Part 6 (1/2)
”Anything odd always catches me, so I interviewed the old man. It seemed that he had received word only that day that a relative in another part of the country had left him a farm. He wanted to realize quick and he offered me the bird house outfit and the rig all for fifty dollars. I had only thirty-eight dollars, and he took that and gave me his new address. The arrangement was that if I was lucky in getting rid of the bird houses I was to send him the balance. If I didn't he was willing to charge it up to profit and loss. He'll get that balance,” announced Jolly, with a satisfied smile.
”It looks so, judging from your sales of the last half-hour,” remarked Frank.
”What do you get for the little houses, Mr. Jolly?” inquired Randy.
”A dollar apiece. I don't sell them, though-not a bit of it,” exclaimed Ben Jolly, modestly. ”It's Hal. You ought to hear his whole repertoire-orioles, thrushes, mourning doves, nightingales, mocking birds. He infuses the neighborhood with the melody and I slide in with the practical goods. And that rig-remember the noise wagon at Fairlands, Pep Smith?”
”Do I?” cried Pep, in a gloating way-”I should say I did!”
The ”noise wagon” had been introduced in connection with the photo playhouse at Fairlands and had become a novel inst.i.tution with the inhabitants. A wagon enclosed with canvas, bearing announcements of existing and coming film features, was provided with a big ba.s.s drum, bells, huge board clappers and some horns-all operated by pedals under the driver's feet.
”You see this new rig of mine would work in on the same basis here,”
proceeded Jolly. ”If not, I can get more for the outfit than I paid for it, anyway. Now then, Durham, where can we find you this evening?”
”Why not sooner?” suggested the impetuous Pep. ”We've a great lot to tell you, Mr. Jolly.”
”And I'm anxious to hear it all,” declared Jolly, ”but we've got our stock to get rid of. Nothing like keeping at it when you've made a good beginning; and this town starts out promising-like.”
Frank now decided that he would remain over at Seaside Park for another day at least. The appearance of Ben Jolly somehow infused all hands with renewed vim and cheerfulness. The chums were glad also to meet Hal Vincent. He had done them a big favor in the past and they realized that he could be of considerable advantage to them in the future in case they located at Seaside Park.
Vincent had the reputation of being an accomplished all-around entertainer. He was an expert ventriloquist and parlor magician, liked the boys and had told Frank on the occasion of their first meeting that he would be glad to go on their programme at any time for a very moderate compensation.
Ben Jolly burst in upon his young friends with his usual bustle and buoyancy about six o'clock that evening. He merrily c.h.i.n.ked a pocket full of silver and was all ready for what might next come along, and eager to tackle it.
”Left Hal finis.h.i.+ng one of the few full meals he has had since his show broke up,” reported Jolly. ”Got rid of the last one of the bird houses-and, see here, Frank,” and the volatile speaker exhibited a comfortable-looking roll of bank notes. ”That was a fine speculation, the way it turned out, and leaves me quite in funds. Now then, what's the programme?”
Frank became serious at once and all the others as well. He told his loyal friend all about their plans and hopes. Jolly shook his head soberly when Frank produced some figures showing that the amount necessary to operate a new photo playhouse was beyond their ready means.
”I've got nearly one hundred dollars you are welcome to,” reported Jolly promptly, ”but that's about my limit. You see, when I got the money to buy that piano and the 'noise wagon' I practically sold my prospects for a last mess of pottage. I'm willing to pitch in and live 'most any way to give the new show a start, but when it comes to raising the extra five hundred dollars needed, I'm afraid I can't help you much.”
Randy looked glum at this, and Pep was almost crying. Ben Jolly sat chewing a toothpick vigorously, his thinking cap on.
”Perhaps we had better give up the idea of coming to Seaside Park until we are a little stronger in a money way--” Frank had begun, when there was an interruption.
”Someone to see Mr. Frank Durham,” announced a bellboy, appearing in the open doorway.
Frank arose from his chair promptly and went out into the corridor.
”In the ladies' parlor, sir,” added the bellboy, and Frank went down the stairs, wondering who this unexpected visitor could be.
CHAPTER VI-A FRIEND IN NEED
Frank Durham entered the ladies' parlor of the hotel to see a stout, dressy woman arise, joined by a girlish companion. He recognized both at once. They were the persons he had taken aboard the launch from the burning motor boat the afternoon before.
”This is Mr. Durham,” spoke Miss Porter, and she smiled in a friendly way at our hero, while her companion extended her bejeweled hand with a decided show of welcome.
”I was so overcome by that explosion,” said Mrs. Carrington, ”that I just got a glimpse of you. Then that ridiculous fainting away! I have thanked Miss Porter a dozen times for having had the foresight to obtain your name and that of your brave young comrades. Now then, Mr. Durham, if you please, sit down and give an account of yourself.”
”In what way, madam?” asked Frank, with an embarra.s.sed smile, and flus.h.i.+ng at the compliment conveyed.