# The Moving Picture Boys and the Flood/Chapter 3

CHAPTER III
MR. PIPER IS APPREHENSIVE
"Well, it didn't take us long; did it, Blake?"
"No, indeed, Joe. But we certainly have hustled some since we got that long-distance telephone message."
"We're used to hustling, though, old man. You wouldn't get very far with moving pictures unless you did get a move on now and then."
The two chums were seated in a railway train, on their way to New York to meet Mr. Ringold, and do what they could to rescue the unfortunate members of the moving picture company. They did not know what was before them, but they had stout hearts, and they had made up their minds to brave any danger in order to save their friends.
"Poor Birdie Lee!" murmured Blake. "I can't help but think of her."
"Same here," agreed Joe. "She certainly was a dandy little chum and comrade. Always will​ing to do anything that was asked, to make a good film."
"Yes, and she never found fault if someone made a break, and we had to film the scene all over again," put in Blake. "Do you remember the time she had to fall overboard, out of the boat on the lake?"
"I should say I did remember it! C. C. Piper was to rescue her, but he was so slow about it—so afraid he'd get drowned, or have wet feet, or something, that the scene was spoiled, and Birdie had to get into dry clothes, and act the whole thing over, taking a second plunge into the water."
"Mr. Ringold was sure mad at C. C. that day," laughed Blake. "But it didn't always happen that way. We've had our fun, too."
"Oh, sure. But we're not likely to this time—scooting around in the rain, on a river that's twice as big as it ought to be. Say, when we get to the junction we may be able to get a New York paper of to-day, and see how things are out in the flooded district now."
"Maybe we can," assented Blake.
The boys settled back in their seats, for the ride of about two hours to New York, for they were on a slow train. On receiving the news over the wire, they had hastily packed, and amid ​the expressed regrets of Mr. and Mrs. Baker at their departure, had driven to the station.
Their train made a stop at nearly every depot, and at several, where there was a wait, Joe and Blake got out and inquired if there were any newspapers of that day. But none had been received.
"Cliff Junction!" called out the brakeman, and the boys prepared to change in order to take an express train for the remainder of the journey.
"Now for a paper!" exclaimed Blake, as he hurried up to the news-stand. Joe followed, and as a man, with his back turned to them, was making a purchase, they waited until he should have stepped aside.
"That's always the way!" this man was complaining in a voice at the sound of which Joe and Blake looked at each other quickly. "Always the way! Whenever I go anywhere the train is sure to be late."
"The express isn't much behind," said the, boy at the news-stand. "Only ten minutes, and she'll make that up before she gets to New York."
"Ha! Yes. The engineer will put on extra steam, to make up lost time, and there'll be a collision, or we'll go off the track, or through a ​bridge, or something like that," went on the man. "I never saw such a road, anyhow! I'll never travel on it again. I've had the worst luck to-day!
"Somebody stepped on my foot, the expressman didn't come for my baggage until I was nearly in a fit, for fear I'd miss the train, and now I get here and find the express late! What a world this is, anyhow! It's fierce."
"Hello, C. C.!" exclaimed Blake, heartily. He did not need to see the man's face to know who he was.
The complaining man wheeled about quickly.
"The moving picture boys!" he cried, as he noted Joe and Blake.
"That's who!" laughed Joe. "Where are you bound for?"
"New York; if I ever get there. But the train is late, and I know there'll be a smash-up!"
Then, having made this gloomy prediction, Mr. C. C. Piper whistled a merry little tune, and did a few dancing steps which he used in some of his comic scenes. C. C.'s gloom was evidently not deep.
"Oh, I guess we'll come out all right," said Joe, cheerfully. "But we heard that you were in New York."
"Who told you that?" demanded Mr. Piper.
​"Mr. Ringold. I was talking to him over the long-distance 'phone a little while ago," explained Blake. "He said you were in New York."
"I was, but I ran up to see a friend, expecting to spend the week-end with him. And I'd no sooner gotten there than Ringold got me on the telephone, and ordered me back. That was after he talked to you, I guess. It seems some of his company are lost in the Mississippi flood, and he wants me to go out there with him. Some of the dramas will have to be done over again, as the films were lost, and he's going to try to find the missing folks."
"We're on the same errand," remarked Joe. "Mr. Ringold cut short our vacation, too, by long distance. We're in the same boat."
"Boat? Yes!" snorted the gloomy comedian. "And I guess we'll have to use a boat out on the Mississippi. We can't wade or swim, and there's sure to be a lot of trouble. I wish I'd never gone into this business! It's awful!"
"Oh, it may not be so bad," spoke Blake, cheerfully.
"It's bound to be," declared C. C. "Look at it! Bad luck from the very start. Express late, and all that. It's fierce!"
There was no use trying to talk him out of his gloom, and the boys realized this. It was ​best to let him work it off in his own way, and be as cheerful as possible toward him.
"Is there any later news of the flood, in the paper?" asked Joe. "We only read of it in yesterday's sheet."
"Yes, it's getting worse instead of better," replied Mr. Piper. "I can't get my regular paper, though," he complained. "Why don't you keep the Planet?" he asked, of the boy behind the counter.
"I did have some, sir, but they're all gone," was the smiling answer.
"Ha! That's just the way! Everything goes wrong with me!" cried C. C. "I've a good notion to go back and not start until tomorrow. Something serious is bound to happen before this day is over. I've a notion to go back."
"Oh, I wouldn't," persuaded Blake. "Mr. Ringold will be expecting you, and he will be disappointed."
"Well, I'll go on; but, mark my words, something will happen before we reach New York," predicted C. C.
The moving picture boys purchased newspapers, not being particular what kind, as long as they contained fresh news of the big flood. They found more recent dispatches than those ​they had read at the farmhouse, and other pictures. As Mr. Piper had said, the raging Mississippi was higher than before, and the almost constant fall of rain, augmenting the streams that poured into the Father of Waters, added to the danger and desolation.
"Anything about our friends?" asked Blake of his chum, as the latter scanned the pages eagerly.
"No, I don't see any mention of them. But it says several lives have been lost, and there is much suffering from lack of food and clothing."
"Too bad! I wish we were out there now, and could help."
The boys, pacing up and down the depot platform, rapidly glanced over the news sheets, and Joe suddenly uttered an exclamation.
"Here's something!" he cried. "There are no names given, but in a dispatch from Hannibal it says that it is rumored a company of moving picture actors, and actresses, were carried away in a house that was swept down by the current."
"That's our crowd, all right," declared Blake. "No mention of Birdie Lee; is there?"
"No, not any names given. Say, I wish that express would come along, and get us to New ​York! I'm in a hurry to find out how much Mr. Ringold knows."
"So am I," added Blake.
"We'll never get to New York without an accident," declared the gloomy C. C. "I'm positive of it!"
However, at that moment the whistle of the approaching express train was heard, and there was a hurried movement among the waiting passengers. The moving picture boys and Mr. Piper kept together, and got seats by themselves.
"Well, we're making time now, all right," Joe said, as they whizzed along. "Making up some of those lost ten minutes."
"Um! Yes! Wait and see what happens," predicted C. C.
But nothing did, at least up to the time when the train pulled into the One Hundred and Twenty-fifth street station of the New York Central. The next stop would be the Grand Central Terminal, in the heart of New York.
"We've got a minute," remarked Joe, to his chum. "Let's see if we can get a still later paper. Maybe there's an extra out."
"I'm with you," agreed Blake, as they left the train. Mr. Piper seemed sad, that his apprehensions of an accident had not been borne out.
As Blake and Joe were looking for a newsboy, ​they became aware of a commotion in the street below them, the tracks here being elevated. There was a clanging of bells, and much shouting.
"Something doing down there," remarked Blake.
"Yes, it's a fire!" cried Joe, as he caught a lurid reflection in the evening sky. "Looks like a big one, too. Shall we take it in?"
"Might as well. We can come down on a later train, and telephone Mr. Ringold. And say, you've got that little moving picture camera with you; haven't you?"
"Yes, I brought it along. Wasn't room to put it in the trunk."
"Then come on. We'll get some views of this fire. We can use them nicely, and it isn't likely that there'll be anyone else on the job. Come on and get the camera."
"We can't! The train's already started!" cried Joe, for the express was slowly moving.
"Yes, we can! I'll get it!" shouted Blake, as he sprang into the car where they had left their baggage. The train was now rapidly gathering headway, the whine and hum of the big motors of the electric engine mingling with the clang of the fire bells, and the shouts of the crowd in the streets below.