The Moving Picture Girls in War Plays | Page 6

of them," went on Russ. "There will be some lively scenes, and I'll be on the jump most of the time."
"Are you going to film them all?" asked Paul.
"Oh, no. I'm to have several assistants, but I'll be in general charge of the camera squad. So, girls, look your prettiest."
"They always do that," said Paul.
"Thank you!" came in a feminine duet.
A little later the place where the retake was to be made was reached. Mr. Bunn was on hand, wearing his air of "Hamletian gloom," as Alice whispered, and the work of retaking the scenes was soon under way.
This time all went well. Alice drove her "flivver" at Mr. Bunn, who was properly knocked down and looked after by Ruth. No small boys, with an exaggerated sense of humor, got in the way, and the girls were shortly back in their apartment. They had moved to a more pretentious home since their success in moving pictures, and the Dalwoods had taken an apartment in the same building.
"And now to get on with my packing!" sighed Alice. "All I am sure of is that I have my 'brogans' in."
"I'll help you," offered Ruth.
Two days later the Comet Film Company, augmented for the occasion, was at the depot in Hoboken, ready to take the Lackawanna train out to Oak Farm, New Jersey, where it nestled in the hills of Sussex County.
"I don't see how they are going to take battle scenes with just this company," observed Alice, as she surveyed her fellow workers. "And where are the guns and horses?"
"They'll come up later," Russ informed her. "There are to be two big companies and a couple of batteries, but they won't be on hand until they are really needed. It costs too much to keep them when they are not working."
"Are you all here?" asked Mr. Pertell hurrying along the seats with a handful of tickets--"counting noses," so to speak.
"All here, I think," answered Russ.
"Where is Carl Switzer?" asked the manager.
"He was here a minute ago," Alice said.
"Well, he isn't here now," remarked Mr. Bunn.
"And almost time for the train to start!" exploded the director. "We need him in some of the first scenes to-morrow. Get him, somebody!"
"Hey, Mister! Does yer mean dat funny, moon-faced man what talks like a pretzel?" asked a newsboy in the station.
"Yes, that's Mr. Switzer," was the answer. "Where is he?"
"I jest seen him go out dat way," and the boy pointed toward the doors leading to the street in front of the ferry. This street led over to the interned German steamships at the Hoboken piers.
CHAPTER III
HARD AT WORK
"Great Scott!" ejaculated Mr. Pertell. "I might have known that if Switzer came anywhere near his German friends he'd be off having a confab with them. Go after him, somebody! It's only five minutes to train time, and it will take those Germans that long to say how-de-do to one another, without getting down to business."
"I'll get him," offered Paul, hurrying off toward the swinging doors.
"I'll go wit' youse," said the newsboy. "I likes t' listen t' him talk. Does he do a Dutch act?"
"Sometimes," laughed Paul.
"Youse is actors, ain't youse?" the boy asked.
"Movies," answered Paul, hurrying along toward the entrance to the shipyards.
"I wuz in 'em onct," went on the lad. "Dey wuz a scene where us guys wuz sellin' papes, an' anudder guy comes along, and t'rows a handful of money in de street--he had so much he didn't know what t' do wit' it--dat wuz in de picture," he explained. "I wuz in de scene."
"Was it real money?" asked Paul.
"Naw--nottin' but tin," and the tone expressed the disappointment that had been experienced. "But we each got a quarter out of it fer bein' in de picture, so we didn't make out so worse. Dere's your friend now," and the newsboy pointed to the comedian standing at the entrance to one of the piers, talking to the watchman. Both had raised their voices high, and were using their hands freely.
"Hey, Mr. Switzer, come along!" cried Paul. "It's time for the train."
"Ach! Der train! I t'ought der vos plenty of time. I vant to see a friend of mine who is living on vun of dese wessels. Haven't I got der time?"
"No, not a minute to spare. You can see him when you come back."
"Ach! Maybe I neffer comes back. If I get in der war plays I may be shotted."
"Oh, come on!" laughed Paul, while the newsboy went into amused contortions at the exaggerated language and gestures of Mr. Switzer.
"See you later, Hans!" called the comedian to the watchman at the pier.
"Ach, Himmel! Vot I care!" the latter cried. "I don't care even if you comes back neffer! You can't get on dose ship!" and he waved his hand at the big vessels, interned to prevent