The streets in this part of town were narrow, and crowded with trucks that were backed up at all angles to loading platforms that ran like boardwalks along the fronts of the buildings. Most of the buildings were produce markets where wholesale food merchants received the meats, vegetables, fruits, and packaged goods that fed the city. Wide protective canopies that overhung their fronts gave the loading platforms the appearance of old-fashioned porches. Other buildings were warehouses, obviously designed for storage. Their blank windowless walls and heavy steel doors made them look like ancient fortresses. Here and there, between these and the produce markets, stood the most familiar kind of New York business building, the so-called “loft,” used for light industry or, occasionally, offices. It was in front of one of these that Peggy stopped.
“Here’s our first address,” she said. “According to my list, a theater was licensed here by the original construction permit in 1892.”
Amy looked at the worn, red brick front, unconvinced. “A theater here? I can’t imagine it! Maybe this place was built later, after the original building with the theater was torn down.”
Peggy shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve gotten pretty good at architecture in the last few days, and I think I can guess the date of a New York building within a couple of years. This wasn’t built much later than 1892. It must be the original building with the theater. Let’s see if we can get any clue to it.”
The girls walked across the street in order to get a better view of the building and, as soon as they turned to look, Peggy’s eyes lighted. “Look up!” she said. “There’s a theater up there, all right!”
“How do you know?” Amy asked wonderingly.
“Look at the windows! The first five floors have windows all the same height—a normal ceiling height. But the top floor has windows that must be twenty feet high! That means that the ceiling height is over twenty feet up there. What else could it be but the theater?”
“You must be right!” Amy agreed with excitement. “What do we do now?”
“Let’s see if there’s a janitor or anyone who can tell us about it; if it’s being used, and what for. Even if someone’s using it, we might be able to rent it from him if we can pay him more than he’s paying now. Let’s go and look!”
They ran across the street and into the vestibule of the building, but when Peggy tried the door, she found it locked. A small sign on the door read O & O TRUCKING Co. And the same name was written over the bank of mailboxes. Apparently there were no other tenants in the building, and nobody seemed to be in the O & O offices.