“We will make a foyer and entrance of it,” declared Frank, growing enthusiastic as he painted the picture of his imagination.
“Think of it—the finest, roomiest entrance in Boston! Not a little box of a place, where people crowd and crush one another, but a beautifully tiled and decorated room. It will be dazzling with electric lights. The walls, frescoed, will be covered with pictures. There will be chairs, settees, comfort and elegance. We will have vases of real flowers set on graceful stands. Our patrons can rest, chat, fill their souls with their beautiful surroundings, waiting for the dispersing crowd to make room for them. We can make of the outside the most attractive front of any place of entertainment on Boston Common.”
Frank paused in his description as Mr. Strapp gave him a nudge. He turned quickly to observe that Professor Barrington had arisen from the couch. The old man, it seemed, had heard all that had been said. His eyes were eager, his face was flushed and his lips were parted in a delighted smile.
“Durham,” he said, “you’ve saved the day. It’s like a dream!”
“Which we are going to make come true,” cried Mr. Strapp, springing to his feet and waving his hand excitedly. “Durham, you’re a wizard, and we’re going to have the finest photo playhouse in the world!”
CHAPTER X
FIRE
“There was never anything like it in the movies!” exclaimed Randy Powell, enthusiastically.
“It can’t be beat,” echoed the excited Pep Smith. “We’re up at the top—we can’t get any higher.”
“When this playhouse is all done and the electric lights on—say, it will be a real fairyland!” continued Randy.
“And to think of the poor back country Wonderland we started with less than two years ago,” said Pep. “It’s like a dream—all of it.”