The Moving Picture Girls Snowbound | Page 4

film company, as he would not have to use his voice in such
employment.
How Mr. DeVere took the engagement, and how Ruth and Alice
followed him, as well as their part in helping Russ to save a valuable
camera patent--all this you will find set down in the first book.
In the second volume, entitled "The Moving Picture Girls at Oak Farm;
Or, Queer Happenings While Taking Rural Plays," the scene was
shifted to the country. There you may read of many strange occurrences,
as well as funny ones--how Alice fell into the water--but there! I must
save my space in this book for the happenings of it. I might add that,
incidentally, the girls helped to solve a strange mystery concerning Oak
Farm, and solved it in a way that made glad the hearts of Mr. and Mrs.
Felix Apgar, the parents of Sandy, and of the heart of Sandy himself.
Mr. Frank Pertell was the manager of the Comet Film Company, with
whom Mr. DeVere and his daughters had an engagement, and the entire
company, including the DeVeres, spent a whole summer at Oak Farm,
in New Jersey, making rural plays.
The company had just returned to New York City, to finish some
dramas there, and Mr. Pertell was working on new plans, which were
not, as yet, fully developed.
The Comet Film Company included a number of people, and you will
meet some of them from time to time as this story advances. You have
already heard of a few members. In addition there was Wellington

Bunn, a former Shakespearean actor, who could never seem to get
away from an ambition to do Hamlet. Pepper Sneed was the "grouch"
of the company, always finding fault, or worrying lest something
happen. Paul Ardite was the "leading juvenile," the father of the
moving picture girls being the leading man. The girls themselves,
though comparatively new to the business, had made wonderful strides,
for they had the advantage of private "coaching" at home from Mr.
DeVere.
Miss Pearl Pennington and Miss Laura Dixon were former vaudeville
actresses, who had gone into the "movies," and between them and the
DeVeres there was not the best of feeling; caused by the jealousy of the
former.
Carl Switzer, a German with a marked accent, generally did "comics."
Then there was Mrs. Maguire, who did "old woman" parts. She had two
grandchildren, Tommy and Nellie, who frequently played minor rôles.
"Do you feel any better, Daddy?" asked Ruth, as she took from her
father's hand the atomizer he had been using on his throat.
"Yes, the pain is much less. Dr. Rathby's medicine is a wonderful
help."
"Do you feel like--talking?" inquired Alice gently, for she saw that the
worried look had not left her father's face.
"Yes," he answered, with a smile, "but I do not want to burden you
girls with all of my troubles."
"Why shouldn't you?" asked Ruth, quickly. "Who would you share
your troubles with, if not with us? We must help each other!"
"Yes, I suppose so," returned Mr. DeVere, in a low voice. "And yet,
after all, I suppose this is not such a terrible trouble. It will not kill any
of us. But it will make a hard pull for me if I cannot prove my
contention."

"What is that?" asked Alice. "Is there some trouble with the film
company? You haven't lost your engagement; have you, Daddy?"
"Oh, no, it isn't that," he answered. "I'll tell you. Just a little more of
that spray, please, Alice. I will then be better able to talk."
In a few moments he resumed:
"Did you ever hear me speak of a Dan Merley?"
"You mean that man who came to see you when we lived in the other
apartment--the nicer one?" asked Ruth, for the Fenmore was not one of
the high-class residences of New York. The DeVeres had not been able
to afford a better home in the time of their poverty. And when better
days came they had still remained, as they liked their neighbors, the
Dalwoods. Then, too, they had been away all summer at Oak Farm.
"Yes, that was the man," replied Mr. DeVere. "Well, in my hard luck
days I borrowed five hundred dollars from him to meet some pressing
needs. I gave him my note for it. By hard work, later, I was able to
scrape the five hundred dollars together, and I paid him back.
"Unfortunately Dan Merley was a bit under the influence of drink when
I gave him the cash, and he could not find my promissory note to return
to me.
"He promised to send it around to me the next day, and, very foolishly,
as I see it now, I let him keep the money, not even getting