“Is that so? That’s queer. I’m taking a little vacation, too,” said Gale. “My folks live in this town, you know. But say, old man, I’ve had a rare piece of luck. I’ve accidentally stumbled across a rattling good yarn which I’m going to put on the wire in a little while. The New York Daily News will be tickled to death to get it.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Hawley, making another ineffectual attempt to free his imprisoned coat sleeve. “But really, Gale, I must be going. I’ll see you again some other time.”
“Don’t be in such a hurry,” Gale protested. “I must say, Hawley, you’re not a bit sociable to-day. I want to tell you about this story I’ve had the luck to pick up. It’s a peach; and I think you’ll be interested. It’s about the arrest of a well-known New York newspaper man,” he went on, with a sardonic laugh. “A fellow in your own line, Hawley. They’re going to send him to jail for six months.”
Never had Gale seen the Camera Chap more panic-stricken than he appeared now.
“Let me go!” he gasped. “What the deuce are you holding on to me like that for? I tell you I’ve got to get away. I’ve got an important engagement.”
“Just a minute, old chap,” said Gale softly, taking a tighter hold on his victim’s sleeve. “I really can’t let you go until I’ve told you how very glad I am to see you.
“By the way,” he added, pointing to the camera in Hawley’s hand, “I see you’ve been doing a little work during your vacation, too. Did you get a good picture?”
“Oh, no,” Hawley replied nervously. “I didn’t take a picture at all. I——”
He didn’t finish the sentence; for just then some one stepped up behind him, and a big hand clutched him by the coat collar. “You lie!” a hoarse voice bellowed. “You miserable whelp, you’re caught with the goods this time.”
The large hand and the hoarse oath both belonged, of course, to Chief of Police Hodgins. As he grabbed the Camera Chap, the six plain-clothes men who had been lying in ambush pounced out of their various hiding places and surrounded the prisoner.