“Hey?” goggled Peter.
“And stay out!”
“Humph!”
Peter got to a safe distance. Then he shook his fist at Pep.
“Say,” he snarled, “you’ve waked up the wrong customer. I’ve given you the chance of your life and you’ve turned me down and insulted me. I’ll show you something. Greg Grayson and I will put a spoke in the wheel of that Frank Durham and your whole precious crowd; see of we don’t!”
CHAPTER VIII—KIDNAPPED
“If I had our old piano here,” said Ben Jolly, “there’s one tune I’d play for all it’s worth.”
“What is that, Mr. Jolly?” inquired Frank Durham.
“‘Home, Sweet Home.’”
The staunch friend of the motion picture chums waved his hand like a showman proudly exhibiting wares. He had a smiling and enthusiastic audience. Everybody was smiling, even Hal Vincent, who had no particular interest in the new photo playhouse. Frank’s face was beaming, Randy looked his delight and Pep uttered the words, with unction: