"Better let me lop off a few," suggested Sandy, and they agreed that as the chopping would have to be done quite close to the imprisoned one, a more expert hand had better do it.
Sandy quickly had cut a way so the actor could emerge, and at Mr. Pertell's suggestion Russ made moving pictures of it.
"I'll have a new scene written in the play to fit this," the manager said. "Mr. Bunn, I think you might climb that tree over there," and he indicated one within range of the camera.
"Climb a tree! Me!" exclaimed the actor. "What for, pray?"
"Well, I'll have a scene fixed up to indicate that the party gets lost in the woods, and you climb a tree to see if you can spy any landmarks to lead them out of their plight. Just shin up that tree, if you please, and put your hand over your eyes when you get up high enough to see across the tops of the other trees. You know—register that you are looking for the path."
"I refuse to do it!" cried Wellington Bunn. "To climb a tree is beneath my dignity."
"Then climb a tree and get above it," suggested the manager, drily. "You've got to climb; I want you in this scene."
The tall actor groaned, but there was no help for it. Up he went, not without many misgivings and grunts, for he was not an athlete.
"I say!" he cried, when part way up, "if I fall and get hurt you'll have to pay me damages, Mr. Pertell."
"You won't get hurt much," was the not very comforting answer. "And you won't fall, if you keep a tight hold with your arms and legs. But if you do, there's lots of soft moss at the foot of the tree."