“Better keep up with the times,” half laughed Randy. “You know how Peter Carrington is bragging about some new attraction that is going to put us out of business.” Frank and his chums were practically novices in the “movies” line. They, however, knew enough about the business to realize that the theme under discussion was one worth considering in all its bearings. Furthermore, they placed great reliance in the judgment of Jolly and Vincent. The letter they had received advised them that within two days the “Great Flood Series” of films would be offered for lease. The supply was limited and on this account one film had been apportioned to certain territory. The right to use the film, therefore, would go to the highest bidder in each district. The flood film covered a national disaster in which a large section of the West had been inundated, causing immense loss to life and property. Public charity had been appealed to and there were relief funds all over the country. The interest in the event had not yet abated. “It’s a big feature,” declared Ben Jolly. “My advice is to get it.” “And get it quick,” added Vincent. “These attractions are grabbed for.” “But the cost?” suggested Frank. “Oh, it is never ruinous,” said Vincent. “See here, you can spare me best out of your most valuable staff. I’ll go to the city and put the deal through, if you say so.” “What about those cornet solos, and the talking picture stunt, and the act you were going to put on the programme?” grumbled Pep. “Oh, they will keep for a night or so,” replied Vincent. “Another thing, I ordered my outfit, which was levied on at the stand down country where my last venture showed, sent to New York City before I knew I was coming down here. There’s some new wardrobe properties I want, too, so I can do double duty while I am in the city.” It was decided that Vincent should go to New York and see what could be done about the flood film. The boys had figured up what price they could stand as a maximum figure, but considerable discretion was left to their representative. Randy and Pep strolled down to the depot with Vincent. “See who’s here,” suddenly observed Randy. Peter Carrington, in a loud, checked suit, alarming necktie and classy yachting cap, was at the depot with his two admiring cronies, Greg Grayson and Jack Beavers. He was talking in a loud, showy way, but as Beavers caught sight of Vincent he spoke quickly to Peter and they drew away from the spot. Peter entered the chair car when the train came in. “Hello, going your way,” observed Randy. “Say, suppose he’s after that new feature film?” inquired Pep, excitedly. “Might be,” observed Vincent, carelessly. “If that’s the big card they were bragging about, they haven’t landed it yet. Glad you mentioned that point, Pep. I’ll get busy.”