This article comes in all sizes. The jack-in-the-box which Hawley selected was small, and fitted snugly inside the cheap film camera after the roll of film had been removed.
Before leaving the store, Hawley had taken out his pocketknife and removed the lid of the jack-in-the-box. Then he stuffed the rest of the toy inside the camera, compressing the spring so that when the little trapdoor in the camera was opened Jack would immediately pop out in a startling manner.
By the light of the photographer’s ruby lamp, Hodgins and Gale exchanged glances of blank dismay.
For a few moments the chief’s emotion was so profound that he was quite incapable of speech. He stood scowling at the papier-mâché figure, and from his throat came strange noises as though he were about to have a fit.
“It looks as if we’ve been handed a nice, juicy lemon,” exclaimed Gale, with a grim laugh. “There’s no film there, of course.”
“Not a bit of film,” replied the photographer to whom this question was addressed. “This funny little jumping jack occupies all the space where the film roll should go.”
Gale turned regretfully to Hodgins. “Guess we do[Pg 40]n’t get Hawley this time, chief. I understand now why that stiff was so amused over his arrest. He didn’t expect that we’d open the camera before we got to court, and he figured on making us look like a couple of fools there.”
What Chief Hodgins said in response cannot be printed here. He had recovered his power of speech by this time, and proceeded to make good use—or, rather, bad use—of it.
“Well, at all events,” said Gale soothingly, “you’re lucky to have discovered this miserable trick here and now, instead of later on in court. You have at least saved your dignity, chief.”
“Dignity my eye!” growled Hodgins, refusing to find any comfort in this reflection. “I wanted that impudent loafer in jail—I’d almost give my right hand to be able to put him there—and this is a terrible disappointment. Honest, young feller, it’s enough to make a man feel discouraged.”