Pep cast his eyes once more up at the ceiling five feet overhead. Then he went over to a long plank. This he lifted, dragged and tilted in an incline against the side wall just under the chute.
It was no task for a healthy, nimble boy to scale this. When Pep reached the top of the plank he elbowed his way up into the chute, keeping a safe anchor purchase on the top of the board with one toe.
Very cautiously he grasped the edge of the top of the chute and stuck his head up. The chute was located in a partitioned-off space behind the stage. Pep lifted himself out of the chute, felt a blast of fresh air, and groped his way to its source, an open window.
It was a ten foot drop to a paved court, and to find his way to the nearest street was nothing. Inside of five minutes Pep was at the hotel.
Randy and Vic greeted him with expectant faces as he burst in upon them.
“Did you get the picture?” questioned Vic eagerly.
“No—lost my camera; but I’ve found something better. Look here.”
Pep drew forth the scrap of manilla paper. In ink it bore the address of the New Idea. A red stamp across one corner read “Prepaid” and under it were the words: “Brinton, Massachusetts.”
“That’s part of the covering that enclosed the camel film,” announced Pep. “Vic, I think you’ll find your camels at or near Brinton.”