“Enough is as good as a feast,” laughed Randy, hugging his tin cash box under his arm with great complacency. “It couldn’t have been better.” “I guess we’ve hit it this time,” pronounced Pep, proudly. “That isn’t always so hard to do at the start,” advised Hal Vincent. “It’s keeping it up that counts. You want to advertise now—new stunts, novelties, attractions.” “Attractions!” cried Pep. “Can the best of them beat those cornet solos? Novelties! Why, those talking pictures will be the hit of the town.” “You are a famous friend, Mr. Vincent,” spoke Frank, warmly. “And ought to be a famous man,” supplemented Jolly, loyally. “He’s worth putting on a special programme, Durham.” “I got through with my city lawsuit just in time,” explained Vincent. “Made quite a good settlement, too. First thing I did was to release my wardrobe and dummies from embargo. They are ready to ship to any point where I may find an engagement.” “Then give your order for their delivery at Seaside Park forthwith, Mr. Vincent,” directed Frank, spontaneously. “I’ll risk saying that we can pay you what is fair for a month’s steady run at least.” “Things seem to be building up right along the line; don’t they, Pep?” piped the piano player briskly, giving his favorite a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Oh!” cried Randy, “we’re going to find all kinds of fame and fortune at Seaside Park.” “By—the—wild—sea—waaa-ves!” added the versatile Vincent, throwing his ventriloquist voice way off over the beach in a sing-song way that startled passers-by. CHAPTER XVII—BOASTFUL PETER “Somebody at the door, Pep.” “All right, I’ll attend to them.” Jolly was rearranging the chairs after sweeping out the playhouse and Pep was dusting, when there came a summons at the front door. It was a smart tapping and Pep wondered who it could be. He released one door to confront an impressive-looking individual, with a light cane in his hand and a face that somehow made Pep think of a stranded actor. “This is the Wonderland, I assume?” spoke the caller, grandiloquently. “You have assumed right,” replied Pep. “Mr. Frank Durham, proprietor?” “One of them.” “Can I see Mr. Durham personally. Important business.” “Certainly. This way,” directed Pep, and he led the way to the living room at the rear. “What did I tell you!” half groaned Hal Vincent into Frank’s ear the moment he set eyes on the newcomer. “Ah, Mr. Durham—forgotten me, I suppose?” airily intimated the visitor, as he entered the room. “Not at all,” replied Frank, with a pleasant smile, as he arose from the desk at which he was seated. Jolly had got hold of a very presentable desk in his trading. It had been set in a convenient corner of the room and constituted the “office” of the Wonderland.