“We have certainly got some fine specials to present,” declared Frank.
“It’s the toy pictures that will catch the youngsters,” said Pep.
“And the butterflies,” supplemented Randy.
“I count greatly on the century plant,” observed Professor Barrington. “Once before it has been exploited, at the famous Gaumont Palace at Paris; but that was still life. My agent traveled one thousand miles up the Amazon to catch our film. It is perfect.”
“Wish you’d got something with hosses acting,” observed Mr. Strapp, “for they can act.”
“A little local touch—something right on the spot wouldn’t have been amiss,” suggested Jolly.
“Say, do you think that?” broke in Pep, eagerly. “I’ve thought of that, too. It was part of the scheme I once tried to tell you about, but Randy shut me up. Frank, I’d like to tell you about that.”
“All right,” answered the young movies leader, indulgently.
“Right after we came to Boston,” said Pep, “knocking around and poking into everything that had to do with playhouses, I ran across a queer fellow named Bohm, who runs a dramatic school. He can’t speak English plainly, but he’s the most patriotic fellow I ever saw. It seems his father was a soldier in the Civil War, and he was so brave they made him a major.
“Bohm flounders around in a muddy ditch of broken Dutch when he speaks, but he’s all there on patriotism, and he’s got some great ideas. He wears a red, white and blue necktie; his watch charm is a miniature American flag, and most of the time he is whistling or humming ‘The Star Spangled Banner.’”