As the lights came on again the man who had spoken to Vincent moved forward so as to intercept the two end men on the second row of seats. One of them, who had arisen the moment he fixed his eyes on the officer from the city, sat down quickly. He pulled his next companion by the sleeve, who slunk down with him.

All this Vincent noticed, and Pep, guessing that these actions meant something, glided to the side of the ventriloquist.

“What is it, Mr. Vincent?” he inquired breathlessly.

“I hardly know myself yet,” said Vincent.

“I want you, my man!” spoke the city officer just here.

He reached out and grabbed the slinking man by the collar.

“That one also,” was added sharply, and Hal Vincent pounced upon the other man in true official style. Pep heard what he took for signal whistles from the other members of the party, whom he noticed burrowing their way through the crowd as if fearing detection themselves and anxious to get out of the way as fast as they could.

“Go out and tell a couple of beach officers we need them, Pep,” spoke Vincent quickly. “This way,” he added to the New York officer, and led his prisoner into the living rooms.

Pep hurried on his mission and returned with the officers sent for. He advised Frank and Randy that “something was up” and made sure that the latter got started for the rear with his cash box. Then Pep closed and locked the front doors securely.

He stood there on guard until the two policemen and the officer from the city came out with their prisoners. They had handcuffed them together and the captives looked sullen but subdued.

“I won’t forget you,” spoke the officer from the city as Pep let the little group get out into the street.

“Oh, that’s all right,” replied Vincent. “We’re glad to have got through with the fellows without any row or publicity.”

“What have those men been doing, Mr. Vincent?” inquired Pep as the doors were again secured and they went back into the living rooms.

“Some big burglary in New York, the officer said,” explained the ventriloquist. “It seems he has been on their trail for a week. Located them at the Midway and traced them here to-night.”

“Get your broom, Randy,” ordered Pep, consulting his watch.

“What for?”

“We’ve got just forty-eight minutes before twelve o’clock. We want to sweep out by then. To-morrow’s Sunday, when we won’t do it, and the next day is Monday when we can’t do it with the hustle and bustle of a double programme and two matinees. Besides, it’s a satisfaction to see it all neat and in order over to-morrow.”

“That’s so,” assented Randy, but he yawned, for it had been an arduous day for all hands.

The boys pitched in with ardor, Pep taking one side, Randy the other. There was more sand than dust, for the floor had been cleanly swept only that morning. There was, however, the usual lot of candy and popcorn boxes, torn programmes, and the general litter of the entertainment.

“You beat me, Randy,” said Pep, as his companion rounded into the end of the center aisle near the entrance first with his heap of swept-up rubbish.

“I’ll get the box and the dust pan,” volunteered Randy, “and we’ll soon have the rubbish out of the way.”

While his comrade was gone for the utensils in question Pep began poking about in the accumulated heap swept up. He always did this before the heap was placed in the rubbish box and dumped out of a side window into a coal box standing beneath it. Very often they found little articles of value—once a pair of ladies’ gloves, a baby’s hat twice, rings, and after nearly every performance pennies, nickels, and once a dollar bill. A list of these articles of any value was made and placarded on a neat card labelled “Owner Apply,” tacked up on the ticket seller’s booth outside.

“A plugged nickel and two suspender buttons,” laughed Pep as a result of his explorations as Randy reappeared.

“I kicked something!” announced Randy, and sure enough something that rattled skidded across the floor from the edge of the dust heap.

“Why,” replied Pep, picking up the article in question, “it’s a chamois bag.”

“Something in it?” questioned Randy.

“Think so? I’ll see,” and Pep probed. “I say,” he added with animation, “look here, Randy!”

Both boys viewed in amazement the object Pep had extracted from the little chamois bag. It sparkled and dazzled.

“Gold!” uttered Randy.

“And diamonds!” added Pep with zest. “It’s a necklace. It’s handsome enough to be real, but that can’t be.”

“Why not?” challenged Randy.

“Oh, it would be worth a small fortune. Who’s going to drop a thing like that in a ten-cent motion picture show?”

“We’ll ask Mr. Vincent,” suggested Randy, and Pep slipped their singular find into his pocket. They cleaned up the dust heap, set the rows of chairs in apple pie order and joined the others in the living rooms.

“I want to show you something, Mr. Vincent,” said Pep, approaching the ventriloquist, who with Jolly was dispatching supper at the table.

“Why,” exclaimed Vincent, as Pep handed him the chamois bag and he held up to the light the necklace it contained, “where in the world did you get this?”

“I should say so!” cried Jolly, his eyes fixed upon the shimmering article of jewelry.

“Randy swept it up,” explained Pep.

“Is it good for anything?” inquired Randy.

“Is it!” projected Vincent forcibly. “I should rather say so! Those are genuine diamonds, and the other settings are valuable, too. Not less than a thousand dollars, and maybe five.”

Pep gave utterance to an excited whistle. Randy looked bewildered. Frank, busy at his desk going over the contents of the cash box, arose from his chair and like the others became an interested member of the group.

“Some lady must have carried it with her and it dropped from her pocket,” he suggested. “It is too late to-night to think of seeking an owner for it.”

“Whoever it belongs to will be around looking for it quick enough,” declared Vincent.

“I hope there will be some kind of a reward,” said Randy.

“If there is, you get it,” observed Pep.

“No, we divide,” insisted his loyal chum.

“Well, wait till the reward is offered, will you?” laughed Jolly. “I say, Durham, our friend Booth must know of this. He’ll get us a whole column in the newspapers. ‘Exclusive and fashionable audience at the Wonderland. Sensational loss of priceless gems! Found by the proprietors. Consumed with anxiety to locate the owner. Latter appears—prominent society leader. Jewels restored and the Wonderland still running to crowded houses. See the great flood feature films!’ Why, it’s as good as the usual lost jewels for the actress.”

Frank took charge of the chamois bag and deposited it in the tin cash box. This he locked up and as usual took it into one of the apartments where he slept.

“We shall have to keep special watch over all that valuable stuff until the bank opens Monday morning,” he explained.

Randy hung around, wrought up with excitement over their wonderful find and anxious to talk about it. Pep was very tired and went to his cot to rest. Frank, Jolly and Vincent sat with their feet on the sill of an open window, enjoying the cool breeze from the ocean and indulging in pleasant comments on the first successful week of the Wonderland.

“With the flood film and the specialty act of the great family entertainer, ‘Signor Halloway Vincenzo,’ I predict we will capture the town next week,” declared Ben Jolly.

“Guess I’ll turn in, too,” remarked Randy, after wandering about the room aimlessly for some time.

“All right, just turn out the light, will you?” asked Frank. “It’s sort of nice to sit here with the moonlight streaming in.”

Randy took off his coat and shoes and started for the apartment where Pep was fast asleep. It contained two cots. He had started over to give Pep a shake and make him get up and undress, when he chanced to pass one of the windows and glanced out.

“Fire!” he instantly shouted, and rushed out into the room where the others were.

“What’s that?” challenged Frank, springing to his feet.

“Yes, right across the block,” declared Randy. “You can see it from the side window. Look at that!”

A glare suddenly illuminated the room. Ben Jolly moved to the window and uttered a sharp whistle of surprise. Frank ran into his room and came out with his cap on. Then there was a rush for the little back stairs running into the yard behind the building.

“Wait for me!” called out Randy, struggling to put on his shoes.

“Hey! what’s all the row?” hailed Pep sleepily, as Randy stamped his foot into a shoe, grabbed up his cap and coat and made a dive for the yard.

“Fire!” bawled back Randy. “Right near us, too! Hurry up!”

Pep sat up on his cot rubbing his eyes. Then a spurting glare from the fire lit up the room. He jumped to his feet and hurried out into the large room.

“It is a fire, sure enough,” he exclaimed, glancing from the window. “It’s that big building where they rent rooms to transients. The whole roof is ablaze and——”

Pep came to a sudden halt. Just stepping over the threshold of the doorway at the head of the yard steps, he was confronted by two men running up them.

One of them threw out one hand. It landed on Pep’s breast, almost pushing him off his footing, and was accompanied by the gruff voice:

“Hey, you get back in there!”