The Frontier

MONK, THE HERO
By R. H. WILKINSON
(Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service.)

Fine Films
Motion Picture company, Dimer Stone, returned to its location in the vicinity of the Suncook river, below Fred Barrow's lumber camp, the second year after Monk Saladine had won temporary fame in 15 minutes' time by plucking the leading lady of a film, then in the process of production, from the white waters of the lower rapids.

"Monk, you know, joins us boys at the Barrow's camp every year for the winter's cutting. He is a powerfully built youth, good-natured and lovable, though at times decidedly trying. He has a superiority complex, a manner of boasting and imagining hair-raising experiences in which he always plays the heroic role.

"Fortunately we of the Barrow's camp know and like Monk. We tolerate him because of his kind and gentle soul. And because each winter we attempt to make him the butt of some practical joke which will cure him once and for all of his loquaciousness.

"This year was by no means an exception. Monk had monopolized the majority of our evenings with long and detailed recitations of his experiences during the preceding summer, and by spring we were fed up, tired of the clatter of his tongue, bored to death at sound of him. And, as usual, the boys began putting their heads together, striving to think of some plan whereby Monk would be taught the folly of his ways.

"It was the movie company that gave Dipper McGee the idea for the suggestion. The Fine Film people had become established near the lower rapids at about the same time our spring drive was getting under way. Fred Barrows informed us they planned to take some shots of the drive, to be used in the filming of a Northwest thriller.

"Fred also said that the company's director would pay handsomely to secure a double to replace his leading man during an especially breath-taking episode.

"Whereas none of us were eager to risk our necks for the sake of a few extra dollars, Dipper McGee strolled one day over to the movie lot and inquired after the job. That night he conveyed to us the nature of the doubling act and proposed, also, that of all us boys, Monk Saladine was the man to fill the bill.

"Monk wasn't present at the moment, and Dipper went into details. It seems that the hero of the story was supposed to be scaling the cliff which overlooks the river just above the lower rapids. He is carrying in his arms the leading lady. Midway down the cliff the hero's foot slips and he plunges into the river below and is swept away into the rapids. It was, declared Dipper, this episode in the drama which caused the leading man to get cold feet and demand the substitution of a double.

"It was a risky piece of business even for a man experienced in that sort of work. But if anyone could accomplish the act it was Monk Saladine, though we suspected even he would display some reluctance when the proposition was offered. However, Dipper had foreseen this difficulty.

"Dipper's plan was to sell Monk the idea of accepting the doubling position, using as a persuasive measure the fact that he would win fame as a picture actor. This, thought Dipper, would be entirely suited to the talkative one's vanity. No need, declared Dipper, to mention the inevitable plunge into the river. It would never occur to Monk that it was impossible to descend the cliff. It would never occur to him, either, that all the credit for the hazardous experience would go to the leading man who, of course, would be safely installed on solid ground.

"The plan was a good one, and as Dipper had predicted, Monk fell in with it heartily enough. His mind was a single-track affair, and he pictured himself as the hero of a movie drama.

"Dipper had previously conversed with the movie director, and it had been agreed not to mention the river plunge, or that we boys would be waiting on the rocks below in the rapids should danger of drowning threaten our hero.

"The day for the 'stunt' arrived, and Monk, after listening to detailed instructions from the director, took his place on the cliff above the river. Below on the rocks we boys arranged ourselves and settled down to enjoy the episode. Camera men were placed with their machines at various points up and down the river and on the cliff above.

"Suddenly we heard the cry 'camera!' and saw Monk appear on the edge of the cliff. He held in his arms the limp form of a girl. Without hesitation he stepped over the cliff's edge and began the perilous descent.

"Hardly had he got underway before we saw a commotion on top of the cliff. We heard shouts and saw wildly gesticulating figures. And we noticed, also, that the girl in Monk's arms had begun to struggle wildly. The camera men and directors who were stationed at the foot of the cliff also began to shout and point.

"Puzzled, we sat still and watched, conscious of a feeling that something had gone wrong. And then above the roar of sound we caught a word or two and guessed what had happened.

"It was Dipper's fault. Dipper had failed to tell Monk that before beginning his descent of the cliff he was supposed to substitute the leading lady, whom he was rescuing, for a dummy. And if the directors had mentioned the substitution to Monk, he had, under the excitement of the moment, overlooked the fact.

"He was making that perilous descent with a live girl in his arms, unsuspecting that sooner or later it was inevitable that the precarious holds which the cliff offered, give way, and he plunge into the river below.

"Things looked bad; worse because there was now no stopping him.

"Down he came, inches at a time. Breathlessly we watched, doubtful, regretful, afraid.

"And then suddenly it happened. Monk had reached a point midway down the cliff and had paused. The girl in his arms was quiet now, probably having fainted. We saw him clutch frantically at an outgrowing bush, saw the bush tremble, saw Monk reach for another hold; saw him sway outward clutching wildly at the crumbling earth, saw him plunge into space still gripping the girl; saw his body turn over once and come hurtling down toward the river.

"We were on our feet, waiting for them to come to the surface, skeptical about their fate. Alone, with our help, Monk might have been saved. But with the girl on his hands, it was different. We knew he wouldn't think twice about himself when the girl was in danger.

"Suddenly two heads bobbed above the surface. Monk shook the water from his eyes, reached out and grabbed the girl and began swimming toward the opposite shore, away from us. We shouted for him to turn, but a moment later realized he'd used his head. The current on our side would have swept them into the rapids.

"It looked like a losing fight even at that. The current was swift; the girl was a dead weight. But Monk was not only fighting to save himself and the girl from death, he was fighting for his vanity.

"Just how he accomplished the feat only Monk can tell. And in the telling he will leave nothing for the imagination; nor any doubt as to his own heroism. We have heard the tale a hundred times since, and can do naught but listen and condemn Dipper for thinking up such a fool idea.

"For Monk not only reached the opposite bank and saved the girl, but the cameras caught every move of the rescue. Every detail of the adventure was recorded by the machines. And the film later proved to contain more realism than the director had ever dreamed about.

"Monk was pronounced a hero, given a bonus in addition to the promised reward, and offered a contract to stunt for the company during the summer.

"But, in spite of everything, Monk returns to the Barrow's camp each fall for the winter's cutting, and to entertain us with stories of his exaggerated experiences. Of course, we haven't told him how our plan to cure him of his loquaciousness went haywire. He'd never believe us, after what happened."