“Some day we’ll have to do some advertising ourselves,” put in Tom.  “That is, after we get our business in first-class running order.”

“And get our bonds back,” added Dick.

“Oh, say, let’s forget those bonds for just one night!” entreated Sam.  “I haven’t been able to get a good night’s sleep since I came here because of them.”

The portion of Broadway where they were walking, is lined with innumerable theaters and moving picture places.  They had passed on less than three blocks further, when Sam suddenly caught Tom by the arm.

“Here we are, Tom!” he exclaimed, somewhat excitedly.  “Here’s that moving picture.”

“So it is!” returned Tom, and immediately became as interested as his younger brother.  They had come to a halt before a gorgeous moving picture establishment, and on one of the billboards they saw exhibited a flashy lithograph, depicting two men struggling in a rowboat with a third man on the shore aiming a gun at one of the others.  Over the picture were the words:  “His Last Chance.  A Thrilling Rural Drama in Two Reels.”

“What is it, Tom?” questioned Dora.

“Why, that’s the moving picture play we told you about—­ the one that we got into at the Oak Run railroad station,” explained the youth.  “That picture you see there was taken along the river bank back of our farm.  Another picture shows the railroad station at Oak Run, with old Ricks in it, and still another ought to show the railroad train with Sam and me on the back platform.  Let us go in and see it.”

“Why, yes, I want to see that by all means!” declared Dick’s wife.  “Won’t it be funny to see you boys in a moving picture!”

“Well, I don’t know about this,” returned Dick, hesitatingly; and he looked rather quickly at Tom.  “Are you quite sure, Tom, that you want to go into a moving picture show?” he went on.  He had not forgotten how Tom had once gone to a moving picture exhibition, and been completely carried away by a scene of gold digging in faraway Alaska, nor how his poor brother had for a time lost his mind and wandered off to the faraway territory, as related in detail in “The Rover Boys in Alaska.”

“Oh, don’t you fear for me, Dick!” cried Tom, hastily.  “My head is just as good as it ever was and able to stand a hundred moving picture shows.  Come on in, I’ll get the tickets;” and without waiting for an answer, Tom stepped up to the little ticket booth and secured the necessary pasteboards.

CHAPTER XXII

 The moving picture again

The moving picture theater was fairly well filled, but the four managed to obtain seats close to the middle of the auditorium.  They had entered while a slap-dash comedy was being depicted—­ something that set the audience laughing heartily.  Then followed a parlor drama, which was more notable for its exhibition of fashions than it was for plot or acting.