# The Moving Picture Boys and the Flood/Chapter 2

CHAPTER II
STIRRING NEWS
Joe could hear his chum Blake murmuring such things as:
"Yes, I'm listening! Is that so? Say, that's fierce!"
"Why, yes, I guess we can go," spoke Blake, after a lengthy talk from the person at the other end of the wire. "Yes, Joe's here with me," he went on. "What! Is she lost, too?"
"Say, for cats' sake give a fellow an idea what it's all about; can't you, Blake?" pleaded Joe, at his chum's elbow.
"Just a minute," answered Blake, in an aside. "I'll give you the whole story in a minute. I want to get it straight first."
Then he continued to listen, and while he is thus at the telephone I will tell my new readers, briefly, something about the moving picture boys.
In the initial volume of this series, entitled "The Moving Picture Boys; Or, Perils of a ​Great City Depicted," I introduced Blake Stewart and Joe Duncan. They were farm lads, and, most unexpectedly, one day, a company of moving picture actors and actresses came to their village to make scenes in a rural drama. The two boys became interested, especially in the mechanical end of the work of making films.
Later they had an opportunity of taking up the business under the direction of Mr. Calvert Hadley, a moving picture operator, who offered to teach Joe and Blake how to properly use the wonderful cameras.
The boys went to New York, and met the members of the Film Theatrical Company, with which Mr. Hadley was associated. That gave Joe and Blake their start in life, and since then they had been in the business of taking moving pictures. They became experts, and their services were in great demand, not only in filming dramas acted by the company, but in making independent views.
They went out West, as told in the second volume, and got some stirring views of cowboys and Indians, and then they went to the Pacific Coast, and later to the jungle, where there were more strenuous times.
Their latest venture had been to Earthquake Land, and on returning from there they felt the ​need of a vacation. They engaged board at the farmhouse of Hiram Baker, in Central Falls, about fifty miles from New York City, and they were taking their rest there when the newspaper story of the flood on the Mississippi, and the long-distance telephone call, rather interrupted their ease and quiet.
I might add that in their trip to the coast Joe located his long-lost father, and later, in an expedition to the jungle, he succeeded in locating his sister, who had gone to the Dark Continent as a missionary's helper.
Mr. Duncan and his daughter Jessie made their home together, and Joe stayed with them when he was not off with Blake making moving pictures—which was quite often.
For a time Joe and Blake had worked with the Film Theatrical Company, which went to various parts of the country to get the proper backgrounds for their films. But of late, as I have said, the two boys had started out for themselves.
Still they kept up their acquaintanceship and friendship with the company. Just a word about the various members, and I will resume this story.
Mr. Jacob Ringold was the proprietor of the Film Theatrical Company, and some of the members were Henry Robertson, who played juvenile ​leads, Harris Levinberg, the "villain," Miss Nellie Shay, the leading lady, and Birdie Lee, a pretty, vivacious girl, who took the lighter feminine parts in the dramas. And there was Christopher Cutler Piper—oh, yes, we must not forget him.
Mr. Piper did not like his name—that is, the two first sections, and his friends, to oblige him, had shortened it to "C. C.," or else they called him just "Mr. Piper." Sometimes, however, he was referred to as "Gloomy."
This name fitted him to perfection. He was a gloomy comedian—that is, he was gloomy off the stage; not on it. He would raise a laugh by his action, or lines, and, coming out of the scene, would be in the most doleful state of mind imaginable.
In this book you will find many references to "filming" a scene, exposed, unexposed and developed films, cameras, and the like.
For a full explanation of how moving pictures are taken, I refer my readers to the previous volumes of this series.
And now to resume the story.
Blake stood there, his ear fairly glued to the receiver, and the expression on his face constantly changing. But, though it did change, a certain worried look, that came over it almost ​from the first moment of the spoken words, did not leave it.
"Say, are you going to talk all day, without giving me a hint of what it is?" spoke Joe, in a tense whisper. "Let me listen in; can't you, old man?"
"Right away—yes," answered Blake, in an aside. "All right," he called into the transmitter. "Yes, I'll tell Joe all about it. He'll come with me, I'm sure."
"I rather guess I will—if I ever find out what it's about," murmured the other. "Have a heart, and tell me."
"Good-bye," called Blake, into the telephone. "I'll see you in New York."
Then he hung up the receiver, and, turning to his chum, asked:
"What do you think has happened?"
"I haven't the least idea, unless New York is wiped off the map by a dynamite explosion, and we're wanted to help put it back."
"No, it isn't exactly that," said Blake. "I was talking just now to Mr. Ringold. He's in a peck of trouble!"
"How's that?"
"Why, he wants us to start for the flooded Mississippi district at once, and get a lot of scenes out there. But that's not the worst. Part ​of his company, that he sent out near Hannibal, Missouri, to take part in several film dramas, have been lost in the flood."
"Lost in the flood?" cried Joe. "His company of players?"
"Yes. He could give me no particulars, but he's going to start and organize a rescue party, and try to save them. He wants us to help with that work, as well as to make moving pictures for him. Some of the valuable films the company had already taken were also lost, when they were carried down the river."
"But how did it happen?" Joe wanted to know.
"He didn't have time to give me many particulars over the wire. He said he'd do that when he met us in New York."
"Some of our friends lost in the flood," murmured Joe. "I wonder if there's a chance of saving them?"
"We've got to try, anyhow," spoke Blake, seriously.
"Was C. C. among them?" Joe wanted to know, referring to the gloomy comedian.
"No, he's in New York, where Mr. Ringold also has a company at work for the movies. C. C. escaped. But Birdie Lee went adrift with the others."
​"Birdie Lee!" cried Joe, for he and Blake were both very fond of the pretty, vivacious girl, whose pictures they had taken many times, as she went through her parts before the camera.
"I only hope we can rescue her," murmured Blake. "It certainly is a bad bit of news."
"And he didn't say how it happened?" inquired Joe.
"All he told me," resumed Blake, "was that the company was performing open-air stuff near the flooded district. How they happened to be carried away Mr. Ringold didn't know. It seems that someone telegraphed him the news, that's how he heard of it."
"And how did he happen to think of us, and how did he know we were here?"
"He says he thought of us at once—as soon as he got the news," went on Blake, "and he had our address. We left it with him when we came here, you know, but told him not to send for us except in case of emergency."
"And this sure is an emergency," cried Joe.
"You're right," agreed his chum. "Mr. Ringold got busy on the telephone, and—well, you know the rest. I told him we'd start for New York as soon as we could pack up. He'll meet us there, and then we'll head straight for the flooded district with our cameras."
​"Busy times ahead," murmured Joe. "Well, I guess it's all for the best, except the carrying away of our friends. I was getting a bit tired of this vacation life, anyhow."
"So was I," admitted Blake, as they left the store and headed for their boarding house.
With quickening steps the boys walked up the path. There was nervous energy in their every move.
"My! But you're in a hurry on a hot day," observed Mrs. Baker, who had taken quite a liking to her two young boarders.
"Got to be!" exclaimed Blake. "We're going to try and catch the afternoon train for New York."
"New York! My sakes alive! You're not going; are you?"
"Got to," explained Joe. "I think we can make it if we hurry. Some friends of ours are lost in that Mississippi flood, and we've got to go and help find and save them if we can. No time to lose!"
"My land sakes! I never heard tell of such a thing!" cried Mrs. Baker. But the boys did not stop to hear her comments. They were on their way to their rooms to pack their grips.