CHAPTER IV
A HURRIED DEPARTURE
"Mr. Strapp, you'll have to explain," spoke Frank, slowly, as he looked at the former ranchman. "It isn't like you to say something like that, and then let us guess at your meaning."
"And I'm not going to this time, either," declared the Westerner. "That isn't Hank Strapp's way. I'm going to explain."
But he seemed in no hurry to do this. He carefully unfolded the newspaper he had taken from his pocket, and began leisurely to look over the printed pages as if in search of some item. He was so deliberate about it that Pep, with his usual impetuosity, exclaimed:
"Say, we couldn't get up a motion picture of you making an explanation, no matter how we tried!"
"Is that so, son? Why not?" asked the man from Montana, drawlingly.
"Because you don't move fast enough, that's the reason," said Pep, quickly. "Come on, let's hear why we can't go to the Panama Exposition, and open a motion picture place in the Zone, as Frank plans."
"Because it's too late," declared Strapp. "Here's a piece in the paper that tells about it. I thought I should find it. It says that the Zone has proved so popular as an amusement place that all the concessions have been snapped up. There's everything out there from an old time Forty-niner's gold camp, to an upside down pendulum that lifts you up nearly 270 feet, and from toy towns to a giants' cave. But every concession is gone, this article says, and that's why it's too late for us to think of opening a motion picture theatre there."
For a moment there was silence in the office of the Empire. Then Frank said:
"Let's see that article, Mr. Strapp. Maybe it isn't as bad as you make out."
"Oh, I'm not trying to make it out bad," was the answer. "I'm as anxious to go out West as you fellows are; more so, in fact, for I sure would like to get astride of a pony once more, and feel the wind in my face. But I don't want you to go out there and be plumb disappointed. That's why I'm speaking against it."
Frank was busy reading the article in question. As he perused it his face brightened, and finally he exclaimed:
"Say, this may be all right, after all! It doesn't say with any official authority that all the concessions are taken up."
"What do you mean—any authority?" asked Randy.
"I mean this doesn't come from anyone in authority at the fair. It's just written by some reporter, who probably guessed at his facts. I'm not going to be hindered by this."
"You're not?" cried Strapp. "Do you mean to say you're going to move this outfit—and all of us—out to the Panama Fair, when it says in the paper we can't get space?"
"Well, I'll make some inquiries first, of course," answered Frank, with a smile, "but I'm not going to back out because of this," and he tapped the folded paper.
"Well, you've got me beat!" Hank Strapp had a great respect for printed matter. For a long time he had accepted as true everything he saw in the papers, until the boys had laughed it out of him, to a great extent. But he still had some of his faith.
"If this came as a statement from the fair managers I'd take more stock in it," said Frank. "As it is—it's only a rumor."
"Well, maybe you're right," agreed Hank slowly. "But if I were you I wouldn't lose any time. There must be a good call for space in the Zone, or such articles as this wouldn't be printed."
"I agree with you," spoke Frank. "And we've got to hurry out there and clinch matters. I really didn't think there was such need for haste; but I believe it now. We'll get out to San Francisco as soon as we can, and see about fitting up a theatre there. I'm sure it will be a money-maker."
"But can we draw the crowds with so many other things going on?" asked Randy, who was inclined to be cautious.
"Of course we can!" declared Pep. "Didn't we draw 'em in the hot summer, when there was bathing and other attractions along the board-walk? Of course we did. And that Zone will be open day and night, and for a long time. Of course we'll make money!"
"It will draw better if we have the right kind of an organ," put in Ben Jolly, who had another "resting spell." Then he went on: "There's a new kind, with special stops, and——"
"Oh, we'll have the organ, all right," declared Frank; "that is, if we have anything at all. And now I'll tell you what I'm going to do, if you all agree with me," he went on. "I'll just telegraph out to the Zone management, and see what space they have left, telling them what we want. Then we can decide what to do."
"Good idea!" cried Pep. "And prepay the reply, so we won't be held-up, waiting."
"I'll do that," agreed Frank. "And now we have a lot to do if we are to go to the big fair."
Indeed there was plenty of work ahead, if they could carry out their latest plans, and, in order that the chances might be good for doing this, Frank's first care was to send off the telegram.
Then, while waiting for an answer, he had to look after some details connected with the various other motion picture playhouses they operated. The chums were also busy with several matters.
Each day there came, by mail, to the Empire office, a statement of the previous day's business at each of the resorts. The receipts and expenditures were given in detail, and Frank also insisted on a report as to how the various reels were enjoyed by the patrons.
In this way he learned what "took," and what was not acceptable, and this governed him and his friends in their selections. Most of the reports had been gone over that morning before Frank broached his new plan, and before the various encounters in going to the bank. Now it remained to consider them.
So, after the telegram had been sent, and while the afternoon performance was well under way in the Empire, the three chums and Strapp considered matters connected with the two Wonderlands, the Boston place and the Airdrome, which had not yet closed for the season.
"The Boston place is doing better than I expected," said Frank, as he glanced at the report. "The crowds are taking better to strictly amusement films than we hoped. We can't always be running educational reels, you know."
"I should say not!" cried Hank. "Why don't you try them on a few Western dramas—cow-punching and the like?"
"It's a little too soon for that," remarked Frank. "I'll go a bit slow. But we've got to do something for the Airdrome. The attendance there is falling off."
"Send Hal Vincent up," suggested Randy. "He can put on that new ventriloquist act of his. That's always popular."
"I think we'll do that," agreed Frank.
"And try the scheme of giving a box of candy to the lucky ticket holder," advised Pep. "That's always a drawing card. All the admission tickets are numbered, you know. We can get them in duplicate just as well, the person to hold one end, and the other to go in a hat. At the end of the performance someone draws out one of the duplicate stubs, and whoever has the same numbered ticket gets the box of candy."
"Good idea!" decided Frank. "It's been done before, but it's always good. Write and tell 'em to do that up there, Randy," he went on, for Randy had been acting as secretary of late.
Then other matters connected with the business were considered, letters were written, new films were ordered, advertising schemes were talked over until, finally, it was six o'clock, and the chums left the Empire to go to dinner.
"No answer yet?" asked Pep of Frank, when they had come back to the theatre, for they made it a point on Saturday nights, when in New York, to see, personally, to the putting away of the day's receipts, which were generally heavy.
"Nothing from San Francisco yet," answered Frank. "But give 'em time. They're probably pretty busy out there."
It was nearly closing time for the Empire when a messenger came shuffling up to the office with the looked-for telegram. Frank, Pep and Randy were together, Ben Jolly being engaged at the organ, and Hank Strapp reckoning up accounts with the ticket seller.
"I hope it's good news," murmured Randy.
"It's got to be!" declared Pep, impulsively.
Frank tore open the envelope.
"'Some space left,'" he read. "'Would advise haste in making a selection.'"
"Humph!" murmured Frank, as he passed the yellow slip over to Pep. "He didn't waste any words. Well, it's encouraging, to say the least. Now, fellows, it's up to you. What shall we do?"
"Go, of course!" was Pep's quick answer.
"I think we could make a success of it," spoke Randy, more quietly.
"It will mean that we'll have to go out there right away," said Frank. "We've got to act quickly."
"The quicker, the better!" was Pep's comment. "Things are in shape here so we can leave; aren't they?"
"Oh, yes," Frank answered. When, a little later, the Empire had closed until Monday morning, there was a gathering of the chums and their two friends, Ben Jolly and Hank Strapp, and the decision was reached that they should at once start for San Francisco.
"Monday night will see us on our way," declared Frank, at the conclusion of the conference. "We can close up all matters here by that time."
"Can't we reserve space in the Zone by wire?" asked Pep.
"I suppose we might," said Frank, "but it would be rather risky. I'd rather see what we're getting. Sometimes being on the wrong side of a street will spoil the success of a motion picture place. And if we reserved a place by telegraph we'd have to accept it. No, I think we'll have time enough after we get out there. It will only take five days if we have good luck."
Monday was a busy time for the motion picture chums. They had to turn over the management of the New York theatre to others, though this was comparatively easy, as it had been done before. Then financial matters had to be arranged, for they would need to take a considerable sum to San Francisco with them.
Frank went to the bank to transact some business.
"Well, you didn't meet your friend; did you?" asked the teller to whom he stopped to speak before leaving.
"What friend?" asked Frank, his mind busy with other matters.
"I mean the one who collided with you Saturday."
"No, he doesn't seem to be on hand to-day," was the reply. "And say, he wasn't the only freak I ran into that day."
"No?" asked the teller, with interest.
"I pulled a man from in front of an auto out in front of the bank shortly afterward," said the youth, as he narrated his experience with the oddly-dressed man.
"Well, you sure had your hands full," observed the teller.
Finally matters were in such shape that the motion picture chums could prepare to leave for San Francisco on the midnight train. That there was need of haste in picking out a place in the Zone was borne out by articles in that day's papers, telling how near the Panama Exposition was to opening, and what a wonderful place the amusement section would be.
Trunks and valises had been hurriedly packed, tickets purchased and Ben Jolly had played his last improvisation on the Empire piano—at least his last in some time, he hoped.
"I'll be fingering that big organ next, I hope," he said.
Frank had made tentative plans for reserving options on some exclusive films he expected to show at the fair, if he could get space. The other chums had done their share in arranging for the hurried departure, and Hank Strapp as usual gave valuable assistance.
"And now we're off!" cried Pep, as they went toward the sleeping-car which was to be their home for several days in the rush across the country.
"Yes, we're off," said Frank.
It was almost time for the train to leave, when looking out of his window Frank saw a portly, red-faced man hurrying along, two porters carrying his valises.
"If I don't get the best berth in the car you fellows won't get a cent out of me!" the man exclaimed in surly tones. "Why don't you get a move on! You walk as though you were stepping in molasses!"
"Yais, sah!" murmured one of the men, deferentially.
At that moment the train started to pull out, and one porter, giving his valises to his companion, seized the passenger by the shoulders and began pushing him forward on the run.