“Say, Mr. Durham, I’ve been at the New Idea for the last three hours.”
“Have you, indeed?” responded Frank, discerning something under the surface in the declaration just made. “I didn’t know they were open for business yet.”
“Oh, they’re not,” answered Vic. “I’ve been working there.”
“Working there?” exclaimed Pep, jumping from his chair in wonder. “You don’t mean to tell us you’ve gone in with those fellows; do you?”
“Yes, for one appearance only,” replied Vic, with his odd smile. “I knew what I was about. I sort of hung around the New Idea with a ‘new idea’ in my head. A lot of chairs were delivered from some wagons while I was snooping around. Some fellow connected with the show came out, saw me and asked me if I wanted to earn a little helping carry in the chairs. That was my chance.”
“For what?” inquired Frank.
“To get inside and see the lay of the land,” declared Vic, with a slight twinkle in his eyes as he noted Frank’s interest.
“Say, how does it look?” asked Pep.
“It looks too bulky, if you must know. There’s no grace to it, nor elegance, nor taste, nor style. It’s clumsy. That big sprawling room was never meant for a movies show. Why, I helped set some of the chairs, and, honest, at the ends of the twenty-seat rows it makes you cross-eyed to get in focus with the stage. But I got what I was after, finally.”
“What were you after?” inquired Randy.