we're pards, and chums, not only in the moving picture business, but in everything else, Blake. Anything I've got is yours for the asking."
"That's good of you, Joe, and if you can help me I'll let you know. I didn't realize that I was acting any way strange. I must brighten up a bit. I guess we've both been working too hard. We need some amusement. Let's go to a moving picture show to-night, and see how they run things here, and what sort of films they have. We may even see one of our own."
"All right. I'll go you. We can't see that shipping agent until to-morrow. A moving picture show for ours to-night, then. Though, being in the business, as we are, it's rather like a fireman going around to the engine-house on his day off, and staying there—a queer sort of a day's vacation."
But, nevertheless, they thoroughly enjoyed the moving picture play, interspersed, as it was, with vaudeville acts. Among the films were several that Mr. Ringold's company had posed for, and several that the boys themselves had taken. The reels were good ones, too, the pictures standing out clear and bright as evidence of good work on the part of the boys and Mr. Hadley.
"Had enough?" asked Joe, after about an hour spent in the theatre.
