Randy and Pep looked pretty blank at this. It was a decidedly wet blanket on all their high hopes. “Couldn’t we get a partner who would finance us?” finally suggested Randy. “Why, say, give me that chance!” spoke an eager voice that brought the three chums to their feet. CHAPTER IV—AN OLD FRIEND It had grown nearly dusk while the three chums sat at the window of their room animatedly discussing their prospects. None of them had thought of lighting the gas and the night shadows that had crept into the room prevented them from recognizing the intruder whom they now faced. They had left the door of the room leading into the corridor wide open to allow a free current of air. The doorway framed a dim figure who now advanced into the room as Frank challenged sharply: “Who’s that?” “Why, it’s me—Peter,” came the cool reply. “Don’t you remember?” Peter—Peter Carrington—stalked closer to the window with the superb effrontery that was a natural part of his make-up. He ducked his head and grinned at the chums in the most familiar manner in the world. There was a spare chair near by. Peter moved it near to the others and sat down as if he owned it. “Feels good to rest,” he enlightened his grim and astonished hosts. “Had a message for you, and the hotel clerk directed me to your room. Say, you must fancy climbing four flights of stairs!” “You seem to have made it,” observed Randy, in a rather hostile tone, while Pep seemed bristling all over. “Glad I did,” piped Peter, cheerfully. “Wouldn’t have missed it for worlds. Just in time to hear you fellows going over your dandy scheme, and say—it’s a winner! Photo playhouse on the beach! Why, it’ll coin money!” Nobody said anything. Frank was minded to treat the intruder civilly and resumed his chair. Suddenly Pep flared out: “Have you been waiting out in the hall there, listening to our private conversation?” “Guess I have; glad I did,” chuckled the thick-skinned Peter. “I heard you say you were short of funds and something about a partner. What’s the matter with me? I suppose you know my aunt is rich and we’re some folks here. We live up on the Terrace—most fashionable part of the town. Why, if I had an interest in your show I could fill your place with complimentaries to the real people of Seaside Park. They’d advertise you, my friends would, till there’d be nothing but standing room left.” “Think so?” observed Randy, drily. “Know it. I’m my aunt’s heir, you know, and she’s got scads of money. She’s been drawing the tight rein on me lately. I smashed an automobile last week and it cost her over four hundred dollars, and she’s holding me pretty close on the money question. But in business, she’d stake me for anything I wanted. Says she wants to see me get into something.” “You got into the water when the motor boat blew up, all right,” remarked Pep.