“He grabs the rope, up he goes, and bang! bang! go the rifles of the guards.”
“See here, Mr. Alden,” objected the airman, “do you know how long that convict would hold on to that rope?”
“He don’t hold on six feet. Just clutches it for an instant. Only enough to take the act of rising. Then we shut off the camera. We finish up his dashing against chimneys, flag poles and the clouds with a dummy in our studio.”
“I see,” nodded Mr. King, enlightened. “About dropping that rope, though, some one will have to assist me. Let one of your men go up with me.”
Just here the hunter man sneaked behind the automobile. The Indian actor got very busy donning the garb of a prison guard.
“They don’t seem to want to try it,” laughed Mr. King.
“Would I do?” asked Dave, promptly stepping forward.
“The very thing,” exclaimed the motion picture man.
“Not afraid, Dashaway?” asked Mr. King.
“Afraid? With you? I’d be the happiest boy in the world,” declared Dave.