“Say, Frank,” remarked Pep, as they left the Standard, “I hope we’re not going to miss ‘the great film.’”
“Oh, I don’t think that will be ready until next week. That reminds me, too: I must send Randy with a message right away to Mr. Randall. He hasn’t been feeling very well for a day or two. I don’t want to have him think we are neglecting him, but we have been so busy yesterday and to-day that neither Professor Barrington nor myself could find time to visit him.”
Mr. Randall was the man who had been sent out on the big film expedition. Pep and Randy had seen him only once, and he had impressed them greatly. He had received a joyous greeting from the professor when he arrived, and had at once been placed in possession of a little studio about a mile from the playhouse. The location was retired and pains had been taken to keep it secret.
Mr. Randall had come back from his wonderful expedition a good deal of a wreck. One ear had been bitten off by some beast of prey, the other had been frozen and a part of it was missing.
The scarred and battered adventurer was now working on the development of the negatives of the great film and had been given a full studio equipment to perfect this.
Meantime, the Standard had whetted public curiosity and interest by putting out in the daily prints little hints as to the coming great film. They had also announced this grand feature on the screen at the Standard.
“I suppose Slavin and his crowd are just worrying themselves to death guessing what the great film really is,” Randy had remarked.
Frank had decided it the best policy to leave the New Idea crowd entirely alone. He did not even strive to find out how they were succeeding with their new enterprise. The bustling Pep, however, was an inquisitive news gatherer. He had reported only the evening before.
“Slavin had no crowd at all the second night.”
“And the third?” Randy had asked.