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Updated: May 3, 2025
Now, C. C., I guess you'll have to be the man this time, as I need the others for shore parts. Get the cameras ready." "I I'm to be shipwrecked; am I?" inquired Mr. Piper. "Do I have to fall overboard?" "Not unless you want to," said Mr. Ringold, consulting the manuscript of the play. "Then I'm not going to, for I'll catch my death of cold if I do." "Hum!
I scarcely supposed that the ship would recover herself, but suddenly she came up with a jerk, the bowsprit carried away, and the next moment it came right across our forecastle. "Rouse up, lads, and secure the foremast," shouted the captain. Led by the mates, with Brown, Ringold, Soper, Jim, and me, the crew rushed forward to secure the fore-topmast stay. We then got the bowsprit inboard.
But Joe's chum found he had little to fear on this score, for, on getting back to the quarters of the theatrical troupe, the boys were told that the next day they would all take up their residence in a small seacoast settlement, out on the main ocean beach, away from the land-locked bay and where bigger waves could be pictured. "And there we'll enact the first of the sea dramas," said Mr. Ringold.
One of the boat-steerers, Sam Ringold, who stood six feet four in his shoes, and was proportionably broad, was chosen to act the part of Neptune, and the cooper's mate, who was as wide as he was high, that of his wife. The armourer took the part of the barber, and the carpenter's mate, who was lank and tall, the doctor.
But nothing of the kind occurred, and finally the boys and their friends reached the coast, going to the boarding place they had engaged. "And there's the old Pacific!" exclaimed Joe, as he and Blake went down to the shore of the bay on which San Diego stands. "It isn't very rough, however, and Mr. Ringold said he wanted tumbling waves as a background."
"Do look on the bright side for once." "There isn't any," asserted the comedian, as he resumed his practice of making strange faces. Mr. Ringold succeeded in purchasing, for a moderate sum, one of the older cottages, and it was put in shape for its share in the moving picture story, some changes being necessary. The fisherman and his family moved out, glad of the chance to better themselves.
"Well, I'm glad you boys are back," said Mr. Ringold a little later at the impromptu feast, at which C. C. ate as much as anyone and with seemingly as good an appetite. "Yes," went on the theatrical manager, "I shall need you and Mr. Hadley right along, now. I am going to produce a new kind of drama." "I er I'm afraid I can't be with you," said Joe, hesitatingly.
"We won't say anything about planning to fire the shack," declared Mr. Ringold to the boys and the members of his company. "If we do it will attract a crowd, and that's just what we don't want. The fewer the better. Now we'll go over to the shack, and have a rehearsal." "A dress one?" asked Mr. Piper, meaning that everything would be done just as if the pictures were being taken.
Hadley, producer of the Consolidated Film Company, approached Jacob Ringold, a theatrical manager who was in charge of the company taking the parts in "The Dividing Line," which was the name of the Civil War play. "Look here, Jake!" exclaimed Mr. Hadley, "is this supposed to be a desperate, bloody battle, or a game of tennis?" "Why, a battle scene, of course, Mr. Hadley!"
But there were now so many fishermen rushing about here and there that they paid no attention to the excited theatrical man, who issued orders right and left. "What shall we do?" demanded C. C., who had gotten off to one side with the girl he was supposed to have "rescued" from the burning cabin. "I don't know!" cried Mr. Ringold. "The whole play is spoiled by those fellows butting in.
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