The Moving Picture Boys on the Coast
Page 1
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COAST
OrShowing Up the Perils of the Deep
by
VICTOR APPLETON
Author of "The Tom Swift Series," "The Moving Picture Boys,""The Moving Picture Boys in the West," Etc.
Illustrated
Blake & Joe, leaving their automatic camera working,aided in the work of rescue.--Page 193.]
New YorkGrosset & Dunlap Publishers
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BOOKS BY VICTOR APPLETON
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS SERIES12mo. Illustrated. Price, per volume, 40 cents, postpaid
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYSTHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE WESTTHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COASTTHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLETHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN EARTHQUAKE LAND
THE TOM SWIFT SERIES12mo. Illustrated. Price, per volume, 40 cents, postpaid
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLETOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOATTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIPTOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOATTOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUTTOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLETOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACERTOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICETOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERSTOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGETOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLDTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDERTOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITYTOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERATOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHTTOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON
GROSSET & DUNLAPPUBLISHERS--NEW YORK
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Copyright, 1913, by Grosset & Dunlap
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COAST
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I AN UNEXPECTED ATTACK 1 II A DARING RAID 12 III THE PURSUIT 23 IV BACK TO BIG B 29 V A NEW KIND OF DRAMA 40 VI ON THE COAST 46 VII AT THE LIGHTHOUSE 56 VIII BLAKE LEARNS A SECRET 62 IX AT PRACTICE 71 X TO SAN FRANCISCO 79 XI A STRANGE CHARGE 87 XII ON A LONG VOYAGE 93 XIII A MIMIC FIRE 101 XIV ATTACKED BY A SWORDFISH 111 XV SUSPICIOUS ACTIONS 119 XVI JOE SUSPECTS SOMETHING 127 XVII AFTER THE WRECKERS 134XVIII FAILURE 144 XIX ON THE TRAIL 151 XX THE DISCOVERY 158 XXI THE CAPTURE 164 XXII A LIFE GUARD'S ALARM 171XXIII THE DOOMED VESSEL 181 XXIV OUT OF THE WRECK 187 XXV A NEW QUEST 201
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COAST
CHAPTER I
AN UNEXPECTED ATTACK
"Well, Blake, it doesn't seem possible that we have succeeded; does it?"and the lad who asked the question threw one leg over the saddle of hispony, to ride side fashion for a while, as a rest and change.
"No, Joe, it doesn't," answered another youth. "But we sure have gotsome dandy films in those boxes!" and he looked back on some ladenburros that were following the cow ponies across a stretch of Arizonadesert.
"Well, all I've got to say," remarked the cowboy, the third member ofthe trio; "is that taking moving pictures is about as strenuous work asrounding up or branding cattle."
"I guess you don't quite believe that, Hank; do you?" asked BlakeStewart. "You haven't seen us work so very hard; have you?"
"Work hard? I should say I have," answered Hank Selby. "Why, the timethose Indians charged our cave, and Joe and I, and Munson and his crowdwere getting ready to fire point-blank at them, there you stood, withbullets whizzing near you more than once, grinding away at the handle ofyour moving picture camera as hard as you could. Hard work--huh!"
"But we got the films," declared Blake, not caring to go too deeply intoan argument. "And I'm anxious to see how they will develop."
"So am I," declared Joe. "I wonder what will be next on the program?"
"Why, you're going to look for your father; aren't you, Joe--your fatherwhom you haven't seen since you were a little chap--whom you can't evenremember?" and Blake looked sharply at his chum and partner, Joe Duncan.
"That's what I am, Blake, just as soon as I can get to the coast. But Imean, what will we do after that? Go back to New York?"
"I suppose so, and take up our trade of making moving picture films forwhoever wants them. It will be a rather tame life after the excitementwe have had out here."
"That's what. But maybe it will be good for a change."
The two moving picture boys, I might explain briefly, were on their wayto Flagstaff, Arizona, after having gone out into the wilds, with acowboy guide, Hank Selby, to make moving picture films of some MoquiIndians who had broken away from their reservation, to indulge in someof their weird dances and ceremonies.
While making these films, the boys and their companion, who were hiddenin a cave where the Indians could not see them, saw the redmen about totorture, as they thought, four white prisoners. Joe and Blake recognizedthese men as their business rivals, who were also trying to get somemoving picture films of the Indians, to secure a prize of a thousanddollars, offered by a New York geographical and ethnological society.
To fire on the Indians, and thus save the white captives, meant thatJoe, Blake and Hank would disclose their position in the cave, but therewas nothing else to do, and they did it.
The white captives, unexpectedly freed, came rushing toward the shelter,with the savages after them, and it looked as if there would be a fiercefight. In spite of this Blake held his ground, taking picture afterpicture.
And, in the nick of time, a troop of United States cavalry came dashingup to capture the renegade Indians, who surrendered; Blake also gettingpictures of the dash of the troopers.
Unexpectedly in the company was a Sergeant Duncan who proved to be ahalf-uncle of Joe Duncan, and the sergeant was able to tell the ladwhere his long-lost father was last heard from, since Joe had onlylately learned that his parent was living.
And so, after their strenuous time in getting pictures of the Indians,the boys were on their way to Big B ranch, where Hank Selby wasemployed, and whence they had started to find the hidden savages.
But Flagstaff was the real temporary headquarters of the lads, sincethere was located a theatrical company, engaged in doing some movingpicture dramas based on Western life, and Joe and Blake had been hiredto "film" those plays.
They had been given a little time off to make an attempt to get views ofthe Indians at their ceremonies, and they expected to resume, for atime, making films of more peaceful scenes among their theatricalfriends.
"Yes, we sure did have a strenuous time," remarked Blake, as they rodealong at an easy pace. "And how those Indians threw down their guns,and gave in, when the troopers charged against them!"
"That's right," agreed Joe. "And those bugle notes, when they started togallop, telling us that help was on the way, was the sweetest music Iever heard."
"Same here," came from Hank. "But say, if it's all the same to you boys,I think we might as well camp here and have grub. This looks like goodwater and there's enough grazing for the critters to-night. Then we canpush on early in the morning, and in a couple of days more we ought tomake Big B ranch."
"It seems to take us longer coming back than it did going," remarkedBlake, as he slid from his pony, and pulled the reins over the animal'shead as a signal for it not to wander. "I thought we'd sure come insight of the ranch to-day."
"Oh, it's farther than that," said Hank, as he looked about for woodwith which to make a fire. "I guess you were so anxious to get on thetrail of the Indians on your w
ay out that you didn't notice how muchground you covered. And it was quite a few miles, believe me!"
"I do!" said Joe, with half a groan. "I'm sore and stiff from so muchsaddle riding. I'm not used to it."
"Oh, you'll limber up soon," said Hank, cheerfully. "Now, if you boyswill get the water, and break out the grub, I'll get supper. It'll soonbe dark."
The lads busied themselves, and soon a cheerful little blaze was going,while the tired horses and burros, relieved of the burden of saddles andpacks, were rolling luxuriously around at the length of their tetherropes.
"I wonder if all the Moquis and Navajos who skipped off theirreservations have been driven back?" asked Joe, as they were about readyto eat.
"What makes you ask that?" inquired Blake quickly, and with a curiouslook at his chum.
"Oh, no special reason. But you know Captain Marsh, of the troop inwhich my uncle, Sergeant Duncan, was enlisted, said he had rounded upseveral bands of 'em, and I was just thinking that----"
"That maybe there were some more running around loose that we could makepictures of; is that it, Joe?"
"Well, yes. You know that society offered a prize of a thousand dollarsfor the best reel of ceremonial dances, but there were smaller prizesfor ordinary pictures of Indians in various activities. I thought maybewe could get some of those."
"I'm afraid not--not on this trip, at least," spoke Blake. "I don'tbelieve there is ten feet of unexposed film left, and that wouldn't makemuch of a reel. We used up all we brought with us making those cowboypictures, the forest fire and the time the bear chased Hank, besides theIndian views. Nothing more doing in the camera line until we get back toFlagstaff."
"Oh, well, I was just wondering," spoke Joe, and he gazed off across theuneven stretch of country. But there was that in his voice and glancewhich did not bear out his unconcerned words.
However, Blake was too much occupied in getting supper just then to paymuch attention to his chum, for the lad was hungry--as, indeed, hiscompanions also seemed to be, for they attacked the simple provenderwith eagerness when Hank announced that it was ready.
The evening was setting in when they had finished, and, bringing up apail of fresh water, in case they should get thirsty during the hours ofdarkness, and placing the saddles and packs in a compact mass, the threeproceeded to spend the night in the open.
And yet not exactly without shelter, either, for they had with themsmall dog-tents, as they are called, that afford considerable protectionagainst the night winds and dew. And, with a fire glowing at theirfeet, the travelers were far from being uncomfortable.
A pile of wood had been collected near the blaze, and while nothing wassaid about standing watch, it was understood that if any of them rousedin the night he was to pile fuel on the embers, not only to keep up thegenial heat, but to drive off any prowling beasts that might try to raidtheir stock of provisions.
"Well, I'm going to turn in," finally announced Blake. "I'm dead tired."
"And I'm with you," added Joe.
Hank said nothing, but the boys watched him as he walked some littledistance from the camp, to a slight elevation. On this he stood, gazingoff into the distance.
"I wonder what he's looking for?" queried Joe.
"I--I hardly know," replied Blake.
And yet, in his heart, each lad was aware of something that he hesitatedto put into words. Presently Hank came back, and as the firelight shoneon his face his expression betrayed no anxiety--in fact, no emotion ofany kind.
"Did--did you see anything, Hank?" asked Blake.
"No--nothing. Snooze away. I think--I'll have a pipe before I go tobed," and he sat down on a small box and looked into the glowingembers.
Soon afterward, Joe, looking from his small shelter tent, saw Hankfingering his big revolver, spinning the cylinder, and testing themechanism.
"Something's up!" whispered Joe to himself. "I wonder if it can be thathe saw----"
He did not finish the sentence, for just then Hank put away the weaponand soon the aromatic odor of burning tobacco filled the night air.
"Oh, pshaw!" exclaimed the lad. "I'm foolish to worry about nothing; I'mgoing to sleep!" and he turned over, and closed his eyes. But, somehow,sleep would not come at once. Even with his eyes closed he could fancythe figure of the cowboy guide sitting by the fire.
Blake seemed to be less uneasy than did his chum. If he saw Hank by thefire he made no mention of it, and from his tent came no movement thatshowed he was awake.
Presently Joe began to speculate on the new experience he felt wouldcome to him, if he succeeded in locating his father.
"It really doesn't seem possible--that I'm going to have folks at last,"murmured Joe. "And maybe not only a father, but brothers andsisters--Uncle Bill Duncan said he didn't know. I may have more thanBlake, if I keep on," and then, with more pleasurable thoughts thanworrying about an indefinable something, the lad finally lost himself inslumber.
The camp was still. Even Hank had crawled into his little tent, after afinal pipe. He did not get to sleep soon, and had either of the boysbeen awake they would have seen him come out several times beforemidnight, and stalk about, peering off into the darkness.
Then, after looking to the tether ropes of the animals, he would go backto the small shelters, throw some embers on the fire, and drop off intoa doze. For the cowboy was a light sleeper, and the least sound awakenedhim.
"I guess there'll be nothing doing," he whispered to himself after oneof these little observations. "I thought I saw some signs just aboutdusk, but maybe it was some slinking coyote, or a big jack rabbit.Anyhow, if--if anything does happen it won't come during darkness; thatis, unless it's some of them half-breed or Mexican rustlers, and I don'tbelieve they've been around these diggings lately. I'm going to snooze."
Soon his heavy breathing told that he slept, and several hours passedbefore he again awoke. If he had made one other observation, probably hewould have seen that which would have aroused his suspicions, for, aboutan hour after midnight, there was an uneasy movement among the animals.
And in the starlight, which in a measure made the night less black,several shadowy, slinking forms might have been observed creeping towardthe camp and the pile of provisions and supplies, among the latter ofwhich were the boxes containing the valuable films of the movingpictures.
It was Hank, as might have been expected, who awakened. One of theburros, always an excitable, nervous beast, capered about and uttered ashrill whinny as if in fright.
Hank was out of his tent in an instant. Leaping to his feet he blazedaway with his revolver. Its flash lit up the darkness, and was at onceanswered by half a dozen other flashes.
"Come on, boys!" yelled Hank. "They're after us! I wasn't mistaken,after all! I did see some of 'em sneaking around! Lively, now!" and heblazed away again.
"What is it?" cried Blake.
"Indians! They're after our horses!" yelled the cowboy, as the two ladsjoined him.