“Let Frank go ahead with his story, Mr. Strapp!” cried Pep, who was a privileged character, his constant willingness to help out making full amends for his sometimes boisterous manner. “We’d have been good and sorry if we had missed running the Airdrome; wouldn’t we, now?”
“Well, it has doubled the value of our investment, that’s sure,” admitted Mr. Strapp, with great satisfaction.
“Then how do you know but what Frank now has a proposition up his sleeve that is twice as good? He’s always looking for new ideas. What’s the last one, Frank?”
“Well,” explained the latter, “to tell it in a word: What do you say to opening a photo playhouse that shall be devoted exclusively to educational films?”
Each of Frank’s auditors received this declaration in a characteristic way. Pep came to his feet with a bound and seemed to be ready to voice his opinion in his usual tumultuous fashion. Randy’s eyes snapped as his vivid imagination seized upon the new thought. The impulsive ex-ranchman, Mr. Strapp, brought his bronzed hand down upon his knee emphatically with the words:
“Durham, I believe you’ve struck a big thing! It catches my fancy. There’s one first point we’ve got to look to, though: Can it be made to pay?”
“I feel sure that it can,” replied Frank, “in the right place.”
“And where is that,” inquired the impetuous Pep.
“Boston,” was the reply. “Boston is the home of culture. Anything high up in the entertainment line is encouraged there. I first thought of the plan a week ago. Yesterday, quite by accident, I ran across a gentleman who crystallized my vague ideas.”
“How was that, Durham?” asked the interested Westerner.