The moving picture players looked curiously at the manager, and then at Mr. Sneed.  They were used to this action on his part, and also on the part of Mr. Bunn ­that of resigning when anything did not suit them.  But matters with either of them seldom went farther than the mere threat.

“I know it will not be as pleasant, as regards weather conditions, at Elk Lodge, Deerfield, as it was at Oak Farm,” said Mr. Pertell.  “But the lodge is a big building, very quaint and picturesque, I have been told, and it has all the comforts, and many of the conveniences, of life.  There are big, open fireplaces, and plenty of logs to burn.  So you will not freeze.”

“Open fires are always cold,” complained Mr. Sneed.  “You roast on one side, and freeze on the other.”

“Oh, I think it won’t be quite as bad as that,” laughed the manager.  “But that is not all I have to say.  In consideration of the fact that there will be some inconveniences, in spite of all I can do, I am willing to make an increase of ten per cent. in the salaries of all of you, including Tommy and Nellie,” and he smiled at the two children.

“Oh, goodie!  I’m going!” cried the small lad.

“So’m I,” voiced his sister.

There was a moment of silence, while all the members of the company looked at Mr. Sneed, who had raised the first contention.  He seemed to think that it was necessary for him to say something.

“Ah ­ahem!” he began.

“Yes?” spoke Mr. Pertell, questioningly.

“In view of all the facts, and er ­that I would have to give two weeks’ notice, and under all the circumstances, I think ­er ­I will withdraw my resignation, if you will allow me,” the grouchy actor went on, in a lofty manner.

“Ah!” laughed Mr. Pertell.  “Then we will consider it settled, and you may all begin to pack up for Elk Lodge as soon as you please.”

“When are we to leave?” asked Mr. DeVere.

“In a few days now.  I have one more play I want to stage in New York, and then we will leave for the country where we can study snow and ice effects to better advantage than here.  We want to get out into the open.  Russ, I must have a talk with you about films.  I think, in view of the fact that the lights out in the open, reflected by the snow, will be very intense and high, a little change in the film and the stop of the camera will be necessary.”

“I think so myself,” agreed the young moving picture operator.  “In fact, I have been working on a little device that I can attach to our cameras to cut down the amount of light automatically.  It consists of a selenium plate with a battery attachment ­”

“Oh, spare us the dreadful details!” interrupted Miss Pennington, who was of a rather frivolous nature.

“Well, there is no longer need of detaining you,” spoke Mr. Pertell.  “Work for the day is over.  We will meet again to-morrow and film ’A Mother’s Sorrow,’ and that will be the last New York play for some time.  I presume it will take a week to get ready to go to Deerfield, as there are many details to look after.”

“Oh, I just can’t wait until it’s time to go to the backwoods!” cried Alice, as she and Ruth were on their way home that evening.  “Aren’t you crazy about it, sister mine?”

“Well, not exactly crazy, Alice.  You do use such ­er ­such strong expressions!”

“Well, I have strong feelings, I suppose.”

“I know, but you must be more ­more conservative.”

“I know you were going to say ‘lady-like,’ but you didn’t dare,” laughed Alice.

“Well, consider it said, my dear,” went on Ruth, in all seriousness, for she felt that she must, in a measure, play the part of a mother to her younger sister.

“I don’t want to consider anything!” laughed Alice, “except the glorious fun we are going to have.  Oh, Ruth, even the prospect of that dreadful Dan Merley making daddy pay the debt over again can’t dampen my spirits now.  I’m so happy!”

She threw her arms about Ruth and attempted a few turns of the one-step glide.

“Oh, stop!  I’m slipping!” cried Ruth, for the sidewalk was icy.  “Alice, let me go!”

“Not until you take a few more steps!  Now dip!”

“But, Alice!  I’m going to fall!  I know I am!  There!  I told you ­”

But Ruth did not get a chance to use the favorite expression of Mr. Sneed, if such was her intention.  For she really was about to fall when a young man, who was passing, caught her, and saved her from a tumble.

“Oh!” she gasped, in confusion, as she recovered her balance.

“I beg your pardon,” laughed the young fellow, with sparkling eyes.

“I should beg yours!” faltered Ruth, with a blush.

“It was all my fault ­I wanted her to dance!” cried Alice, willing to accept her share of the blame.

“Yes, this weather makes one feel like dancing,” the young fellow agreed, and then with a bow he passed on.

“Alice how could you?” cried Ruth.

“How could I what?”

“Make me do that.”

“I didn’t mean to.  Really, he was nice; wasn’t he?  And say, did you notice his eyes?”

“Oh, Alice, you are hopeless!” and Ruth had to laugh.

The two moving picture girls reached home without further mishap, if mishap that could be called, though all the way Alice insisted on waltzing about happily, and trying in vain to get Ruth to join in, and try the new steps.  Passersby more than once turned to look at the two pretty girls, who made a most attractive picture.

The drama next day was successfully filmed and then followed a sort of week’s vacation, while the picture players prepared for the trip to the woods.

They were to go by train to Hampton Junction, the nearest station to Deerfield.  This last was only a small settlement once the center of an important lumber industry, but now turned into a hunting preserve, owned by a number of rich men.  As the Lodge was not in use this season, Mr. Pertell had engaged it for his company.

In due time the baggage was all packed, the various “properties” had been shipped by Pop Snooks and everything was ready for the trip.  The journey from the railroad station at Hampton Junction to Elk Lodge, in Deerfield, was to be made in big four-horse sleds, several of them having been engaged, for it was reported that the snow was deep in the woods.  Winter had set in with all its severity there.

Finally all the members of the company were gathered at the Grand Central Terminal, New York.  The players attracted considerable attention, for there was that air of the theater about them which always seems so fascinating to the outsider, who knows so little of the really hard work that goes on behind the footlights.  Most of the glitter is in front, in spite of appearances.

“Why, it’s like setting off for Oak Farm!” remarked Alice, as she stood beside her sister, Paul and Russ.

“Only there isn’t any mystery in prospect,” spoke Paul.  “I wonder how the Apgars are getting on, now that their farm is safe?”

“They’re probably sitting about a warm fire, talking about it,” Russ said.

“There may be just as much of a mystery in the backwoods as there was at Oak Farm, if we can only come across it,” suggested Alice.  “I wish we could discover something queer.”

“Oh, Alice!” protested Ruth.

Mr. Sneed was observed to be walking about, peering at the various sign boards on which the destination of trains was given.

“What are you looking for?” asked Russ.

“I want to see that we don’t start out on track thirteen as we did when we went to Oak Farm, and had the wreck,” the actor answered.  “I’ve had enough of hoodoos.”

“You’re all right this time ­we leave from track twenty-seven,” called Mr. Pertell.  “All aboard for Deerfield and Elk Lodge!”