“I don’t know how to manage the camera entirely,” said the man; “but I intended to get the photographer to explain it to me.”
While I was writing down all the pictures I remembered, and the photographer was developing the film, the sergeant turned to the man who had taken my camera, and said quickly: “By the way, what was the name and address of the friend who lent you the camera?”
Well, that staggered the fellow completely. “I brought it from New York,” he began, “and his name is—”
LUNCHING OUTDOORS.
“Don’t trouble yourself to invent a name,” said the sergeant, sharply. “You said he lent it to you this morning for the day. Now, I doubt whether you came from New York this morning. Don’t you think that you may have picked up this camera by mistake for the one your friend lent to you this morning in New York?”
But before the fellow could answer, the photographer said: “The pictures tally with the young man’s list, and the one of the crowd in Cairo Street is a double exposure showing that the film hadn’t been wound up after this young man had taken the previous picture outside.
“And, Sergeant, the funniest part of it all is, that one of the pictures that the young man took just at the door of Cairo Street, shows this man standing looking at the camera, but without any of his own!” and then all the men in the room looked at the thief and grinned.
“Well,” said the sergeant to the man, “what do you think about that mistake?”
“I’m afraid it must have been an error,” said the man, rather shakily. “I picked up this camera thinking it was my own, and—”