Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West
"
"Well, we might do the same thing," proposed Patsy, who was loath to
abandon her plan.
"You might, if you have the capital," assented Mrs. Montrose. "The
Continental is an immense corporation, and I am told it has more than a
million dollars invested."
"Two millions," said A. Jones.
The girls were silent a while, seriously considering this startling
assertion. They had, between them, considerable money, but they realized
they could not enter a field that required such an enormous investment as
film making.
"I suppose," said Beth regretfully, "we shall have to give up
making films."
"Then where are we to get the proper pictures for our theatre?"
demanded Patsy.
"It is quite evident we _can't_ get them," said Louise. "Therefore we may
be obliged to abandon the theatre proposition."
Another silence, still more grave. Uncle John was discreet enough to say
nothing. The Stantons and Mrs. Montrose felt it was not their affair.
Arthur Weldon was slyly enjoying the chagrin visible upon the faces of
Mr. Merrick's three pretty nieces.
As for A. Jones, he was industriously figuring upon the back of an
envelope with a stubby bit of pencil.
CHAPTER XIII
A FOOLISH BOY
It was the youthful Sangoan who first broke the silence. Glancing at the
figures he had made he said:
"It is estimated that if twenty picture theatres use any one film--copies
of it, of course--that film will pay for its cost of making. Therefore,
if you build twenty children's theatres, instead of the one or two you
originally proposed, you would be able to manufacture your own films and
they would be no expense to you."
They gazed at him in bewilderment.
"That is all simple enough!" laughed Arthur. "Twenty picture theatres at
twenty thousand dollars each--a low estimate, my dears, for such as you
require--would mean an investment of four hundred thousand dollars. A
film factory, with several producing companies to keep it busy, and all
the necessary paraphernalia of costumes and properties, would mean a
million or so more.
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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