“You get out!” he ordered staunchly. “Hey?” goggled Peter. “And stay out!” “Humph!” Peter got to a safe distance. Then he shook his fist at Pep. “Say,” he snarled, “you’ve waked up the wrong customer. I’ve given you the chance of your life and you’ve turned me down and insulted me. I’ll show you something. Greg Grayson and I will put a spoke in the wheel of that Frank Durham and your whole precious crowd; see of we don’t!” CHAPTER VIII—KIDNAPPED “If I had our old piano here,” said Ben Jolly, “there’s one tune I’d play for all it’s worth.” “What is that, Mr. Jolly?” inquired Frank Durham. “‘Home, Sweet Home.’” The staunch friend of the motion picture chums waved his hand like a showman proudly exhibiting wares. He had a smiling and enthusiastic audience. Everybody was smiling, even Hal Vincent, who had no particular interest in the new photo playhouse. Frank’s face was beaming, Randy looked his delight and Pep uttered the words, with unction: “It’s simply great!” Two days had made considerable difference in the situation at Seaside Park. All hands had entered with enthusiasm into the proposition of starting in on the new deal, with the certainty in view of sufficient capital to finance them for at least two months ahead. The chums spent so many delightful hours figuring, planning, and mapping out details that Randy got to talking in his sleep, and Pep aroused all hands by screaming out in the midst of a nightmare in which he had started a photo playhouse in China, and the natives had mobbed him when a film showed one of their favorite mandarins being carried away in an airship. It was Jolly, however—bustling, practical Ben Jolly—who had won the laurels on the present occasion. When the vacant store had been used, at the rear was a temporary kitchen. This was a frail structure set on stilts, but roomy and just the thing for summer occupancy. Jolly was a natural born trader. It seemed that he found some difficulty in disposing of the old horse and wagon for cash. Finally, however, he came across a dealer in second hand furniture. Jolly had got the idea in his head of cutting down living expenses and utilizing the old kitchen tacked on to the store building. The chums were down at the hotel that afternoon and Jolly planned a grand surprise for them. It was now, upon their arrival at the playhouse building, that the pleasure and praise of the motion picture chums hailed him. No one could have failed to approve of the wonderful transformation Jolly had made in a bare, cheerless lumber room. He had traded to good advantage. There was a substantial table, a half dozen chairs, a cupboard, a gas stove, a complete outfit of culinary utensils, dishes and table cutlery, neat curtains for the windows and drapery dividing the room in two parts, and one side section again into two compartments.