CHAPTER VII
AT THE FAIR
"No good, eh?" exclaimed the suspected man in a voice that made Frank fear at least part of the conversation had been overheard. "No good!" and the man looked fiercely from his little blood-shot eyes.
"We—er—that is, my friend and I were discussing——" began Mr. Bullard, and Frank was wondering whether his new friend would dare to admit the truth.
"I know what you are discussing!" exclaimed Royston, with an air of fierceness. "You don't need to tell me!"
"We certainly are in for a row!" thought Frank. "And if I'm any judge of this man, by past performances, he'll come to a personal encounter."
Frank glanced at the government agent, and was glad to note that, in spite of his rather small size, and notwithstanding that he was of a quiet nature, he looked fully capable of taking care of himself. As for Royston, while big and burly, he seemed to be "short-winded," an almost fatal defect when it comes to athletic matters.
"Yes, indeed, I know what you were talking about!" exclaimed the suspect, and his voice was harsh. "It's the dining service on this train! It's the worst I ever struck, and I've gone back and forth across the continent a number of times. But this is the worst ever! I don't blame you for saying he's no good—the man in charge. I've told him so myself, and I'll tell him so again! I'm glad you agree with me!"
Both Frank and Mr. Bullard could not refrain from giving each other glances of relief. It was so different from what they feared. Royston had heard part of their talk, but he had assumed it to be in line with his own thoughts, and it was just as well. It had been a lucky escape for Frank and his new friend.
"Bah! Never saw such meals! Never!" went on Royston, making a wry face. "It's a shame and disgrace to the railway interests of the United States. If I wasn't in such a hurry I'd take another line, though that might be as bad. I'm anxious to get to 'Frisco. I understand you are interested in motion pictures," he went on to Frank, and all trace of annoyance seemed to have vanished from his manner. In fact, he was friendly, or he had the appearance of so being. If he held any hard feelings against Frank for the encounter in the bank, they were forgotten, or laid aside, for the time being.
"Yes, I am interested in motion pictures," admitted the young man.
"I'm in somewhat the same line, only on a bigger scale," boasted the red-faced man, and Frank could not help thinking how much he looked like an important turkey gobbler, from the manner in which he puffed himself out.
"I hear you have a number of theatres," went on Royston, "and it may be that I can throw some business in your way—trade that is too small for me to bother with," he added with an important air.
Frank was wondering where the man had heard about him and his business affairs. The young man rather resented the manner in which the other behaved toward him.
"However, we'll discuss that later," went on Royston, as though the whole matter was in his hands. "I'm going to think of other affairs now. Perhaps you gentlemen will join me in a cigar," he added, holding out a case filled with dark Havanas, and waving his hand toward the smoking compartment.
"I don't use them," said Frank, with as friendly a smile as he could muster, "but don't let me keep you," he added to Mr. Bullard.
"Yes, I don't mind having a smoke," agreed the government man, with a look at Frank which the latter well understood.
"I'll go and join my friends," Frank said, and he started back to his coach, leaving the two men together.
"That was a lucky escape," murmured the young man to himself as he passed out of sight. "I thought sure he had heard us talking about him. Well, this may give Mr. Bullard the very chance he wants to get a line on this fellow. I don't like his being so friendly, though. I wonder who has been talking about our business?"
Frank learned, a little later, when he went back to his friends.
"That red-faced, colliding man of yours was here a while ago," volunteered Pep.
"Oh, you mean Royston?" said Frank.
"Yes, and say, I guess I put a flea in his ear all right," and the quick-tempered youth chuckled.
"A flea in his ear?" questioned Frank.
"Yes. He was doing a lot of talking about motion pictures, saying what a back number they were becoming, and how other amusement things were crowding them off the boards. I guess he didn't know we were in that line, but he soon found out."
"Then you told him?" asked Frank, now guessing where Royston had received his information.
"Of course I told him!" exclaimed Pep. "I let him know what a business we had built up in motion pictures, and that it wasn't a back number by any means. I said you were one of the best-informed fellows in the country on the subject, and when I let him know how many places we had in operation he rather opened his eyes."
"Oh, so you told him all that?" asked Frank, quietly.
"Sure!" exclaimed Pep. "Why, wasn't it all right?" he asked, for something in Frank's voice made his chum glance up quickly.
"Oh, well, yes, I suppose so," was the reply. "He'd have found out, sooner or later, anyhow."
"Say now! Look here!" cried Pep. "I haven't gone and put my foot in it; have I?"
"Oh, no, indeed," Frank hastened to assure him. "It's all right. Only I was wondering where Royston got his information."
"Didn't you want him to have it?" Pep's voice was anxious now, for he and Randy depended a great deal on their older chum.
"Really it doesn't make a bit of difference," Frank said, earnestly, and he realized that he must convince Pep of this, or there might ensue complications he could not foresee. He did not want his chums to know too much, just yet, about the character of Royston. It might spoil Mr. Bullard's chances.
"Oh, I was afraid I had done something wrong," said Pep, with an air of relief. "But this fellow—Royston, you say his name is—he was quite interested. He's going out to the Zone, too."
"I hope you didn't tell him we were looking for a concession there!" exclaimed Frank, and this time there was genuine alarm in his tones.
"No, indeed, I didn't; did I, Randy?" appealed Pep.
"No, we fought shy of that, though I think he tried to get information out of us," spoke the other chum.
"Oh, I'm foxy enough for that," went on Pep, with a laugh. "I haven't forgotten the airdrome business."
He referred to an incident that occurred some time previous, when they had planned to open a certain moving picture place, and Pep, in his inexperience, had boasted of their proposed plans. The result was that some rivals heard of it, and, as they had not clinched the bargain, the place was rented to their rivals over their heads, causing them considerable trouble. Pep was to blame for that, and it taught him a lesson.
"Don't talk of our plans," cautioned Frank. "What Royston doesn't know about us won't harm him, or us. He knows we are interested in motion pictures, and that we are going to San Francisco. He may guess that we want to open at the fair, but let it be only a guess. Steer clear of him if he tries to get any more information out of you."
"Do you think he will?" asked Randy.
"There's no telling," Frank replied.
During the remainder of the railroad trip the boys saw comparatively little of Royston. Between him and Mr. Bullard there seemed to have sprung up a sort of friendship, which, Frank assumed, was, on the part of the government man, at least, maintained for purposes of his own. But Frank was only too glad that Royston did not try to get information from himself and his chums.
The trip across the continent was without incident worth chronicling save that they were somewhat delayed by a freight wreck. But finally their train pulled into Oakland which is just across the bay from the wonderful city of San Francisco. To reach the latter place it is necessary to take a ferry, and this our friends proceeded to do.
"Look me up, boys. I'll be at this hotel," and Royston with his blustering manner, intended for hearty good-nature, thrust into Frank's hand a card with the name of a certain "sporty" hotel on it. "I'll see you later," Royston called to Mr. Bullard, who had walked with the boys, leaving the suspected man to look after his baggage.
"Yes, I think you will see me later," murmured the Secret Service agent.
It was early morning when the train arrived in Oakland, and waiting only to get a light breakfast and to see that their baggage would be safely transported after them, the boys, saying goodbye to Mr. Bullard, and promising to look him up later, went down to the ferry. They looked with interest at the various sights, new to them, glancing at Goat Island, as they passed it and headed for the ferry slip, near the dock of the Southern Pacific Railway.
A little later they were out on busy Market Street, with the hum and roar of a great city all about them. But they were used to New York, and it did not seem at all strange to them. Only the climate was different.
"Well, what's the game, Frank?" asked Pep, as they stood looking about.
"Get to a hotel, and then start for the fair grounds," was the answer. "We can't arrange about space any too soon."
"That's what I say!" exclaimed Hank. "We don't want to get left."
"And you won't forget about the organ; will you?" asked Ben Jolly.
"No, indeed," promised Frank. "You shall have that, Ben."
The boys had the address of a small hotel hear Lafayette Square which they thought would suit their needs. And it would not be far from the exposition grounds. There was a street car line which went down Fillmore Street, directly into the Zone concessions, where they hoped to establish themselves.
And soon after registering at the hotel and sending for their luggage, the boys took a car for the fair grounds. They were filled with wonder when they reached them, even though the place was not yet open, nor finished. And as they saw so many objects of interest, and as their sensations were so varied, I think I can do no better than to begin a new chapter with them.