“Yes, and it keeps up from almost daybreak clear up to midnight,” declared Randy. “Why, Frank, we could run three shifts four hours each. Just think of it—twelve shows a day. Say, it would be a gold mine!”
“I agree with you that it looks very promising,” decided Frank. “We must do some close figuring, fellows.”
“Let’s go inside and look the building over again,” suggested Pep, and this they did.
“Why, hello!” instantly exclaimed the owner. “Back again?”
“Yes, Mr. Morton,” replied Frank, pleasantly.
“Shake!” cried the old fellow, dropping a hammer he held and in turn grasping a hand of each of his juvenile visitors. “You’re some pluck, the three of you. That was the neatest round-up I ever saw. What you been before? Life saving service?”
“Why, hardly——” began Frank.
“Well, you got those people off that burning motor boat slicker than I ever saw it done before. Look here, lads, business is business, and I have to hustle too hard for the dollars to take any risks, but I like the way you do things, and if I can help you figure out how you may take a lease on the premises here and make something out of the old barracks, I’m going to favor you.”
“We shall decide this evening, Mr. Morton,” said Frank.
“Well, you’ve got an option on the place till you are ready to report, no matter who comes along.”