“Wait!” Peggy said, holding the door open. “There is a theater upstairs! We know there is! All I want to know is what it’s used for.”
“It ain’t used for nothin’,” the janitor started angrily. Then he stopped himself, remembering his first statement. “Besides, you got the wrong place. Like I said, no theater here. Now beat it!” With an extra push, he slammed the door shut, and Peggy and Amy once more were faced with nothing more enlightening than the O & O sign.
“Why, I’ve never in my life seen such awful manners!” Amy said, almost with a stamp of her foot. “I’m going to write to that company as soon as we get home and tell them about—”
“Amy,” Peggy interrupted, “I think you’re getting excited about the wrong thing. Let’s get away from here and talk this over.”
But before leaving the district, she crossed the street once more to be sure that she was not mistaken about the building. Her second look convinced her that she had been right. Those windows could only mean a high-ceilinged room of some sort, and the license clearly stated that it had been a theater.
“Amy, there’s just one thing to do now. We’ve got to check the city records again, this time to see the plans of this building. Then, once we’re sure it’s a theater, we’ve got some thinking to do before we act.”
“But why would that janitor say there was no theater there if there is one?” Amy said.
“That’s the question,” Peggy agreed darkly. “I want to know why he said that, and I want to know what the place is being used for.”
“But, Peggy,” Amy protested, “why should we go poking into other people’s business? We already know that they’re not going to rent us this theater, and that they’re downright unpleasant people. Why don’t we just cross this one off, and go look at the others on your list?”
“Amy, you’re not thinking clearly,” Peggy said patiently. “It seems to me that the only reason anyone would have for acting the way that janitor did is that there’s something wrong going on in there—something that makes it important for them to keep people out.”