aiting.

Onward came the runner, with the whole roaring pack in his wake, dodging
in and out among the vehicles, "flooring" people who got in his way,
scudding, dodging, leaping, like a fox hard pressed by the hounds,
until, all of a moment, he spied a break in the traffic, leapt through
it, and--then there was mischief. For Collins sprang at him like a cat,
gripped two big, strong-as-iron hands on his shoulders, and had him
tight and fast.

"Got you, you ass!" snapped he, with a short, crisp, self-satisfied
laugh. "None of your blessed squirming now. Keep still. You'll get out
of your coffin, you bounder, as soon as out of my grip. Got you, got
you! Do you understand?"

The response to this fairly took the wind out of him.

"Of course I do," said the captive gaily; "it's part of the programme
that you should get me. Only, for Heaven's sake, don't spoil the film by
remaining inactive, you goat! Struggle with me, handle me roughly, throw
me about. Make it look real; make it look as though I actually did get
away from you, not as though you let me. You chaps behind there, don't
get in the way of the camera--it's in one of those cabs. Now, then,
Bobby, don't be wooden! Struggle, struggle, you goat, and save the
film!"

"Save the what?" gasped Collins. "Here! Good Lord! Do you mean to
say----?"

"Struggle--struggle--struggle!" cut in the man impatiently. "Can't you
grasp the situation? It's a put-up thing: the taking of a kinematograph
film, a living picture, for the Alhambra to-night! Heavens above,
Marguerite, didn't you tell him?"

"Non, non! There was not ze time. You come so quick, I could not. And
he--ah, le bon Dieu!--he gif me no chance. Officair, I beg, I entreat of
you, make it real! Struggle, fight, keep on ze constant move.
Zere!"--something tinkled on the pavement with the unmistakable sound of
gold--"zere, monsieur, zere is de half-sovereign to pay you for ze
trouble, only, for ze lof of goodness, do not pick it up while the
instrument, ze camera, he is going. It is ze kinematograph, and you
would spoil everything!"

The chop-fallen cry that Collins gave was lost in a roar of laughter
from the pursuing crowd.

"Struggle, struggle! Don't you hear, you idiot?" broke in the red-headed
man irritably. "You are being devilishly well paid for it, so for
goodness' sake make it look real. That's it! Bully boy! Now, once more
to the right, then loosen your grip so that I can push you away and
make a feint o