TALKING IT OVER
The motion picture chums could not conceal the disappointment they felt
on hearing the words of the director. They had realized they might not
be in time to get a place that would exactly suit them, but they had no
idea they could get no place at all. It was a stunning blow.
"Well," spoke Frank, with a long-drawn sigh, "that's too bad! Nothing
at all?"
"Nothing at all," repeated the director, slowly, as he leafed over some
papers on his desk to make sure he had overlooked nothing.
"What about an open air place?" asked Mr. Strapp, still undaunted.
"We've got a great climate out West here, boys, believe me! We wouldn't
have to close up many times on account of rain; we sure wouldn't!"
Frank looked hopefully at the director. He personally did not favor an
airdrome for the fair, but it might be better than nothing.
The director shook his head.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but we can't allot you any open air space
either. Besides, with the many search, and other lights flashing about
nights, you couldn't do much business. And you couldn't afford to run
just at night, concession prices are too high. You're got to give a
continuous performance."
"That's what I figured," Frank said. "But if we can't get a place here
we can't--that's all there is about it."
"Is anyone who has a concession now likely to give it up?" asked Randy.
"That sometimes happens; doesn't it?"
"Well, it isn't likely to here," the director replied. "You see,
everyone is sure to make money, and, so far, we haven't had any
withdrawals, though of course there may be some later. If you like to
wait, on that chance----"
"Hardly!" cried Pep impetuously. "We can't afford to do that. We have
an option on some big films, and we've got to be sure we can show them.
If we can't do it here, we'll have to look for some other place."
"It will be hard to find," the director went on.
"But we've just _got_ to!" declared Pep, as though he could make a
place where none existed.
"Then I guess I don't get that new organ to add to my effects," spoke
Ben Jolly, in such a doleful voice that the others laughed.
"Are you an organist?" asked the director, quickly.
"A fair one," admitted Ben, modestly.
"We have an opening for a good organist," the manager of the Zone went
on. "If you would like to take that, perhaps----"
"Is it in a moving picture place?" asked Ben, hopefully.
"No, it's in one of the educational exhibits."
"I wouldn't leave my friends," said Ben, loyally. "I guess I'll have to
wait; that's all there is to it."
There seemed nothing more to do or say. With all their speed our
friends had arrived too late to secure that most needed concession.
Without it they could do nothing.
"Can't we buy someone out?" suggested Pep, eagerly. "We might try
that--offer 'em more than they paid."
"You'd have trouble doing that," said the director, with a smile. "Of
course if you offered enough someone would sell out, undoubtedly. But
prices are so high now, just before the opening of the fair, that they
would be prohibitory. That is, values are regarded as being so high
that you would probably eat up a good share of your profits in paying
someone for his concession. I wouldn't advise you to do that."
"But what can we do?" cried Pep. "We've just got to do something about
it."
Frank nodded in confirmation. But what could they do?
"Come in and see me in a day or so," suggested the director. "I may be
in a better position then to tell you something. Mind you," he said,
quickly, "I don't hold out any hope. It's too late for that, but the
unexpected sometimes happens. So come in again. I am glad to have
met you, and I am sorry you were not in time. We need a good motion
picture outfit here, and I wish you had the running of it. You have had
experience; haven't you?"
"Well, I should say they had!" cried Hank Strapp, enthusiastically.
"What they don't know about running motion picture exhibitions----"
"Don't make us blush!" broke in Pep, with a laugh.
"Well, I'll take your word for it," remarked the director. "Now I'll
have to be excused, for I am very busy. But come in and see me again.
I'll do all I can for you."
Still smarting under a sense of disappointment, but not altogether
giving up hope, the chums went out of the office. They were, for the
time being, no longer interested in the wonderful sights all around
them.
"Well, what shall we do?" asked Randy, as they turned toward the
Fillmore Street entrance.
No one answered for a moment. Then Pep said:
"Well, we've just got to go on; that's all. We've practically engaged
those important films, and we stand to lose considerable if we don't
use 'em. Couldn't we open a place in town? There must be some motion
picture theatres for sale, even if they aren't in the Zone.
"Well, we could do that," agreed Frank, slowly. "But it wouldn't be at
all what I'd like to see done. We started out to show pictures at the
fair, and nothing short of that will satisfy me."
"Me either!" declared Randy.
"And I'm with you, too; believe me!" put in the Westerner. "And when
Hank Strapp, from Butte, Montana, says a thing he means it!"
The boys well knew this.
"Let's take a look around town," suggested Ben Jolly. "Maybe we can
find something that will do." But there was not much enthusiasm in his
voice, nor in the assents of the others.
"Something that will just 'do,' isn't what we want," said Frank. "The
best motion picture playhouse in the city wouldn't be half as good as
one at the fair. Besides we want these great films of ours exhibited at
the grounds."
"Well, if we can't--we can't," spoke Randy. He was more easily
discouraged than either of his chums.
"There isn't any such word as can't," declared Pep, bravely. "Frank,
it's up to us to find a way."
Frank was glad his chum looked on the matter in that light. But with
all his hopefulness, and he had not a small quantity, he did not see
how they were going to succeed.
They talked it over as they walked back to their hotel, and, as they
strolled along, for they were in no hurry, they looked about them, on
the chance of finding some solution of their perplexing problem.
San Francisco, reconstructed after the fire and earthquake, is a
wonderful city, well worth a tourist's attention. But it is doubtful if
the boys really appreciated it just then.
"We'd better send back some word to the managers of our different
places," suggested Mr. Strapp, "telling them our address here, so they
can communicate with us if they want to."
"Good idea," said Pep, as he paused in front of a motion picture house
and looked about observingly.
"Thinking of taking that one?" asked Randy.
"No, indeed," was the answer. "That isn't my style."
The place was a fourth-rate one, but outside was an advertisement of
some films the boys had used months before. They had evidently just
reached the West.
Back in their hotel our friends discussed the matter from all
standpoints, but they seemed to come back in a circle to the starting
place; which was that they did not want to have a motion picture
theatre at any place but on the fair grounds proper.
"If we want to run one in town we can just as well go back to New York,
and open another place," said Randy. "What we want is the big crowds
that will come to the exposition."
The others agreed with him. They were deep in a discussion of whether
there was any chance, and were planning what to do in case they had to
go back, when a tap sounded on their sitting-room door, for they had
connecting rooms.
"Who's there?" Randy asked.
"Bellboy," was the answer. "There's a gentleman downstairs who wants to
see you."
"Who is he?" asked Pep.
"Mr. Bullard," came in reply.
Frank looked at his chums in some alarm. Had there been new
developments in regard to Royston?