to have recovered rapidly from his unexpected bath.

"What for?" asked Mr. Pertell, in surprise. "I haven't seen them, of
course--can't until they're developed, and that won't be for some time.
But I should say the rescue pictures would make a fine film."

"But I want it burned up. I won't have it shown!" insisted Mr. Towne.

"Why not?"

"Do you suppose for one instant--er, ah--that I am going to let the
public see me like this?" and Mr. Towne glanced at his wet and dripping
garments--garments that, but a short time ago, had been a walking
testimonial of the tailor's art. Now they were wet and misshapen.

"Why, you can't expect a man who has just been rescued from New York Bay
to look as though he came out of a band-box; can you, dear man?" asked
Mr. Pertell. "Of course you look wet--the public will expect to see you
wet--dripping with water, in fact. Water always comes out well in the
movies, anyhow. Of course the public wants to see you wet!"

"But I don't want them to!" protested the actor. "I have never been shown
in pictures except when I was well dressed, and I do not propose to begin
now. I will pose for you as soon as I get dry clothes on, but not
in--these!" and he made a despairing motion toward his ruined garments.

"Oh, you are too fussy!" laughed Mr. Pertell. "Those pictures will have
to go. The scene was too good to spoil, as long as you were not drowned."

"I was in no danger of drowning," returned Mr. Towne, coldly. "I am a