"I have you! Don't worry! I'll save you!" she could hear Paul murmuring in her ear. Then her head cleared, and she was able to recognize the voice and make out the words of someone on the opposite bank, toward which Paul was swimming with his burden.
For the voice was the voice of Russ Dalwood, and his words sounded strangely enough under the circumstances.
"That's it! Come right over here!" the young moving picture operator called. "I'm getting a dandy film! That's it, Paul, a little more to the left! That's the finest rescue scene I ever got! It's great acting!"
"Why—why you—you don't mean to say you're filming us!" cried Paul, for he was now in shallow water and could stand upright, holding Alice in his arms.
"Of course I'm filming you!" exclaimed Russ. "Do you think I'd let an act like this get past me? Not much!" and he continued to grind away at the crank of his machine, which he had hastily set up on the edge of the stream, where he commanded a good view of those in the water.
"But this isn't acting!" said Paul, ready to laugh, now that the danger was over. "This is real! Alice fell in, and I went in after her. It's the real thing!"
"Great Scott!" cried Russ. "I thought you were rehearsing for some play, and as I came along I thought I might as well get the scene, even if it was only a rehearsal. For I had plenty of film left, and sometimes the rehearsal comes out better than the real thing. And so it was an accident?"
"Of course it was," answered Paul. "But as long as you've got it on the film I suppose there's no help for it."
"It's a fine scene, all right," went on Russ, "and Mr. Pertell can work it into some of his plays." He ceased operating the camera now, as Paul and Alice were too close.
"Are you much hurt?" asked the young rescuer, anxiously, as he looked for a grassy spot whereon to place his burden.