[Illustration: THE START OF A STRUGGLE BETWEEN THE MAN AND PEP BEGAN TO
ATTRACT ATTENTION
_Motion Picture Chums’ New Idea._ _Page 163_]
The
Motion Picture Chums’
New Idea
OR
The First Educational Photo Playhouse
BY
VICTOR APPLETON
AUTHOR OF “THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS’ FIRST
VENTURE,” “THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS,”
“TOM SWIFT SERIES,” ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED_
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
BOOKS BY VICTOR APPLETON
_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, per volume, 50 cents, postpaid._
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS SERIES
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS’ FIRST VENTURE
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS AT SEASIDE PARK
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS ON BROADWAY
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS’ OUTDOOR EXHIBITION
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS’ NEW IDEA
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS SERIES
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE WEST
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COAST
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN EARTHQUAKE LAND
(_Other volumes in preparation_)
THE TOM SWIFT SERIES
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT
TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP
TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT
TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT
TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE
TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER
TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE
TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS
TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE
TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD
TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDER
TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY
TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA
TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT
TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY
GROSSET & DUNLAP
_The Motion Picture Chums’ New Idea_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. SOMETHING NEW 1
II. AN ABSENT-MINDED VISITOR 10
III. THE MISSING SATCHEL 20
IV. THE RAILROAD WRECK 30
V. A NEW MYSTERY 39
VI. ON BOSTON COMMON 48
VII. RIVALS IN ACTION 57
VIII. A TRICK OF THE ENEMY 67
IX. A GLOWING PROSPECT 76
X. FIRE 84
XI. THE HERO FRIEND 93
XII. AN AMAZING STATEMENT 100
XIII. THE SHIPS OF THE DESERT 107
XIV. PLYMOUTH--DERELICT 115
XV. HIGH HOPES 123
XVI. THE LOST CAMELS 130
XVII. A GRAND SUCCESS 141
XVIII. THE “NEW IDEA” 149
XIX. DONE WITH A CLICK 155
XX. PEP A PRISONER 163
XXI. A GRAND SUCCESS 173
XXII. A FEARFUL LOSS 180
XXIII. “GETTING WARM” 188
XXIV. THE MOVIES CAMP 201
XXV. EXCELSOR!--CONCLUSION 209
THE MOTION PICTURE CHUMS’ NEW IDEA
CHAPTER I
SOMETHING NEW
“Boys, it’s a splendid idea!” cried Frank Durham.
“What is?” asked his friend and business partner, Randolph Powell.
“You look as if you had something big to tell,” chimed in Pepperill
Smith, moving his chair nearer to his two comrades. “Out with it,
Frank.”
The motion picture chums were seated in the cozy office of the Empire
photo playhouse on upper Broadway, New York City. It was “their”
playhouse, they might proudly say. Their energy, patience and genius
had made it a success. They were lively, up-to-date boys, the kind who
work as well as dream and play. They had learned business ways. The
animated yet earnest face of their leader just now showed that it was a
genuine business proposition that he was bringing to the notice of his
companions.
“Why,” returned Frank, “you know what our motto has always been--to
keep abreast of the times.”
“And a little ahead of ’em, Durham!” added a new voice, as a bustling
man of middle age entered the little office. It was Mr. Hank Strapp of
Butte, Montana, the liberal, cheery-hearted financial backer of the
boys. “It appears to me that this last venture of ours up at Riverside
Grove has about capped the climax.”
“Let Frank go ahead with his story, Mr. Strapp!” cried Pep, who was a
privileged character, his constant willingness to help out making full
amends for his sometimes boisterous manner. “We’d have been good and
sorry if we had missed running the Airdrome; wouldn’t we, now?”
“Well, it has doubled the value of our investment, that’s sure,”
admitted Mr. Strapp, with great satisfaction.
“Then how do you know but what Frank now has a proposition up his
sleeve that is twice as good? He’s always looking for new ideas. What’s
the last one, Frank?”
“Well,” explained the latter, “to tell it in a word: What do you say
to opening a photo playhouse that shall be devoted exclusively to
educational films?”
Each of Frank’s auditors received this declaration in a characteristic
way. Pep came to his feet with a bound and seemed to be ready to voice
his opinion in his usual tumultuous fashion. Randy’s eyes snapped
as his vivid imagination seized upon the new thought. The impulsive
ex-ranchman, Mr. Strapp, brought his bronzed hand down upon his knee
emphatically with the words:
“Durham, I believe you’ve struck a big thing! It catches my fancy.
There’s one first point we’ve got to look to, though: Can it be made to
pay?”
“I feel sure that it can,” replied Frank, “in the right place.”
“And where is that,” inquired the impetuous Pep.
“Boston,” was the reply. “Boston is the home of culture. Anything high
up in the entertainment line is encouraged there. I first thought of
the plan a week ago. Yesterday, quite by accident, I ran across a
gentleman who crystallized my vague ideas.”
“How was that, Durham?” asked the interested Westerner.
“It was down at the film exchange. I was waiting for the crowd to thin
out, as I had some special business with the manager, and sat down on
a bench. Right next to me was a thin, intellectual looking man whom
nobody could help but notice as entirely out of the ordinary. He was
nervous, abstracted, impatient. He took out his watch to look at the
time.
“I saw that he had opened the back case instead of the dial. I heard
him say: ‘Remarkable! Extraordinary!’ Then he began poking in all his
pockets. He made a vain search. He got up and looked all over the
bench, and knelt down and searched under it.
“‘Can I help you, sir?’ I asked.
“‘Well, yes, I’ve lost my glasses,’ he informed me.
“‘Why,’ I told him, ‘you’ve got them on.’
“‘Aha! So I have,’ he admitted. ‘Ridiculous!’
“‘And you’re looking at the wrong side of your watch,’ I added.
“‘Dear me!’ he groaned. ‘Preposterous!’”
“Say, he’d make a good character in a funny film,” chuckled the
mischief-loving Pep.
“Well,” continued Frank, “he came out of his absent-mindedness and
gathered his scattered wits. Those dreamy eyes of his pierced me like
a gimlet.
“‘Movies man?’ he asked.
“I told him yes. You ought to have seen how eager he was. He began
firing questions at me so fast I could hardly answer. They were all
about motion pictures. He was like a curious youngster hungry for
facts. We got so interested in my experience, before he got through
with me, that he found out about all we know or have down in the movies
business. Finally he jumped to his feet.
“‘See here,’ he said, grabbing my arm, ‘you are just the fellow I’ve
been looking for. You come along with me.’
“‘Where?’ I asked.
“‘To my hotel,’ he replied. ‘I’ll make you rich and famous.’ There was
no resisting him, so I went.”
“Who was he, anyway?” asked Randy.
Frank took a card from his pocket and held it so that all could read
the name inscribed upon it:
_Professor Achilles Barrington._
“And what was he after?” pressed Pep.
“Someone to exploit his ideas about a great educational film photo
playhouse,” replied Frank. “I never saw a man so enthusiastic over an
idea as he was. It seems that he had been a professor of astronomy at
Yale, or Harvard, I forget which. A rival professor set up a new theory
as to the red spots on Jupiter in opposition to his own. There was a
wordy war. Professor Barrington stood on his dignity and resigned. He
had a little money and an ardent ambition to ‘enlighten the masses,’ as
he termed it. He has mapped out a wonderful series of films for popular
exhibition. I tell you, they’re great. He wants to start the finest
photo playhouse in the world, facing Boston Common, and his plan has a
lot of good points.”
“It would seem so,” nodded Mr. Strapp, whose face showed that he was
intensely interested. “Go ahead, Durham. I’m mightily attracted by what
you are telling us.”
“The professor must have talked to me for an hour when we got to his
hotel. It appears he has been working on his pet idea for several
months. I was surprised at the way he had planned his film subjects
and sources of information and supply. He convinced me that his plans,
influence and scheme for working up business were magnificent.
“It appears he was waiting to see what encouragement the film men would
give him in his scheme when I met him. Now he is thoroughly convinced
that there never was a combination so able to put through his plans as
ourselves. He was for getting my decision at once, so that some of us
could go at once to Boston and see the location he had picked out for
the new playhouse. I told him I would have to consult with you people
and I promised he should hear from me by noon. What do you think of it,
Mr. Strapp?”
“Well, you know we have run across all kinds of dreamers in this
business,” replied the Westerner. “I’ve a great respect for college
folks, though; little education as I’ve had myself. You’re a shrewd
sort of a fellow, Durham, and don’t make many mistakes.”
“That’s right!” came with emphasis from the ever-admiring Pep.
“Thank you,” returned Frank, modestly, and with a laugh.
“Yes, sir-ree! We can trust your judgment every time, Durham,”
continued Mr. Strapp. “As to the idea you’ve spoken of, it can’t be
beat. As to the man who has worked it up, I suspect we’d all better see
him before we come to a decision.”
“I’ll bet he’s an odd genius,” commented Pep, with an expectant twinkle
in his eyes.
“He’s smart, or he couldn’t have interested Frank the way he has done,”
observed the loyal Randy.
“Well, if you leave it to me,” spoke the young motion picture manager,
“I’ll go back to his hotel, as I promised. I think I had better bring
him back here with me. It’s three hours before we start the show, so we
can have a good long talk.”
“I’ll be glad to see this professor of yours, Durham,” said Mr. Strapp.
“Hello!” broke in Pep, abruptly. “Here’s somebody.”
The door of the little office swung open as someone knocked timidly on
it.
Frank, craning his neck, discerned a man standing still and apparently
awaiting an answer to his summons. It struck Frank that the visitor
must be near-sighted, or very absent-minded, to thus mistake a wide
open door for a closed one.
“Come in,” he sang out and the caller seized the knob of the door. As
he did this, the unexpected ease with which the door swung towards him
moved him off his balance, drove him back and banged shut, quite taking
him off his feet.
“Stupendous!” gasped the caller, as he went sprawling upon the floor
headlong, his tall silk hat rolling in one direction, the goggles he
wore in another.
“Why!” cried Frank, “It’s Professor Barrington himself!”