"That's Herring all right and that's Jenkins," said Billy. "I'll dry the plate and take a print of it. It won't hurt anything to have a light now as I have no undeveloped plates about."
Billy then raised the red glass of the lantern to the top and shoved a plain one under it, and then, lighting a little oil stove, proceeded to carefully dry his plates, presently standing them up not too near the stove and getting out his printing frames and a package of photographic paper done up in a thick sheet of heavy black paper which excluded the light.
The little tent was lined with tar paper which had no glaze and was of an intense black, expelling all white rays which might be injurious to his exposed plates, the red rays not doing this.
When his plates were dry Billy put one of them in his frame, which contained a sheet of plain glass, and slipped one of his sensitized sheets under it, closing the frame with a cleat under the back.
Passing this in front of the lamp for a few moments, he removed the paper and placed it in a tray containing a developing fluid, when at once the print began to show very plain.
When it was dark enough he removed it from the tray and put it in another which contained a fixing fluid which prevented further development, and presently washed it thoroughly in clear water.
"What do you think of that?" he asked Jack, with a tone of triumph.
"It is convincing, isn't it?"
"It shows Herring talking to Jenkins, but you cannot tell what he says," remarked Jack with a smile.
"No, I have not got to taking talking pictures yet," laughed Billy, "but the very fact that he was with Jenkins at all means something."