“Must be a profile,” said John hopefully.
“Nope. See for yourselves,” Scottie held out the glass. “Only an ear.”
“More than that,” said Tom Howe after a look. “There’s a shoulder and the back of the neck. There’s as much character shown in a man’s neck as in the shape of his nose.
“And that ear!” he exclaimed after a closer look. “It’s priceless, that picture. There’s not another ear in the world like it. Jimmie, allow me to congratulate you.” He gripped the boy’s hand tightly.
“All right,” sighed Scottie. “Since it’s important we’ll wash it, then put it in the fixin’ bath and make it permanent.”
“And, Scottie,” Tom Howe put in eagerly, “just as soon as you can, make me an enlargement, big as the negative will stand. Will you?”
“It’s a good, sharp negative,” Scottie admitted. “Though how that happened with a boy shooting with a pill box from the hip, I can’t see. Your enlargement will be ready first thing in the morning, Tom.”
“I’ll be here bright and early,” Tom turned to go. The others followed him out into the dim, religious light characteristic of the editorial room of a great newspaper at night.
“I’m sorry the picture wasn’t better,” Jimmie said as Tom Howe came out from the dark room.
“You need not be.” Tom fixed his deep-set piercing eyes upon him. Tom was short and slender, yet there was that about his eyes which told each new-comer that here was a person not to be trifled with. “You got his ear and the back of his neck,” he went on. “That’s a lot. You might have got a bullet,” he added soberly. “That was a novel and daring thing to do, shooting a picture from the belt.”