As said, Frank found that even within the six months that had passed since he had bought their original motion picture outfit science had been busy in the improvement of old and the invention of new devices. Kinetoscopes, cameragraphs--all the varied list of projecting apparatus had progressed fast. It kept his mind on the alert to catch the explanations of the newest thing in condensing glasses, front and rear; jackets and tubes, transformers, shutters, iris dissolvers, knife switches and slide carriers. It was all part of an education in the line of business activity he had adopted, however, and Frank drank in lots of knowledge during that New York trip. He was full of pleasant anticipation and eager to rejoin his friends at Seaside Park, to go over with them his list of the wonderful things purchased and tell them about the satisfactory arrangements he had made for new feature films as they came along. He shook Vincent’s hand heartily in parting. Frank added a word or two, telling how he hoped they would see the ventriloquist down at Seaside Park soon. “I have a fair chance of getting something out of the road venture that burst up and left me stranded when I ran across Jolly,” explained Vincent. “As soon as that is settled, which may be in less than a week, I’ll be down at the new Wonderland--don’t doubt it. Move on a bit; will you, Durham?” Vincent spoke in a quick undertone, his eyes fixed on an approaching pedestrian who at once attracted Frank’s attention. He was the typical tragedian out at elbows, but showing his consciousness of being “an actor.” He wore one rusty glove. The other hand was thrust into the breast of his tightly buttoned frock coat. His hair was long, and his hat, once a silk tile, was dented and yellowed by usage. Frank’s companion did not escape. The eagle eye of the oncomer was fixed upon him and would not leave him. “Ah, Hal!” he hailed, extending his gloved hand with a bow of real elegance--“howdy. Off the circuit? So am I. I see you are eating,” and he glanced up and down the new suit of clothes Vincent had been enabled to purchase from his share in the bird house speculation. “That’s about all I am able to arrange for,” declared Vincent, bluntly. “I expect a check,” proceeded the newcomer grandly. “Avaricious, but wealthy relative. If I could anticipate till to-morrow, now----” “Not from me, I can tell you that,” interrupted Vincent definitely. “Only a dollar. You see----” “A dime wouldn’t make any difference until I get my settlement from the people who sent me out to starve,” insisted Vincent. Frank was interested in the odd, airy individual, who struck him as a rather obsolete type of the fraternity. He smiled, and this was encouragement for the frayed actor, who touched his hat again and extended his gloved hand, this time towards Frank, with the words: