"Birdie Lee!" cried Joe, for he and Blake were both very fond of the pretty, vivacious girl, whose pictures they had taken many times, as she went through her parts before the camera.
"I only hope we can rescue her," murmured Blake. "It certainly is a bad bit of news."
"And he didn't say how it happened?" inquired Joe.
"All he told me," resumed Blake, "was that the company was performing open-air stuff near the flooded district. How they happened to be carried away Mr. Ringold didn't know. It seems that someone telegraphed him the news, that's how he heard of it."
"And how did he happen to think of us, and how did he know we were here?"
"He says he thought of us at once—as soon as he got the news," went on Blake, "and he had our address. We left it with him when we came here, you know, but told him not to send for us except in case of emergency."
"And this sure is an emergency," cried Joe.
"You're right," agreed his chum. "Mr. Ringold got busy on the telephone, and—well, you know the rest. I told him we'd start for New York as soon as we could pack up. He'll meet us there, and then we'll head straight for the flooded district with our cameras."
