The Moving Picture Girls at Sea | Page 3

heard of. But I didn't want him to
make such a fuss over it."
"La-la-la!" chanted Alice, about nothing in particular.
The girls busied themselves getting tea. The kettle was soon singing on
the gas stove, the crisp odor of toast had replaced the heavier one of
cabbage, and the rarebit was almost ready to serve, when a step was
heard out in the hall of the apartment house where the DeVere family
had their New York home.
"There's daddy!" exclaimed Alice.
"And just in time," added Ruth, as she poured the boiling water on the
tea, adding to the fragrant food perfumes that now filled the apartment.
The key clicked in the lock, the door opened, and a rather imposing
figure of a man entered, laying aside his hat and light overcoat, for the

Spring day was a bit chilly.
"Hello, Daddy!" called Alice, putting up her face to be kissed, as she
came in from the kitchen with a plate of delicately browned toast.
"You're just in time. And it's such a lovely rarebit!"
"That's good, my dear."
"Oh, Father, how hoarse you are!" cried Ruth. "Is your throat bad
again?"
"Well, this harbor dampness isn't just the best medicine for it. But I
shall spray it, and it will be better."
He sank somewhat wearily into a chair as he spoke, and Ruth glided
over to him.
"Daddy," she said, "you look worried. Has anything happened? Is
anything wrong at the moving picture studio?"
"No, nothing wrong, but--"
It was evident that something out of the usual had occurred. Even
light-hearted Alice sensed it.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing so much," her father said in weary tones. "I suppose I
shouldn't make such a fuss over it. But Mr. Pertell has finally decided
to film the great marine drama, and that means we shall have to go out
on the water, more or less. And with my sore throat that isn't just the
best thing in the world for me."
"A marine drama!" cried Alice. "Oh, I shall just love that!"
A look of worry still clouded Mr. DeVere's face.
"Father, there is something else," insisted Ruth. "You haven't told us all
about this sea film."

"No, I--I haven't," he said. "And, to tell the truth, I'd rather we weren't
going to be in that marine drama."

CHAPTER II
JACK JEPSON
Hosmer DeVere's words and manner alike were alarming to his
daughters. Seldom had they seen him so moved, especially over such a
seemingly simple matter as the announcement of a new moving picture
drama. He and the girls, in common with the other members of the
Comet Film Company, had to portray many different scenes in the
course of a season's work, and though some of it was distasteful, it was
seldom objected to by anyone, unless perhaps by Pepper Sneed, the
"grouch," or perhaps by Mr. Wellington Bunn, an actor of the old
school, who could not reconcile himself to the silent drama.
"Why, Daddy, what is the matter?" asked Alice. "I think it will be
perfectly fine to have a little trip out to sea, especially now that
Summer is coming on."
"But not if the damp salty air is going to irritate his throat," declared
Ruth.
"Oh, it isn't so much that," Mr. DeVere said, "but you girls evidently
don't know that the big scene in this drama is a shipwreck, and what
follows. I am to be 'cast' in that, and so are you."
"Well, what of it?" asked Alice. "It won't be a real shipwreck; will it?"
"Real? Of course not!" exclaimed Ruth. "The idea!"
"I certainly hope it won't be real," Mr. DeVere said, "But--Oh, well, I
suppose I may as well admit the truth. You'll probably call me fussy
and all that, and laugh at the superstition of an old actor. But you know
we have our traditions, though I am free to confess that I have lost

many of them since entering on this moving picture work. But I had a
dream about this same shipwreck, and that was before I knew we were
to be in it, for I might mention that Mr. Pertell has included you girls in
the drama, and has prominent parts selected for you."
"Oh, I'm glad!" cried Alice enthusiastically.
"I'm not," her father said, and he did not smile. "As I said I had a dream
about this drama before I knew we were to have parts in it. And in that
dream I saw----"
"Oh, Daddy! Now don't tell a depressing dream before tea!" begged
Alice, slipping her arms about his neck, and imprinting a kiss on a spot,
which, if it were not already bald, was fast becoming so. "Wait until
after supper--the rarebit will spoil if we don't eat