“There’s some song posters to put up—they are due in the morning mail,” observed Randy.
“Yes, and if that new film winder is sent along we might install it in place of the old one we brought from Fairlands,” suggested Jolly. “I suppose you want to go through a test before night, Durham?”
“So as to give you the music cues? I think we had better,” assented Frank. “Besides, we had better see that the films run smooth.”
“I sent for a piano-tuning key to the city Saturday,” said Jolly. “As soon as I get it I will give the instrument a little overhauling. Jolting over one hundred miles in a freight car doesn’t improve the tone any.”
Randy and Pep went out together about ten o’clock to get some posters from the printers. Frank had brought from the city quite a lot of gaily colored sheets with a blank space left at the top. Here the name and location of the new playhouse had been inserted. It took the boys until noon to get these placed. They posted them in nearly all the stores along the boardwalk. The hotel they had stayed at let them put two in the lobby, and they covered the town in a way satisfactory to themselves.
“Wonder what the National people are thinking of doing?” submitted Randy, as they sat down to dinner.
“They are going to open to-night—that’s one thing I know,” reported Pep.
“They’re not making much stir about it, then,” observed Jolly. “I haven’t heard anybody speak about it, whom I ran across to-day.”
“I met the man who is doing their electrical work,” said Pep. “He and I are quite chummy. He told me they were in a fearful mix-up, with things half provided for, but that they would surely open this evening.”
“What’s it to be—a nickel?” inquired Jolly.