"I'll do my best," promised Mr. Macksey. "But I'm not used to that sort of work."

However, when the preliminary scenes for the big drama were filmed he did some excellent acting, the more so as he was totally unconscious that he was acting.

Several days were spent in making films of the play, for Mr. Pertell wanted to take advantage of the snow.

"It won't last a great while longer," remarked the hunter. "It's getting warm, and there'll be a thaw, soon."

He proved to be a true weather prophet for in two weeks there was scarcely a vestige of the snow left. It grew warm, and rained, and there was so much water about, from the rain and melting snow, that it was nearly as difficult to get about as it had been in the big drifts.

But the thaw proved an advantage in one way, for it opened up the roads that had been well-nigh impassable, and mail and other supplies came through.

The storm, while it gave Mr. Pertell a chance to make some fine pictures, had one drawback. He was not able to send the reels of film in to New York for development and printing. He lost considerable time and some money on this account, but it could not be helped.

But with the passing of the snow the highways were clear, and traffic to and from the village was made easy.

One day Mr. Macksey came back from town with a good-sized bag, filled with mail for the picture players.

"Oh, here's a letter for you, Ruth, and one for me!" cried Alice, as she sorted them over. "One for daddy, too! Oh, it's a big one!"

The moving picture girls were busy over their epistles for some time, as there proved to be a number of missives for them, from relatives, and from friends they had made since posing for the camera. But when Alice read all hers and was passing some of them to her sister, she happened to glance at her father's face.

"Why Daddy!" she cried, "what is the matter?"

"Oh—nothing!" he murmured, hoarsely for he had caught a little cold, and his voice was almost as bad as it had been at first.

"But I'm sure it's something!" Alice insisted. "Is it bad news? Ruth, make him tell!"

The three were in Mr. DeVere's room, where they had gone to look over the mail.

"Oh, it isn't anything!" declared the actor, and he tried to slip into his coat pocket the letter in the large envelope that Alice had handed to him.

"I'm sure it is," she insisted. "Please tell me, Daddy."

The letter fell to the floor, and Alice could not help seeing that it was from a firm of New York lawyers.

"Oh, is it the trouble about the five hundred dollars?" the girl cried. "Is Dan Merley making more trouble?"

"Yes," answered Mr. DeVere. "He has brought suit against me, it seems. This is a notice from the lawyers that if I do not pay within a certain time I will be brought to court, and compelled to hand over the money."

"Can they make you do that, Daddy?" asked Ruth, anxiously.

"I'm afraid they can, my dear. As I told you, I have no proof, except my own word, that I paid Merley. He still holds my note, and that is legal evidence against me. Oh, if I had only been more business-like!"

"Never mind, Daddy!" Alice comforted him, putting her arms about his neck. "Perhaps there will be a way out."

"I hope so," her father murmured, in broken tones.

"How did the lawyers know you were here?" asked Ruth.

"They didn't. They sent it to the apartment, and the postman forwarded it to me."

"They can't sue you up here in this wilderness though; can they?" asked Alice.

"I don't know anything about the law part of it," replied Mr. DeVere. "I presume, though, that they can sue me anywhere, even though I have paid the money, as long as Merley holds that note. They can make a great deal of trouble if they wish."

"Poor Daddy!" Ruth sighed.

"Oh, but I mustn't make you worry this way," he said spiritedly. "I shall find some way to fight this case. I'll never give in to that scoundrel."

"I wonder where he is?" mused Alice. "We thought he was injured in the accident, and would not bother you."

"This notice does not mention him," replied Mr. DeVere, as he paused over the letter again. "It merely speaks of him as 'our client.' He may be in the hospital, for all I can tell."

They discussed the matter from all viewpoints, but there was nothing to be done.

"You will have to reply to the lawyers, though; won't you, daddy?" asked Ruth.

"Oh, yes, I must write to them. I shall state the case plainly, and, though, I have no proof, I shall ask them to drop the suit, as it is an unjust one."

"And if they don't?" suggested Alice.

"If they don't—well, I suppose I shall have to suffer," he replied, quietly. "I cannot raise the money now."

"Oh dear!" cried Alice, half petulantly. "I wish the blizzard was still here!"

"Why, Alice!" cried Ruth.

"Well, I do! Then there wouldn't have been any mail, and daddy wouldn't have received this horrid letter."

"Oh, well, it's best to know the plans of one's enemies," said Mr. DeVere. "Now I know what to expect. I think I shall write to Dan Merley myself, and appeal to his better nature. Surely, even though he was not entirely sober when I paid him the money, he must recall that I did. I confess I do not know whether he is merely under the impression that I did not pay him, or is deliberately telling a falsehood. It is hard to decide," he added, with a sigh.

Mr. DeVere sent a letter to Merley the next day, and a few days later an answer came back from New York, from the same firm of lawyers who had served the legal notice, to the effect that their client had left the matter entirely in their hands, and that the money must be paid. Mr. Merley, the lawyer said, preferred to have no direct communication with Mr. DeVere.

"That settles it! They mean to push the case to the limit!" exclaimed the actor.



CHAPTER XXI

IN THE STORM

"That's the way to drive!"

"Come on now!"

"Faster, if you can make the horses go!"

"Get all that in, Russ!"

It was a lively scene, for a spirited race in cutters was in progress between Mr. Bunn and Mr. Sneed. It was taking place on the frozen surface of the lake, and each actor had been instructed to do his best to win. The race was a scene in the big snow drama, and it was being filmed several days after the events narrated in the preceding chapter.

The thaw was over, there had been a spell of cold weather, and Deerfield was icebound. The lake was a glittering expanse, and the ice on it was thick enough to support a regiment.

"A little more to the left, Mr. Sneed!" called Russ, who was taking the pictures. "I want to get a better side view."

"But if I go too far to the left I'm afraid I'll run into Mr. Bunn," objected the gloomy actor.

"No matter if you do—if you don't run into him too hard," cried Mr. Pertell. "It will make it look more natural."

"If he runs into me—and does me any damage—I shall sue him and you too!" declared Mr. Bunn. "This is a farcical idea, anyhow. You said I might get a chance to do some Shakespearean work up here; but so far I have done nothing."

"I'll see what I can do on that line next week," promised the manager. "Go on with this race now. The idea is for you, Mr. Sneed, to be in pursuit of Mr. Bunn. You must look as though you really wanted to catch him. Put some spirit into your acting."

"It is too cold!" complained Mr. Sneed. "I would a great deal rather be sitting beside the fire in the Lodge."

"No doubt," commented Mr. Pertell, drily. "But that won't make moving pictures. Come on, now, start your horses again," for they had, so far, been only rehearsing.

Finally Mr. Pertell was satisfied that the play would be done to his satisfaction, and gave the word for Russ to start unreeling the film.

Away started the two cutters over the ice, and the two actors really managed to put a little enthusiasm into their work. Then, as Russ called to Mr. Sneed to edge over a little to the left, as he had done before, at the rehearsal, the gloomy actor pulled too hard on one rein. His horse swerved too much, and, the next instant, the cutter upset, and Mr. Sneed was neatly deposited on the ice.

Fortunately he fell clear of the vehicle, and was not entangled in the reins, so he was not hurt. The horse, an intelligent animal, feeling that something was wrong, came to a stop after running a little distance.

"Stop! Stop!" called Mr. Pertell to Mr. Bunn, who was still urging on his horse, unaware of the accident to his fellow actor. "The scene is spoiled. Don't take that, Russ. Sometimes I like an accident on the film, but not in this case. It would spoil the action of the play. It will have to be done over again."

"Not with me in it!" said Mr. Sneed, as he got up and went limping toward shore.

"Why not?" asked Mr. Pertell. "Why don't you want to do this act?"

"Because I am hurt. I knew something would happen when I got up this morning, and it certainly has. I may be injured for life by this."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the manager. "You're not hurt. You only think so. Here, Mrs. Maguire, give him that bottle of witch hazel I saw you use for little Tommy the other day. That will fix you up, Mr. Sneed."

"Humph!" exclaimed the "grouch." And then, as the motherly Irish woman, with a quizzical smile on her face, started to the house for the liniment, Mr. Sneed said:

"Oh, you needn't make such a fuss over me. I suppose I can go on with this, if I am suffering. Bring back the horse."

The overturned cutter was righted, and the play went on. This time no mishap occurred and the race was run to a successful finish.

"Now, Alice and Ruth, you will get into the larger cutter, and with Paul for a driver we'll make the next scene," directed Mr. Pertell, and so the making of the play went on.

The filming of the big drama was to occupy several days, as some of the scenes were laid in distant parts of the game preserve belonging to Elk Lodge, and there was not time to take the company there, and come back for other scenes, the darkness falling early, as the year was dying.

There came fair weather, and storms, alternating. A number of fine films were obtained by Russ, some of them showing weather effects, and others views of the ice at the falls where the two girls and their companions had been imprisoned in the ice cave.

It was on one comparatively warm afternoon that Alice, who had been out in the barn to give some sugar to a favorite horse, came back and called to Ruth:

"Let's go for a walk. It's perfectly lovely out, and it will do us both good."

"All right!" agreed Ruth. "I've been sewing all morning and my eyes are tired. Where are you going?"

"Oh, in a direction we have never taken before."

"Don't get lost," advised their father.

"We won't," returned Alice. "Don't you want to come, Daddy?"

"Too busy. I'm studying a new part," he said.

So the two moving picture girls started off, and soon were tramping through the woods, following an old lumber trail.

"This leads to the camp of Flaming Arrow," said Alice, for they had paid the promised visit some time before. "Shall we take it?"

"Yes, but not all the way to the lumber camp," objected Ruth. "That is too far."

"Oh, I wouldn't think of going there now," responded Alice. "I mean to branch off on the new path I spoke of."

The day was pleasant, but there was the hint of a storm in the feeling of the air and in the clouds, and the hint was borne out a little later, for a fine snow began sifting down.

The girls kept on, however though Ruth wanted to turn back at the first white flake.

"There's going to be a storm," she declared.

"What of it?" asked Alice, with a merry laugh. "It will be all the more fun!"

But a little later, when the wind suddenly sprang into fury, and lashed the flakes into their faces with cutting force, even Alice was ready to turn back.

"Come on," she cried to her sister. "We'd better not go to the snow grotto—that was a natural curiosity I wanted to show you. But we'll have to wait until another time."

"I should think so!" exclaimed Ruth. "This is terrible! Oh, suppose we should be lost?"

"How can we be, when all we have to do is to follow the path back to Elk Lodge?"

Alice thought it would be as easily done as she had said, and Ruth trusted to the fact that her sister had been that way on a previous occasion. But neither of them realized the full force of the storm, nor how easy it was to mistake the way in blinding snow.

They emerged from a little clump of woods, and then they felt the full force of the blast in their faces.

"Oh, Alice, we can't go on!" cried Ruth, halting and turning her face aside.

"But we must!" Alice insisted. "We've got to get back. We can't stay out in this snow. It's a small-sized blizzard now, and it is growing worse."

"Oh, what shall we do?" cried Ruth, almost sobbing.

"We must keep on!" declared Alice, grimly.

They locked arms and bent their heads before the blast. They tried to keep to the path, but after a few moments of battling with the storm, Ruth cried:

"Alice where are we?"

"On the way to Elk Lodge, of course."

"No, we're not. We're off the path! See, we didn't come past this big rock before," and she pointed to one that reared up from the snow.

Alice paused for a moment, and then, with a curious note of fear in her voice, she said:

"I—I am afraid we are lost, Ruth. Oh, it is all my fault!"



CHAPTER XXII

THE THREE MEN

They stood there together—the two moving picture girls—in the midst of the sudden storm. They stood with their arms about each other, and the frightened eyes of Alice gazed into the terror-stricken ones of Ruth.

"Alice," cried Ruth, "do you really think we are lost?"

"I'm afraid so. I didn't notice which way we were going; but, as you say, we didn't pass that rock before. We must be lost!"

"But what are we to do?"

"We've got to do something, that's sure!" Alice exclaimed. "We can't stay here and freeze."

"Of course not. But if we go on in the storm we may be snowed under."

"And I'm more afraid to stay here. We must keep on the move, Ruth."

"Yes, I suppose so. Oh, if we could only see our way! We can't be so very far from Elk Lodge."

"We are not," agreed Alice. "We did not walk fast, and we have not been gone very long. The Lodge can't be more than two miles away; but it might just as well be two hundred for all the good that does us in this storm."

Indeed the snow was so thick that it was impossible to see many feet ahead. The white flakes swirled, seeming to come first from one direction, and then from another. The wind blew from all points of the compass, varying so quickly that the girls found it impossible to keep it at their backs.

"Well, there is one thing we can do," said Alice, when they had advanced a few steps and then retreated, not knowing whether it was better to keep on or not.

"And what is it?" asked Ruth. "If there's any one thing to do in a case like this I want to know it."

"We can go over behind that rock and get a little protection from the wind and snow," Alice went on. "See, the snow has drifted on one side; and the other is quite bare. That shows it affords some shelter. Let's go over there."

"Come on," agreed Ruth. She caught her sister's arm in a firmer grasp, and the two girls plowed their way through the snow. They had, heretofore, been on a sort of path, that had been formed over the crust. The girls had on their snowshoes or they would have scarcely been able to progress. As it was the going was sufficiently difficult.

"Oh, wait a moment!" panted Ruth, half way to the sheltering rock.

"What's the matter?" asked Alice, quickly. "Are you ill?"

"No, don't worry about me, dear. I'm only—out of breath!"

"I positively believe you're getting stout!" laughed Alice, and Ruth was glad that she could laugh, even in the face of impending danger. "You must take more exercise," she went on.

"I'm getting plenty of it now," observed Ruth. "Oh, but it is hard going in this snow!"

Together they struggled on, and finally reached the rock. As Alice had surmised, the big boulder did give them shelter, and they were grateful for it, as they were quite exhausted by their battle with the storm.

"What a relief!" sighed Alice, as she leaned back against the big stone.

"Oh, isn't it!" agreed Ruth. "But, Alice, if we are so played out by that little trip, how are we ever going to get back to Elk Lodge?"

"I don't know, dear," was the hesitating answer. "But we must get back. Maybe the snow will stop after a little, and we can see our way. That is really all we need—to see the path. I'm sure I've been out in worse storms than this."

"It is bad enough," responded Ruth, apprehensively. "See how it snows!"

Indeed the white flakes were coming down with increased violence, and the wind swept and howled about the rock with a melancholy sound. The girls huddled close together.

"Can you ever forgive me for bringing you out in such weather as this?" begged Alice, self-reproachfully.

"It wasn't your fault at all, dear," Ruth reassured her and her arms went about her sister in a loving embrace. "I wanted to come. Neither of us knew this storm would make us get lost."

Alice said nothing for a moment. She was busy arranging a scarf more tightly about her throat, for she felt the flakes blowing and sifting on her, and did not want to take cold. The girls were warmly dressed, which was in their favor.

For five or ten minutes they remained under the lee of the rock, not knowing what to do. They realized, though neither wanted to mention it to the other, that they could not remain there very long. Night would settle down, sooner or later, and they could not remain out without shelter. Yet where could they go?

"If it would only stop!" cried Ruth.

"Yes, or if someone from Elk Lodge would come after us!" added Alice.

"I'm sure they will!" cried Ruth, catching at this slender hope. "Oh, Alice, I'm sure they'll come."

"And so am I, as far as that is concerned," agreed Alice. "The only trouble is they will not know where to come. Don't you see?"

"But they know where we were going—you mentioned it to daddy."

"I know, but don't you understand, my dear, we're not where we said we would go. We're lost—we're off the path. If it was only a question of someone from the Lodge following the proper path it would be all right. But we're far from it, and they will have no idea where to search for us."

"Couldn't they trail us with—with bloodhounds?"

"Oh, I don't believe it will get as desperate as that. Not that there are any bloodhounds at Elk Lodge. But there are some hunting dogs, and I presume they might be able to follow our trail. Won't it seem odd to be trailed by dogs? Just as if we were fugitive slaves!"

"I don't care how they trail us, as long as we get back to Elk Lodge!" and there was a sob in Ruth's voice.

The next moment Alice, on whose shoulder Ruth had laid her head, uttered a cry.

"Oh, what is it?" asked the elder girl. "Do you see someone? Are they coming for us?"

"No, but the snow is stopping, and I can see a house—two of them, in fact."

"A house! Good! Is it far off?"

"No, not far. Come on, I believe we can reach it."

As Alice had said, the snow had ceased falling almost as suddenly as it had set in, and this gave the girls a clear view. They had made a little turn from their original direction in getting to the rock, and they had a view down in a little glade. There, as Alice had said, nestled two houses; or, rather log cabins. One was of large size, and the other smaller.

"Let's go there!" suggested Alice. "We can get shelter, and perhaps there is someone in one of the cabins who will take us to Elk Lodge. We can offer to pay him."

"They wouldn't want it," declared Ruth. "But come on. We mustn't lose any time, for the snow may set in again at any moment. We must get there while we can see."

The wind, too, had died out somewhat, so that it was comparatively easy travelling now. Together the girls made their way over the snow toward the smaller of the two cabins, that being the nearer.

They reached it, struggling, panting and out of breath, and after waiting a moment, to allow their laboring hearts to quiet down, that they might speak less brokenly, Alice knocked at the door. There was no answer.

"Oh, suppose they should not be home?" cried Ruth.

"That seems to be the case," spoke Alice, as she knocked again, without result.

"What shall we do—go to the other cabin?" asked Ruth.

"Let's see if this one is open," proposed Alice. "They may be hospitable enough to have left the door unlocked."

As she spoke she tried the latch. Somewhat to her surprise the door did open, and then to the astonishment of both girls they found themselves in an unoccupied cabin.

"Oh dear!" cried Ruth. "What a disappointment!"

"Isn't it?" agreed Alice. "Well, we can try the other."

They stood for a moment in the main room of the small cabin, and looked about. There was nothing in it save a few boxes.

"We could make a fire—I have matches, and we could break up the boxes on the hearth," said Alice. "Shall we?"

"No, let's go to the other cabin. I'm sure someone will be there," suggested her sister.

"Come on!"

They stepped to the door, but at that instant the snow began again, harder than before.

"No use!" cried Alice. "We're doomed to stay here, I guess."

"Well, it's a shelter, at any rate," sighed Ruth. She was not frightened now.

"And there's another good thing," went on Alice. "These cabins are a definite place. If a searching party starts out for us Mr. Macksey will be sure to think about these, and look here for us. I think we are all right now."

"We're better off, at any rate," observed Ruth. "I believe we might make a fire, Alice."

"That's what I say."

They had taken off their snowshoes, and now, by stamping and kicking at the boxes, they managed to break them up into kindling wood. Soon a little blaze was crackling on the hearth. The warmth was grateful to the chilled girls.

They stood before it toasting their cold hands, and then, when Ruth went to the window to look out, she called:

"It's stopped snowing again. Don't you think we'd better run to the other cabin while we have the chance?"

"I suppose it would be wise," agreed Alice. "We really ought to start for Elk Lodge, and we could if we had a guide. Come on."

Together they started for the larger cabin, but when half way to it they saw three men coming out. The men had guns over their shoulders, and they headed down the trail, away from the girls.

Not before, however, the two sisters had a good view of the features of the trio. And instantly the same thought came to both.

"Did you see who one of those men was?" gasped Ruth.

"Yes, it is he! And those are the same two men who were with him before," answered Alice.

"Dan Merley—the man who is going to sue daddy for that five hundred dollars!" went on Ruth, clasping her hands.

"And with him are the two men who were present when the street car accident happened in New York—Fripp and Jagle. They are the hunters who have been annoying Mr. Macksey."

"Oh, what shall we do?" asked Ruth. "We can't appeal to them for help, not after the way Merley behaved to us."

"Of course not! Oh, isn't it provoking? Just as we see help we can't avail ourselves of it. The men are getting farther and farther away," Alice went on. "If we are going to appeal to them we must be quick about it."

"Don't call to them!" exclaimed Ruth. "It might be dangerous. They haven't noticed us—let them go. But Alice, did you see how Merley seems to have recovered from his accident? He walks as well as the others."

"Yes, so he does. I'm glad they didn't see us. But I have a plan. There may be other persons in the cabin. When the three men are out of sight, and they will be in the woods in a little while, we can go and ask help of whoever is left in the cabin."

"Yes," agreed Ruth, and they waited, going back to the small cabin. "I remember now," Ruth added after a pause, "that man who was in the bushes the time of the coasting race was Fripp. I knew I had seen him somewhere before, but I could not recall him then."



CHAPTER XXIII

THE PLAN OF RUSS

The three men, with their guns on their shoulders, passed out of sight into a clump of woodland.

"Now's our chance," said Alice. "We'll slip over to the other cabin, and see if we can get help. These men are evidently up here on a hunting trip, and they may have a man cook, or some sort of help in the cabin. Whoever it is can't refuse to at least set us on the right road. We don't need to mention that Mr. Merley is going to sue our father."

"I should say not," agreed Ruth. "Oh, that horrid man! I never want to see him again. But isn't it queer how soon he recovered from his injury?"

"Rather odd. We must tell daddy about it when we get back."

"If we ever do," sighed the older girl.

"If we ever do?" repeated Alice. "Why of course we'll get back. I don't believe it is going to storm any more."

"I hope not."

On their snowshoes the moving picture girls made their way to the second cabin. But again disappointment awaited them, for there was no answer to their repeated knocks.

"No one at home," spoke Alice. "Shall we try to go in?"

"It would do no good," Ruth decided. "If it is shelter we want we can get it at the other cabin. And as there is no one at home here we can't ask our way. Besides, those men might come back unexpectedly, and I wouldn't have Merley and his two companions find us in their cabin for anything!"

"Neither would I. That Merley would be mean enough," Alice declared, "to charge us rent, and add that to the five hundred dollars he is going to make daddy pay."

"Oh, Alice! What queer ideas you have. But, dear, we mustn't linger here. I wonder if it would do to follow those men?"

"Follow them? What in the world for?"

"Why they seem to have taken some sort of a trail, and it may lead out to a road that will take us to Elk Lodge."

"It isn't very likely," Alice declared. "I'm sure I know the general direction in which Elk Lodge lies, and it's just opposite from where those men went. I think, now, that the storm has stopped, that we can get back on the path."

"Then, for goodness sakes, let's try!" proposed Ruth. "It seems to be getting darker. Oh, if they would only come for us!"

"Let us try to help ourselves first," counseled Alice.

The girls retraced their steps, going back toward the smaller cabin. They stopped in for a moment to see that the blaze they had kindled on the hearth was out, for they did not want a chance spark to set fire to the place. But the embers were cold and dead, for the wood had been light, and there was not much of it.

Then gliding over the crust on their snowshoes, Ruth and Alice got back to the sheltering rock.

"Let me look about a bit," Alice requested. "I think I can pick up the trail again. If I could only get back to the point where we got off from I would be all right."

She walked about a little and then, passing through a small clump of trees, while Ruth remained at the rock, Alice suddenly gave a joyful cry.

"I've found it!" she called. "Come on, Ruth. It's all right. I'm on the proper path now."

Ruth hurried to join her sister, and confirmed the good news. They recognized the path by which they had come, and soon they were traveling along it, certain, now, that they were headed for Elk Lodge.

And their adventures seemed to be over for that day at least, for, on covering about three-quarters of a mile they were delighted to see, hurrying toward them, Russ and Paul.

"There are the boys!" cried Alice.

"And I was never more glad to see anyone in all my life!" exclaimed Ruth.

"We're not lost now, and don't really need them," said Alice.

"Well, don't tell them that—especially after they have been so good as to come for us," advised Ruth.

"Silly! Of course I won't!"

"Well, you two seem to have the oddest faculty for getting into trouble!" cried Russ as he and Paul reached the girls. "The whole Lodge is worried to death about you, and we're all out searching for you."

"Oh, it's too bad we gave so much trouble," responded Ruth, contritely. "But we couldn't help it. We were lost in the storm."

"We thought that likely," Paul said. "Your father is quite worried."

"Is he out searching, too?" Alice asked.

"No, his throat troubles him," the young actor replied. "But every other man at the Lodge is. Mr. Macksey told us to come this way, and if we didn't locate you we were to meet him at some place where there are two cabins."

"We just came from there," Ruth said, "and we had the oddest adventure. I'll tell you about it when we get back. We tried to get a guide to show us the path, but as it happened we didn't need one. Oh, I believe it's snowing again!"

Some white flakes were sifting down.

"It's only a little flurry," decided Paul. "And it won't matter, for the path back is very plain now. But what happened?"

The girls told him, and when he heard that Merley was in the neighborhood, and apparently uninjured, Russ said:

"I always thought that fellow was a faker. I'd like to know what his game was."

"Do you think it is a game?" asked Alice.

"Yes, and I think it's more of a game than the game they are after up here. I think they're hatching some plot."

They arrived at Elk Lodge a little later, and leaving the girls with their father, Russ and Paul went after the other searchers, to tell them that the lost ones were found.

"You must not go away alone again," cautioned Mr. DeVere to his daughters, when all the searchers had returned, and there was a joyful reunion in the big living room.

"We won't!" promised Alice. "I was really a bit frightened this time."

"A bit frightened!" cried Ruth. "I was awfully scared! I could see us both frozen stiff under the snow, and the dogs nosing us out as they do travelers in the Alps."

"I'm glad that didn't happen," laughed Russ. "For I suppose if it had Mr. Pertell would have insisted on having a moving picture of it, and I would have been too prostrated with grief to be able to work the camera."

"Well, we're all right now," declared Alice. "And such an appetite as I have!"

"Did you tell your father about Dan Merley?" asked Russ.

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Ruth. "Listen Daddy, whom do you think we saw?"

"Not Dan Merley up here?" cried the actor.

"Yes, he was with two other men—those who were with him when he was hurt by the street car."

"Dan Merley up here?" mused Mr. DeVere. "I wonder what he can want? Can he be going to make trouble for me?"

"We won't let him, Daddy!" cried Alice. "If he walks over here to ask for that five hundred dollars again, I'll——"

"You say he was walking around?" cried Mr. DeVere.

"Yes, on snowshoes," answered Ruth. "He was walking as well as anyone."

"And he was supposed to be seriously hurt!" murmured the actor. "Where is that paper?" and he looked about him.

"What paper?" asked Ruth.

"That New York paper I was just reading. There is something in it I want to show you. I begin to see through this."

The journal was found, and Mr. DeVere glanced through it rapidly, looking for some item. Russ and the two girls watched him curiously.

"Here it is!" cried the actor. "It is headed 'Brings Damage Suit for Ten Thousand Dollars.' Listen, I'll just give you the main facts. It says Dan Merley had started an action in one of the courts demanding ten thousand dollars' damages for being hurt by a street car. Merley claims he will never be able to walk again, because his back is permanently hurt. And yet you saw him walking?" he appealed to the two girls.

"We certainly saw him," declared Ruth.

"Then that is a bogus damage suit. He isn't hurt at all. The court should know of this, and so should the street car company. I shall write to them!"

"Wait!" cried Russ. "I have a better idea."

"What is it?" asked Mr. DeVere.

"I'll get some moving pictures of him," went on the young operator. "I'll take a film, showing him tramping around, hunting, and when that is shown to the street car company's lawyer I guess that will put an end to Mr. Merley's suit. I'll film the faker!"



CHAPTER XXIV

THE PROOF ON THE FILM

Enthusiastic over his new idea, Russ gazed triumphantly at Mr. DeVere and the two girls. They did not seem to comprehend.

"What—what was that you said?" asked Mr. DeVere.

"I said I was going to make a moving picture of that faker," repeated Russ. "Excuse that word, but it's the only one that fits."

"Yes, he really is a faker and cheat," agreed the actor. "And, Russ, your idea is most excellent. It will be the best kind of evidence against the scoundrel, and evidence that can not be controverted."

"That's my idea," went on the young operator. "Some of these accident fakers are so clever that they fool the doctors."

"Do they really make a business of it?" asked Ruth.

"Indeed they do," Russ answered. "Sometimes a gang of men, who don't like to work for a living, plan to have a series of accidents. They decide on who shall be 'hurt,' and where. Then they get their witnesses, who will testify to anything as long as they get paid for it. They hire rascally lawyers, too. Sometimes they have fake accidents happen to their wagons or automobiles instead of themselves. And more than once conductors or motormen of cars have been in with the rascals."

"It doesn't seem possible!" protested Alice.

"It is though," her father assured her. "I read in a newspaper the other day how two fakers were found out and arrested. But they had secured a large sum in damages, so I presume they figured that it paid them. I knew Dan Merley was an unprincipled man, but I did not believe he was an accident swindler. But you can stop him, Russ."

"I don't see how you are going to do it," remarked Alice. "I mean, I don't see that Dan Merley will let you take a moving picture of him, to show to the court, proving that he is a swindler."

"I don't suppose he would—if he knew it," laughed Russ. "But I don't propose to let him see me filming him. I've got to do it on the sly, and it isn't going to be very easy. But I think I can manage it."

"I wish we could help you," said Ruth.

"Perhaps you can," the young moving picture operator answered. "I'll have to make some plans. But we've got a big day ahead of us to-morrow, and I can't do it then. I'll have to wait."

"Do you think I had better write to the court, and to the lawyers of the street car company?" asked Mr. DeVere. "Your plan might fail, Russ."

"Well, of course it might, that's a fact. But there is time enough. I'd like to try my way first, though, for it would be conclusive proof. If you sent word to the lawyers, and they sent a witness up here to get his evidence by eyesight, Merley might hear of it in some way and fool them. He might pretend to be lame again, if he knew he was being watched.

"Then, too, he could bring his own witnesses to prove that he was lame and unable to walk. It would be a case of which witnesses the court and jury would believe.

"But if I get the proof on the film—you can't go back of that. Just imagine, working a moving picture machine in one of the courts!" and he laughed at the idea.

"Perhaps you won't have to go to that end," suggested Ruth.

"No, we may be able to give Merley a hint that he had better not keep on with the suit," Mr. DeVere said. "Well, Russ, I wish you luck."

A little later all the members of the company had heard of Russ's plan and Mr. Pertell said that as soon as the big drama was finished Russ could have as much time as he wanted to try and get a moving picture film of Merley.

"I'll have to go over to that cabin, and sort of size up the situation," Russ decided. "I want to get the lay of the land, and pick out the best spot to plant my camera. I suppose it will have to be behind a clump of bushes."

"Oh, no! I know the very place for you!" cried Ruth.

"Where?" he asked.

"In the second, or small cabin. You can hide yourself there and focus your camera through the window. Then you can film him without him seeing you."

"Good!" cried Russ. "That will be the very thing!"

As Russ had said, the next day was a very busy one for him, and all the members of the company. Several important scenes in the big drama were made. A few of them were interiors, in the barn or in the living room of Elk Lodge, and for this the players were thankful, for the weather had turned cold, and it was disagreeable outdoors.

Still, some snow scenes were needed, and the work had to go on. Russ had one of his hands slightly frost-bitten using it without a glove to make some adjustments to his camera, and the tips of Mr. Sneed's ears were nipped with the cold.

This happened when the actor was doing a little bit which called for him to shovel a supposedly lost and frozen person out of a snow bank. Of course a "dummy" was put under the snow, and the real person, (in this case Mr. Bunn,) acted up to the time of the snow burial. Then a clever substitution was made and the film was exposed again. This is often done to get trick pictures.

Mr. Sneed was shoveling away at the snow bank. His ears had been very cold, but suddenly seemed to have lost all feeling. He was rather surprised, then, when the act was over, to have Mr. Switzer rush up to him with a handful of snow and hold some over each ear.

"Here! Quit that! What do you mean?" cried the grouchy actor.

"I got to do it alretty yet!" exclaimed the German.

"Quit it! Stop it!"

"No, I stops not until I haf der cold drawed out of your ears. They are frosted, mine dear chap, und dis is der only vay to make dem proper. I know, I have been in der Far North."

"That's right—it's the best way. Hold snow on your frosted ears or nose, whatever it happens to be," declared Mr. Pertell. "You can thank Mr. Switzer for saving you a lot of trouble, Mr. Sneed."

"Humph! It's a funny thing to be thankful for—because someone washes your face with snow," declared the grouchy actor.

It was two days later before Russ had time to carry out his plan of "filming the faker," as he referred to it. Then he and Paul, with Ruth and Alice, went to the two cabins. Russ took along a special moving picture camera made for fast work, and one with a lens that admitted of a long focus.

"For Merley may not come very near the small cabin," the young moving picture operator said. "I may have to get him a long way off. But I don't want to miss him."

When the four were in the vicinity of the place they proceeded cautiously, for they did not want to expose themselves. From a screen of bushes Russ took an observation, and announced that the coast was clear.

"We'll slip into the cabin, and stay there as long as we can," Russ said, and they ran across an open space. As far as they could tell they were not observed.

Two hours passed, and Russ was beginning to be afraid his plan would be a failure, for that day at least.

"But I'll come back again to-morrow, and the next day—until I film that faker!" he exclaimed. "I'm going to expose him!"

"Look!" exclaimed Paul, who was standing near a window. "There are two men over near that other cabin. Is one of them Merley?"

Russ and Alice reached the window at the same time.

"There he is!" Alice cried.

"And walking as well as any man," Russ exclaimed. "Here's where I get him!"

The moving picture camera was brought to the casement, and a moment later Russ began clicking away at it. He had it focused on Merley who, with Fripp, was walking about the other cabin. Merley walked without the suspicion of a limp, and a little later he took a shovel, and began clearing snow away from some of the walks.

"Good!" cried Russ. "Better and better! If he can do such strenuous work as that he isn't hurt. This cooks your goose, Dan Merley!"

He continued to grind away, getting the proof of the fellow's criminality on the sensitive film.

"Oh, they're coming over this way!" exclaimed Ruth. "What shall we do?"

"Nothing," declared Russ, calmly. "The nearer he comes the better pictures I can get. Don't be afraid. Paul and I are here."

Merley had indeed started toward the smaller cabin. He was walking rapidly and well, and Russ got some excellent pictures. Then Fripp, who remained at the larger cabin, called to his companion, who turned back for some reason.

"Good!" cried Russ. "I've got him going and coming! Oh, this will be great!"

He continued to grind away at the film, and soon had sufficient pictures.

"But how are we going to get away without them seeing us?" asked Alice.

"We can wait until dark," Russ said.

But there was no need. A little later the two men went into the large cabin, and presently came out with their guns. There was no sign of Jagle. But Merley and Fripp started for the woods, and as soon as they were out of sight the four emerged from the small cabin, Russ carrying his camera that now contained the proof on the film. They hurried back to Elk Lodge.



CHAPTER XXV

THE MOVING PICTURE

The last drama of the backwoods had been filmed. The unexposed reels were sent in to New York, together with the one made of Dan Merley, showing a supposedly injured man walking vigorously about.

"And now good-bye to Elk Lodge," sighed Alice, when they were packing up to go back to New York. "I'm sorry to leave it."

"So am I!" added Ruth. "We have had some lovely times here."

"And strenuous ones, too," spoke Alice.

"Oh, but won't I be glad to see dear old Broadway again!" cried Miss Pennington, affectedly.

"And won't I!" sighed Miss Dixon. "I want to see the sights."

"As if there weren't finer ones here than any in New York!" murmured Alice.

"Everyone to their notion, my dear," remarked Miss Pennington, in a pert manner.

The last days at Elk Lodge were ones of delight. For the weather was good, and there was plenty of snow, which made fine coasting. There was also skating, with a number of straw rides.

The members of the picture company gave themselves up to pleasure, and Russ put away his cameras and joined in the fun with the others.

"I don't care what happens now!" he cried. "I don't have to film it."

Paul and Russ, with the two girls, paid another visit to the vicinity of the two cabins. There was a deserted look about the larger one, and a cautious examination revealed the fact that the occupants had gone.

"I suppose he has returned to New York to prosecute his suit against the street car company," said Ruth.

"And also his one against daddy," added Alice.

Three days later the moving picture company returned to New York.

"And what are the next plans—I mean what sort of pictures are you going to make next?" asked Mr. DeVere of Mr. Pertell.

"I haven't quite made up my mind. I'll let you all know a little later," the manager answered.

"I hope it isn't any more snow and ice," remarked Mr. Bunn.

Mr. Pertell only smiled.

Mr. DeVere and his daughters went to their apartment, Russ accompanying them. His mother and brother were glad, not only to see the young operator but the DeVere family as well.

The next day Mr. DeVere received a call from a lawyer who said he represented Dan Merley.

"I have come to see if you are ready to pay that five hundred dollars before we go to court, Mr. DeVere," the lawyer said, stiffly.

"I haven't got it," answered the actor.

"Very well then, we shall sue and you will have to pay heavy costs and fees, in addition to the principal."

Mr. DeVere was very much worried, and spoke of the matter to Russ. The young operator laughed.

"Dan Merley will never collect that money," he said.

"What makes you think so?"

"I don't think—I know. Give me that lawyer's address, and then don't do anything until you hear from me."

It was two days later that Russ said to the actor:

"Can you make it convenient to be at our film studio this evening?"

"I think so—why?" asked Mr. DeVere.

"You'll see when you get there."

"May we come?" asked Ruth.

"Surely," Russ answered. "I think you'll enjoy it, too!"

Rather mystified, but somehow suspecting what was afoot, the two girls accompanied their father to the studio at the appointed hour. Russ met them and took them into the room where the films were first shown after being prepared for the projector. It was a sort of testing room.

"I think you have met this gentleman before," said Russ, as he nodded at one sitting in a corner. It was Dan Merley's lawyer.

"Oh, yes, I guess Mr. DeVere knows me," returned the latter. "I understand you have come here for a settlement," he went on.

"Yes," said Russ, smiling.

"A—a settlement!" murmured Mr. DeVere. "I—I am not prepared to settle. I have not the money!"

"You don't need the money," declared Russ. "You have brought Mr. DeVere's promissory note with you; have you not?" he asked the lawyer.

"I brought it, at your request," was the answer. "But I tell you, here and now, that it will not be surrendered until the five hundred dollars is paid."

"Oh yes," said Russ gently, "I think it will. Look! Ready!"

As he spoke the room was suddenly darkened, and then, on the big white screen, there sprang into prominence life-size moving pictures of Dan Merley, showing him walking about the backwoods cabin, and shoveling snow. The likeness was perfect.

"I—er—I—what does this mean?" stammered the lawyer, springing to his feet.

"It means that Dan Merley is a faker!" cried Russ, as the lights were turned up again, and Mr. Pertell came up from the booth where he had been working the moving picture machine.

"It means that he is a faker when he says he was injured by the street car," cried Russ, "and we're going to show these pictures in court if he persists in the suit. And it means he's a faker when he says Mr. DeVere owes him five hundred dollars. It means he's a faker from beginning to end! We've got the proof on the film!" and his voice rang out.

"Oh, Russ!" cried Ruth, and she clasped his hand in delight.

"I—er—I—" stammered Mr. DeVere as he sank into a chair.

"Daddy, you won't have to pay!" exclaimed Alice, joyfully.

"How about that, Mr. Black?" asked Russ of the lawyer. "Do you think your client will go on with the street car suit?"

"Well, my dear young man, in view of what you have shown me, I—er—I think not. In fact I know not." The lawyer was beaten and he realized it.

"And about Mr. DeVere's note?" asked Russ.

The lawyer took out his pocketbook.

"Here is the note," he muttered. "You have beaten us. I presume if we drop both suits that you will not show these pictures in court?"

"It won't be necessary," said Russ. "If the suits are withdrawn the pictures will not be shown. But they will be kept—for future reference," he added significantly.

"I understand," spoke the lawyer. "You are a very clever young man."

"Oh, the young ladies helped me," laughed Russ.

"Good-night," said the lawyer, bowing himself out.

"There you are, Mr. DeVere!" cried Russ, as they were on their way from the studio. "You'd better destroy that note. It's the only evidence Merley had, and now you have it back. Tear it up—burn it!"

"I will indeed! I never can thank you enough for securing it for me. Those moving pictures were a clever idea."

The next day formal notice was sent to Mr. DeVere that the suit against him had been withdrawn, and Merley had to pay all advance court charges. The actor would not again be made to pay the five hundred dollars. The suit against the street car company was also taken out of court. And Dan Merley and his confederates disappeared for a time. It seems that Merley went to the woods to hunt as a sort of relief from having to pose all the while in New York as an injured man. He felt at home up in that locality, having been there many times before.

"Well," said Mr. Pertell to Mr. DeVere and the girls one day, when he had called to see them, "I suppose you are ready for more camera work by this time?"

"What now?" asked Ruth. "Can't you give us something different from what we have been having?"

"Indeed I can," was his answer. "How would you like to go to Florida?"

"Florida!" the girls cried together. "Oh, how lovely."

"That's answer enough," said the manager. "We leave in a week!"

"I wonder what will happen down there?" asked Alice.

And my readers may learn by perusing the next volume of this series, to be entitled "The Moving Picture Girls Under the Palms; Or, Lost in the Wilds of Florida."

"It seems too good to be true," spoke Alice that night, as she and Ruth were talking over what dresses they would take.

"Doesn't it! Oh, I am just wild to go down South!"

"So am I. I'd like to know what part we're going to."

"Why?"

"Oh, you know those two girls we met in the train. They were going somewhere near Lake Kissimmee. We might meet them."

"We might," answered Ruth sleepily. "Put out the light, dear, and come to bed. We will have some busy times, getting ready to go to Florida."

And thus we will take leave of the moving picture girls.



* * * * *



Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors corrected.

Page 3, "dissappointed" changed to "disappointed". (he never disappointed)

Page 13, "roles" changed to "roles". (played minor roles)

Page 13, "felt" changed to "left". (left her father's)

Page 22, "went" changed to "want". (want to pay me)

Page 31, "handful" changed to "handful". (handful of snow)

Page 37, "wildy" changed to "wildly". (pawed about wildly)

Page 44, "dollares" changed to "dollars". (hundred dollars means)

Page 45, "seem" changed to "seen". (seen that he)

Page 66, "colonge" changed to "cologne". (spirits of cologne)

Page 101, "Dicken's" changed to "Dickens'". (In Dickens' story)

Page 103, "your" changed to "you". (his coat you)

Page 105, the word "have" was inserted into the text. (could have happened)

Page 108, "accidently" changed to "accidentally". (accidentally hit you)

Page 148, "temperment" changed to "temperament". (a different temperament)

Page 180, "We" changed to "we". (we can't go)

Page 185, "fugutive" changed to "fugitive". (were fugitive slaves)

Page 204, "lense" changed to "lens". (a lens that)

Page 212, the word "spoke" is presumed as the original is smudged. (spoke the lawyer)

THE END