“You did!” cried Allan. “You never told me about it.”
“I don’t see how the picture ever squeezes through,” said McConnell.
“Light is wonderful,” mused Allan, prying further into the box.
“Everything in nature is wonderful,” said the Doctor, “when you come to know about it. Your lens is wonderful, but not more wonderful than the hole among the leaves of a tree that photographs the sun on the ground underneath. It isn’t any more wonderful than the way the plate catches and keeps the image.”
“The plate!” repeated Allan. “I had forgotten about that! We can’t make pictures unless we have something to make them on.”
“I suppose you can get them at the photographer’s, can’t you?” asked the Doctor, examining the camera.
“Wincher’s stationery store sells cameras,” said McConnell, “and I guess they sell plates too.” Every little matter associated with the camera had an exciting interest for the boys that day. McConnell came around in the evening after Allan had run down to the stationer’s to get a package of plates.
“Open by ruby light only,” read Allan on the box.
“Yes,” said the Doctor, “you’ll have to think about your dark-room.”
“The dark-room!” This seemed like one of the most interesting things about the whole affair.