
"What was it?" asked Russ, preparing to make a note.
The machinist gave it to him.
"Now if we can only trace it!" exclaimed the young inventor.
"I guess I can help you out, friend," broke in their own taxicab chauffeur. "I've got a list of all the cabs in New York, and the companies that run them." Rapidly he consulted a notebook, and soon had the desired information. The office of the company was not far away, and Russ and the girls were soon speeding toward it. What the next move was to be no one could say.
The manager remembered the call that had come in. Two men had come with a messenger boy to engage a cab to go to the address of the machine shop.
"And who were the two men?" asked Russ.
The manager described one whom Ruth and Alice had no difficulty in recognizing as Simp Wolley.
"The other man was shorter and not so well dressed," the cab manager went on.
"Bud Brisket!" exclaimed Russ. "I know him. Now the question is: Where did they take my model?"
"There I'm afraid I can't help you," said the manager.
"Wait!" exclaimed Alice. "Did you happen to notice the number on the messenger boy's cap?"
"No, I did not, I'm sorry to say," the man answered.
"Then that clue is no good," spoke Russ, with a sigh.
"It might be," put in Ruth. "The messenger was probably engaged from the office nearest here. We could find that and make some inquiries."
"So we could!" cried Alice. "Oh, Ruth, you're a dear!"
Russ looked as though he would have said the same thing had he dared.
An inquiry over the telephone to the main office of the messenger service, brought the desired information. And soon, in their taxicab Russ, Ruth and Alice were at the sub-station. There the identity of the messenger was soon learned, and he was sent for.
"Sure, I went to de machine shop," admitted the snub-nosed, freckled-faced lad. "I got some sort of a thing. I didn't know what it was."
"And where did you take it?" asked Russ eagerly.
"Right where dem men told me to. Dey met me around de corner, got in de cab and rode off wid it."
"And what did you do?" asked the manager of the messenger.
"Oh, dey gave me carfare, an' a tip, and I come back here."
"But where did they go?" asked Russ.
"Off in de taxi. I didn't notice."
Russ looked hopeless, but Ruth exclaimed:
"We've got to go back to the taxi office and see the chauffeur of that car. He's the only one who can tell us where the men are."
"Good!" cried Russ. "We'll do it."
Back again they went, to find that the car had just come in, after a long trip. The chauffeur readily gave the address to which he had driven the two men, after the messenger boy had gotten out. It was in an obscure section of Jersey City.
"And there's where I'm going!" cried Russ. "Wolley and Brisket are probably going to try to work their scheme from there. But maybe I can stop them."
"I—I think we had better go home, Alice dear," said Ruth gently, at this point.
"Yes," sighed the other, "though I'd love to be there at the finish!"
"Alice!" gasped her sister.
"Well, I would," she said, defiantly.
"Maybe it wouldn't be best," suggested Russ. "I'll get a friend of mine, though. Now shall I take you home?"
"No, indeed!" cried Ruth. "That will delay you. You go right on after them. Alice and I can get home all right. It isn't late."
"It will give me pleasure if the young ladies will allow me to send them home in one of our cabs," put in the manager. "I am sorry that any of our men was used in a criminal manner."
"It wasn't your fault," spoke Russ. "But I guess the girls will be glad to be sent home. I'll keep on. I haven't any time to lose."
And while he sped off in his taxi, in pursuit of the men who were trying to cheat him out of his patent, Ruth and Alice took their places in another cab, and were driven back to the Fenmore Apartment.
CHAPTER XXV
THE CAPTURE
Mr. DeVere was rather worried when he reached home, and found his daughters' note. He puzzled over what could have taken them out with Russ, and went across the hall to inquire. By this time Mrs. Dalwood had returned, and found the note her son had left.
There was not much information in it—Russ had not had time for that—and the mystery seemed all the deeper.
"I wonder what I had better do?" asked Mr. DeVere of Mrs. Dalwood.
"Just don't do anything—and don't worry," she advised. "I know your daughters are able to take care of themselves—especially Miss Alice."
"Yes, she seems very capable—of late," he agreed, remembering how she had worked to get him into the moving picture business.
"And with Russ no harm will come to them," went on Mrs. Dalwood. "He's a good boy."
"Indeed he is! But I wish I knew what it was all about."
There was the honk of an auto horn in the street below, and as they looked out, they saw, in the gleam of a street lamp, Ruth and Alice alighting.
"There they are now!" exclaimed Mr. DeVere, with a note of relief in his voice.
"But Russ isn't with them!" said Mrs. Dalwood, in surprise. "I wonder what can have happened to him?"
Anxiously the two parents waited until the girls came up.
"Oh, such a time!" cried Alice, breathlessly.
"Where's Russ?" demanded his mother.
"After the men—Simp Wolley and Bud Brisket!"
"Oh, those horrid men!"
"He's all right," said Ruth, gently. "He is going to get Mr. Pertell and an officer to go with him."
"But what is it all about?" asked Mr. DeVere.
Then, rather disjointedly, and with many interruptions, the girls told the story of the afternoon and evening, for it was now nearly nine o'clock. Of course Mr. DeVere and Mrs. Dalwood were much worried when they learned what had happened, and the widow was not at her ease when she thought of her son still not out of danger.
"But I'm sure he will soon be back," declared Alice, confidently. She was a great comfort in trouble—a real optimist.
Then followed a period of anxious waiting.
It was broken by the return of Russ, rather disheveled, tired and excited, but with his precious model safe in the taxicab with him and Mr. Pertell.
"Why, Russ, where have you been?" cried Mrs. Dalwood.
"I just wish I'd been there!" exclaimed Billy. "Was there a fight, Russ?"
"A—little one," he admitted, with a glance at the girls. "But it was soon over."
"And where are the men now?" asked Alice.
"Safe in jail."
Then he told what had happened.
After Alice and Ruth had gone home in the taxicab he had called for Mr. Pertell, explaining what had occurred. A special officer was engaged, and the three went to the address in Jersey City, where Wolley and Brisket had gone with the model. The place was in a rather disreputable neighborhood. In a back room, which was approached with caution, the two plotters were found with a draughtsman whom they had hired to make drawings of the model.
The two scoundrels were taken by surprise and easily overpowered, after a short resistance. The draughtsman was an innocent party, and was allowed to go, after promising to give evidence against Wolley and Brisket. The latter were put under arrest, and with his precious model safe in his possession Russ started for home.
"They didn't have time to do a thing!" exclaimed the young inventor, enthusiastically. "Thanks to you girls."
"Oh, we didn't do anything," said Ruth, modestly.
"I think you did!" cried Russ, looking at her admiringly.
"It was all Alice!" she said.
"'Twas you who thought of the most practical plans!" insisted the younger girl. "Oh, Russ! I'm so glad!"
"And so am I," said Ruth, softly.
"Well, I must say, for two girls who haven't been much in public life, you two are coming on," said Mr. DeVere, in his hoarse tones. "But I am glad of it!"
The prompt action of Alice and Ruth, enabling Russ to recover his invention, worked against the plans of the plotters. They were easily convicted of fraud, and sent to prison. As for the invention of Russ, he soon perfected it, and put it out on royalty. Many moving picture machine men agreed to use it on their projectors, and to pay him a sum each year for the privilege. So Russ was assured of a goodly income for some time.
* * * * *
"Well," said Ruth the next morning, as she and Alice arose late after their evening of excitement, "now that is over, the next matter to be considered is: What are we going to do from now on?"
"Act in moving pictures, I should say," replied Alice. "We seem to be committed to it now. I wonder how that big drama came out? I hope it's a success. For I do so want to go on the rural circuit; don't you?"
"I think I do," answered Ruth.
"Russ is going along to make the pictures, I believe," added Alice, softly.
"Is he?" asked Ruth, with an air of indifference. "And I suppose Paul Ardite will be one of the company," she added.
"How'd you guess?" laughed Alice.
"A little bird told me."
Two days later the entire company who had taken part in the making of the big film, scenes of which were laid on the yacht, were invited to see the pictures projected.
From the very first it was seen that the play was going to be a success—at least from a mechanical standpoint and some time later it was demonstrated to be a success from a popular one also.
The girls looked on while the pictures of themselves, their father and others of the company were thrown on the white screen. They saw the scene at the gang-plank, where the runaway had almost spoiled it, but there was no sign of the horse in the pictures. Sandy Apgar had taken care of that.
"I really must go out to see his farm," said Mr. Pertell. "I believe it may be just the place for us. But I wonder what made Sandy so sad, and so much in need of money? Perhaps I can help him."
There came the incident of Pepper Sneed falling down with the lifeboat.
"Look! Look!" cried the grouchy actor. "I don't like that! It makes me ridiculous. I demand that it be taken out, Mr. Pertell!"
"Can't do it! That's the best part of the play!" laughed the manager.
"And as for me—I positively refuse to act again, if I am to be shown as a sailor, in those ridiculous white trousers!" cried Wellington Bunn.
"Very well, then, I suppose you don't care to go on the rural circuit with us," said Mr. Pertell.
"Oh—er—ah! Um! Well, you may with-hold my resignation for a time," said the Shakespearean actor, stiffly. "But it is against my principles."
"Then we are going on the rural circuit?" asked Alice, eagerly.
"Yes," the manager assured her. "This play is going to be a big success, I'm sure. I want to try a new kind now—outdoor scenes."
And that the play was a success was soon evidenced by the receipts which poured into the treasury of the Comet Film Company.
"Oh, what do you imagine it will be like—in the country?" asked Ruth of Alice, a little later, when it was definitely decided that they were to go.
"I don't know," answered Alice. "It depends on what happens."
And what did happen may be learned by reading the next volume of this series, to be called: "The Moving Picture Girls at Oak Farm; Or, Queer Happenings While Taking Rural Plays."
"Well, I'll be glad of a little rest," said Alice, one day, when they were coming from the studio, after having posed in some scenes for a little parlor drama.
"So will I," agreed Ruth. "We have been very busy these last two weeks."
"Especially since we helped Russ to get back his patent," added her sister. "And now for Oak Farm!"
"Oh, then it's been definitely decided that we are to go there?"
"Yes, Mr. Pertell said he went out there, met Sandy Apgar and arranged to use the place. We're to board there, too. I guess it will be a help to the Apgars. Mr. Pertell said they needed money. And, Ruth, he said there was some sort of a mystery out there, too."
"A mystery? What sort?"
"I don't know. We'll have to wait until we get there. Come on, let's hurry home and tell daddy."
And now, for a time, we will take leave of the Moving Picture Girls.
THE END
THE JANICE DAY SERIES
By HELEN BEECHER LONG
12 mo, cloth, illustrated, and colored jacket
A series of books for girls which have been uniformly successful. Janice Day is a character that will live long in juvenile fiction. Every volume is full of inspiration. There is an abundance of humor, quaint situations, and worth-while effort, and likewise plenty of plot and mystery.
An ideal series for girls from nine to sixteen.
JANICE DAY, THE YOUNG HOMEMAKER
JANICE DAY AT POKETOWN
THE TESTING OF JANICE DAY
HOW JANICE DAY WON
THE MISSION OF JANICE DAY
THE NAN SHERWOOD SERIES
By Annie Roe Carr
12 mo, cloth, illustrated, and colored jacket
In Annie Roe Carr we have found a young woman of wide experience among girls—in schoolroom, in camp and while traveling. She knows girls of to-day thoroughly—their likes and dislikes—and knows that they demand almost as much action as do the boys. And she knows humor—good, clean fun and plenty of it.
NAN SHERWOOD AT PINE CAMP or The Old Lumberman's Secret
NAN SHERWOOD AT LAKEVIEW HALL or The Mystery of the Haunted Boathouse
NAN SHERWOOD'S WINTER HOLIDAYS or Rescuing the Runaways
NAN SHERWOOD AT ROSE RANCH or The Old Mexican's Treasure
NAN SHERWOOD AT PALM BEACH or Strange Adventures Among the Orange Groves
THE END |
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