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Updated: May 3, 2025
"What is it?" called Blake, glad of the interruption. "Mr. Ringold wants you to get ready to take some scenes to-night," said the voice of Macaroni. "Scenes at night?" inquired Joe, opening the door, and forgetting the question he had put to his chum. "Yes," went on their young helper. "Flashlight scenes. He wants you at once."
Dawn found them in an East Side basement drinking-place frequented by the lowest classes. Ringold was slumbering peacefully, half overflowing the wet surface of a table; Anthony had discovered musical talent in the bartender and was seated at a battered piano, laboriously experimenting with the accompaniment to an Irish ballad; Higgins and Locke were talking earnestly.
"I know you did," admitted the chief; "but I thought you was so excited you didn't know what you was sayin'." "So did I," admitted several of the volunteer fire-fighters. "It's too bad!" "Well, you meant all right, anyhow," went on Mr. Ringold, with cheerful philosophy; "and I'll make the department a donation. But next time, please don't interfere.
"I am at last on the track of my father, and I must find him." "Where is he?" asked Mr. Ringold, when the lad had told his story. "Somewhere on the Southern California coast. In a lighthouse just where I can't say. But I am going there, and so you will have to get some one else, Mr. Ringold, to take my place. Blake can stay here, of course, and make moving pictures, but I "
Ringold, how is Palma? Prosperous as ever?" "If you had been at Mrs. Tarrant's last night, you would not need to inquire. Positively we younger men have no showing when he deigns to enter the beaux list. He is striding upward in his profession, and you know there is no limit to his ambition.
Films were threaded into the moving picture cameras, the mechanism was tested, and then the whole company, even to the ladies, set forth. "I hope the wreck gets near enough so we can get some good pictures of it," said Mr. Ringold. "It'll have to come pretty well in shore, or the breeches buoy rope won't reach," said Mr. Hadley. "I guess we can get some good pictures."
In the second volume of the series, entitled "The Moving Picture Boys in the West; Or, Taking Scenes Among the Cowboys and Indians," our heroes had an entirely different series of adventures. Mr. Ringold decided to take his theatrical troupe to Arizona, there to make films for a number of Western dramas. He asked the boys if they would like to join Mr. Hadley in doing this work.
In addition to getting off to the developing studio the films they had taken that day, they had to prepare for a hard day's work to follow, for, now that he had the wreck scene, Mr. Ringold declared that he needed some others to go with it to round out the drama of the sea that he had in mind when coming to the coast.
"'S'right, fellows," Higgins joined in. "We agreed to put him aboard and we must do it. Don't break up the party, Kirk." "I don't want to go home," Ringold muttered. "It's a breach of hospitality to go home," Higgins insisted. "Besides, after my bloody 'ncounter with that limb of the law I need a stimulant. You must look after me." "I shall tuck you in your little bed," Kirk told him.
Oh, quit it!" begged Mr. Ringold. "I want that shack to burn!" "He's crazy don't mind him!" shouted the self-appointed chief. "We'll soon have it out now." "I'll see if I can stop them," said C. C., for the water had about quenched the blaze, and it was useless to try to go on with the play. "They'll listen to me," the comedian declared.
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