"It blew big guns last night, fellows," observed Randy Powell.
"Yes, it has been working up to a storm for several days," said Ben
Jolly, casting a weather eye through the open window in the living room.
Breakfast had just been announced by Jolly and as usual all were
hustling about to put in an appearance for the famous home-cooked meal.
"We mustn't complain if we have a day or two of showery weather, Pep,"
spoke Frank.
"It means poor shows, though," lamented Randy.
"We can stand that," replied Frank. "I think we have been more than
fortunate."
"I should say so," remarked Jolly--"six shows a day and the house a clear
average of three-fourths filled."
"How are our friends down at the National doing, Pep?" inquired Vincent.
"Oh, so, so," was the careless reply. "They get their quota from the
Midway crowd, which we don't want. My friend who works for them says
they let things go half right, quarrel among themselves, and a few
nights ago Peter Carrington had a crowd of his boy friends in a private
box smoking cigarettes while the films were running. Peter doesn't speak
to me now when we meet."
"I thought the building was coming down one time last night," spoke
Jolly. "There was damage done somewhere, for I heard a terrific crash a
little after midnight."
"There won't be many bathers to-day," said Vincent, glancing out at the
breakers on the beach.
Pep finished his breakfast and went out to the front of the building to
take a look at things. Just after he had opened the front doors his
voice rang excitedly through the playhouse.
"Frank--Randy--all of you. Come here, quick!" Then as his friends trooped
forward obedient to his call he burst out: "It's a blazing shame!"
"What is, Pep?" inquired Frank.
"Look for yourself."
"Oh, say! who did that?" shouted Randy.
He and the others stood staring in dismay at the walk, that was littered
with glass, and then at the wreck of the electric sign overhead, which
had cost them so much money and of which they had been so proud.
All that was left of it was "W--O--L--A--N--D" and woeful, indeed, the
dilapidated sign looked. Broken bulbs and jagged ends of wires trailed
over its face. Two bricks lay at the edge of the walk and the end of a
third protruded from the bottom of the sign.
Randy was nearly crying. Frank looked pretty serious. Pep's eyes were
flashing, but he maintained a grim silence as he went over to the edge
of the walk and picked up one of the bricks.
"That was your 'great guns' you heard last night," observed Pep looking
fighting mad. "Those bricks were thrown purposely to smash our sign.
Why--and who by?"
There was not one in the group who could not have voiced a justifiable
suspicion, yet all were silent.
"I think I know where that brick came from," proceeded Pep, trying to
keep calm, but really boiling over with wrath. "I'm going to find out."
Pep tarried not to discuss or explain. The others stared after him as he
marched down the boardwalk in his headstrong way. Pep had in mind a
little heap of bricks he had seen two days before. They were made of
terra cotta, red in color and one side glazed.
It was at the National that Pep came to a halt. Between the entrance and
exit some attempt at ornamenting the old building had been made. There
were two cement pillars and the space between them had been tiled. At
one side was a plaster board and a few of the bricks that had not been
used. The workman on the job had not yet tuckpointed the space he had
covered, and had left behind some of his material, a trowel and other
utilities.
Pep went over to the heap. He selected one of the bricks and matched it
to the one he carried in his hand. He was standing thus when the door of
the National opened and three persons came out. They were Peter
Carrington, Greg Grayson and Jack Beavers.
"Hello!" flared up Peter, as he caught sight of Pep, "what are you
snooping around here for?"
"I'm running down the persons who smashed our electric sign last night,
and I'm fast getting to them," replied Pep. "Carrington, you're a pretty
bad crowd, all of you, and I'm going to make you some trouble."
"What for? What about?" blustered Peter, and then he flushed up as Pep
waved the brick before him.
"That brick and two others like it smashed our sign," he declared.
"There probably isn't another lot of them in town except here."
"Well, what of it?" demanded Greg Grayson, sourly.
"I'm not talking to you," retorted Pep. "We did enough of that after
your mean tricks at Fairlands. Whoever smashed our sign did it with some
of your bricks. You needn't tell me they didn't start out with them from
here. There's plenty of stones along the beach for the casual mischief
maker. You're trying to break up our show. Soon as I get the proofs I'm
after, I'll close yours and show you up to the public for the measly
crowd you are."
"Say," flared up Peter, "this is our property and you get off of it,
or----"
"Or you'll what?" cried Pep, throwing down the bricks and advancing
doughtily.
"Easy, Carrington, easy," broke in Jack Beavers and he stepped between
the belligerents, "Don't raise a row," he pleaded with Pep. "There's
enough going on that's disagreeable without any more added." Then he
followed Pep as the latter went back to the street. "See here, I don't
want any trouble with you people," he went on in an anxious way. "So far
as I'm concerned, I give you my word of honor I don't know the first
thing about this sign business."
Pep looked at the speaker's face and was almost tempted to believe him.
"You needn't tell me!" he declared. "Those fellows are a mean lot and
they ought to be punished."
Pep returned to the Wonderland with his tale. Frank tried to quiet him,
but Pep's indignation had got the better of him.
"If you can make certain that the National crowd did this damage, we can
make them pay for it," said Frank, "but I don't want to proceed on
guesswork."
"Oh, you know as well as I do that they did it, Frank Durham!" stormed
Pep.
"I think they did, yes," acknowledged Frank, "but if we go to making any
charges we cannot prove Mrs. Carrington will hear of it, and I don't
care to offend her. Drop it, Pep. We'll have to take our medicine this
time. If it gets too flagrant, then we will go to the authorities with
it."
Pep was not fully satisfied, however. He managed to see his friend who
worked for the National a little later, and tried to enlist his
coöperation in ferreting out the vandals who had damaged the electric
sign.
The latter could not be replaced entire without sending to the city for
some of the missing letters. This, however, led to one beneficial
result. When the duplicate letters arrived some colored bulbs
accompanied them, a suggestion of Jolly. Two nights later the brilliant
sign invited and attracted attention in its new varicolored dress,
showing up as the most conspicuous illumination on the boardwalk.
The gusty, showery weather got down to a chill unpleasant spell finally.
On Thursday night the Wonderland was running, but to rather slim
audiences. There were few venturesome visitors to the beach in the
daytime and the matinee entertainments were curtailed.
That night, however, the Wonderland had never had a more enthusiastic
audience. It was comprised of an entirely new crowd--people themselves in
the entertainment business and general trade lines, who could pick only
a slack business period to seek enjoyment. They knew what a good thing
was when they saw it and their generous approbation of the flood film
and of Hal Vincent's ventriloquial acts with his dummies made up for the
lack of numbers.
"Fine thing!" said more than one.
When the second show began a good many who had gone out came back again.
A pelting rain had set in, accompanied by a tearing wind. Randy had to
keep the window of the ticket office closed as well as he could, and Pep
shut the roof ventilators.
It was in the middle of the last film that a great gust of wind shook
the building. In the midst of it the echo of the service bell of the
life saving station down the beach reached the ears of the audience.
Many began to get nervous. Just as the film closed there was a clatter
and crash and pieces of the broken skylight in the roof of the playhouse
clattered down.
There were cries and a general commotion. Many arose to their feet. The
rain began to pour in from overhead.
At that critical moment Frank closed the projector and shot on the
lights.