“Peter has our best wishes, Mrs. Carrington,” declared Frank. “I can assure you of that. Of course we are business rivals, but it will be with entire fairness on our part.” “I am sure it will. I told you so, Mrs. Carrington,” spoke Miss Porter. “Peter talks as though you were sanguinary enemies, but I knew it was nonsense as far as you are concerned. I don’t like the man he has taken in with him, a Mr. Beavers, however. I told him so yesterday, but met with a rebuff for the interest I displayed in Peter’s welfare.” “That little lady is our champion, all right,” declared Pep, returning from escorting the ladies to their automobile. When the boys came to reckon up the proceeds of the evening they found them to be several dollars over what they had taken in the first night. They were congratulating themselves on their continued good fortune when Hal Vincent put in an appearance. He had a great paper roll under his arm and looked brisk and contented. “Well, Hal?” hailed Jolly, in a cheery, expectant way. “I want to show you something,” was the ventriloquist’s reply as he opened the roll upon the table. It contained six different four-sheet posters. They were high colored, well executed and attractive. They depicted striking and thrilling events of “The Great Flood.” “Twenty-five sets go with the films,” he explained. “And you’ve got the films?” said Jolly. “I couldn’t bear to leave them behind,” replied Vincent, with a smile. “I’ve got them and the price won’t break us--but it’s at the cost of making a deadly enemy.” CHAPTER XIX GETTING ALONG “Who’s the enemy, Mr. Vincent?” inquired Frank, quickly. “Peter Carrington.” “Pooh!” derided Randy. “That doesn’t sound so dangerous,” declared Pep, lightly. “Tell us about it, Hal,” urged Jolly. “There isn’t a lot to tell,” replied Vincent. “Pep here was right about Carrington being bound on the same mission to the city as myself. I found him at the National Film Exchange in great fettle. He had just closed a deal for the flood film.” “Then--then----” began Pep, in alarm. “In his usual conspicuous and important way he had his check book out, fountain pen in hand, and ended up a grand flourish to his signature with a sort of triumphant grin at me as I entered the office. “‘Too late, Mr. Man!’ he chuckled. ‘Thought maybe you would be after the king attraction of the season, so I hot-footed it here from the train. There you are, sir,’ and he handed the check to the cashier of the Exchange. ‘Just pack up that film and the posters. Building a big transparency advertising it. If I can catch an early train we’ll put it on to-night.’ “‘I cannot deliver the goods on this check, Mr. Carrington,’ said the cashier, politely but firmly. “‘I’d like to know why you can’t!’ flared up Peter. ‘That check is good as gold, and my aunt has a little fortune in that same bank.’