as leaning against a post, as
if in despair of ever completing that day's run of film.

"No, no, Mr. Bunn, you must not do it that way," the manager was saying.
"When Ardite, in the character of the young outlaw, shoots at you, stand
up without flinching. That's your part--to be indifferent to gunfire."

"Oh, that's my part, is it? Just to be shot at!" cried the old "Ham"
actor. "Well, it's a mighty poor part, that's all I've got to say! It
will be the last time I ever take a part like that. Oh, why did I ever
leave the legitimate stage?"

"Ha! Maybe it was because the stage would have left you, had you not
left it," said Mr. Switzer, who was dressed up as a German comedian, and
taking part in another play.

"Ha! What is that?" asked Mr. Bunn pompously. But Mr. Switzer did not
repeat his remark. He was called to resume his part.

"Now Mr. Bunn, stand up and be shot at!" commanded Mr. Pertell. "Come,
come! We can't lose all day on this little play. I've got to get busy on
the marine drama, and I want some of you in that. Ready with that gun
now, Paul!"

"Yes, shoot him!" murmured Mr. Pepper Sneed, the human grouch. "Aim it
right at him. Of course they are only blank cartridges," he added
cheerfully, "but if the wadding hits you Bunn, lockjaw is almost sure to
follow. Go on and shoot. I know something will happen," and he looked as
though he would be disappointed if his prophesy were not borne out. "Go
on, shoot!"

"No! No! I protest! I withdraw from this play!" cried Mr. Bunn, looking
around for his tall hat, without which he seldom was seen. It was his
one remnant of departed glory.

"No, you'll not withdraw!" cried Mr. Pertell. "We've got half the film
run off with you on, and you've got to stick it out. Go on, Paul. And,
Mr. Sneed, you needn't trouble to stand here and look on, as you're not
in this cast. You have a--depressing effect."

Mr. Sneed certainly did. However, he moved away, and the play went on.
It was successfully filmed, and then Mr. Pertell was free to take up,
where he had left off, the discussion of the preliminaries of the marine
drama. "Out on The Deep" it was to be called.

"Well, how about it?" asked the manager, as he approached the moving
picture girls, their father and sailor Jack. "Have you succeeded in
convincing him?"

"That's what they have, Mr. Pertell," the old salt said. "I'm sorry I
made such a fuss about those false papers. I didn't know it was only
make-believe."

"Wel