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.