“I think they did, yes,” acknowledged Frank, “but if we go to making any charges we cannot prove Mrs. Carrington will hear of it, and I don’t care to offend her. Drop it, Pep. We’ll have to take our medicine this time. If it gets too flagrant, then we will go to the authorities with it.” Pep was not fully satisfied, however. He managed to see his friend who worked for the National a little later, and tried to enlist his coöperation in ferreting out the vandals who had damaged the electric sign. The latter could not be replaced entire without sending to the city for some of the missing letters. This, however, led to one beneficial result. When the duplicate letters arrived some colored bulbs accompanied them, a suggestion of Jolly. Two nights later the brilliant sign invited and attracted attention in its new varicolored dress, showing up as the most conspicuous illumination on the boardwalk. The gusty, showery weather got down to a chill unpleasant spell finally. On Thursday night the Wonderland was running, but to rather slim audiences. There were few venturesome visitors to the beach in the daytime and the matinee entertainments were curtailed. That night, however, the Wonderland had never had a more enthusiastic audience. It was comprised of an entirely new crowd—people themselves in the entertainment business and general trade lines, who could pick only a slack business period to seek enjoyment. They knew what a good thing was when they saw it and their generous approbation of the flood film and of Hal Vincent’s ventriloquial acts with his dummies made up for the lack of numbers. “Fine thing!” said more than one. When the second show began a good many who had gone out came back again. A pelting rain had set in, accompanied by a tearing wind. Randy had to keep the window of the ticket office closed as well as he could, and Pep shut the roof ventilators. It was in the middle of the last film that a great gust of wind shook the building. In the midst of it the echo of the service bell of the life saving station down the beach reached the ears of the audience. Many began to get nervous. Just as the film closed there was a clatter and crash and pieces of the broken skylight in the roof of the playhouse clattered down. There were cries and a general commotion. Many arose to their feet. The rain began to pour in from overhead. At that critical moment Frank closed the projector and shot on the lights. CHAPTER XXIV—THE GREAT STORM “We’re going to have a night of it.” Ben Jolly spoke the words with a grim conviction that had its effect upon his friends. Each could realize for himself that they were face to face with an emergency. When the skylight was partly shattered by a loose board blown across the surface of the roof, and the pieces of shattered glass and rain came beating down, the flood of illumination quieted what might have been a panic. Jolly had jumped to the piano stool.