fleet,
consisting of several motor boats, in which the fishermen went out twice
each day to pull up the nets that were fast to long poles, sunk into the
sand of the ocean bed in water about forty feet deep.

The fish were brought to the main building, and packed in ice for
transportation. Numbers of local dealers called each day with wagons to
get a load to peddle about. There were only a few houses in the place,
and a store or two.

Once some millionaire had built an elaborate cottage on the beach, but
gave it up for some whim. It was in this cottage, which in size was
almost a mansion, that the moving picture boys and their friends had
their abode. A boarding mistress was installed, and thus the actors and
actresses lived right at the scene of their work, with almost as much
comfort as they would have had in a hotel. The place was not far from
San Diego, and it had the advantage of a heavy surf on the beach, the
big waves making just the background Mr. Ringold wanted. Of course, not
all the scenes were on the water-front, some taking place in front of,
or within, some of the cottages, which were hired for the short time
needed. The fishermen could not seem to understand why a man should pay
them good money for the use of their humble dwellings for a short time.

"It just seems plumb foolishness," declared one grizzled salt. "I don't
see why folks want to make so many pictures of men and women walkin' in
and out of my cottage and sayin' such outlandish things like: 'Gal, you
shall give me them papers!' or, 'Meet me on yonder cliff at midnight!' I
give up!"

"It does seem out of reason, Pete," agreed another. "But as long as they
pay me for it, and don't go to bustin' up things, I'm willin'."

"Oh, so'm I. Keep it up, I says," and Mr. Ringold did, using different
cottages in turn to get a diversity of views.

Sympathy was expressed for Joe on the failure of his mission to find his
father.

"But don't you give up!" exclaimed Mr. Hadley. "China is far off, but it
isn't out of the world. Don't give up, Joe."

"I'll not. I'm going to write to him to-day," and he did, dispatching
the letter to far-off Hong Kong.

There was plenty of work waiting for the boys, some new manuscripts of
sea dramas having come in. Mr. Ringold decided to film several of them,
and rehearsals were already under way.

"I'm going to have a novelty in one of the plays," said the manager.
"It's going to be a fire scene. We'll buy one of thes