The Motion Picture Chums at Seaside Park Part 9

"'Home, Sweet Home.'"

The staunch friend of the motion picture chums waved his hand like a showman proudly exhibiting wares. He had a smiling and enthusiastic audience. Everybody was smiling, even Hal Vincent, who had no particular interest in the new photo playhouse. Frank's face was beaming, Randy looked his delight and Pep uttered the words, with unction:

"It's simply great!"

Two days had made considerable difference in the situation at Seaside Park. All hands had entered with enthusiasm into the proposition of starting in on the new deal, with the certainty in view of sufficient capital to finance them for at least two months ahead. The chums spent so many delightful hours figuring, planning, and mapping out details that Randy got to talking in his sleep, and Pep aroused all hands by screaming out in the midst of a nightmare in which he had started a photo playhouse in China, and the natives had mobbed him when a film showed one of their favorite mandarins being carried away in an airship.

It was Jolly, however-bustling, practical Ben Jolly-who had won the laurels on the present occasion. When the vacant store had been used, at the rear was a temporary kitchen. This was a frail structure set on stilts, but roomy and just the thing for summer occupancy. Jolly was a natural born trader. It seemed that he found some difficulty in disposing of the old horse and wagon for cash. Finally, however, he came across a dealer in second hand furniture. Jolly had got the idea in his head of cutting down living expenses and utilizing the old kitchen tacked on to the store building.

The chums were down at the hotel that afternoon and Jolly planned a grand surprise for them. It was now, upon their arrival at the playhouse building, that the pleasure and praise of the motion picture chums hailed him.

No one could have failed to approve of the wonderful transformation Jolly had made in a bare, cheerless lumber room. He had traded to good advantage. There was a substantial table, a half dozen chairs, a cupboard, a gas stove, a complete outfit of culinary utensils, dishes and table cutlery, neat curtains for the windows and drapery dividing the room in two parts, and one side section again into two compartments.

In each of these were three cots, a table and a bureau. The cots had double equipment of sheets and blankets, worn but attractive rugs covered the floor, and there were several pictures on the walls. It was no wonder that Pep Smith burst forth in his usual responsive way with the declaration:

"It's simply great!"

"When you come to think that I got all those traps and forty dollars in cash to boot for that impossible old rig of ours," observed Jolly, "you will see that I made a very interesting d.i.c.ker. What do you say, Durham; we can make a neat cut in expenses, eh?"

"Why, it makes easy the hardest part of our whole proposition," declared Frank.

"Yes, and here we can always be right on the spot," spoke Randy.

"I'm something of a cook," boasted Jolly. "I don't say I could make bread or pie, but as to common, everyday food, an occasional strawberry shortcake, or even doughnuts-well, you stock up with the supplies and I'll promise to do my best."

"It's just fine," voted Pep. "The sleeping rooms look right across to the ocean and there's a splendid sweep of air with all these openings.

It will be cool and comfortable on the very hottest nights. I'll wash all the dishes, Mr. Jolly, and set the table, and all that."

"Oh, we shall get on famously, I am sure of that," observed Frank with keen satisfaction.

The boys decided that they would at once move their traps from the hotel and make permanent headquarters at their home base. They had their first meal in their new quarters that evening.

"You have certainly given us a royal meal, Mr. Jolly," declared Frank, as beefsteak, fried potatoes, bakery biscuit, and coffee and a really creditable corn starch pudding went the rounds.

"Sorry I've got to leave you," remarked Vincent. "I'd ask nothing better than to camp right here for the rest of the season."

"Then why not do it?" inquired the ready Pep.

"Yes, if you care to take pot luck with us till we get fairly on our feet, you can certainly help us along with all your varied accomplishments, Mr. Vincent," declared Frank.

"I've got that in mind," explained Vincent, "but I must get to New York first. You see, the show I was with that broke up owes me money. I want to see if I can't get something out of the wreck and I want to call on the backers of the proposition. I'd better get to the city while I have the partnership profits Jolly has been good enough to say I have earned on that bird house speculation. If I don't it will melt away."

"I say," here put in Jolly, "why don't you and Durham go together? As it's arranged, Durham, you have got to put in a day or two arranging for what new equipment we need and the film service."

"That is true," replied Frank, "and Mr. Vincent knows so much about the motion picture business his advice and help would be of great benefit to me."

"I do know the ropes among the movies pretty well," said Vincent. "I will be more than glad to take you the rounds and see that you get the very best service and figures, Mr. Durham."

"And I am to go back to Fairlands and arrange about moving what we want of the old outfit?" inquired Jolly.

"I think that is the best arrangement, yes," a.s.sented Frank. "Randy and Pep must stay here to look after the place and receive what I may ship and what you send on. Then, before we start, the three of us must run down to Fairlands to see the folks."

Everything was settled on that basis. It would take about ten days to get the place fitted up as the boys wanted it, Mr. Morton told them. In the meantime there were many little things that needed to be done in which two handy lads like Randy and Pep might help. They and Jolly went to the train to see Frank and Vincent off the next morning. Two hours later Ben Jolly took a train in another direction, bound for Fairlands and carrying messages from the boys to their home folks and friends.

Part of the fixing up of the store room Mr. Morton had agreed to do at his own expense. There were, however, innumerable details that fell to the lot of the boys themselves. There were rolls of matting to buy for the center aisle, and the stage was to be built under Randy's supervision. They had decided to use the old name, "Wonderland," so as to utilize the ornate electric sign they had at Fairlands, and Pep was given charge of having this same name placed in a decorative way on the two front windows.

n.o.body could work with Randy and Pep without coming under the influence of their sunshiny natures. Randy was willing, accommodating and tireless when he liked a job. Pep was no laggard, either, and in addition he kept up such a lively chatter and made so many funny remarks that he had Mr.

Morton grinning half the time.

The result was that not only did the owner of the place do all that he had agreed to do, but did it just as the boys wanted. Then again when it came to things not in his contract, he supplied the material voluntarily and ended up by helping the boys at their tasks.

At the end of three days Randy and Pep prided themselves on having accomplished wonders. They had added several genuine comforts to their living quarters at the rear and had pretty well spread the news over Seaside Park that a first-cla.s.s photo playhouse was soon to be opened.

A letter came from Frank Sat.u.r.day morning. It told of his busy hours in the city and referred to Vincent as a splendid help in introducing him among the motion picture supply men. He sent on a bundle of film and song posters from which Pep could scarcely keep his hands. Frank mentioned some of the movies accessories he had purchased and told of some novel features in the way of films for which he had contracted.

"I tell you, Pep, we're in for the best or nothing this time; eh?"

questioned Randy, almost as much excited as his chums over the prospects of the new Wonderland.

"Oh, I'm 'way up in the clouds all of the time," piped Pep. "Why, I'll feel like a girl just going into society. I'm going to call it a short day and quit. There are some groceries to order, so I'll attend to that and we'll take in the beach this evening."

"Yes, we've earned a little recreation, I think," agreed Randy.

Pep started off, whistling like some happy lark. It was then five o'clock in the afternoon and he was due to return in half an hour.

Double that time pa.s.sed on, however, yet he did not appear.

"Wonder why Pep doesn't show up?" ruminated Randy. "It's time he did, as we wanted to get an early start."

At half past six Randy was nervous and a little put out. At seven o'clock he put on his cap and started to lock up to go in quest of his missing comrade.

Just as he came out on the broad planking leading from the boardwalk to the entrance to the store, a man hailed him. He was a stout, lumbering old fellow whom Randy had seen before.

"Hi!" he hailed, "you remember me; don't you?"

"Why yes," nodded Randy. "You are the man Mr. Jolly traded his rig with for our furniture."

"That's it," nodded the man. "I say, I thought I'd come and tell you. It was near my place that the accident happened."

"What accident?" challenged Randy sharply.

"Automobile-that young fellow that's joshing and jollying all the time--"

"You mean Pep-Pepperill Smith?" asked Randy.

"That's him, I remember hearing Jolly call him by that name. Well, it was him that got hurt and--"

"Hurt!" cried Randy, alarmed at the word-"When? How? Where?"

"About an hour ago, by an automobile in front of my place," was the reply.