THE WONDERFUL FILMS
Frank and Pep were silent a moment. They did not know exactly what to
do or say under the circumstances, and they did not want to further
embarrass their guest. Then Albert resumed:
"You can just imagine how I felt when my uncle was taken away from me,
and put in an asylum. I had no other friend or relative, as far as I
knew, and all my money--all my uncle's money--was gone. I did not even
have enough to pay my hotel bill, for my uncle had come back from New
York practically penniless."
"It was a bad fix," murmured Frank, sympathetically.
"And I couldn't think of anything else to do except end my life," went
on Albert. "But you saved me in time."
"And we're glad of it!" cried Pep, enthusiastically. "It's never so bad
but that it might be worse."
"I don't really know whether I would have had the courage to cast
myself into the ocean or not," said Albert, slowly. "I was certainly
miserable enough to want to do it. But you came along just in time."
"We rather suspected what you were up to, or what you thought you
wanted to do," declared Pep. "Well, now, you just brace up, and we'll
see what we can do for you."
"I don't see what you can do," replied Albert, hopelessly. "I haven't a
cent of money. In fact, I left my hotel for I couldn't pay for the room
any more."
"Did you leave any of your things there?" Frank wanted to know.
"Yes, a trunk of my own and one of my uncle's. I had had two meals
after my week was up, and I left the trunks there to pay for them."
"Which it would probably do several times over," observed Pep. "We must
get them back for you the first thing."
"But I have no money!" Albert cried.
"Oh, well, we'll advance you enough for that," Frank said, cheerfully.
"But I don't want to borrow what I can't pay back."
"Well, then, we'll give you a chance to earn it, since you are such a
stickler!" laughed Pep. "We didn't tell you about ourselves, I guess.
We're in the motion picture business, and we have a number of openings
for young fellows like you. I think we can place you," and he looked at
Frank for confirmation.
"Yes, we ought to be able to find a place for you," replied the other
chum. "I wish it could be right here in San Francisco, but we, too,
have been disappointed. We expected to be able to get a place in the
Zone, but were not able."
"Oh, if you only had my uncle's place!" cried Albert. "But of course
that was lost with everything else. Poor man!"
"And you say he is in an asylum?" asked Pep.
"Yes."
"Who had him put there?"
"Some man with whom he had business dealings. This man said my uncle
was no longer mentally responsible--that his losses had turned his
brain. And it must have been so, for certainly my uncle acted like an
insane man. He was very strange, he hardly knew me. Oh, I don't know
what to do!"
"Now you leave this all to us," suggested Pep. "We will provide a place
for you----"
"But I don't want charity--I want work!" interrupted Albert.
"Well, have it your own way, then," agreed Pep, with a smile. "If
we can't open our motion picture theatre here as we planned, we can
go back to New York, and there will be a place for you there. But we
haven't given up trying here. Now the first thing to do is to get your
trunks from that other hotel--that is, unless you had rather go back
there and stay, instead of putting up with us for a while, as we have
to remain at the Cliff House for some time longer."
"Oh, I'd rather be with you," Albert answered; "that is, if you will
arrange it so I can pay you back any money you may advance me."
"We'll do that," agreed Pep. "And now let's get busy, Frank!"
"Getting busy" was something to which the motion picture chums were
very well used. In a comparatively short time they had arranged to have
Albert installed in a room near them, his trunks had been brought from
the other hotel and he was attired in a dry suit of his own, while the
wet one was sent out to be pressed.
"I surely can't thank you fellows enough," he said to the chums. "You
are more than kind to me."
"Pshaw!" cried Pep. "Maybe we'll want the same kind of treatment
ourselves, some day."
Frank and Pep did not forget what had brought them to the Cliff House.
But, try as they would, they could get no "line" on the suspected man,
Royston. They realized that they must work under cover, for once they
were looked upon with suspicion their usefulness to Mr. Bullard would
end. And if Royston was up to some underhand game he took great pains
to cover his tracks.
In fact, the day after Albert Jackson became the protege of the chums,
Royston left the hotel, whether for good or not the boys could not
learn.
When Mr. Bullard heard this he said there was no use in Frank and Pep
remaining at the Cliff House. On their part they were very anxious
to be at work on their own business matters, which had been rather
neglected of late.
"Though if we can't get a concession in the Zone, what are we to do?"
asked Hank Strapp, when the chums and their friends were together again.
Albert had been welcomed by Randy, Hank Strapp and Ben Jolly and made
to feel that he was one of the party. It developed that he could use a
typewriter, and as there were a number of letters to be written to the
managers of the different motion picture enterprises, Albert was made
a sort of secretary, under salary. He seemed to brighten up very much
after that--as soon as he was earning money.
Meanwhile the motion picture chums had paid several visits to the
manager of the Zone, but he was unable to do anything for them in the
matter of providing space.
"I did have hopes that a certain party would drop out," the manager
said, "in which case you boys would have had the next chance at his
concession. But someone connected with him has taken advantage of the
option, and is going to run a show."
"Then there isn't any chance for us?" asked Randy.
"Nothing that I can see, I am sorry to say."
"Too bad!" sighed Ben Jolly with a doleful look on his usually
good-natured countenance. "I'm afraid I'll never get my exposition pipe
organ!"
"Yes, you will!" cried Frank. "We'll open something here, anyhow!"
"Good!" exclaimed Ben. "Then I sure will be happy; for this California
climate certainly suits me."
The matter of what the boys were to do, now they were out at the big
fair, became something for serious consideration. They were under quite
a heavy expense, and while they were comparatively well-off, they were
business-like enough not to wish to waste money uselessly.
Then, one day, a letter was received from a big film agency, stating
that certain important films, which had practically been contracted
for, were ready for delivery, and the first payment was due.
"Now we are up against it!" exclaimed Randy, as the chums met for a
conference.
"Do we have to take those films?" asked Pep. "Can't we decline to
receive them? I don't mean do anything dishonest," he hastened to add,
"but can't we forfeit a certain sum, and cancel the contract?"
"Yes, we could do that, and legally, too," said Frank. "In fact, that
is provided for in the contract. But I don't want to lose the chance
to show those films. They are too wonderful, and we have the exclusive
agency out here. It would be a shame to let this chance slip."
"What are the films?" asked Albert, who was now almost one of the chums.
"Oh, I forgot, you don't know about them," spoke Frank. "Well, when we
considered getting a place at the big fair, my chums and I contracted
for some wonderful motion pictures. One series showed life under the
ocean, the views being taken in a sort of diving-bell, and the pictures
presented the floor of the ocean, big and little fish swimming around
most naturally, coral growing and great rocks. There are views of
wrecks, divers going about their work, and some wonderful scenes of a
fight with a man-eating shark. Those views alone would have netted us a
tidy sum.
"But we have others, also. The second series shows marvels of wild
animal life, in different countries. Jungle beasts are pictured coming
to the water holes to drink, and there are a number of thrilling fights
among wild animals. The two sets of films, with some others, more
ordinary, but new, would have made an exhibition that would have drawn
crowds."
"And now we can't take them," said Pep.
"I don't see how we can," agreed Frank. "We spoke of opening a motion
picture theatre in town, after we found we couldn't get space at the
fair, but I hardly think that would pay. In the first place we would
have to put up a premium on the regular price of such a place because
of the extra crowds that will be attracted by the fair. And again, no
one who had a good site would be willing to sell out. So we would lose
money instead of making it."
"Then what are we to do?" asked Randy.
"I don't know," was Frank's dejected answer.
Truly the motion picture chums were in more desperate straits than at
any time since they had gone into business together.
They were in danger not only of losing money, but their reputations
would suffer. They had contracted to take certain films, and, though
they could refuse to carry out that contract, and pay the prescribed
penalty, this would become known in motion picture circles, and the
chums would get a "black eye," from a business standpoint.
"We really can't afford to let the films go, and we can hardly afford
to take them," said Frank. "I don't know what to advise."
"I wish I could help you," said Albert. "You have done so much for me,
that I would like to return it. But I can't. If my uncle were only in
his right mind I feel sure he would help. He was such a good business
man, and promoted so many enterprises. But he is out of the race now,"
and there were tears in Albert's eyes.
"Well," spoke Frank, with a long breath, "we've got to do something,
that's sure. I think we'll----"
He was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in!" called Frank, and a messenger entered with a note.