He hurried to where he had set down the small moving picture camera, and while the boat was being lowered by the sailors Russ got views of that.

Then he moved closer to the rail, and took more views as the small craft was sent away under the force of the sturdy arms of the rowers.

“This will be great!” Russ cried.

“Oh, but it seems so cold-blooded!” murmured Ruth.  “To take a picture of a drowning man.”

“I don’t think he is drowning,” Paul observed.  “He has the ring, and that will keep him up until the boat reaches him.  They are almost to him, and he seems able to swim well.”

“That’s good,” declared Alice.  She had not turned her head away as had her sister.  In fact, in spite of being two years younger than Ruth, Alice often showed more spirit.  She was of an impulsive nature, and Mr. DeVere used to say she was very like her dead mother.  Ruth was tall and fair, and of a romantic nature.  Alice was more practical.

“There!  They’ve got him!” cried Paul, as the boat came up to the actor in the water.

“That’s good!” sighed Ruth.  “Oh, I was so alarmed.  I think I will go below, Alice, when they bring him on deck.”

“You don’t need to,” said her sister.  “He’s probably all right, except that his fine clothes are spoiled.”

“That’s so!” chuckled Russ, who was industriously grinding away at the handle of the camera.

CHAPTER III

A DISQUIETING ITEM

“Man the falls!”

This order was given by one of the officers as the boat containing the rescued actor came close to the ship’s side.  The sailors stood ready to hoist the boat to the davits again, when the tackle blocks should have been made fast by the hooks to the ring bolts at bow and stern.

“Best chance I ever had to get a rescue picture,” remarked Russ, as he reeled away at the film.

The young operator even managed to get in a favorable position, and take views as the blocks were being made fast to the boat.  Then, as it was hoisted up, he pictured that.

“Is he all right?” asked Mr. Pertell of the sailors in the boat, when the craft was raised to the level of the rail.

“Aye, aye, sir,” answered the steersman.  “Only a bit wet.”

But Mr. Towne was more than a bit wet.  He was completely soaked, and a more bedraggled-looking specimen of humanity would be hard to find.

“Oh, the poor man!” exclaimed Ruth, who had thought better of her determination to go below.

“It’s his own fault,” snapped Miss Pennington.  “He should not have carried on so.”

“Well, it was partly our fault,” interposed Miss Dixon, who was perhaps more just.  “We were laughing with him.”

“Don’t go too close!” cautioned Miss Pennington, as she saw her friend advancing toward the group of sailors, and others who surrounded the rescue party.  They were helping Mr. Towne out of the boat.