a rude sort of raft, on which could be seen farm animals; views of whole towns partly inundated, and people being taken from roofs and out of third-story windows in small boats. It was a photographic story of untold misery and desolation.
"Yes, sir, that sure is some flood, Blake," murmured Joe. "And do you know what I think?"
"I might make a guess at it, old man."
But Joe did not give his chum a chance. He went on hastily:
"I think we ought to go out there with our moving picture cameras, and get some films of that flood."
"I thought you were going to say that."
"Then you're not surprised. But how does it strike you?"
"Well, I sure would like to see the Mississippi on a tear the like of which she's having now, for it would be something worth remembering And I suppose we could make a neat little sum, over and above our expenses, if we went out there and got a lot of films. We could work them off through the moving picture newspaper syndicate easily enough. But you know why we came out here to Central Falls; don't you, Joe?" added Blake.
"To get a good rest in the country, of course."
