“Thank you,” bowed Frank.
“Oh, I do so hope we can make it!” exclaimed the impetuous Pep.
They were hungry enough to enjoy a hearty meal at a restaurant. Then they found themselves tired enough for a resting spell. Their room at the hotel was a lofty one, but it commanded the whole beach and afforded an unobstructed view of the sea for miles. The chums arranged their chairs so as to catch the cool breeze coming off the water, forming a half-circle about an open window.
Frank had been pretty quiet since they had last seen the vacant store, leaving Randy and Pep to do the chattering. They knew their business chum had been doing some close calculating and they eagerly awaited his first word.
“Tell you, fellows,” finally spoke their leader in an offhand but serious way, “I’ve turned and twisted about all the many corners to this big proposition before us, and it’s no trivial responsibility for amateurs like us.”
“We made good at Fairlands; didn’t we?” challenged Pep.
“That is true,” admitted Frank, “but remember our investment there wasn’t heavy; we didn’t have to go into debt, expenses were light, we were right among friends who wanted to encourage us, and we had free board at home.”
“That’s so,” murmured Randy, with a long-drawn sigh.
“If we start in here at Seaside Park,” went on Frank, “we have got to fix up right up to date or we’ll find ourselves nowhere in a very little while. There’s electric fans, expensive advertising, a big license fee, more help and the films—that’s the feature that worries me. As we learned this morning, we have got to have the latest and best in that direction.”
“But twelve shows a day, Frank,” urged Pep. “Think of it—twelve!”