Part 4 (1/2)
The old sailor looked up quickly, stopping in his progress toward a bench, whither Alice was leading him. It was in a quiet corner of the studio, some distance away from the various little groups that, in three-sided rooms (before the open part of which cameras were placed, and over which big lights hissed) were going through their parts in the silent dramas.
”This is my sister,” Alice said.
”Oh, yes, I remember now,” Jack Jepson said. ”There's so much goin' on that I get a bit confused. But I can see you two look alike. Are you goin' to put me reefin' sails or scrubbin' decks?” he asked.
”Neither one,” Ruth said with a smile. ”I told Mr. Pertell, our manager, that I'd explain what was wanted of you. It is very simple, and----”
”I don't call it simple t' rob an' cheat!” cried Jack with energy, ”an'
that's what he wanted _me_ to do.”
”I'll explain, and I think you'll find it all right,” Ruth went on. ”My sister and I are in this business,” she added, ”and I don't believe you think _we_ would do anything wrong.”
”Far be it--far be it,” said the old salt, earnestly.
”Oh, but before you came, Ruth dear,” suggested Alice, ”Mr. Jepson was going to tell me----”
”Avast there! Belay! Hold on!” exclaimed the sailor, his voice ringing out through the studio, above the tones of those actors who, to give greater verisimilitude to their work were talking their parts, as well as going through them. They smiled at the old salt's energy.
”Wait a minute, Miss,” he went on in lower tones. ”I didn't mean t' be so quick, but that Mr. Jepson business won't do. Not at all!”
”Why, isn't that your name?” asked Ruth. ”I understood Mr. Pertell to say----”
”Oh, that's my name--at least the Jepson part of it is. But I don't like the mister. I'm not used to it. The only time of late years when I was called Mister was when I was up before the lawyers, and I didn't like it then. Jest please call me Jack Jepson, an' 'twill sound more natural. I ask it as a favor, Miss,” and he looked from Ruth to Alice.
”Why of course we'll call you Jack,” a.s.sented the latter. ”It will sound nicer anyhow, I think,” she added. ”Now go on with your story. You said there was a mystery in it. Has it anything to do with--buried treasure?”
and Alice leaned forward eagerly.
”Buried treasure? No, Miss. What made you ask that?”
”The idea!” exclaimed Ruth with a laugh. ”I'm afraid you'll think my sister very romantic, Mr.--er--Jack.”
”That's better!” he laughed. ”Well, I don't know much about romance. My life's been mostly hard work.”
”I just mentioned treasure,” Alice said with a little laugh, and a glance toward where Miss Pennington and Miss Dixon, having a rest from their moving picture work, were curiously eyeing the old sailor and the two girls.
”Well, my mystery hasn't anything t' do with buried treasure,” resumed Jack Jepson. ”It's about a mutiny that took place off th' Hole in th'
Wall, about five years ago, an'----”
”Hole in the Wall!” interrupted Ruth. ”I thought mutinies always took place on the high seas.”
”Well, this _was_ the high seas,” Jack answered.
”But the Hole--?”
”That's the name of a pa.s.sage between Great Abaco Island and Eleuthera, in the West Indies,” the sailor replied. ”I don't know why it's called that, but it is.”
”A queer name,” murmured Ruth.
”Go on, please,” urged Alice.
”Well, I was second mate aboard a five masted schooner engaged in the lumber business,” went on Jack Jepson. ”We were going down to South America, in ballast t' bring back a cargo of hard woods, an' off the Hole in the Wall th' trouble started.
”Some of the crew kicked on account of the grub--that's the stuff we eat on a s.h.i.+p,” he explained.