“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose,” the actor protested, as he managed, not without some difficulty, to extricate himself from the briars.

Then he ran on, Russ making picture after picture, while the manager rapidly changed some of the other scenes on the typewritten sheets to conform to the accident of which he had so cleverly made use.

“Mr. Bunn, I have a new part for you, in this same play,” the manager said, when Mr. Towne was finally allowed to rest.

“What is it?” asked the older actor.  “I hope you can put in something about Shakespeare.  I have not had a Shakespearean part in so long that I have almost forgotten how to do it properly.”

“I can’t promise you that this time,” said the manager.  “But it just occurred to me that you could also try to trace the escaping lovers, and get stuck in a bog-hole.”

“Who, the lovers get stuck in a bog?”

“No, you!”

“Me?  Never!  I refuse—­”

“Now hold on, Mr. Bunn!” said Mr. Pertell, quickly.  “I am not asking you to do much.  You need not get in the bog deeper than up to your knees.  That will answer very well.  You can pretend it is a sort of quicksand bog and that you are sinking deeper and deeper.  You call for help, and Mr. Switzer comes to get you out.”

“I refuse to do it!” cried the actor.

“And I insist!” declared Mr. Pertell, sharply.  “Your contract calls for any reasonable amount of work, and to wade into a bog knee-deep is not unreasonable.”

“But I will spoil my shoes and trousers.”

“No matter, I will provide you with new ones.  You need not sacrifice your tall hat this time.”

“That is one comfort,” sighed the old actor.  “Well, I suppose there is no help for it.  Where is the bog hole?”

“I think this one will do,” said the manager, pointing to one where Mr. Towne had fallen into the mud.  “You will come along, pretending to look for the fleeing lovers, and you will unwittingly wade out into the bog.  There you will struggle to release yourself, but you will be unable to, and will call for help.  Mr. Switzer, who is also on the trail, will respond and he will wade out and save you.”

“Excuse me,” remarked the German actor, softly, “but vy iss it necessary dot I rescue him?”

“Why he can’t rescue himself,” declared Mr. Pertell.  “You’ve got to do it.”

“No, dot I did not mean.  I meant dot as Herr Towne iss alretty wet and muddy, dot he could as vell do der rescue act.”

“That’s so.  It will be better!” said the manager.  “I didn’t think of that.  I’ll have Towne do it.  He can come along on the film right after he’s pulled himself out of the ditch.  Fix it up that way, Russ.”

“All right, Mr. Pertell.”

“Have I got to go in more mud and water?” demanded the fastidious actor.

“Yes,” replied the manager.  “But it won’t be much.  Just a few feet or so of film.”