The three boys ran out on the drift to the edge, and stepped over. The snow was soft enough so that they sank in a little and pushed enough snow ahead to bank up after ten or a dozen feet. When it did this, it would pitch you head foremost unless you were spry and jumped over the bank in time. The first try all three boys went headlong a quarter of the way down, and made the rest of the trip on their stomachs. They got up and struggled back up the steep incline.
By this time the camera was set up and focussed.
“Good!” said Mr. Stone. “Now get out of the picture a way, and when I say ‘Shoot’ come walking in to the edge. Stop there a moment and point, as if you were daring each other to go down. Then all slide. Keep your feet if you can. At the bottom, get up quickly, and come scrambling back. Ready? Get on your marks, shoot!”
The three boys came into the picture as the crank ground and the camera clicked. They stopped at the rim, and began to act.
“I dast you to slide down!” said Bennie, forgetting this was a movie, and nobody would hear his voice.
“Ho!” said Dumplin’, “that’s nothin’.”
He tossed off his cap. Spider tossed off his. The three of them stepped over the rim, and shot down. Dumplin’ got a third of the way and spilled, head foremost. A second later Spider followed him. Only Bennie got to the bottom on his feet. He yelled and waved his arms in triumph, and all three started scrambling and slipping back up the drift, digging into the snow with heels and hands. As they came up over the rim again, the camera stopped clicking.
“Good,” said Mr. Stone. “That’s a dandy.”
“Some Douglas Fairbanks, eh?” cried Bennie. “Gee, Dumplin’, you sure did a comic fall. Bet that would get a laugh on the screen.”
“My hands are cold—and I’m sweating,” said Lester. “That’s going some.”