“What do you mean?” demanded Pep.
“Complimentaries, and all that.”
“I don’t think we are going to have any complimentaries,” replied Pep. “Our space will be for sale; not to give away. That fellow run a photo playhouse!” snorted Pep wrath fully to himself, as he left the spot. “Why, he hasn’t got the gumption to run a peddler’s cart, or a shoestring stand!”
Pep reached the freight house just as his friends were leaving it. They had arranged for the reception and delivery of their traps from Fairlands to the new playhouse. This meant busy times, getting in order to open up for business. Pep told of his new discoveries as to the personnel of the rival firm of the “Natonal.” Randy flared up at once.
“It’s half spite work,” he declared. “This Peter is mad because we wouldn’t take him into our scheme and Greg Grayson owes us a grudge, or fancies he does, and wants to pay it back. He and his cronies were always ready for any mean mischief back at Fairlands.”
“Oh, well, as long as it is fair business rivalry, who cares?” submitted Jolly. “From the start they’ve made I don’t think they will last long.”
“They will do all they can to annoy us while they do,” declared Pep.
“Did you tell young Carrington about the missing letter in the ‘Natonal’ sign, Pep?” inquired Frank.
“No, I didn’t,” replied Pep, ungraciously. “Think I’m around mending his blunders? Humph! guess not. If I had, do you know what he would have said?”
“No; what, Pep?” pressed Randy, with a broad grin.