CHAPTER XXIA GRAND SUCCESS
“Whathave you decided, Frank?” asked Pep.
“I think our duty to Vic is to do what we can for him,” was the prompt reply of the whole-souled leader of the motion picture chums.
“Yes, he is a good-hearted fellow,” declared Pep, warmly, “and he is worrying more than you think about those camels of his.”
“I can see that. I can see also,” added Frank with a quizzical expression of face, “that you are about as anxious as he is to play detective and get on the track of the animals.”
“I’ll do better than that man you sent out to find the camels, I’ll bet,” vaunted Pep. “Why, he just wasted time. Then when you gave him the tip about Brinton, he either missed his cue or botched it and scared away the game. No, sir—you give Vic and me a chance and we’ll find out where the camels are hidden unless the animals have been spirited away to some distant place.”
“It’s a bad time to spare you, Pep,” said Frank, in a business-like way.
“I know that,” responded Pep. “The last two days have shown what people think of the Standard. Wasn’t it just grand last night?”
“See you in a minute, Pep,” interrupted Frank, as Mr. Strapp called to him from the office, and he left Pep to think over how grand, indeed, had been the progress of the Standard since opening up regularly.
The week had started in with a programme of only two daily entertainments—a matinee from two to four and an evening bill from eight to ten. This was to continue for that week to try out the plan. The programme was quite a long one, but this very fact induced the class of people the Standard was reaching for to come from a distance to an entertainment lasting two hours.
There had been almost a scramble for seats the day before. The Standard, roomy as it was, had its auditorium packed at both afternoon and evening entertainments. The night before, Pep, as he now sat recalling it, fancied he would never forget.
The feature of the evening was the most beautiful floral film he had ever seen. It was labelled “The Century Plant.” Professor Barringtonhad held high hopes as to the attractive qualities of this unusual film and had not been disappointed.
It appeared that a convention of horticulturists from all over the East was being held in Boston. The professor knew its officers. His suggestions and influence had resulted in a viva voce resolution on the part of the convention to go and see the famous film in a body.
By eight o’clock nearly three hundred of the delegates and their wives filled one entire section of the big auditorium. Then there filed in over one hundred students from Harvard University and Wellesley College.
“You could fairly smell the perfume!” declared Mr. Strapp.
It was no wonder, therefore, that Pep reflected that he was missing a great thing in leaving Boston on the proposed mission. He was, however, loyal to Vic. They had become great friends, and to Pep more particularly Vic betrayed his deep anxiety to learn the fate of the stolen “ships of the desert.”
The day after Pep’s stirring adventures at the New Idea he and Vic had related their details to Frank. The latter was fully convinced that Pep had made an important discovery. Frank at once telegraphed to the special agent who wastrying to find the stolen animals to go to Brinton and see what he could find out. As a matter of fact the man had discovered nothing and Frank had called him in and paid him off.
Frank handed Pep a roll of bank notes as he returned from the office of the playhouse.
“Mr. Strapp thinks you and Vic had better try your luck on this proposition,” he advised his eager chum. “Don’t let money stand in the way of accomplishing something.”
“Oh, we’re going to find those camels,” declared the optimistic Pep. “I’d better go to the hotel and get Vic and start for Brinton on the first evening train.”
“All right,” nodded Frank. “I’ll go with you as far as the hotel.”
“Say, Frank,” remarked Pep, as they left the Standard, “I hope we’re not going to miss ‘the great film.’”
“Oh, I don’t think that will be ready until next week. That reminds me, too: I must send Randy with a message right away to Mr. Randall. He hasn’t been feeling very well for a day or two. I don’t want to have him think we are neglecting him, but we have been so busy yesterday and to-day that neither Professor Barrington nor myself could find time to visit him.”
Mr. Randall was the man who had been sentout on the big film expedition. Pep and Randy had seen him only once, and he had impressed them greatly. He had received a joyous greeting from the professor when he arrived, and had at once been placed in possession of a little studio about a mile from the playhouse. The location was retired and pains had been taken to keep it secret.
Mr. Randall had come back from his wonderful expedition a good deal of a wreck. One ear had been bitten off by some beast of prey, the other had been frozen and a part of it was missing.
The scarred and battered adventurer was now working on the development of the negatives of the great film and had been given a full studio equipment to perfect this.
Meantime, the Standard had whetted public curiosity and interest by putting out in the daily prints little hints as to the coming great film. They had also announced this grand feature on the screen at the Standard.
“I suppose Slavin and his crowd are just worrying themselves to death guessing what the great film really is,” Randy had remarked.
Frank had decided it the best policy to leave the New Idea crowd entirely alone. He did not even strive to find out how they were succeedingwith their new enterprise. The bustling Pep, however, was an inquisitive news gatherer. He had reported only the evening before.
“Slavin had no crowd at all the second night.”
“And the third?” Randy had asked.
“There wasn’t any third night,” explained Pep with a grin. “They had some trouble with the people who furnished their electric light outfit, I heard. Anyway, they weren’t allowed to open till they settled the bill. Last night they ran a second camel film, but there weren’t many there to see it.”
When they got to the hotel it took Pep and Vic only a few minutes to make up a package of necessaries for what they believed would be a brief trip. Frank had written a hurried note while they were packing up.
“Here, Randy,” he said, “I would like to have you take a message to Mr. Randall and see how he is getting along. You know where his studio is?”
“Oh, yes,” replied Randy, “I’ve been there once already, you know. Why, it’s on the way to your depot, fellows,” he added to Pep and Vic. “We’ll take the walk together; eh?”
“Nothing better,” chirped the lively Pep, and the little coterie bade Frank good-bye and started on their way.
Pep kept up his usual brisk chattering the mile or less they had to cover. When they came to a point where the street leading to Randy’s destination diverged they parted.
“Come on,” directed Pep, as Randy turned away with an expressed hope that they would have all kinds of good luck in their mission. Pep had found Vic staring back of him and caught his arm urging him along.
“What’s the matter?” he added.
“I was just looking,” replied Vic, rather strangely.
“Looking for what?” asked Pep.
“Well, I fancied I saw two fellows who looked a good deal like some men we saw at the New Idea the other night dodge into a doorway back of us. They’ve disappeared, though. Say, do you suppose they were following us?”
“If they were,” replied Pep, “I’ll fool them. Quick, now!” as they turned a sharp corner.
Out of view of any possible pursuers, Pep made a dive through a narrow space between two buildings and Vic followed him. In three minutes’ time they had reached the next street.