“I know,” Jimmie replied slowly. “But this time it is nothing dangerous. I shall sleep in the men’s lounge until midnight. After that I’ll be in the office of a publishing firm on the third floor of a building watching what goes on across the street and, perhaps, shooting a few pictures.”
“That doesn’t sound very dangerous. O. K., son, I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jimmie’s plan was to watch the section of street that lay back of that fur-storage place. If anyone was tunneling toward that building he must enter and leave from that side. But how? Through the door of a vacant building? Through a basement window? Perhaps, and perhaps not. He wanted to know.
There were, however, other matters to be attended to before he took up his night’s work.
“Let me see,” he thought. “Scottie should be back. And there’s that picture we took with the trap last night. Boy, oh, boy! How life does whirl about us.”
“And we’re to meet Tom Howe at seven, John, Mary and I. The big story’s sure to break soon. And such a story!” He hurried away to find Scottie.
CHAPTER XIX
AT LAST, THE TERROR’S PICTURE
“That—” Tom Howe spoke slowly, with a suggestion almost of awe in his voice, “That is the most remarkable picture I have ever seen. In fact, the thing it reveals is almost unbelievable.”
He paused to cast a sweeping glance at his companions. Not one of them, Tom, John, or Jimmie, said a word. They were waiting for the revelation they all knew must come.
Down deep inside himself, Jimmie was the most excited of them all, for the picture which Tom held with fingers that trembled was the one taken by the old camera set as a trap in the abandoned mansion. What story did it tell? He could only wait with the rest.