

E-text prepared by Afra Ullah, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg
Online Distributed Proofreading Team



Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West

By Edith Van Dyne

1914






CONTENTS

CHAPTER

      I CAUGHT BY THE CAMERA

     II AN OBJECT LESSON

    III AN ATTRACTIVE GIRL

     IV AUNT JANE'S NIECES

      V A THRILLING RESCUE

     VI A. JONES

    VII THE INVALID

   VIII THE MAGIC OF A NAME

     IX DOCTOR PATSY

      X STILL A MYSTERY

     XI A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS

    XII PICTURES, GIRLS AND NONSENSE

   XIII A FOOLISH BOY

    XIV ISIDORE LE DRIEUX

     XV A FEW PEARLS

    XVI TROUBLE

   XVII UNCLE JOHN IS PUZZLED

  XVIII DOUBTS AND DIFFICULTIES

    XIX MAUD MAKES A MEMORANDUM

     XX A GIRLISH NOTION

    XXI THE YACHT "ARABELLA"

   XXII MASCULINE AND FEMININE

  XXIII THE ADVANTAGE OF A DAY

   XXIV PICTURE NUMBER NINETEEN

    XXV JUDGMENT

   XXVI SUNSHINE AFTER RAIN





CHAPTER I

CAUGHT BY THE CAMERA


"This is getting to be an amazing old world," said a young girl, still in
her "teens," as she musingly leaned her chin on her hand.

"It has always been an amazing old world, Beth," said another girl who
was sitting on the porch railing and swinging her feet in the air.

"True, Patsy," was the reply; "but the people are doing such peculiar
things nowadays."

"Yes, yes!" exclaimed a little man who occupied a reclining chair within
hearing distance; "that is the way with you young folks--always
confounding the world with its people."

"Don't the people make the world, Uncle John?" asked Patricia Doyle,
looking at him quizzically.

"No, indeed; the world could get along very well without its people; but
the people--"

"To be sure; they need the world," laughed Patsy, her blue eyes
twinkling so that they glorified her plain, freckled face.

"Nevertheless," said Beth de Graf, soberly, "I think the people have
struck a rapid pace these days and are growing bold and impudent. The law
appears to allow them too much liberty. After our experience of this
morning I shall not be surprised at anything that happens--especially in
this cranky state of California."

"To what experience do you allude, Beth?" asked Uncle John, sitting up
straight and glancing from one to another of his two nieces. He was a
genial looking, round-faced man, quite bald and inclined to be a trifle
stout; yet his fifty-odd years sat lightly upon him.

"Why, we had quite an adventure this morning," said Patsy, laughing
again at the recollection, and answering her uncle because Beth
hesitated to. "For my part, I think it was fun, and harmless fun, at
that; but Beth was scared out of a year's growth. I admit feeling a
little creepy at the time, myself; but it was all a joke and really we
ought not to mind it at all."

"Tell me all about it, my dear!" said Mr. Merrick, earnestly, for
whatever affected his beloved nieces was of prime importance to him.

"We were taking our morning stroll along the streets," began Patsy, "when
on turning a corner we came upon a crowd of people who seemed to be
greatly excited. Most of them were workmen in flannel shirts, their
sleeves rolled up, their hands grimy with toil. These stood before a
brick building that seemed like a factory, while from its doors other
crowds of workmen and some shopgirls were rushing into the street and
several policemen were shaking their clubs and running here and there in
a sort of panic. At first Beth and I stopped and hesitated to go on, but
as the sidewalk seemed open and fairly free I pulled Beth along, thinking
we might discover what the row was about. Just as we got opposite the
building a big workman rushed at us and shouted: 'Go back--go back! The
wall is falling.'

"Well, Uncle, you can imagine our dismay. We both screamed, for we
thought our time had come, for sure. My legs were so weak that Beth had
to drag me away and her face was white as a sheet and full of terror.
Somehow we managed to stagger into the street, where a dozen men caught
us and hurried us away. I hardly thought we were in a safe place when the
big workman cried: 'There, young ladies; that will do. Your expression
was simply immense and if this doesn't turn out to be the best film of
the year, I'll miss my guess! Your terror-stricken features will make a
regular hit, for the terror wasn't assumed, you know. Thank you very much
for happening along just then.'"

Patsy stopped her recital to laugh once more, with genuine merriment, but
her cousin Beth seemed annoyed and Uncle John was frankly bewildered.

"But--what--what--was it all about?" he inquired.

"Why, they were taking a moving picture, that was all, and the workmen
and shopgirls and policemen were all actors. There must have been a
hundred of them, all told, and when we recovered from our scare I could
hear the machine beside me clicking away as it took the picture."

"Did the wall fall?" asked Uncle John.

"Not just then. They first got the picture of the rush-out and the
panic, and then they stopped the camera and moved the people to a safe
distance away. We watched them set up some dummy figures of girls and
workmen, closer in, and then in some way they toppled over the big brick
wall. It fell into the street with a thundering crash, but only the
dummies were buried under the debris."

Mr. Merrick drew a long breath.

"It's wonderful!" he exclaimed. "Why, it must have cost a lot of money to
ruin such a building--and all for the sake of a picture!"

"That's what I said to the manager," replied Patsy; "but he told us the
building was going to be pulled down, anyhow, and a better one built in
its place; so he invented a picture story to fit the falling walls and it
didn't cost him so much as one might think. So you see, Uncle, we are in
that picture--big as life and scared stiff--and I'd give a lot to see how
we look when we're positively terror-stricken."

"It will cost you just ten cents," remarked Beth, with a shrug; "that is,
if the picture proves good enough to be displayed at one of those horrid
little theatres."

"One?" said Uncle John. "One thousand little theatres, most likely, will
show the picture, and perhaps millions of spectators will see you and
Patsy running from the falling wall."

"Dear me!" wailed Patsy. "That's more fame than I bargained for. Do
millions go to see motion pictures, Uncle?"

"I believe so. The making of these pictures is getting to be an enormous
industry. I was introduced to Otis Werner, the other day, and he told me
a good deal about it. Werner is with one of the big concerns here--the
Continental, I think--and he's a very nice and gentlemanly fellow. I'll
introduce you to him, some time, and he'll tell you all the wonders of
the motion picture business."

"I haven't witnessed one of those atrocious exhibitions for months,"
announced Beth; "nor have I any desire to see one again."

"Not our own special picture?" asked Patsy reproachfully.

"They had no right to force us into their dreadful drama," protested
Beth. "Motion pictures are dreadfully tiresome things--comedies and
tragedies alike. They are wild and weird in conception, quite unreal and
wholly impossible. Of course the scenic pictures, and those recording
historical events, are well enough in their way,