The Moving Picture Boys and the Flood; Or, Perilous Days on the Mississippi

by Victor Appleton

  CHAPTER VI

  THE MISSING FILMS

  Lively and varied were the scenes about the relief train. Wagons wereconstantly being driven up to the station, loaded with supplies that hadbeen contributed by generous merchants, or bought with publicsubscriptions.

  The soldiers wore serious faces, for it was reported, in a few of thelarge cities, that rioting and robbery had followed the trail of theflood.

  "Well, I'd just like to get my hands on some of those human fiendswho'll rob at a time like this!" exclaimed a big trooper, as he bangedhis gun down on the platform. "I'd show him what's what!"

  "That's right!" chimed in his comrades.

  More soldiers kept arriving. They were mostly National Guardsmen, thoughone company of Regulars was on the train.

  Some doctors were being taken along, and a quantity of medical stores,for sickness had broken out, it was reported. A large supply of tentswas being shipped, for many of the sufferers had been driven from homeby high water, had been forced to flee to the hills, where they werecamping in the open. And tents were much needed for shelter, for, thoughit was Summer, there was considerable rain, and this made it veryuncomfortable for the refugees, especially the women and children, tostay out unprotected.

  All these scenes Joe and Blake took with their moving picture camera.Now and then they moved up or down the big depot, to get varied views.Sometimes they would film a pathetic scene, as when a little girl, whohad evidently read about the relief subscriptions, brought her bankfilled with pennies.

  "Here, Mr. Soldier-man," she said, to a bearded Regular. "I've got adollar an' nineteen cents saved up, and I want you to take it and buysome little girl a pair of rubber boots, so she can wade in the water,and not get drowned."

  "All right," cried the soldier, as he wiped away something thatglistened in his eyes, and blew his nose unnecessarily hard, it seemed."All right, little one. I'll take care of your money for you."

  "And don't forget to buy the boots!" cried the tot, shaking her fingerat him to impress it on his mind.

  "I won't," he promised, and as he stood looking at the penny-bank,rather uncertain what to do with it, Blake filmed him, as a conclusionof the little scene.

  "I wonder if I oughtn't to make the kid take back this money?" thesoldier said, speaking to the boys. "Maybe her folks wouldn't like herto give it away."

  "I guess they wouldn't mind," remarked Blake, with a smile. "Anyhow,she's gone now," for she had quickly slipped away in the throng.

  "But what am I to do with the stuff?" asked the bewildered trooper.

  "Turn it over to some of the ladies," suggested Joe, for a committee ofRed Cross women were to go with the relief train.

  "I guess I will," the man said, with an air of relief.

  There was a dog who refused to be separated from his soldier-master, andevery time the animal was put out of the depot it came rushing backagain, determined to board the train. The boys got a picture of this oddlittle scene, and finally the dog had to be given in charge of a porter,to be led away at the end of a rope, howling his protest at theseparation.

  "Good work, boys!" complimented Mr. Ringold, when he saw what they weredoing. "I'll use some of these films as part of one of the flood dramas,if we're lucky enough to be able to get other scenes."

  "Oh, we'll get some!" declared Blake, confidently.

  "That ought to be a fine one," went on the manager, referring to therelief train scene. "Take good care of that film, boys."

  It was placed in a metal light-tight box, to be developed later, as wasthe film of repairing the bridge. Blake and Joe intended leaving them atan agency they knew of, farther West, there to be developed, andprinted.

  "All aboard!" called the conductor of the relief train, and there wasthe last scurrying and hurrying to finish up the work. This train pulledout ahead of the one the boys and their friends were to take, and it hadthe right of way, for help was now urgently needed in the floodeddistrict.

  Progress from then on, for those who were seeking the lost actors andactresses, was rather slow and uncertain. They were now on the edge ofthe flooded district, and, though they saw no scenes of actualsuffering, as yet, they were held up by such happenings as bridgeswashed away, or made unsafe, tracks undermined by the rain, andlandslides covering the rails.

  So they were two days longer on the road than otherwise they would havebeen. Relief trains, too, had the right of way, and even the regularpassenger trains were held back, or switched to other tracks, while thecars laden with soldiers and supplies were rushed forward.

  Mr. Ringold fretted and fumed at the delay, but there was no help forit. Those suffering must be cared for first.

  "We ought to be at Hannibal to-morrow," said the manager, one night, asthe sleeping berths were being made up. "Then we can start in, and dosomething. I only hope we can find them," he added, referring to hislost company.

  Joe and Blake had sections opposite each other, and, after talkingacross the aisle in low tones for a few minutes, they dropped off tosleep.

  It was past midnight when Blake thought he felt someone fumbling at thecurtains of his berth.

  "That you, Joe?" he asked, sleepily.

  "What's that?" inquired his chum, evidently also just awakened.

  "I asked if that was you at my berth just now," repeated Blake. "I'msure I felt someone."

  "So did I. I thought it was you," said Joe. "Were you up?"

  "Not a bit of it! Say, maybe we'd better look around a bit. The filmsare under my berth."

  Blake slipped on a bathrobe over his pajamas, and got out in the aisle.The narrow, curtained passage contained no one. Joe thrust his head outbetween his curtains, to watch Blake as he felt under the berth.

  "Joe, they're gone!" cried the young operator, as he faced about. "Thecases containing the relief train and bridge films are gone!"

  "Are you sure?"

  "Positive. I left them right between my two valises, and they're notthere now."

  "Maybe the porter took them by mistake," suggested Joe.

  "I'll ring and find out," declared Blake, as he pushed the button in hisberth.

  A sleepy colored man shuffled out from the end of the car.

  "'Ju ring, sah?" he yawned.

  "Yes," exclaimed Blake. "Did you take anything from under my berth?"

  "Yais, sah. Ah done tuck yo' all shoes jest now, fo' to shine 'em. Iallers does dat 'long 'bout dish yeah time. I done tuck dat gen'man'sshoes, too," and he nodded at Joe.

  "Did you just take them?" Blake wanted to know.

  "Yais, sah. 'Long 'bout two er free minutes ago. Didn't yo' all want meto?"

  "Oh, that's all right," said Blake, as a puzzled look came over hisface. "Then it was you who woke me up--taking my shoes?"

  "Ah's mighty sorry, sah," spoke the porter, as he saw a vanishing visionof a tip. "Ah didn't go fo' t' do it, sah!"

  "I don't mind about that," said Blake, "but there are some films missingfrom under my berth. Did you see, or take them?"

  "'Deed an' Ah didn't, boss!" was the quick reply. "Ah ain't got no usefo' movin' picture films, 'deed an' Ah ain't!"

  The man was evidently honest.

  "Then they must have been taken earlier in the night," said Blake,slowly.

  "By whom?" asked Joe.

  "There's only one person I suspect--Munson. He must be on our trail, andthat means trouble, Joe," spoke Blake, soberly.