“See!” he held up Scottie’s old camera. “Telescopic lens.”
“That,” the pitcher took the camera and examined it closely, “that’s a wonderful idea. But this camera now.” He hesitated. “It really doesn’t look very new. Is it up-to-the-minute?”
“No,” Jimmie grinned. “It isn’t much more than up to the day-before-yesterday. But I had to make it do.”
“We’ll correct that,” said Durant. Taking out a small, blank book, he entered some notes; then, without further comment, returned the book to his pocket.
Five minutes later Jimmie was back in his place in the row of copy boys. But not for long. It was Scottie who now called him out. “Jimmie,” he said, “here’s a negative I found in your lot of baseball shots. Looks like some sort of a row. What’s it all about? And do we keep it?”
“Oh, yes. Er—let’s see! Now, I know.”
“Here’s a print,” suggested Scottie.
The moment his eyes fell upon that print Jimmie knew there was something unusual about the central figure in the picture, but cudgel his brain as he might he could not, for a long time, tell what it was. When it did come it was with the force of a blow on the head.
Taking the picture to a bright corner of the great, busy room, he studied it for a long time. When his turn for answering the call, “Boy,” came, he thrust it into his pocket.
Fortunately his errand that time took him to the art department. There, while he was awaiting a series of drawings he picked up a magnifying glass and through this took another look at the picture.