Pep tried to look and act dignified, and did very well, but he felt so elated as the crowd poured in that he was all smiles and made everybody feel at ease instead of awed. Wonderland could not have opened at a more favorable moment. A better advertisement than the cornet solo could not have been devised. The crowd attracted by the music lingered, and most of them decided to take in the show. Nearly every seat in the house was taken as Jolly began the overture. As the electric bell announced the darkening of the room Pep had to hunt for vacant chairs. Pep was particularly attentive to the cornetist, who entered the playhouse after giving a second tune on his instrument. “Near the front, please,” he said to Pep, and he seemed satisfied as the young usher found him a chair in the front row next to the curtain. The first film was full of fun and laughter. The second was an airship specialty and went off very well. The feature film of the series was “A Wrecker’s Romance.” It had just enough sea flavor to catch with the audience. There was a schooner caught in a storm that was lost in the gathering fog after sending up a rocket as a signal of distress. The next scene showed the wrecker on the rainswept beach staring into the depths for some sign from the belated ship. It was here that Ben Jolly adapted the slow, striking music to the progress of the story. Suddenly the lone figure on the beach lifted his hands to his lips, formed into a human speaking trumpet. The audience, rapt with the intensity of the incident, were breathlessly engrossed. They could anticipate his forlorn call amid that desolate scene. And then something remarkable happened. Apparently from those moving lips, distant but clear—resonant and long-drawn-out—thrilling every soul in the audience with its naturalness and intensity, there sounded the words: “Ship ahoy!” CHAPTER XVI—A GRAND SUCCESS A deep hush pervaded the audience. The people were spellbound. Even Pep, standing against the side wall, felt a thrill pass through him. So natural and fitting had been the climax of the picture that its effect was apparent in a general rustling—a deep breath that swayed the onlookers. The wrecker turned and his lips again moved as if to form for a signal whistle. Shrilly the call wavered about the scene. “A talking picture!” Pep heard someone whisper. “It’s great!” echoed another voice. A magnificent Newfoundland dog came bounding down the beach. Its young master held a coil of rope in his hand. He seemed swayed by conflicting emotions. Then he appeared to arrive at a conclusion. He would not see that noble ship go to pieces on the rocks! He secured one end of the rope to the collar of the animal and made signs. The intelligent dog lifted his head. A joyous, willing bark rang out. It was real—like the call—like the whistle. “Ginger!” exclaimed Pep Smith, in a stupefied way.