“What new show?” inquired Vincent, quickly.
Pep told of the prospective photo playhouse that had come to their attention that day.
“Say,” exclaimed Vincent, belligerently, when the information had been accorded. “I’ll follow this up and put that fellow out of business.”
“I wouldn’t trouble, Mr. Vincent,” said Frank. “We don’t want to give Carrington and his friends any excuse for claiming we are persecuting them. If this man is the kind of fellow you describe, he will soon run himself out.”
“And them, too,” declared Jolly.
“Birds of a feather—all of them,” commented Pep.
Vincent explained that he was due to return at once to the city. He expected to have his claim against the company that had stranded him and owed him money come up in court at any time, and wanted to be on hand to present his evidence. The boys, however, prevailed upon him to accompany them home and have at least one good, old-fashioned meal with them. Then they all went with him to his train.
“Hope to see you soon again, Hal,” remarked Ben Jolly, as they shook hands good-bye.
“You will, Jolly—it’s fate,” declared Vincent. “I’m running up against your crowd all the time, and I guess it’s on the books. Bow-wow-wow!” and he winked at Pep, always alive for mischief.
“Meow!—p’st! pst!”—and a kitten in the arms of a fussy old man just getting aboard of a coach arched its back at the well-counterfeited imitation of the ventriloquist, while its mistress ran up the steps in a violent flurry.