By the time they reached the man in the boat and the fellow with the gun, the individual who had gone overboard was coming up the river bank, dripping water with every step.

“Say, was that all right?” he demanded, as he stripped off his coat and wrung the water from it.  “I hope it was, because I don’t want to go through that again, not even for the extra five dollars.”

“So you are taking moving pictures,” remarked Tom, pleasantly.  “That was sure a great scene.”

“Oh, so you saw it, did you?” returned the man with a gun.  “I thought we were here all alone,” and he did not seem to be particularly pleased over the boys’ arrival.

“Going to take some more pictures here?” questioned Sam.

“That’s our business,” answered the man in the boat, crustily.

“Well, maybe it’s ours, too,” returned the youngest Rover, quickly, not liking the manner in which he had been addressed.  “This land belongs to my folks.”

“Oh, is that it?” cried the man, and now he looked a bit more pleasant.  “Are you the Rovers?”

“Yes.”

“No, we are about done with our picture taking in this vicinity,” continued the man in the boat.  The next picture in this series is to be at the railroad station at Oak Run.”

“Say, I would like to get into some of those movies,” remarked Tom.  “I imagine it would be a lot of fun.”

“Not if you’ve got to go overboard as I did,” grumbled the man who was wet.  “Talk about the strenuous life, this takes the cake!  Why, in the past ten days, I have gone over a cliff, rescued two women from a burning tenement house, climbed a rope hanging from a burning balloon, and fallen off a moving freight car.  Can you beat that for action?”

“Certainly some stunts!” answered Tom.  “But one must get a lot of fun out of it.”

“Oh, sure!  Especially when one of the women you are saving from the burning house gets nervous for fear the flames will reach her, and grabs you by the ear and nearly pulls it off,” growled the moving picture actor.

“Say!” yelled the man with the megaphone.  “Aren’t you coming over here to get us?”

“Of course,” returned the man in the boat, hastily.  “Bill, give me that other oar,” he went on, and having secured the blade, he lost no time in rowing over to the island.  In the meanwhile, the fellow with the camera had dismounted the moving picture machine and folded up the tripod, and was ready to depart.

“Would you mind telling me what this picture is going to be called?” asked Sam.  “We would like to know so, if we see it advertised anywhere, we can take a look at it.”

“This is scene twenty-eight from ‘His Last Chance,’” answered the man with the gun.

“All right, we’ll take a chance on ‘His Last Chance’ when we get the chance,” answered Tom with a grin, and at this play on words the moving picture men smiled.  Soon they had packed all their belongings, and, getting into the boat, they started down the stream for a landing some distance below.