Frank gave an exclamation.
“Why, you caught a man!”
“Yes, and his face is turned exactly toward the camera. The snap made him look, and with the flash he was indelibly impressed on the film. What is more, if you look at it on the other side and partly turned away, you can see the positive of his face as plain as day. It’s Waddy, all right. I got him!” laughed the photographer, in glee.
“Well, that’s worth something. I’m beginning to realize the tremendous possibilities of a camera at times. That evidence would be accepted in court as conclusive. Go, and wash the film carefully, Will. If you fail to get a few great scenes, you don’t lose everything, it seems.”
“Isn’t that the Peters tribe setting sail, Frank?”
“Why it is, as sure as you live. I wonder they stayed so late. They must be pretty hungry by this time if that educated ape got away with all they had. Perhaps we might have made a master stroke if we’d gone over this morning with an offering of some bacon, coffee and such things. Too bad neither of us thought of it before.”
Will looked strangely at his companion. He could not wholly understand the impulses that guided the actions of the other. His experience in the world had not been as varied as that of the boy from Maine, or he might have realized what was meant; though possibly the act of kindness might, after all, have been wasted on those tough young citizens.
“They’re going home, all right, and good riddance. If we could only get rid of the balance of undesirable people on this same island, there might be a chance for us to finish up our outing in peace,” he remarked bitterly.
“I hope they don’t give Bluff any trouble,” said Frank, as if musing.
“Bluff—is he in sight, then?” demanded his comrade, eagerly.