The moving pictures were shown in a large tent. It was not as large as it looked, for it was set over another tent, and in this darkened inner place were the seats for the people who came to see the pictures. If you think it is hard to find your way down the aisles of a dark theater—especially if you are staring at the screen as you walk, so as not to miss any of the picture being shown—you ought to try to find your way into a tent as the Riddle Club members and their mothers did that afternoon.
The chairs were fastened together in rows of six, and if the people in them happened to be excitable when something happened on the screen they were apt to jerk or twist about in their seats and in time this moved the rows closer together or sent them sideways. As a result, some of the rows were closed, some were open, a few were bunched so closely together that it was impossible to walk between them, and at least one row was completely overturned.
Margy and Polly made this discovery in a rather painful manner by falling over the chairs.
"Ow—oh!" wailed Margy, in the darkness. "What was that?"
"Sh!" Polly warned her, trying not to laugh. "We walked into something. Come on."
Jess grabbed Margy and dragged her along in the darkness until Fred managed to find them an unoccupied row of seats into which they filed. He had not counted enough, and he and Artie found themselves "left over," as Ward expressed it.
"We'll go further down," Fred whispered.
"Wait for us at the door, will you, when you go out?"
The others promised him to wait, and Fred and Artie went down the aisle, trying to find two more vacant seats.
"There's two," Artie said, in a shrill whisper, and darted ahead of Fred.