“Then don’t wake me up!” begged Randy.
He and Pep stood just within the great building at the rear of the former stationery store fronting Boston Common.
How swiftly the time had passed since the day Mr. Strapp and Pep had arrived in the city in answer to the urgent wire from Frank Durham, his lively lieutenants had not realized until the present moment. The events crowded into a few weeks’ time ran through Pep’s active mind as swiftly as an unwinding film.
Frank had soon convinced his friends that he had not overestimated the value of the new location. “Right on the nail head” the impetuous Mr. Strapp had paid down a sum to bind the lease. When Frank had shown them what capital, taste and art could do, they mentally saw the old warehouse structure transformed into a veritable palace.
And to that end work had been promptly begun. The stationer moved out at the end of ten days and the front of the store building was boarded up. The motion picture chums made no public announcement of their intention. Everything was done on a carefully thought out plan.
It cost money to obtain the services of a skilled architect and builder, but the partners knew they would get good results from the investment. The outside houses of the amusement company were put on a basis of independent operation, with agents in charge. The Empire was too well-paying a proposition to drop, and it continued to be their official headquarters.
For all that, however, the main interest was centered on the new educational film project. Randy and Pep, with Ben Jolly, who had joined the main party, were in love with it. There were many initial steps to take. The details employed all hands busily and Hal Vincent was called to New York and a capable movies man substituted for him at Seaside Park. Jolly, Randy and Pep would be needed at Boston when the new photo playhouse was opened.
“It’s going to be a permanent thing, if I don’t miss my guess,” Mr. Strapp had declared. “The lads are aching to rummage around the new show. Let ’em do it, Durham, and get acquainted with it and the city generally. To my way of thinking this is going to be a high-toned sort of proposition. Let the boys get the Boston flavor—see?”
So arrangements were made for a suite of rooms at a cheaper hotel than the Parker House. Daily the new venture took on form and substance. It was delightful to see the “Standard” grow. That was the name Mr. Strapp had picked out after meditating for nearly a whole day.
“There may be a better one,” Frank told Randy; “but Mr. Strapp feels proud over his selection and we must let him have his way.”