Mr. Bunn continued to sink in the bog. He pulled and struggled to get
out, apparently without success. Then his tall hat fell off from the
violence of his exertions, and he barely saved it from a muddy bath.

"Help! Help! I'm sinking!" he cried.

"Good! That's the way to act it!" encouraged Mr. Pertell. "Now, Mr.
Towne, you come up to the rescue in a few seconds. Don't mind the mud,
either. Go right out to him. You can't be much worse off."

"Indeed I cannot," agreed the other, as he glanced at his soiled suit.

"Wait just a minute more," said Mr. Pertell to the prospective rescuer.
"Give him a chance to struggle more. It will look better."

"No, let him come at once and save me! Save me at once!"

"Why?" the manager wanted to know.

"Because I really am sinking! This isn't play! The quicksand has me in
its grip!"

And, as Mr. Pertell looked about, unable to tell whether the actor was
saying that as part of the "business," or because he was in earnest, the
unfortunate man cried out in real anguish:

"Save me! Save me! I am in the quicksand and it's sucking me down!"

"That's right! He is in a quicksand bog!" cried one of the steamer hands