Part 12 (1/2)

She had been in motion pictures long enough to know what it meant to spoil a hundred feet or more of film in a spirited picture, necessitating a retake. She had seen her danger, and had done her best to get out of harm's way.

The cat had leaped into some bushes and was out of sight.

Whitlow, his face showing his fear and his inability to act in this emergency, had instinctively drawn back on the reins. But it was to the intelligent horse itself, rather than to the rider, that Alice owed her immunity from harm. For the horse reared, and came down with feet well to one side of the crouching girl, who had partly risen to her knees.

At the same moment Paul sprang for the steed's bridle and swerved him to one side. Then, seeing that Alice was practically out of danger, Paul's rage at the carelessness of Whitlow rose, and he reached up and fairly dragged that young man out of the saddle.

”You don't know enough to lead a horse to water, let alone ride one in a movie battle scene!” he cried, as he pushed the player to one side. ”Why don't you look where you're going?”

Whitlow was too shaken and startled to reply.

”Go on. Help her up and keep on with the retreat!” cried the director.

”That's one of the best scenes of the picture. Couldn't have been better if we had rehea.r.s.ed it. Never mind the cat, Miss DeVere. Run on. Paul, you land a couple of blows on Whitlow and then follow Alice. Hold back, there--you Union men--until we get this bit of by-play.”

Paul, nothing loath, gave Whitlow two hard blows, and the latter dared not return them for fear of spoiling the picture, but he muttered in rage.

Then Paul, shaking his fist at the Unionists, hurried on after Alice, and the retreat continued. What had threatened to be a disaster, or at least a spoiling of the scene, had turned out well. It is often so in moving pictures.

In the remainder of the scene the girls had little part. They had been driven from their home, and, presumably, were taken in by friends. The rest of the scenes showed the Union soldiers making merry in the Southern town they had captured.

”My! That was a narrow escape you had!” exclaimed Ruth, when she and her sister were at liberty to return to the farmhouse. ”Were you hurt?”

”No; I strained one arm just a little. But it will make a good scene, so Russ said.”

”Too good--too realistic!” declared Paul. ”When I get a chance at that Whitlow----”

”Please don't do anything!” begged Alice. ”It wasn't really his fault.

If I hadn't had the cat----”

”It was his fault for pus.h.i.+ng himself to the front the way he did,” said the young actor. ”Only the best riders were picked to lead the charge.

He might have known he couldn't control his horse in an emergency.

That's where he was at fault.”

”He is a poor rider,” commented Estelle. ”But you showed rare good sense, Alice, in acting as you did. A horse will not step on a person if he can possibly avoid it. Mr. Whitlow's horse was better than he was.”

”Just the same, I got in two good punches!” chuckled Paul, ”and he didn't dare hit back.”

”He may make trouble for you later,” Alice said.

”Oh, I'm not worrying about that. I'm satisfied.”

There was a spirited battle scene later in the day between the Union and Confederate forces; the latter endeavoring to retake the village.

A Confederate battery in a distant town was sent for, and the Union position was sh.e.l.led. But as by this time the Union cannon had come up and were entrenched in the town, an artillery duel ensued.

Views were shown of the Union guns being manned by the men, who wore b.l.o.o.d.y cloths around their foreheads and who worked hard serving the cannon. Real powder was used, but no b.a.l.l.s, of course, and now and then a man would fall dead at his gun.

Similar views with another camera were taken of the Confederate guns and the scenes alternated on the screen afterward, creating a big sensation.