“S-st!” he uttered, and winked in an altogether mysterious manner at Pep Smith.
“‘S-st!’” repeated Pep, as the machine started on its way—“now what in the world does Peter Carrington mean by ‘S-st?’”
CHAPTER VII—BUSINESS BOYS
“I hope I did right, fellows,” said Frank.
“You never do any other way,” declared Randy Powell loyally.
“Exactly my sentiments,” echoed the impetuous Pep Smith. “You’ll say so, too; won’t you, Mr. Jolly?”
“I don’t have to say it,” retorted Ben Jolly quickly, “you all know I think it. You’re a man of business, Frank Durham, and a Philadelphia lawyer couldn’t have conducted this deal in a neater, squarer way.”
“Thank you,” acknowledged Frank, slightly flustered at the compliments of the coterie of friends about him.
The new photo playhouse at Seaside Park was a certainty. When the boys came down from their rooms at the hotel the morning after the visit from Mrs. Carrington and her companion, the clerk called to Frank as he was leaving the place.
“Telephone message for you last night, Mr. Durham,” he said. “It came about ten o’clock and as it was not urgent and I did not wish to disturb you, I thought I would keep it until this morning.”