The Moving Picture Boys on the Coast by Victor Appleton (romantic novels to read .TXT) 📖

"I've got a surprise for you, Joe," went on the proprietor.

"What sort?" asked the lad, eagerly; "is my father----?"

"No, not that; but Sam Reed is back here again, and he can tell you what you want to know. He came the day after you left."

"But I did better than that!" exclaimed Joe. "I met my uncle, and I'm soon going to find my father, I hope," and he related his meeting with the trooper.

"Good!" cried Mr. Alden. "Here comes Sam now. I told him you might be along soon," and he turned to introduce a rather shiftless-looking cowboy who sauntered up.

"Pleased to meet you," said Sam Reed. "I never cal'lated when I writ that there letter that I'd ever see you in flesh and blood. I've got your pictures, though," and he showed those that had appeared in a magazine, giving an account of the work of Joe and Blake.

As might have been expected, Sam knew nothing of Joe's father. The best the cowboy had hoped to do was to put the boy on the track of Mr. William Duncan, and, considering that Joe's uncle, as I shall call him--though he was really only a half-uncle--had enlisted in the army, Mr. Reed would probably have had hard work to carry out his plans.

"Well, I'm glad you met your relative, anyhow," said Sam to Joe; "and I wish you luck in looking for your father. So he's somewhere on the southern California coast?"

"Yes, in one of the lighthouses," explained Joe. "My uncle didn't know exactly where, but I can easily find out from the government office when I get on the coast."

The boys were made welcome again at Big B ranch, and talked over once more the exciting time that had happened to them there when the Indians stampeded the cattle.

"Here are the films you left with me," said Mr. Alden, giving the boys those they had made of the cattle stampede and of the cowboys doing their stunts. "And so you got other good ones?"

"Yes, fine ones," replied Blake. "And we must soon be getting back to Flagstaff. We have stayed away longer than we meant to, and Mr. Hadley and Mr. Ringold may need our services."

But the boys at the ranch would not hear of their starting for a few days, and so Joe and Blake stayed on, being royally entertained. They witnessed a round-up and the branding of cattle, but could get no pictures, as their films were all used up. However, the subjects had often been filmed before, so there was no great regret.

Then came a time when they had to say farewell, and they turned their horses' heads toward Flagstaff. The cowboys gave them a parting salute of cheers and blank cartridges, riding madly around meanwhile.

"It reminds me of the Indian attack," said Blake.

"Yes," assented Joe. "I wonder if we'll go through another scare like that?"

"I hope not," spoke his chum; but, though they did not know it, they were destined to face many more perils in the pursuit of their chosen calling.

The ride to Flagstaff from Big B ranch was without incident. It was through a fairly well settled part of the country, as settlements go in Arizona, and they made it in good time. Joe often talked about the strange fate that had put him on the track of his father.

"I wonder what kind of a man he'll be?" he often said to his chum.

"The best ever!" Blake would answer; "that is, if he's anything like you--and I think he must be."

"That's very nice of you, and I hope he does turn out to be what I wish him to be. I can't even picture him in my mind, though."

"Well, I should think he'd be something like your uncle--even if they were only half-brothers."

"If he is, I suppose it will be all right, though Uncle Bill is a little too wild to suit me. I'd want my father to be more settled in life."

"Well, it won't be a great while before you know," consoled Blake.

The boys received a royal welcome from Mr. Hadley and the members of the theatrical troupe.

"Oh, but it's good to see you back!" exclaimed Birdie Lee to Blake, as she shook hands with him, and if he held her fingers a little longer than was necessary I'm sure it's none of our affair.

"So you didn't get scalped, after all?" remarked C. C., gloomily, as he surveyed the boys. "Well, you will next time, or else they will hold you as captives."

"Oh, stop it, Gloomy!" called Miss Shay. "What do you want to spoil their welcome for, just as we have a little spread arranged for them?" for she had gotten one up on the spur of the moment, on sighting the boys.

"A spread, eh? Humph, I know I'll get indigestion if I eat any of it. Oh, life isn't worth living, anyhow!" and he sighed heavily and proceeded to practice making new comical faces at himself in a looking-glass.

"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. "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----"

"I'm going with you," said his chum, simply.

There was a moment's silence, and then the theatrical manager exclaimed:

"Well, say, this just fits in all right. There's no need for any of us to be separated, for I intend taking my whole company to the coast to get a new series of sea dramas. The Southern California coast will suit me as well as any.

"Joe, you can't shake me that way. We'll all go together, and you'll have plenty of chance to locate your father!"

The announcement of Mr. Ringold was followed by a silence, during which Joe and Blake looked at each other. It seemed like too much good fortune to learn that they would still have the company of their friends in this new quest.

"Do you really mean that?" asked Joe. "You're not saying it just to help us out; are you, Mr. Ringold?"

"No. What makes you think that?"

"Because it seems too good to be true. I wouldn't like anything better than to go with your company and make pictures."

"The same here," added Blake.

"And if, at the same time, I can locate my father," went on Joe, "so much the better, though I don't imagine I will have any trouble finding him, once I can communicate with the government lighthouse board, and learn where he is stationed. They have a list of all employees, I imagine."

"Yes, I think so," spoke Mr. Hadley. "As you say, it will be easy to locate him. And, boys, I'm very glad you're going to be with us again. I wouldn't like to break in two new lads, and we will certainly need three photographers to take all the scenes in the sea dramas that are planned."

"Will we have to go very far to sea?" asked Macaroni, who was among those who had greeted the moving picture boys. The lads' thin assistant had been kept busy assisting Mr. Hadley while they were after the Indians. "Because if it's very far out on the ocean wave I don't believe I want to go; I'm very easily made seasick."

"Oh, we can arrange to keep you near shore," said the theatrical man, with a laugh.

"He may be drowned, even near shore," put in C. C., with his most gloomy voice; though he was, at the same time, practicing some new facial contortions that were sending the women members of the troupe into spasms of laughter.

"Oh, there you go, Gloomy!" exclaimed Mr. Hadley. "First we know you'll be saying we'll all be smashed in a train wreck going to the coast; or, if not, that we'll be carried off by a tidal wave as soon as we get there."

"It might happen," spoke the gloomy comedian, as though both accidents were possible at the same time.

"And it may rain--but not to-day," put in Miss Shay, with a look at the hot, cloudless sky.

"Then it's all settled," went on Mr. Ringold. "It is understood, Joe, that you can have considerable time, if you need it, to locate your father. The dramas I intend to film will extend over a considerable time, and they can be made whenever it is most convenient. After all, I think it is a good thing that we are going to the Southern California coast. The climate there will be just what we want, and the sunlight will be almost constant."

"I'm sure I'm much obliged to you," said Joe. "This trip after the Indian films cost us more than we counted on, and we'll be glad of a chance to make more money. We're down pretty low; aren't we, Blake?"

"I'm afraid so. But then, we may get that prize money, and that will help a lot."

"That's so," put in Mr. Hadley. "You had better have those films developed, and send them to the geographical society. I wouldn't ship them undeveloped, for they might be light-struck. You were lucky the Indians didn't spoil them."

The boys decided to do this, and during the next few days the reels of moving pictures were developed, and some positives printed from them. While the lads had been after the Indians Mr. Ringold had sent for a complete, though small, moving picture outfit, and with this some of the pictures were thrown on a screen.

"They're the finest I've ever seen!" declared Mr. Hadley, after inspecting them critically. "That charge of the soldiers can't be beaten, and as for the Indian dances, they are as plain as if we were right on the ground. You'll get the prize, I'm sure; especially since you're the only ones who got any views, as I understand it."

Mr. Hadley proved a good prophet, for in due time, after the films reached New York, came a letter from the geographical society, enclosing a substantial check for the two boys.

The films were excellent, it was stated, and just what were needed. One other concern, aside from Mr. Munson's, and the one the latter mentioned, which had gone to Indian land, had succeeded in getting a few views of the Indians in another part of the State, but they were nowhere near as good as those Blake and Joe had secured after such trouble and risk. The attempt to get phonographic records had been a failure, the officers of the society wrote, though another attempt would be made if ever the Indians again broke from their reservations.

"And if they do," spoke Blake, "I'm not going to chase after them."

"Me, either," decided Joe. "I've had enough.