It was the ubiquitous Booth whom Frank greeted. He knew the man at a glance and so did Vincent. The latter viewed the new arrival suspiciously and with a none too cordial bow. There was something that appealed to Frank in the visionary old fellow, however, and he treated him courteously. Booth bore unmistakable signs of prosperity and contentment. He now wore a brand new glossy silk tile, lemon colored gloves, was cleanly shaven and exploited an irreproachable collar and bright red necktie. He might have been one of the amusement kings of America judging from the immense gravity and dignity of his demeanor. Mr. Booth drew out a memorandum book with several bank notes folded between its pages and straightened his neat gold eyeglasses. “I have some very pretentious business offerings for you, Mr. Durham,” he volunteered. “However, before we proceed any farther, there is a matter of unfinished business—a trivial obligation. Let me see?” and he flipped over several leaves of the memorandum book. “Ah, yes, this is it: ‘Acceptance, one hundred and fifty.’ No, that is not it. ‘Note at bank’—wrong again. Here we have it: ‘I. O. U., one dollar.’ I had forgotten the amount,” and he handed Frank a bill for that amount. “Many thanks, Mr. Durham. Adversity is the common lot, and such cheerful assistance as that which you accorded me at New York City is of the kind that keeps the human heart warm with those who honorably expect to pay their debts. Now then, sir, to the important business mission which brought me here.” Vincent looked darkly suspicious, Frank mildly inquisitive, Randy wondered what was coming, and Pep was curiously expectant. “The inauguration of two new photo playhouses at Seaside Park has offered a certain scope of opportunity for my line of specialization,” proceeded Booth. “I have canvassed the town and have done some very satisfactory initial business, believe me, Mr. Durham.” “I am very glad to hear that,” spoke Frank, heartily. “Beyond my expectations, I may say,” declared the enterprising advance agent. “You are open for curtain features, sir?” “Of the right kind, most certainly,” assented Frank. “High class with me, sir, always,” declared Booth. “I have one contract of quite some magnitude. It is a continuous one, with a feature that will enhance your business materially. Perhaps I had better show you. How is that, sir?” The advance agent presented a card. Upon it a photograph had been pasted and under this was the reading: “Who am I? Meet me face to face!” “Why,” smiled Frank in some mystification, “this is a picture of the back of a man’s head?”