The motion picture chums' new idea

“What’s the matter, fellows?” propounded Randy, as he noticed Pep arising to his feet and, also, the evident perturbation of Vic.

Pep gave him a nudge and a look which told his quick-witted comrade that something was up. The trio crowded past the others in the seat and started for the door. Pep shot a glance backward. He caught sight of the man who had sat directly behind them and whom they had every reason to believe was a spy on their movements, staring after them in a wondering and undecided manner.

Pep led the way to the sidewalk, out of the way of passing pedestrians and possible watchers from the playhouse.

“Now then, Vic,” he challenged—“what’s new and strange?”

“That film!” gulped Vic, his face pale and his frame in a quiver of excitement.

“You mean that camel reel?” inquired Pep.

“Just that. Say, I thought I’d holler right out! That camel was mine!”

“You mean to say it is a picture of one of your stolen camels,” asked Pep.

“Sure—don’t I tell you so?” retorted Vic. “Why, I’d know him anywhere.”

“Camels are a good deal alike—” began Randy, but Vic interrupted him with the words:

“That’s so, but there’s only one marked as he is marked.”

“Marked—how do you mean?” questioned Pep, tremendously worked up now.

“On his right forefoot,” explained Vic. “Bolivar is branded there, plain as day. It’s what they call a monogram. This one is ‘G. B.,’ the initials of my uncle’s name. Bill told me about it—Bill Purvis, you know?”

“Yes,” nodded Pep assentingly.

“That’s the clew we gave the people down at Wardham who went hunting for the camels when they were stolen. It’s in the picture, too—that mark.”

“What picture?” demanded Randy.

“Oh, didn’t I ever show it to you—the one Bill gave me? Here, get nearer to the electric light—see?” and Vic drew from his pocket a fair sized card photograph.

At this both Pep and Randy gazed closely. Sure enough, as Vic had told, on the right forefoot of the leading animal pictured the mark Vic had described was clearly to be seen.

“I didn’t notice that mark on the camel in the film,” said Pep, “but of course I wasn’t looking for it. There’s something to this, Vic, sure.”

Pep was always ready to jump at a speedy conclusion, especially if something new and exciting was involved in the subject in hand. He pushed his cap back in his impulsive way, as if here was a new mystery to solve.

“It looks as if that camel in the film was yours,” said Randy. “If that’s so——”

“It is so,” declared Vic confidently. “That being true, you can see what it means. That camel is alive, and he’s being used as an actor, or a model, or whatever you call it—”

“In motion picture scenarios!” burst out Pep, seeing the light in a flash. “You’ve hit it. Just that.”

“Well, well, isn’t it strange to get a trace of the camel this way now?” cried Randy. “All you’ve got to do is to find out where these New Idea people get their films, and you’ve got the starting point to running down the whole four camels.”

“Hold on,” directed Pep at once. “Maybe that isn’t so easy. Say, there’s some thinking to do here,” and his brow wrinkled in a dreadfully wise way. He wriggled about as if his mind was acting at lightning speed. “If anybody but this especial New Idea crowd was running those films, I’d say you could get on the track of the people who made that film right away. Where that rascal Slavin has a hand in anything, though, look out, I say. Didn’t you tell me, Vic, that you heard Slavin say something about the poor stock films in the educational line?”

“Yes, I did,” assented Vic, “and that they must get some special features to keep up with the procession.”

“Then you just make up your mind that this is one of them, and I’ll bet that it doesn’t come from any of the regular exchanges,” declared Pep. “A real live camel isn’t so common. A real clever scenario man with a central feature like that could keep on getting out a whole lot of real taking stuff. Slavin would steal a whole menagerie if he had the chance. I can’t see how he might have come across your camel. Maybe he didn’t. A bad crowd did, though, of course, or they wouldn’t have stolen him. It’s just such people Slavin trains with. You can figure it out your own way,” concluded Pep sapiently, “but Slavin is clever enough to hide his evil work, if he really has any hand in this business, and you’re not going to catch him napping.”

“I think as Pep does, Vic,” put in Randy. “Some pirate movies have got hold of your camel. They’re a kind decent folks in the line won’t usually trade with. Slavin would. He must know the whole four camels are being hunted and that they might be traced down by someone interested accidentally seeing that film, so he has probably fixed it so the crowd using the camel can’t be easily traced.”

“I’ve got it!” exclaimed Pep, suddenly. “I’ve thought it all out! Say, fellows, you wait here till I come back; will you? I’ll be gone only a few minutes. Come farther away from here, too.”

“What for?” inquired Vic blankly.

“So if that spy of Slavin gets sight of us, he won’t guess what we’re plotting and suspect us and head us off.”

“What’s your idea anyway, Pep?” asked the curious Randy.

“I’ll tell you when I get back. It’s only as far as the hotel. I want to get to the New Idea in time for the second camel film.”

Pep bounded away, leaving his comrades puzzled but hopeful. He was not gone five minutes and came back with sparkling eyes.

“I’ve got it,” he said, and tapped a side pocket of his coat which bulged out considerably.

“What have you got, Pep?” asked Randy, straining his eyes to guess from the object in his pocket its identity and purpose. Pep drew into view a flat book-shaped case.

“Hello! your camera,” exclaimed Randy.

“That’s it,” nodded Pep. “I am going to take a photo of that camel film.”

“Why, say, what’s the good?” inquired Vic, “I’ve got a bigger and better picture of that camel than you can get.”

“It isn’t the camel so much I’m after,” explained Pep.

“What, then?” inquired Vic.

“His surroundings. There may be some figure, or building, or view that might give a hint as to where the picture was taken. Now, see here, you two had better go to the hotel. The three of us going back to the New Idea might excite suspicion. I’ll slip in quietly, watching out for the fellow who sat behind us there. Leave it to me to get what I’m after.”

“All right,” assented Vic, only somewhat dubiously. “The main thing, though, is to find out where the film was made. If you’ll let me, I’d hang around and run up against a couple of the boy ushers there. We worked together carrying in the chairs, you see. Maybe it’s generally known around the New Idea where the reels came from.”

“It’s not, that I know,” declared Pep.

“How do you know it, Pep?” asked Randy.

“From the fact that the name of the film maker wasn’t shown in announcing the reel. It’s an independent, in the first place—under cover, I’ll wager. Say, fellows, don’t waste my time. Let me try out my idea. There’ll be plenty to do after that to keep us thinking.”

Rather reluctantly Randy and Vic started in the direction of their hotel. Pep proceeded straight back to the Slavin playhouse. He knew a good deal about photo work and he had an excellent small camera. Once inside he waited in a rear seat until the third film ended. Then, the dispersing crowd out of the way, he selected a seat near the center aisle close to the front of the house, securing just the right focus on the stage.

Pep was so absorbed in his plans that he noticed little of those around as the first film played on the screen. When the camel film was announced. His eyes were in full use. Again he noticed that no credit was given to the maker of the film. What he was looking for was the introduction of some object, surroundings or person likely to give him a hint that could be followed down.

Pep kept the camera in his lap ready to raise, focus it and snap it at the right moment. He had kept it out of view when the lights were on. All of the time he held the camera in an unobtrusive way. He did not wish to excite suspicion or even attention.

From all that Pep could judge, the training scene in which half a dozen characters appeared had been enacted in some kind of an enclosure. He was disappointed in it. He did not like to let the slides pass by without catching the faces of the actors, which might count for something.

“There’s something!” almost aloud in his excitement Pep soliloquized.

A large box had been carried into the scene by two men. It was upside down, but Pep could make out the words, a name made by a marking brush.

“That is probably an address—maybe a shipment box to the scenario camp,” mused Pep. “It’s a good time, too, for the actors and the camel are nearly stationary.”

Pep lifted the camera even with his chest.

Click! the shutter closed back. The operation was over and Pep felt that he had accomplished something.

Just at that moment a hand shot out at his side. His neighbor, whom he had not particularly noticed, grasped him suddenly by one wrist.

“Give that up!” he ordered hoarsely, snatching out for the camera, which Pep instantly thrust behind him.