thing. I guess those pictures will be all
right--if the salt spray doesn't spoil the celluloid," he added, as he
moved off.

"You're hopeless," declared Miss Lee. "I'll never speak to you again."

The nonsensical talk served to raise the spirits of those who had been
rather plunged in gloom ever since the wreck. Mr. Duncan was given a
room to himself where he could be quiet and recover from the shock of
having been so near death.

The moving picture boys found plenty to do. In addition to getting off
to the developing studio the films they had taken that day, they had to
prepare for a hard day's work to follow, for, now that he had the wreck
scene, Mr. Ringold declared that he needed some others to go with it to
round out the drama of the sea that he had in mind when coming to the
coast.

It may seem that it would not pay to go to such big expense to make a
single films play, or even one or two, but I assure my readers that it
is not uncommon for a concern to spend ten thousand dollars in making a
single play, and some elaborate productions, such as Shakespearian
plays, and historical dramas, will cost over fifty thousand dollars to
get ready to be filmed.

Months are spent in preparation, rehearsals go on day after day, and
finally the play itself is given, often not lasting more than an hour or
half hour on the screen, yet representing many weary weeks of work, and
the expenditure of large sums of money. Such is the moving picture
business to-day.

The boys were kept busy nearly all the rest of that week, and then came
a period of calm. Joe sought out his father, who had steadily gained in
strength after his sensational rescue, and began to question him as to
his experiences, for Mr. Duncan had only given a mere outline of his
experiences up to this time.

"You must have had some strenuous adventures," said Blake, who went with
his chum.

"I certainly did. But, according to Joe, here, they weren't much more
than what you boys went through with in New York, and getting those
Indian films."

"That's right; we did have a time," admitted Blake.

"Well, I'm glad I've got my boy, anyhow," went on the former lighthouse
worker, with a fond glance at Joe. "Nothing is worse than to have folks,
and not know where to find 'em. I hungered and longed for Joe for days
and nights, and now I have him. And I'm not going to lose him again,
either, if I can help it," and he clasped his son's hand warmly in his
palm, while t