There was a great deal to attend to that day. The season had commenced with the finest of weather and it bade fair to continue indefinitely. Frank and Jolly spent several hours deciding on the matinee feature. “Tell you what, fellows,” he said to Randy and Pep, “Mr. Jolly thinks he had better take the week to get into our routine thoroughly. Mr. Booth was in to see us again this morning about some advertising he will put through at low cost. I hardly think we will try any day shows until next week, unless our competitors do. Then of course we will have to show our colors.” “Well, I can tell you that they are not asleep,” declared Pep. “How is that?” inquired Jolly. “I saw my friend who works for them. He is building a big transparency to put across the front of the National. He don’t know exactly what it is going to advertise, but he thinks a big film feature.” “The flood special, I’ll bet!” guessed Randy at once. “Aren’t they a little premature?” advanced Jolly. “We’ll know to-night,” said Frank. “Mr. Vincent will probably be back on a late train.” The boys were brisk and ready for the evening’s entertainment when the hour arrived. There was every indication of a big attendance. What pleased Frank most was to notice that those who were waiting for the doors to open were mostly family people—children and residents. This spoke well for the reputation the Wonderland had already gained. The first house was only fair. There was, however, a big gain at eight o’clock. Randy looked up from the ticket reel as a familiar voice struck his ear with the monotonous: “Two tickets, please.” “No, no,” he laughed, moving back the bill which Miss Porter presented, and bowing with deference to her companion, the portly Mrs. Carrington. “You must allow us the honor and pleasure of retaining you on the free list.” “Ridiculous, young man!” said the outspoken Mrs. Carrington, but she was forced ahead by the on-pressing crowd. Pep caught sight of them and hustled about actively securing two good seats among the few left. Pep felt that he was on good behavior with the eyes of their lady patronesses upon them. When they arose to leave at the end of the hour he slipped over to the operator’s booth and advised Frank of the presence of their distinguished company. The little party drew aside for a moment or two out of the path of the dispersing audience. “We must certainly compliment you on your well ordered place, Mr. Durham,” said Mrs. Carrington. “And your tasteful selection of films,” added Miss Porter, brightly. “As to your pianist, he is an expert, and your usher system perfect.” “Oh, pshaw! you are making fun of me,” declared Pep, reddening. “Oh, dear!” observed Mrs. Carrington with a sigh, “of course I am deeply anxious for the success of that headstrong nephew of mine. Now he has got into the motion picture business I can’t quite abandon him; but I must say the National is crude and inartistic compared with your place here.”