“Slavin,” observed Randy, with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Yes, our old friend of Riverside Grove, sure enough,” responded Pep. “And he saw us, too.”
Pep followed the former rival of the Airdrome with his eyes. He noticed Slavin approach an usher and give him some orders as to seating the people as they came in. Then Slavin went over to a man lounging near the back row of seats. Slavin looked at Pep and his friends, and the man with him followed his example. In a minute the man started down the center aisle.
“Say, fellows,” whispered Pep, hastily, “I’ll wager the suppers that Slavin has set a spy on us, who is coming to take a seat directly behind.”
“Why, what for?” inquired Vic, in a wondering way.
“To listen to what we say about the show, and probably hoping we’ll let out some points about the Standard that Slavin would like to know. S—st, now!”
Pep’s surmise was correct. The man he had noticed Slavin talking to—evidently some hanger-on of the place—took a seat in the row directly behind them. Pep gave Randy a wink.
“Say,” he said, in a voice he did not try to restrain, “I’ve had enough training in the movies line to see that these people here are going to have a visit soon from the city building department.”
“How’s that?” inquired Randy with affected artlessness.
“Look at the exits—none on the sides and just one at the rear, and not even a red light set.”