"No, but as long as you're not hurt we'll leave it in. It will make a little variety. Why didn't you get out of the way?" "Nobody tolt me to. I t'ought Herr Sneed knowed vot he vos doin' by der tree yet! Vhy shoult I get der vay oudt?" "Well, I knew something would happen when I tried to chop a tree," grumbled the author of the mischief. "As long as it's nothing very bad we'll forgive you," went on the manager. "Und I forgif him, too," spoke the German. "Only he must now use his axe again und get me out of dis. I am helt fast yet!" This was true enough, for the branches, though not heavy enough to have caused any injury, were quite thick, and fairly hemmed Mr. Switzer in. "Better let me lop off a few," suggested Sandy, and they agreed that as the chopping would have to be done quite close to the imprisoned one, a more expert hand had better do it. Sandy quickly had cut a way so the actor could emerge, and at Mr. Pertell's suggestion Russ made moving pictures of it. "I'll have a new scene written in the play to fit this," the manager said. "Mr. Bunn, I think you might climb that tree over there," and he indicated one within range of the camera. "Climb a tree! Me!" exclaimed the actor. "What for, pray?" "Well, I'll have a scene fixed up to indicate that the party gets lost in the woods, and you climb a tree to see if you can spy any landmarks to lead them out of their plight. Just shin up that tree, if you please, and put your hand over your eyes when you get up high enough to see across the tops of the other trees. You know--register that you are looking for the path." "I refuse to do it!" cried Wellington Bunn. "To climb a tree is beneath my dignity." "Then climb a tree and get above it," suggested the manager, drily. "You've got to climb; I want you in this scene." The tall actor groaned, but there was no help for it. Up he went, not without many misgivings and grunts, for he was not an athlete. "I say!" he cried, when part way up, "if I fall and get hurt you'll have to pay me damages, Mr. Pertell." "You won't get hurt much," was the not very comforting answer. "And you won't fall, if you keep a tight hold with your arms and legs. But if you do, there's lots of soft moss at the foot of the tree." "Oh, this life! This terrible life!" groaned Mr. Bunn. "Why did I ever go into moving pictures?" No one answered him. Perhaps they thought the reason was that he had outlived his drawing powers in the legitimate drama. Finally he reached the top of the tree, and pretended to be looking for a path for the lost ones, while Russ, always at the camera, successfully filmed him. "That's enough--come on down," ordered Mr. Pertell. Mr. Bunn came down more quickly than he went up, and the last few feet he slid down so rapidly that he scratched his hands, and tore his trousers. "You'll have to pay for them," he said, ruefully, as he looked at the rent.