"Nothing missing, not even the firecracker Miss Alice sets off under the chair of the false count," replied the property man.

"Good! I don't want any failure at the last minute. Now, Russ, how is the camera working?"

"Fine, sir."

"Good fresh film?"

"Fresh to-day, Mr. Pertell--just like new-laid eggs."

"All right. You may have a chance to snap some newly laid eggs if my future plans work out all right. Well, I guess we'll begin. Take your places for the first scene."

"Oh, I'm so nervous!" confided Ruth to Alice.

"Silly! You needn't be!" was the response. "You're just perfect in your part. I only wish I was as sure of myself."

"Why, you're great, Alice!" said her sister. "Only you do such funny things--it makes me laugh, and I'm afraid I'll smile in the wrong place--when I'm being made love to, for instance."

"Well, it's a funny part, and I have to act funny," insisted the younger girl. "But I wish it was all over, and on the films. It's been a little harder than I thought it would be."

"Indeed it has. But papa was so good to rehea.r.s.e us. Now we must be a credit to him."

"Oh, of course. Come on, the others are ready."

It was not without a feeling of nervousness that Ruth and Alice prepared to take their places in the actual depiction of the new play. The rehearsals had not been so trying; but now, when the photographs were to be made, there was a strain on all.

For in making moving pictures mistakes are worse than on the real stage. There, when one is speaking, one can correct a false line, or turn it so that the audience does not notice the "break."

But in the movies a false move, a wrong gesture, is at once indelibly registered on the film, to reappear greatly magnified. And though sometimes the incorrect part of the film can be cut out, mistakes are generally costly.

"Are you all ready?" asked Mr. Pertell again, as he stood with watch in hand beside Russ at the camera, while the actors and actresses took their places in the first scene.

"All ready," answered Mr. Harrison, who was one of the princ.i.p.al characters.

"Then--go!" cried the manager, and Russ was about to turn the operating handle.

"Vait! Vait a minute. Holt on!" cried the voice of Mr. Switzer.

"Don't shoot yet alretty!" and he held up a restraining hand.

"Oh, what's the matter now?" demanded Mr. Pertell, with a gesture of annoyance.

"Vun of mine shoes--he iss unloose, und der lacing is dingle-dangling. It might trip me!" explained the good-natured German actor, in all seriousness.

"Well, fix it, and hurry up!" cried the manager, unable to repress a smile.

"Yah! I tie her goot und strong," he said, and soon this was done.

"Now then--all ready?" asked Mr. Pertell once more.

This time there was no delay, and the clicking of the camera was heard as Russ turned the handle. Mr. DeVere and his two daughters were not in this first scene, so it gave the girls a chance to lose some of their nervousness--or "stage fright." As for Mr. DeVere, he was too much of a veteran actor to mind this. Besides, he had played many parts before the camera now.

Mr. Pertell stood with watch in hand, timing the performance. For the play must be gotten on a certain length of film, and if one scene ran over its allotted time it might spoil the next one by curtailing the action.

"Hurry a little with that," ordered the manager sharply, at a certain point. "Don't 'screen' the letter too long, and skip part of that leave-taking. That eats up far too much celluloid."

Accordingly some parts, not essential to the play, were "cut" to shorten the time. Russ went on turning the crank, getting hundreds of the tiny pictures that afterward would be magnified, and thrown on the screen in dozens of moving picture playhouses, for the Comet Company supplied a large "circuit."

"Now then, Mr. DeVere, it's time for you to come on," the manager said. "And then your daughters."

"Oh, I know I'm going to be nervous!" murmured Ruth.

"No you won't," spoke Russ, encouragingly. She stood near him, and flashed him a grateful look. "I'll be watching you," he said, "and if I see anything wrong I'll stop in an instant, so we won't spoil any film."

"That's good of you," she replied. "Come on, Alice."

"All right! Oh, I just know it's going to be splendid!" her sister exclaimed. There was the flush of excitement on her cheeks, and though she would not admit, Alice, too, was nervous. So much, she felt, depended on this first real play--so much for herself and her sister. It was thrilling to feel that they might be able to make a comfortable living through the medium of the movies.

"All ready now, Russ, for this scene," called the manager, indicating the one where Ruth and Alice were to appear. "Watch your register closely."

"Yes, sir."

The play went on. Ruth took her part first, and the little drama was enacted. Her father, who was in the scene with her, smiled encouragement, and Russ nodded gaily as he continued to turn the clicking camera.

"Now, Miss Alice!" called the manager. "Here's where you come in.

Come smiling!"

It was hardly necessary to tell Alice this, for she generally had a smile on her face. Nor was it lacking this time.

She began her part, but in an instant the manager called:

"Wait. Hold on a minute!"

The clicking of the camera ceased instantly.

"Oh, have I done something wrong?" thought Alice, her heart beating violently.

"Cut out what's been done so far," ordered the manager to Russ. "It will have to be done over."

"Yes, sir," answered the operator, as he noted from the automatic register at the side of the camera how many feet of film had been run on the new scene. Then, when it came to be developed, it could be eliminated. The figures also showed how much of the thousand-foot reel was left for succeeding scenes.

Everyone was a little nervous, fearing he or she had made the trouble, but all were rea.s.sured a moment later, when the manager said:

"I think it will be a little more effective if Miss Alice makes her entrance from the other side. It brings her out better. Try it that way once, and then, if it goes, film it, Russ."

The benefit of the change was at once apparent, and after a moment of rehearsal it was decided on. Again the camera began its clicking and everyone breathed freely once more, Alice most of all, for failure would have meant so much to her.

"Very good--very good," spoke the manager encouragingly, as the play developed.

Alice and Ruth had rather difficult parts, and in one scene they held the stage alone, "plotting" to disclose the false count. It was in this scene that Alice had some effective work along comedy lines.