THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 CAPTAIN KODAK
 
 I'm all right!' shouted McConnell 
 
 (See page 269.)
 
 CAPTAIN KODAK 
 
 A CAMERA STORY 
 
 By 
 
 Alexander Black 
 
 Author of " Miss Jerry," " Miss 
 America, " " The Story of Ohio ' ' 
 
 etC. ooooooooo 
 
 With Photographic 
 Illustrations by the 
 Author oooo 
 
 BOSTON 
 LOTHROP PUBLISHING COMPANY
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1899, 
 
 BY 
 LOTHROP PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 THIRD EDITION 
 
 ^limpton JJvcss 
 
 H. M. PLIMPTON it CO., PRINTERS 4 BINDERS, 
 NORWOOD, MASS., U.S.A. 
 
 TYPOGRAPHY BY J. S. GUSHING <fc CO., NORWOOD, MASS., U.S.A.
 
 1)
 
 /N the olden days people peered 
 about in the world for the foun 
 tain of perpetual youth. Nowa 
 days they are wiser. They find a 
 hobby an enthusiasm, by which the 
 old are made young and the young are 
 made wise and happy. 
 
 This is the story of the camera hobby; 
 of an amateur photographer and his 
 chums; of a boy s adventures in the 
 company of his camera; of a camera 
 club and the old and young brought
 
 together by the influence of a common 
 interest ; of journeys in search of the 
 picturesque; of -problems, struggles, and 
 surprises. 
 
 'The pictures are not by any means 
 always intended to show my readers 
 how photographs should be made, but 
 rather to suggest the interest of famil 
 iar and accessible things, and that the 
 best thing about a photograph is not 
 always the thing we wished or ex 
 pected to put in it. 
 
 For assistance in the form of pictures 
 at the Montauk camp I am indebted to 
 my friend, Mr. Walter Hammitt. 
 
 A. B.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. THE COMING OF THE CAMERA 
 
 II. THE FIRE .... 
 
 III. UNDER THE RED LAMP . 
 
 IV. AN ILL-KEPT SECRET 
 
 V. THE DARK-ROOM MYSTERY 
 
 VI. DETECTIVE DOBBS 
 
 VII. IN NEW YORK 
 
 VIII. Two ARRESTS 
 
 IX. GREAT EXPECTATIONS 
 
 X. THE CAMERA CLUB 
 
 XI. AT CONEY ISLAND . 
 
 XII. BIG WOLF AND COMPANY 
 
 XIII. A TOUCH-DOWN 
 
 XIV. THE SAILING OF THE " ARABELLA " 
 XV. A CHANGED SKY 
 
 XVI. AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR . 
 
 XVII. WINTER DAYS 
 
 XVIII. ECHOES OF WAR 
 
 XIX. RETURNED HEROES 
 
 '3 
 
 33 
 43 
 53 
 65 
 73 
 9i 
 101 
 
 U5 
 129 
 
 151 
 
 165 
 179 
 191 
 203 
 225 
 241 
 
 255 
 271
 
 CAPTAIN KODAK. 
 
 i. 
 
 THE COMING OF THE CAMERA. 
 
 ON the day when the 
 circus came to Ha- 
 zenfield; one of the ele 
 phants broke loose and 
 strolled up Main Street ; 
 and when they chased him 
 he knocked down three 
 lamp-posts, the stone boy 
 on the drinking-fountain, 
 upset a trolley car, broke 
 the insurance company's 
 sign, smashed the helmet 
 of Policeman Ryan, and 
 fell into a hole in front of 
 the barber's. 
 
 There never had been so much excitement in 
 Hazenfield, and the motorman, Policeman Ryan, and 
 the barber hope there never will be again. 
 
 When it was all over, that is to say, when they got 
 the elephant out of the hole, which you must know 
 was no easy matter, and Hazenfield had quieted down 
 again, there were many comments on the incident. 
 
 '3
 
 14 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " I never expected an elephant," said the motorman. 
 
 " I'm glad it wasn't your head," said Policeman 
 Ryan's wife, when she saw the helmet. 
 
 " I thought he was coming in to get shaved ! " said 
 the barber. 
 
 Allan Hartel, the Doctor's son, said, " If I'd only 
 had a camera ! " 
 
 Allan recalled how Main Street cleared, or tried to 
 clear, when the elephant was first discovered ; and the 
 way the elephant swung his trunk, and dropped into a 
 hobbling trot before he struck the trolley car. He 
 recalled the frantic movement of the motorman as 
 he caught sight of the big, lumbering beast at the 
 corner. 
 
 " If I'd only had a camera ! " 
 
 He recalled the brave way that Policeman Ryan 
 stepped out into the street, waving his club, and the 
 way he dodged when the elephant swung at him with 
 his trunk. 
 
 " If I'd only had a camera ! " 
 
 He recalled the way the elephant dropped on his 
 knees in the hole. He recalled the funny wrinkling 
 of the elephant's hind legs as if he had on a pair of 
 trousers that were too large for him. 
 
 " If I'd only had a camera ! " 
 
 I suppose that the way he felt about this elephant 
 affair had a good deal to do with the fact that after 
 that Allan always liked so much to photograph ele 
 phants. But I must not get ahead of my story. 
 
 To properly go on with the story I must tell you 
 that about six weeks after the elephant got himself in a 
 hole, and the circus people, with derrick and tackle, 
 got him out again (you never saw an elephant more 
 truly ashamed of himself than that elephant), Little
 
 The Coming of the Camera. 15 
 
 McConnell saw Allan Hartel come out of the express 
 office with a package. 
 
 Now you, reader, will guess at once that this was 
 a camera, but McConnell had no suspicion of this 
 fact. 
 
 " Hello ! " called McConnell, " what have you got 
 there ? " 
 
 McConnell was thirteen, two years younger than 
 Allan. He was called Little McConnell to distinguish 
 him from his brother, who was called Big McConnell. 
 It would be hard to say why no one ever called him 
 Percy his first name. Even Allan always called him 
 simply McConnell. He was the kind of boy, some 
 how, that you always call by his last name and never 
 know why. 
 
 McConnell and Allan had been chums for a long 
 time, and McConnell certainly should have known 
 what was in the bundle had he not been up to Green- 
 by visiting his aunt for two weeks, and had not Allan 
 kept a certain little enterprise a secret from everybody 
 before that. But when Allan said, " Guess," he was 
 much puzzled for a moment. Then he made the 
 most successful guess he ever had made in his life. 
 
 " Not a camera ? " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes," admitted Allan. 
 
 " When did you buy it ? " McConnell felt as if 
 he must have been left out of Allan's confidence some 
 how. 
 
 " I didn't buy it," Allan replied. 
 
 " Then who gave it to you your father ? " 
 
 " It wasn't given to me," returned Allan. 
 
 " Well," said McConnell, a little annoyed, " that is 
 just a trick. You'd have to buy it or have it given 
 to you wouldn't you ? "
 
 1 6 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " No," said Allan ; " there's another way." 
 
 "Oh, yes you could find it." 
 
 " Then there is still another way," Allan insisted. 
 
 " You don't mean to steal it, do you ? " 
 
 " No," said Allan ; " there is one other way." 
 
 " I give it up," said McConnell. " That conun 
 drum beats me," and he went over the thing on his 
 fingers : " buy it, have it given to you, find it, steal 
 it, what else is there?" 
 
 " Win it," said Allan. 
 
 McConnell laughed. " Cheney says c win ' when 
 he means steal." 
 
 " I can't help that," insisted Allan ; " I did win it." 
 
 " How ? What was the game ? " 
 
 " It wasn't a game. I wrote a composition. There 
 were a lot of prizes. One of them was a camera." 
 
 " You always were lucky," said McConnell. Then 
 to show that he wasn't envious, he added : "I'm glad 
 you did win it. 1 was thinking the other day that 
 everybody seemed to have a camera except us. Is it 
 a ' press the button ' ? " 
 
 " It's both. You can press the button or stand it 
 on legs, either one. It hasn't any legs, now. They 
 come separately. I don't believe I'll care much for 
 them. I can rest it on something." 
 
 "Yes," McConnell assented; "when they're on legs 
 they sometimes get broken when some one kicks 
 against one of the legs. Let's see, what is it they 
 call the legs ? " 
 
 " Do you mean tripod ? " 
 
 " Yes, that's it, tripod. I wonder why it isn't tri- 
 ped" mused McConnell, as they continued their walk 
 toward Allan's house. " We say biped and quadruped 
 for two legs and four legs."
 
 McConnell and Allan had been chums for a long time.
 
 The Coming of the Camera. 19 
 
 Allan could not explain ; and he was thinking about 
 the camera. " Don't you want to help me fix up a 
 dark room out in the stable ? " 
 
 " That's just what I do want," exclaimed McCon- 
 nell. " I want to learn the ropes. You see, I think 
 that when Bill hears about your having a camera he'll 
 help me to get one somehow. It seems to me," Mc- 
 Connell continued enthusiastically, " I'd almost swap 
 my wheel for one ! " 
 
 Allan was thinking about the dark room. " Jo 
 Bassett has his in the kitchen. I mean he develops 
 there at night, and Owen has his in the attic. I 
 wanted father to let me have the little place by his 
 office, you know, where all the bottles are, but he 
 said, No, sir ! I'd have to doctor my plates where he 
 wasn't doctoring his patients, for he didn't want either 
 the plates or the patients to get the wrong doses." 
 
 The boys laughed. 
 
 " Is the stuff dangerous that they put on the plates ?" 
 asked McConnell. 
 
 " I guess not," answered Allan, " unless you drink 
 it. Father says there are two sides to a person, the 
 inside and the outside, and he says we mustn't use 
 things on the wrong side. He's going to help me 
 about the bottles." 
 
 " But you must take the pictures first," said Mc 
 Connell. He was impatient to see the camera, and to 
 have it aimed at something. " Couldn't we couldn't 
 you take something to-day ? " 
 
 " It's too late now," said Allan, regretfully. " We 
 need a lot of light, and there's scarcely any left. But 
 we'll get everything ready, so far as we can, for to 
 morrow." 
 
 When they reached Allan's house the Doctor was
 
 2O Captain Kodak. 
 
 just getting into his carriage at the door. " Hello ! " 
 he called ; " so it has come, Allan ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," and Allan swung his package in the air. 
 
 " Good ! " exclaimed the Doctor. " I shall want to 
 see it when I get back." 
 
 The boys made short work of the bundle when they 
 reached indoors. Wrapped in strong paper and nes 
 tling in " excelsior " was the shiny, leather-covered box, 
 with holes, and buttons, and levers, and gauges, a 
 mysterious box, which the boys proceeded to examine 
 from its six sides with great reverence. 
 
 With the aid of the printed instructions, and what 
 knowledge the boys had acquired from seeing other 
 Hazenfield cameras (especially Owen Kent's), the 
 mysteries began one by one to seem less mysterious. 
 It was great fun to watch the images of the room, of 
 the window, of the street, in the little "finder." 
 
 " Isn't the picture going to be any bigger than that?" 
 asked McConnell, in a disappointed tone. 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Allan; " that is only to show where 
 the picture will come on the plate back here. It's 
 only a miniature of the real picture." 
 
 " And it isn't upside down, either," remarked Mc 
 Connell, peering into the little opening at the top of 
 the box. 
 
 "Somebody told me," said Allan, "that was because 
 there was a little piece of looking-glass on the inside 
 that twisted the thing around." 
 
 Presently they found that by opening a lid and 
 looking through the box from the back the real image 
 from the lens fell on the " focussing glass," this time 
 upside down. 
 
 McConnell laughed. " That always seems so funny." 
 He twisted his head in an effort to get a natural view
 
 The Coming of the Camera. 21 
 
 of the room on the glass. Then he ran across the 
 room and stood on his head against the wall. 
 
 " Do I look right side up now ? " he demanded of 
 Allan. 
 
 " Yes," laughed Allan, peering into the box. < You 
 look right side up, but 
 you don't look very 
 natural." 
 
 "Suppose you 
 turned the camera up 
 side down," suggested 
 McConnell, coming 
 back. 
 
 Allan laughed again. 
 "I'm afraid that 
 wouldn't do any good," 
 and he turned the 
 camera to show Mc 
 Connell that the pict 
 ure was still hopelessly 
 inverted. 
 
 McConnell thought 
 that he liked the 
 " finder " picture bet 
 ter. " It's too bad," 
 he said, " that it isn't 
 bigger." 
 
 Allan had been read- 
 
 " ' Do I look right side up now?' 1 
 
 ing about cameras. " There are special cameras, he 
 said, " that have finders on top as large as the focus 
 sing glasses at the back." 
 
 McConnell thought that he would like one ot that 
 
 "'what's the use?" asked Allan. "The little
 
 22 Captain Kodak. 
 
 finder tells you just what you are going to get. It's 
 the picture boiled down well!" Allan shook the 
 box. " I hope something hasn't broken already." A 
 rattling sound came from the inside of the box. 
 
 " Maybe it was broken in the express," ventured 
 McConnell. But investigation proved that the rattling 
 sound was produced by a loose screw under the front 
 cover of the box, which the directions showed was to 
 be used when the camera was placed on legs. 
 
 Having opened the front of the box to make this 
 investigation, Allan was now able to closely examine 
 the lens. 
 
 "That's the diaphragm," said Allan, pointing to the 
 disk of metal protruding from the barrel of the lens. 
 
 "The what?" 
 
 " Diaphragm," repeated Allan. 
 
 " How do you spell it ? " 
 
 " I don't think I can spell it. What do you always 
 want to spell things for ? It begins with a d-i-a and 
 then gets all mixed up ho, here it is in the direc 
 tions, if you must spell it ' d-i-a-p-h-r-a-g-m.' " 
 
 "What does it do?" 
 
 Allan was turning the disk. "Look," he said; and 
 they saw that the diaphragm had three holes in it, 
 and that any one of these holes could be brought 
 opposite the centre of the lens. 
 
 " I don't see how anything could possibly get 
 through that ! " exclaimed McConnell, staring at the 
 smallest opening. 
 
 " Why," said Allan, " Owen says you can photo 
 graph through a pinhole with a pinhole, I think 
 he said." 
 
 " He didn't mean without a lens, did he ? " de 
 manded McConnell, incredulously.
 
 The Coming of the Camera. 23 
 
 " That's an old trick, McConnell," said Dr. Hartel 
 in the doorway. " I photographed with a pinhole 
 when I was a lad." 
 
 " You did ! " cried Allan. {: You never told me 
 about it." 
 
 " I don't see how the picture ever squeezes 
 through," said McConnell. 
 
 " Light is wonderful," mused Allan, prying further 
 into the box. 
 
 "Everything in nature is wonderful," said the Doc 
 tor " when you come to know about it. Your lens 
 is wonderful, but not more wonderful than the hole 
 among the leaves of a tree that photographs the sun 
 on the ground underneath. It isn't any more won 
 derful than the way the plate catches and keeps the 
 image." 
 
 " The plate ! " repeated Allan. " I had forgotten 
 about that ! We can't make pictures unless we have 
 something to make them on." 
 
 " I suppose you can get them at the photog 
 rapher's, can't you ? " asked the Doctor, examining 
 the camera. 
 
 " Wincher's stationery store sells cameras," said 
 McConnell, " and I guess they sell plates too." 
 
 Every little matter associated with the camera had 
 an exciting interest for the boys that day. McConnell 
 came around in the evening after Allan had run down 
 to the stationer's to get a package of plates. 
 
 " Open by ruby light only," read Allan on the 
 box. 
 
 "Yes," said the Doctor, "you'll have to think about 
 your dark room." 
 
 " The dark room ! " This seemed like one of the 
 most interesting things about the whole affair.
 
 24 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " Though the box might have said, ' by ruby light 
 or no light/" replied the Doctor. "There is no 
 
 objection to your opening it by no light if you want 
 
 . 
 to. 
 
 " But we couldn't see," protested McConnell. 
 " You could feel, though," the Doctor explained. 
 " An old photographer told me that he always preferred 
 to load his plate-holders in the dark. He trusted his 
 touch with no light more than he did with a weak 
 red light with which he sometimes let his eyes deceive 
 him." 
 
 " Deceive him how ? " asked Allan. 
 " By letting him get a plate wrong side up." 
 " Oh ! " said Allan. He hadn't thought to consider 
 that the plates had a right and a wrong side. 
 
 " When you come to open your box," then the 
 Doctor paused a moment. " Suppose, boys, that we 
 go and load the plate-holders. We'll go up to your 
 room, Allan." 
 
 " But how about the ruby light ? " 
 " Oh, we shall soon fix that. Where is your bicycle 
 lamp ?" 
 
 Allan fetched the well-worn headlight of his wheel, 
 and when it was lighted, the boys remarked that the 
 side glasses were a rich red. 
 
 " But what shall we do with the front glass ? " and 
 Allan struggled to think of some way to color the 
 front glass. 
 
 " Wait a moment," said the Doctor. " You will get 
 a regular ruby lamp if you need one, but I think I 
 can show you an emergency method of using any lamp 
 of this sort." He found a piece of reddish powder- 
 wrapper in his chemical closet, and this he fastened 
 over the front of the lantern ; then taking a larger
 
 The Coming of the Camera. 25 
 
 sheet of manila paper he made a cylinder of this 
 about the size of an ordinary Chinese lantern. 
 
 " That," he said, " is a safety shield to keep out any 
 rays of white light that may escape from any of these 
 smaller ventilating holes of the lamp." The Doctor 
 placed the lamp inside the shield. " Yellow paper is 
 the next best shield to red. They got along with yel 
 low light when photographic plates were less sensitive. 
 Now they often use both yellow and red glass in com 
 bination. Well, I guess we are ready to load up." 
 
 Allan led the procession up to his room, carrying 
 the plate-holders there were four of these and the 
 lamp. McConnell came next with the manila paper 
 shield, and the Doctor followed in the rear with the 
 box of plates. On the way the procession met Mrs. 
 Hartel who had been putting little Ellen to bed. 
 
 " What is this strange procession ? " she cried. 
 
 " This is the kodak contingent," laughed the Doctor; 
 " a company of kodakers just going into camp." 
 
 " And you, Allan, are you the captain ? " asked Mrs. 
 Hartel. 
 
 " Yes," the Doctor replied for him, " he is the captain 
 Captain Kodak ; that is quite a good name for him 
 now." 
 
 " Well," Mrs. Hartel called after them, " I hope 
 you will always preserve good order in your camps 
 and especially great cleanliness. You know what I 
 mean by that, Harry," Mrs. Hartel said to the Doctor. 
 " I don't want any chemicals on the bed-spread." 
 
 " Oh, we're going out to the stable to do that," 
 Allan called back. 
 
 " To do what ? put chemicals on the bed-spread? " 
 
 " No, no ! " expostulated Allan, at the door of his 
 room, "I mean to use the chemicals."
 
 2 6 Captain Kodak. 
 
 They cleared a little table in Allan's room and 
 placed the lamp in the centre of it, with the yellow 
 paper shield in position. A soft, yellowish light filled 
 the room and made the three faces look strangely 
 unusual. 
 
 "This makes me think of a conspiracy," said Allan. 
 
 " Or three robbers in a cave," said McConnell. 
 
 " Now, you understand, boys, that I don't really 
 know very much about photography," said the Doctor. 
 " When I was studying medicine I had a room-mate 
 who was a photographic crank, and I once saw him do 
 something of this sort, though he used a small stable 
 lantern with a red bandanna handkerchief tied about it. 
 This ought to be much safer, and it needs to be, for 
 plates are much more sensitive, even to red and yellow 
 light, than they used to be. I suppose that some day 
 they will make photographic plates so sensitive that we 
 shall have to develop them absolutely in the dark." 
 
 "That would be harder than loading them in the 
 dark, wouldn't it ? " 
 
 " Decidedly harder. Now, boys, let us get out the 
 plates. Probably I shall do something that I shouldn't 
 do, and you will learn afterward not to do it. But I 
 am better than no help at all, am I not?" the Doctor 
 added laughingly. 
 
 " Yes, indeed"! " Allan admitted. 
 
 The Doctor had used the point of his knife in cutting 
 through the paper in the bottom of the box. Then 
 they found that the plates were hidden in three boxes, 
 one within the other. 
 
 " We must not expose the plates too long even to 
 this faint light," the Doctor remarked, as he opened one 
 of the plate-holders. Then he took out one of the 
 plates and showed the boys that the plate was coated
 
 The Coming of the Camera. 27 
 
 on one side with a yellowish substance ; then, still 
 keeping it in shadow, he let each of the boys feel both 
 surfaces. The coated surface had a smooth feeling. 
 
 " The plain glass side feels sticky, doesn't it ? " said 
 McConnell. 
 
 "In the dark," said the Doctor, " you can easily tell 
 the difference, though you should always feel the plates 
 near the margin, because the moisture of the ringers 
 may leave a stain that will afterward appear in the 
 developed plate. My chum once photographed me 
 sitting by the window, and a ringer mark which fell 
 on my face that is to say, on which my face fell, 
 for I think the carelessness was before the picture was 
 taken made me look like a very disreputable citizen 
 indeed. My chum said I looked like a surprised 
 pirate. Now, if you know how a surprised pirate 
 looks, you can fancy my appearance. But usually 
 you won't need to feel the plates to place them prop 
 erly, for each maker packs his plates in a certain way. 
 This maker packs them face to face. That, I should 
 judge, is the usual way, now. And here goes for the 
 plate-holders." 
 
 When the plate-holders each had their two plates in 
 position, back to back, the Doctor said it would be well 
 to remember that the four remaining plates in the 
 package must not be confused with the others when 
 the time came for developing or changing plates. But, 
 he added, " I know well enough that you will have to 
 make all these mistakes to know how to avoid them." 
 
 " Did you do that with your prescriptions, father ? " 
 asked Allan, with a grin that was not concealed even 
 by the half darkness. 
 
 What the Doctor might have answered it is hard to 
 say, for just then Mrs. Hartel knocked at the door
 
 28 Captain Kodak. 
 
 to say that Owen had come. In fact, Owen was then 
 at the door. 
 
 " Come in," called the Doctor, the plate box being 
 safely closed. 
 
 " Hello, Owen," shouted Allan from behind the 
 lantern. "I didn't go after you because I thought 
 it was your night at the Choral." 
 
 "There wasn't any meeting to-night," Owen said, 
 " and I just happened to hear from Cheney that you 
 had a camera. What is it?" 
 
 " A Wizard," said Allan, " and a little beauty. 
 I wish it was daylight. I hate to wait until to 
 morrow." 
 
 " What kind of a lamp is that ? " asked Owen, 
 puzzled by the object on the table. 
 
 " That," replied the Doctor, smiling at the group of 
 boys, " is the famous Hartel Adjustable Lamp." 
 
 Owen saw the joke. 
 
 " I suppose we'll fix up something better in the 
 stable," said Allan. 
 
 "In the stable ? " Owen looked interested. " That's 
 a good idea. Won't you let me see your Wizard ? " 
 
 They all trooped downstairs again. " Here come 
 the kodakers ! " cried McConnell. There they found 
 Mrs. Hartel and Edith Coles, Allan's cousin, study 
 ing the camera by the sitting-room lamp. Edith was 
 an orphan niece of Mrs. Hartel who had been a mem 
 ber of the Hartel household for six years. She was 
 now of about Allan's age, and always was much in 
 terested in everything that Allan did. Returning 
 from the home of a girl friend where she had been 
 spending the afternoon and early evening, she was as 
 much delighted over the camera as if it were some 
 good fortune of her own.
 
 ' And is it all loaded and ready ? ' asked Edith
 
 The Corning of the Camera. 31 
 
 " I want to be a kodaker, too ! " she exclaimed laugh 
 ingly in response to McConnell's jubilant announce 
 ment. 
 
 " I guess Allan will let you join his company," the 
 Doctor said. 
 
 Owen was called upon as the most experienced in 
 new cameras to tell Edith and the rest all about the 
 Wizard ; to explain the focussing scale, which Dr. 
 Hartel said Captain Kodak really should call a 
 "range-finder"; to point out features of the shutter, 
 through which the picture could jump in the fraction 
 of a second, or which could be set so that a long 
 exposure might be given when there was not suf 
 ficient light for a "snap shot"; to show the action of 
 the slides in the plate-holders, the use of the dia 
 phragm, and more other things about the camera 
 than you would have supposed could be said about 
 a box so small and innocent looking. 
 
 " And is it all loaded and ready ? " asked Edith, 
 looking down at Allan and McConnell, who were 
 bending over the camera in some new investigation. 
 
 " Yes," said Allan. 
 
 " It is a pity not to be able to try it now in some 
 way." 
 
 " Edith," remonstrated Mrs. Hartel, " you are 
 always impatient." 
 
 " Well," said the Doctor, " I guess they all are I 
 think I am myself. The only difference is that Edith 
 speaks out." 
 
 " You could make a flash light," Owen suggested. 
 
 At this moment the clatter of a bell could be heard 
 in the adjacent street and some one ran rapidly past 
 the house. 
 
 " A fire ! " shouted McConnell.
 
 32 Captain Kodak. 
 
 There was a pause during which every one listened 
 breathlessly. Allan and McConnell were already at 
 the gate. "It is a fire!" Allan reported in a mo 
 ment, " over by the East Church." 
 
 " There is something to photograph ! " exclaimed 
 the Doctor. 
 
 " Could I ? " cried Allan, with an appealing look to 
 Owen, " at night ? " 
 
 " Why, I should think night was a good time to 
 photograph fire," Edith declared. 
 
 " It has been done," Owen admitted. 
 
 " I'll try it ! " Allan caught up the camera. " Won't 
 you come, Owen, and help ? " 
 
 They all were at the door in a moment. 
 
 " Allan ! " called the Doctor. " You've forgotten 
 your hat ! " 
 
 " Be careful where you go," warned Mrs. Hartel, 
 as she pressed the hat on the boy's head with a 
 motherly firmness.
 
 II. 
 
 THE FIRE. 
 
 EDITH at the gate 
 could see the three 
 boys running in the 
 direction of the red light 
 in the sky. Allan, in the 
 lead, was hugging the cam 
 era under his arm. There 
 was a sound of many feet, 
 a murmur of excitement 
 in the air, and distant 
 hoarse shouts. A huge 
 roll of black smoke drifted 
 off to the north. 
 
 " I believe it's the fac 
 tory," said the Doctor, at 
 Edith's shoulder. " Let 
 us go too, Edith." 
 
 Edith did not wait for 
 a second invitation. She had been longing to follow 
 the boys, and had hurried upstairs for her hat and 
 was again in the hall before the Doctor had reached 
 for his cane. 
 
 " Margaret," called the Doctor to Mrs. Hartel, 
 "perhaps you wish me to take you." 
 
 " No, indeed," said Mrs. Hartel. " I'm afraid I 
 D 33
 
 34 Captain Kodak. 
 
 don't appreciate the fun of fires. I had rather have 
 all of you tell me about it." 
 
 " We shall ! " cried Edith from the walk. 
 
 It was as the Doctor expected. Flames had broken 
 out in the southern wing of the factory. The eastern 
 windows on the first floor of the wing showed an 
 orange-red glare that made Edith think of the re 
 flected light on window-panes when the sun is going 
 down. The flames evidently had passed through to 
 the second floor and were creeping eastward, though 
 the dense masses of smoke made it difficult at times 
 to tell precisely what parts of the building were ac 
 tually burning. 
 
 The Hazenfield engines were hard at work. The 
 ground trembled with the thump, thump, thump of 
 the steam pumps, the black figures of the firemen 
 scurried this way and that with many confused 
 shouts, while the inky line of the hose twisted its 
 way to the wing door of the factory. 
 
 It was at the wing door that some men were carry 
 ing out certain heavy cans which they placed at some 
 distance from the burning building. These men were 
 dripping with the hose water, the light of the flames 
 glittering on their clothes and faces. 
 
 " Why don't they pour the water through the win 
 dows ? " cried Edith. 
 
 " Because they know they can't save the wing," re 
 plied the Doctor; " they don't want to increase the 
 draught by breaking the windows before the heat 
 destroys the glass, and they are fighting indoors to 
 keep the flames from spreading to the main building." 
 
 Almost as the Doctor spoke four of the upper 
 story windows blew out, a rush of flame following 
 and mounting high over the roof.
 
 The Fire. 35 
 
 " There ! " exclaimed Edith, " they must pour in 
 the water now ! " 
 
 " Why, you almost seem glad, Edith," said the 
 Doctor. 
 
 "Well," pleaded Edith, "it seems so foolish not to 
 pour the water where most of the fire is." 
 
 Two streams of water now leaped up to the open 
 windows and sizzled and snorted under the blazing 
 
 D 
 
 eaves. The flames greeted the serpents of water with 
 a howl of rage and defiance, and fresh clouds of smoke 
 arose at the places where they fought together. 
 
 " I wonder where the boys are ? " queried Edith. 
 
 The Doctor had been wondering the same thing. 
 
 In a great circle about the burning factory were the 
 faces of the spectators gleaming in the firelight. The 
 stillness of the crowd was astonishing. The crackle 
 of the flames could be heard with a strange distinct 
 ness, and the hoarse voice of the engine foreman 
 sounded clear above all other voices. Only when 
 the window-glass fell out or some other fresh event of 
 this kind happened, did the crowd make a noticeable 
 sound. Then there would be a general murmur 
 running completely around the circle. 
 
 If the Doctor and Edith could have seen more dis 
 tinctly in the uncertain light the embankment to the 
 south of the burning wing, where the crowd was 
 thinnest, they would have discovered Allan and his 
 two companions grouped closely in earnest consulta 
 tion. 
 
 As he had been running to the fire it had seemed 
 very odd and foolish to Allan to be carrying the 
 camera, and when they actually reached the scene of 
 the fire the carrying of the camera seemed even more 
 foolish than before. Yet it certainly made the whole
 
 36 Captain Kodak. 
 
 affair seem more like an adventure to have the camera 
 along. It seemed like going armed. 
 
 " Phew ! " ejaculated McConnell, " it's going to 
 be a whopper ! It's all blazing inside ! Come over 
 here ! " 
 
 " Let's go around to where the engines are," sug 
 gested Allan. 
 
 " Here's a good place ! " Owen called, pointing to 
 the embankment. 
 
 The three boys clambered up the embankment in an 
 excitement which only a fire can call out. 
 
 Allan's first thought was of the camera. " Do you 
 think I might try a snap ? " he asked Owen. 
 
 " I should try one snap," Owen suggested, "just 
 as an experiment, and then try one or two seconds' 
 time." 
 
 Allan fixed his " range-finder," as Doctor Hartel 
 had called it, for the full distance, which made the 
 focus accurate at fifty feet and beyond. 
 
 " Wait a moment ! " cried McConnell, " it isn't 
 blazing high now." 
 
 Allan was locating the factory in his " finder." 
 Nothing but spots of fire were visible there. Mc 
 Connell was eager for a glimpse of the little picture. 
 
 Presently Allan said, " I guess I'll snap it now, 
 Owen ! " and he pressed the trigger. 
 
 " That'll be great ! " McConnell exclaimed. 
 
 " Did you draw the slide ? " Owen asked. 
 
 Allan looked stupid. " No," he confessed, " I 
 didn't." Then he opened the box, drew the slide 
 that hid a plate, set his shutter again, Owen stooped 
 forward to see that the front opening was uncovered, 
 and Allan pressed the trigger once more. 
 
 " This time I guess we caught it ! " Allan said.
 
 'Wait a moment!' cried McConnell."
 
 The Fire. 39 
 
 Owen now advised that they rest the camera on a 
 large stone for making the " time exposure," and he 
 assisted Allan in setting the shutter so that the expo 
 sure could be made by opening and closing the slid 
 ing front of the box. Each moment the building 
 became more brilliantly lighted. The flames had 
 stolen across the end of the wing from east to west, 
 and when Allan opened the little door for two seconds 
 McConnell quickly counted five in the same space 
 of time the main floor was more than half swept 
 by the fire. 
 
 The efforts of the firemen to keep the fire in the 
 wing seemed likely to succeed, though they could not 
 have succeeded had there been any wind, particularly 
 had there been a wind from the south. It was excit 
 ing to watch the battle between fire and water the 
 fire leaping blindly hither and thither like a wild beast; 
 the water guided by skilful men who stood at their 
 posts with hats pulled low to keep the blistering heat 
 out of their faces. 
 
 While the boys were preparing for a third shot, the 
 flames came streaming through a hole in the roof near 
 the cornice, and fluttered like a great yellow banner 
 thirty or forty feet long. 
 
 a Now ! " screamed McConnell in great excitement, 
 " there's a picture for you ! " 
 
 Allan pressed the trigger, and not a moment too 
 soon, for a stream of water struck the opening in the 
 roof, and the great golden banner of fire shrank rap 
 idly and finally disappeared in clouds of steam and 
 smoke. The boys found it hard to watch the fire and 
 not wish that the firemen would place the streams in 
 some spot they seemed to have overlooked. It was 
 like watching a man paint a fence or hoe a garden.
 
 4 o 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 There were places which up to the last moment 
 seemed likely to be forgotten altogether. 
 
 This was particularly true of a little river of fire 
 in the cornice which slowly crept along until it seemed 
 on the point of reaching the main building. 
 
 " I wonder why they don't put out that place in 
 the cornice," Allan said impatiently ; " I'm sure they 
 don't see that." 
 
 Owen and McConnell had both noticed this stealthy 
 movement of the fire. 
 
 " I almost feel like going over and telling them," 
 said McConnell. " If they don't hurry it'll surely 
 catch the main roof." 
 
 Then swish ! came No. 2 engine's hose, and the 
 little stream of fire instantly disappeared. 
 
 " Probably they know what they are about after 
 all," admitted Allan. 
 
 "The spots of fire."
 
 The Fire, 
 
 "The flames came streaming through a hole in the roof." 
 
 Owen laughed. " But I think, McConnell, you 
 ought to go over and give them the advantage of 
 your advice." 
 
 All three were sitting on the edge of the embank 
 ment watching the waning fire, when a voice in the 
 darkness called, " Hello, boys ! " 
 
 It was Dr. Hartel and Edith. "We have been 
 looking for you everywhere," said the Doctor. " We 
 watched for three boys in a bunch." 
 
 " Yes," laughed Edith, " there were different size 
 bunches, and when we saw a bunch of three " 
 
 " With a black box," put in the Doctor. 
 
 " with a black box, we knew it was you." 
 
 " We have made three pictures of the fire," said 
 Allan. 
 
 "You mean three exposures, don't you, Allan?" 
 the Doctor asked, with his teasing smile. " Better
 
 42 Captain Kodak. 
 
 wait until after the developing before talking about 
 pictures." 
 
 "Anyway," persisted McConnell, "it was aimed 
 right, and I heard it click." 
 
 " And I saw that the front door was open," laughed 
 Owen. 
 
 " And the slide out," added Allan. 
 
 "Of course," said Owen, "I don't suppose there 
 will be much on the plates but the flames." 
 
 " It is getting chilly, Edith," said the Doctor, after 
 a time. c< I guess that you and I had better stroll 
 home. They have the thing under control now. 
 Don't stay too long, boys." 
 
 The Doctor had not gone far when Allan came 
 running after them to say that Owen had suggested 
 using some of his developer for the plates, and that 
 he was to bring his dark-room lamp with him. " We 
 are going to begin up to the coach-house to-night." 
 
 " To-night ? " repeated the Doctor. 
 
 " Yes," returned Allan, " it's only half-past nine, and 
 Owen says we can do it all in an hour." 
 
 And so, after waiting about fifteen minutes longer, 
 until the fire had dwindled to a point at which the fire 
 chief saw only an hour's work ahead of him before 
 leaving the blackened wing of the factory to the care 
 of the watchman, the boys started for 'Owen's and 
 were not long in starting back eagerly for the coach 
 house.
 
 III. 
 
 UNDER THE RED LAMP. 
 
 A 
 
 BOVE the stalls in 
 Dr. Hartel's stable 
 were three rooms, 
 in one of which a coach 
 man used to sleep in the 
 days when the place had 
 been used by Judge Sol- 
 ling. The two other 
 rooms were only partly 
 finished. In one of these 
 was a sink with running 
 
 o 
 
 water, which had long 
 been marked in Allan's 
 fancy as the focal point 
 of the dark room. 
 
 " We can't fix any 
 thing here to-night," said 
 Owen. 
 
 " Of course not," ad 
 mitted Allan. 
 
 Owen had carried over 
 two trays, " one for de 
 veloping and the other for fixing," and at his sugges 
 tion Allan procured an " agate iron " tray from the 
 kitchen to wash the plates in. " Mind you fetch it 
 back ! " said Nora. 
 
 43
 
 44 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " Is it dark enough here ? " asked Allan, turning 
 to the back windows. 
 
 " Yes," answered Owen ; " but in the daytime you 
 would have to cover up the windows in some way, and 
 keep the daylight in the front rooms from getting in 
 around these doors." 
 
 Meanwhile Owen, in the red light of his lamp, was 
 fussing with two bottles, a proceeding which excited 
 the greatest interest on the part of the two other boys. 
 Allan often had seen his father make chemical experi 
 ments, and he had seen Owen develop once before; 
 but he was not a photographer then, and had not 
 watched each motion with the same feeling of concern 
 and anticipation. 
 
 " I forgot my graduate," Owen complained. 
 
 " Shall I get one of father's ? " asked Allan. 
 
 " No, I can guess the amount pretty well in this old 
 glass." 
 
 Owen poured from each of his bottles, and then 
 added water from the tap, inspected the trays critically, 
 and turned the flame of the lamp a little lower. 
 " Now," he said, " we are all ready." 
 
 " Ship ahoy ! " came a voice from the stable stairs. 
 It was the Doctor. 
 
 " Can't we come ? " That was Edith. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! Come right up ! " shouted Allan, run 
 ning to the head of the stairs to pilot the newcomers, 
 "though I don't know where you are going to sit 
 we haven't any chairs." 
 
 " Oh, we shan't mind that ! " said the Doctor. 
 
 "We are just ready," said Owen. 
 
 Allan thought it was good of Owen to say " we," 
 for he himself had taken but small part in the impor 
 tant preparations.
 
 Under the Red Lamp. 45 
 
 " I hope this won't make you nervous, Owen," the 
 Doctor said. " I don't know that I should want to 
 perform an operation with so many onlookers." 
 
 " I may not do the right thing," Owen confessed ; 
 " but I only know how to do the one thing, anyway, 
 and that is to pour on the developer and let the thing 
 
 g" 
 
 The Doctor laughed quietly. " I see," he said, 
 
 "you administer the medicine and let nature do the 
 rest. After all, that is the about the most any of us 
 can do." 
 
 " Now," asked Allan, " do you want one of the 
 plates ? " He had been standing with the plate-holders 
 in his hand. 
 
 " Yes," Owen answered, " we're all ready." 
 
 They opened a holder and took out one of the 
 plates. Owen placed the plate in one of the trays, 
 poured his developing mixture over it, and began 
 gently to rock the tray, the spectators crowding about 
 him in a semicircle. 
 
 " Of course," said Owen, " it may be a long time 
 coming up." Presently he added, " It may be very 
 much under-exposed, you know." 
 
 At the end of five minutes the plate remained 
 obstinately free from any sign of an image. 
 
 " I don't see a thing," said Edith. 
 
 " But, Edith ! " expostulated Allan, " it sometimes 
 takes a long while." 
 
 " I think I have done the thing right," murmured 
 Owen, in perplexity. Then he suddenly turned to 
 Allan. " Say, which one of the plates is this ? " 
 
 Allan's face took on a queer look in the red light. 
 " I don't know," he answered blankly. It had not oc 
 curred to him before. " I know we didn't double any."
 
 46 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " I hope not," Owen interposed anxiously. 
 
 " But I forgot to turn the holder-slides over to 
 show which had been exposed." 
 
 "Well," said Owen, "we'll have to try them until 
 we find the three exposed ones. You had the four 
 holders in the box ? " 
 
 " Yes," asserted Allan, " eight plates." 
 
 At the end of another five minutes, Owen said, 
 " I'm sure this can't be one of the exposed plates," 
 and, with a last flip of the developer, he took the plate 
 out and placed it on the shelf over the sink. 
 
 " And can't you use it again ? " asked Edith, sym 
 pathetically. 
 
 Owen shook his head. " No. That one's done 
 for. Now," he added, " let us try one of the others." 
 
 " I'm sure this is one," said Allan, repentantly. 
 He felt as if he had made a bad blunder on his first 
 photographic expedition. " I remember now which 
 way I carried the holders," and he handed Owen an 
 other plate. 
 
 The semicircle of faces drew about Owen's shoul 
 ders again. It seemed a long while to wait, while 
 Owen rocked the tray affectionately, as if it were a 
 cradle, and Allan's spirits had begun to fall, when 
 McConnell cried, "There's something! " 
 
 " It's just a spot on the plate," said Edith. 
 
 Owen shook the tray as if to dislodge something 
 from the plate. " Why, there are several of them ! " 
 he cried. " They must be the windows of the 
 factory ! " 
 
 " Hooray ! " shouted McConnell. 
 
 " Black windows? " asked Edith, perplexed. 
 
 " It is the fire," said the doctor. " Light objects 
 make a black image on the plate. That is why they
 
 Under the Red Lamp. 47 
 
 can print from the negative. Daguerre made a posi 
 tive a natural image on a metal plate which could 
 not be duplicated. That was a daguerreotype. The 
 English inventor of photography made negatives first 
 on paper and then on glass. These could be used for 
 making any number of positives or prints." 
 
 " I see," said Edith, her eyes on the plate. " Is 
 anything more coming, Owen ? " 
 
 " Yes," said McConnell, " more little spots, and 
 they are getting blacker. I think I see some flames 
 shooting up." 
 
 But Owen did not seem very sanguine. " It doesn't 
 seem to come out very well," he mused. " I guess 
 this one is the snap shot." 
 
 " Then there will be more on the two others ! " 
 cried Allan, hopefully. 
 
 They all were greatly interested to think that the 
 other plates might have more on them. Owen's guess 
 proved quite correct. The other plates from the same 
 holder came up in a much shorter time. 
 
 " Why, yes ! " Edith exclaimed. " You can see the 
 
 window-sash plainly, and the fire is spreading in this 
 
 a 
 one. 
 
 " You are right, Edith," said the Doctor. " There 
 are flames in several more of the windows here than in 
 the other plates. And I can see faint outlines of the 
 building here and there and what looks like a 
 
 O 
 
 stream of water, lighted up by the fire, in another 
 
 i 
 place. 
 
 " And so we have something after all ! " Allan said, 
 jubilantly. 
 
 The third plate displayed the fire at its worst, when 
 the flames broke through the roof, and they were all 
 watching the growth of the image under the soft
 
 48 Captain Kodak. 
 
 swish of the developer when a sharp rap sounded 
 on the stable door at the foot of the stairs. 
 
 " A call, uncle," said Edith, resentfully. " They 
 always want you when we want you, don't they ? " 
 
 The Doctor went to the door, and he could be 
 heard talking in a low tone for some moments. 
 Then he said, " Good night ! " and came up again 
 quickly. 
 
 " Didn't you have to go ? " asked Edith. 
 
 " Here's something extraordinary, Allan ! " the 
 Doctor exclaimed ; " the factory company wants your 
 negatives ! " 
 
 " My negatives ! " Allan looked amazed. 
 
 " The fire pictures ? " asked McConnell, staring at 
 the Doctor. 
 
 " Yes. The superintendent has just told me that 
 there is a possibility that the fire was started by an in 
 cendiary. But there is another question in fact, they 
 are both bound up together. It appears that those 
 cans we saw them taking out contained naphtha, and 
 that the naphtha was there without special permission 
 from the insurance people. But the factory people 
 say the fire started at some distance from the 
 naphtha, and they have the evidence of eye-witnesses 
 that it did start there. Moreover, they rescued every 
 can containing naphtha. The cans were untouched and 
 intact. Yet there will be a controversy, and the fac 
 tory people, having heard that photographs of the fire 
 were taken, the superintendent thinks they might be 
 first-class corroborative evidence that the fire started 
 on the east side of the wing, the side opposite the 
 storage place of the naphtha, would head off any 
 trouble with the insurance people." 
 
 "Well, well !" was all Allan could say.
 
 "It was the superintendent.
 
 Under the Red Lamp. 51 
 
 " It did start on the east side," declared Edith. 
 " We all saw it." 
 
 " And the camera saw it," added McConnell, with 
 great conviction. 
 
 Owen's hands were trembling a little. " I mustn't 
 drop this now," he muttered. 
 
 Then there was a rattle at the door below, and a 
 step on the stair. 
 
 As the Doctor started forward again a man's head 
 appeared above the stair rail. It was the superin 
 tendent. His eyes blinked in an unaccustomed light. 
 For a moment he did not seem to be able to make out 
 the situation. 
 
 " I say, Doctor," said the superintendent. " I'd 
 like to be able to say to our president that we have 
 secured these negatives. I'll send you a check for 
 fifty dollars if you'll say they're ours." 
 
 " What do you say, Allan ? " asked the Doctor, 
 turning about. 
 
 Had it not been for the red light Allan probably 
 would have looked very white in the face. 
 
 " I suppose they can have them ? " said the Doctor 
 when Allan did not seem to find words. " You will 
 be glad that they can be so useful, and how much did 
 you say, Mr. Superintendent?" the Doctor went on, 
 with an enjoyment of Allan's agreeable stupefaction. 
 
 " Fifty dollars," repeated the superintendent. 
 " They'll be worth that to the company. Anyway, 
 I'll risk making that offer. And I want the thing 
 understood. Is it a go ? " 
 
 " Oh, you can have them ! " Allan said. And the 
 superintendent repeated his " Good night ! " shuffled 
 his way cautiously down the dark stairs and was 
 gone.
 
 52 Captain Kodak. 
 
 No one said a word until the superintendent closed 
 the door below. 
 
 " Fifty dollars ! " was all Allan said. 
 
 " I hope they come out well," said Owen, fervently. 
 
 " I wish I could help," murmured Edith. 
 
 " I think that Dr. Owen is doing the best that could 
 be done with the patients," laughed Dr. Hartel. 
 
 Then McConnell spoke up. " Gee whiz, Allan, 
 you can buy a folding cartridge camera now ! "
 
 IV. 
 
 AN ILL-KEPT SECRET. 
 
 THE visit of the 
 factory superin 
 tendent gave a 
 new excitement to fur 
 ther work on the nega 
 tives. 
 
 " We certainly shall 
 have to be very care 
 ful of them now," said 
 Allan. 
 
 " Yes," said Mc- 
 Connell, " they are 
 worth $16.66 apiece 
 oh, yes, and a frac 
 tion ! " 
 
 " Just to think ! " 
 Edith exclaimed, "that 
 this strange thing should happen on the very first 
 night you have your camera." 
 
 Owen was holding the third negative between his 
 eyes and the lamp. " This is quite good," he said. 
 
 "Yes," Allan remarked. "And you deserve all 
 the credit. We'll have to share the prize money." 
 
 " No, no ! " Owen answered to this. " You could 
 have done it all without me. It was simple enough." 
 
 53
 
 54 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " It is simple enough when you know how, isn't 
 it ? " laughed the Doctor. " Well, Allan, we'll have to 
 leave you with your prize plates. Mind you wash 
 them carefully. If they are to be used as evidence 
 they shouldn't have any questionable spots on them 
 anywhere. To be 'sure a flaw could be distinguished 
 from a genuine light impression, unless it was a dis 
 coloration in the emulsion. That's the reason the 
 negatives themselves are better evidence than the 
 prints from the negatives. The negatives could be 
 tinkered so as to show fire in every window, I sup 
 pose. But the negatives themselves would show that 
 this had been done. So many tricks can be done in 
 photography that I don't suppose that a photograph in 
 itself could even be offered as proof. But it is pretty 
 good corroborative evidence when you have the 
 negative." 
 
 " That is what this would be, isn't it ? " asked 
 Edith, " corroborative evidence ? " 
 
 " I presume so, if the matter goes so far. They 
 probably can prove by eye-witnesses that the fire 
 started on the east side of the wing, at least I should 
 think so ; but the camera will be a first-rate supple 
 mentary witness. We can testify that it was abso 
 lutely impartial." 
 
 " Good fellow," murmured Edith, patting the 
 camera as if it were her dog Sandy. 
 
 After the Doctor and Edith had gone Owen and 
 Allan stood the three plates in a bucket and placed 
 the bucket under the tap. 
 
 " That's as good a washing-box as any," Owen 
 said, " when you have only three plates." 
 
 While the water overflowed from the bucket into 
 the sink the three boys sat on some boxes that were
 
 An Ill-kept Secret. 55 
 
 stored in the room, and talked of the fire, and the 
 camera, and picture-making, and Owen related some 
 of the things that happened to him. 
 
 "The first pictures I ever made," he said, "were 
 of a railroad train. I took one of the train coming up 
 the track, and one when it was going by. I got them 
 both on the one plate, and it was the worst smash-up 
 you ever saw." 
 
 " I suppose every one makes doubles," suggested 
 Allan. 
 
 " Oh, yes, they say that even big photographers do 
 it sometimes. And it is rough ! You see you only 
 make one mistake and lose two pictures." 
 
 " It doesn't seem fair, does it ? " mused McConnell, 
 rather sleepily. McConnell usually went to bed at 
 nine. 
 
 When the plates had been immersed in the flowing 
 water for half an hour, Owen stood them on a near-by 
 shelf, resting them against the wall. " They'll be dry 
 in the morning." 
 
 " And then we can make proofs," said Allan. 
 
 Under these circumstances it is not surprising that 
 Allan was up early the next morning and out to the 
 dark room to look at his plates. To his great disap 
 pointment they were not yet dry. The upper floor 
 of the stable was left without ventilation, and the sur 
 faces of the plates were still moist save for a space of 
 half an inch around the edges. 
 
 When Allan consulted his father, Dr. Hartel advised 
 him to open the windows and to place the plates in a 
 current of air. Having done this, Allan started out at 
 once to get the materials for his developing outfit. In 
 view of the fifty dollars that was to come from the 
 plates, Allan thought that he might spend a little more
 
 56 Captain Kodak. 
 
 than he first had intended to spend on his dark room. 
 He determined to divide the money with Owen, but 
 even with twenty-five dollars he could, if he chose, 
 buy a fine new camera and still have money left. 
 
 On his way to Owen, who was going with him to 
 the Hazenfield stationers' where they sold " amateur 
 photographic outfits," Allan met Cheney, who had 
 seen him at the fire with the camera. Allan did not 
 like Cheney ; the truth is, that Cheney did not have 
 a very good reputation in Hazenfield. He had been 
 expelled from the high school, and was what is known 
 as a suspicious and troublesome boy. 
 
 " What were you trying to do ? " demanded Cheney, 
 " photographing in the dark ? " 
 
 " The fire wasn't dark," returned Allan. 
 
 "You don't mean to say that you tried to photo 
 graph the fire ! " 
 
 " Of course I do." 
 
 " Did you get it ? " 
 
 " Of course I did." 
 
 " Well," said Cheney, as if he did not believe the 
 assertion, " I'd like to see 'em." 
 
 " They're not mine to show, now," said Allan, with 
 a pride that he could not conceal, even from Cheney. 
 " I sold them." 
 
 " Sold 'em ! " exclaimed Cheney. " To who ? " 
 
 " To the factory people. There's something about 
 the factory being set afire, and beside that there's some 
 insurance trouble about where the fire started, and 
 they've given me fifty dollars for the plates." 
 
 Cheney gave a long whistle. " Golly ! " he cried. 
 " You're right in it, ain't yer ! Fifty dollars ! I 
 didn't suppose any picture could ever be worth as 
 much as that."
 
 An Ill-kept Secret. c^-j 
 
 " You see," said Allan, " they can use the pictures 
 as proof if there's any trouble." 
 
 " Proof of what ? " Cheney demanded incredu 
 lously. 
 
 " Proof of which side of the wing the fire started." 
 
 Cheney smiled as if this idea was very amusing. 
 " I hope you get it," he said, as Allan went on. 
 
 Allan felt rather sorry to have said anything to 
 Cheney about the sale of the plates. When he came 
 to think the thing over he could see that the factory 
 people, while they had not said so, might not wish to 
 have the matter known. Allan felt, too, as if he had 
 been boasting, even though Cheney had drawn him 
 into the confession. 
 
 He made up his mind not to say a word to any one 
 else, and determined to ask Owen and McConnell not 
 to speak about it. When Owen heard from Allan 
 about his meeting with Cheney and how sorry he was 
 that he had said anything to Cheney, he himself agreed 
 with Allan. 
 
 " I shan't mention it," Owen assured Allan. " I 
 haven't mentioned it to any one but mother. She 
 wondered where I had been, of course. I think you 
 had better speak to McConnell." 
 
 " I shall," said Allan. " Big McConnell would be 
 just the one to spread the thing everywhere." 
 
 " Let us go around to McConnell's now," sug 
 gested Owen, " and tell him about it." 
 
 They found McConnell sitting in a swing in his 
 yard reading a book. " McConnell is always read 
 ing," said Owen. 
 
 " Hello !" called Allan. "What are you reading, 
 McConnell ? I'll bet it is about an Indian, a detec 
 tive, or a princess."
 
 58 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " Wrong," replied McConnell. " It's about a 
 farmer's boy." 
 
 " And what does he get to be? " Owen asked. 
 
 " I don't know yet," McConnell returned. " Maybe 
 a farmer ! " he added, laughing. 
 
 Allan then spoke about the fire and the pictures. 
 
 " I tell you," said McConnell, " I haven't said 
 anything to anybody but the folks at home, and Billy 
 Basset, and the butcher, and yes, and Mr. Han- 
 ford." 
 
 " In that case," said Owen, " I guess we might as 
 well tell the rest of the town." 
 
 "What do you mean ? " McConnell was mystified. 
 
 " Only that I thought that maybe we should keep 
 quiet about selling the pictures." 
 
 " I see," McConnell assented, " until you get the 
 money." 
 
 " Oh, I mean anyway," said Allan. " Perhaps the 
 factory folks may not want everybody to know, and 
 everybody would know if they heard that they had 
 bought the plates." 
 
 " That settles it ! " exclaimed McConnell, " I'll be 
 quiet. I won't even tell the postman, and I always 
 tell him everything. Have you printed the proofs 
 yet ? " 
 
 " No ; the plates aren't dry yet, somehow. We are 
 going down to get the dark-room things, and we shall 
 get some proof paper." 
 
 " I'll go with you," McConnell said, pushing his 
 book under the porch seat. 
 
 Little Artie, McConnell's younger brother, came 
 running around the house. " Take my picture taken," 
 he cried to Allan, who was carrying the camera. 
 
 "It's funny," laughed McConnell, "but Artie al-
 
 McConnell was sitting in a swing."
 
 An Ill-kept Secret. 61 
 
 ways gets it that way. He has heard us say * get your 
 picture taken,' and he always says ' take my picture 
 taken,' or c take your picture taken.' ' 
 
 Artie repeated his request, peering into the finder of 
 Allan's box. . " All right," said Allan. 
 
 " Wait a minute," called McConnell, " wait till I 
 put him on my wheel." Artie was lifted up. " Now," 
 said McConnell. 
 
 Artie started when he heard the click of the shut 
 ter. " Did you take my picture taken ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," Allan laughed, " I took your picture 
 taken." 
 
 " Then let me see it," demanded Artie. 
 
 " Not yet, Artie, to-morrow." 
 
 Artie then went back to a box of sand in which he 
 had been playing. 
 
 It took Allan nearly an hour to complete his 
 purchases. He had the advantage of Owen's advice, 
 in the choice of trays, for instance. Owen had tried 
 lacquered tin, glass, and pressed paper, but liked 
 rubber best. These cost mor,e, but as he only re 
 quired three, two to be used in developing and a 
 larger one, capable of holding four plates, for "fixing," 
 Allan felt that he could afford it, especially with his 
 share of the fifty dollars to come. 
 
 Certainly it was great fun to buy these utensils, and 
 the shining glass graduate, Dr. Hartel had promised 
 Allan a second, large, graduate, as well as a hydrometer 
 and some stopper bottles ; the brass-hinged printing 
 frames, the " hypo " and developing chemicals, and 
 the dark-room lamp. 
 
 At first Allan had thought of building a dark-room 
 light-box, with red cover glass, in which an ordinary 
 small lamp could be placed ; but in view of the
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 "Artie was lifted up." 
 
 probable usefulness o the portable lamp on certain 
 expeditions which he had in mind, he decided to get 
 an ordinary dark-room lamp, and it was a pretty affair. 
 Dr. Hartel had urged Allan to prepare his own 
 developer, at least until he had learned how devel 
 opers were made up and what properties they had. 
 
 All these points had to be talked over, and Mr. 
 Wincher, the stationer, who was an amateur photog 
 rapher himself, and had on that account come to sell 
 photographic supplies as a department in his store, 
 was patient throughout the selection and offered 
 plenty of advice too. 
 
 " Photographers are great fellows for giving advice," 
 laughed the stationer.
 
 An Ill-kept Secret. 63 
 
 " I'll need quite a supply of advice, too," returned 
 Allan. 
 
 Owen and Mr. Wincher did not always agree as to 
 what was best to do. When they agreed on any 
 point Allan was likely to accept their decision. When 
 they did not agree, Allan made the best use he could 
 of their judgment. The truth is that Allan had been 
 reading so much about photography lately that he had 
 made up his mind on a great many points. Dr. 
 Hartel had told him that he must experiment on his 
 own account. " What you will learn from these ex 
 periments," he said, " may be worth more to you than 
 the pictures. You must try and learn something from 
 each experiment. This is the only way you will ever 
 really know a thing. We act on the best advice we 
 can get to begin with ; then we prove to ourselves 
 that what has been said is true or not true or, may 
 be, that it is partly true and partly not true. An 
 Englishman once said that he would like photography 
 better if it weren't for the pictures. He was taking a 
 scientific view of the matter. He liked the chemical 
 fun better than the picture fun. I think you will not 
 like the picture fun any the less for taking an interest 
 in the chemistry, and the better your chemistry the 
 more you are likely to find to enjoy in your pictures. 
 But chemistry will give you many disappointments. 
 In any case, you will have disappointments and they 
 will do you good." 
 
 As the boys were all eager to see proofs of the 
 fire negatives, they hurried back to the stable with 
 their bundles, McConnell asking leave to carry the 
 camera. 
 
 " There is one thing I like about this sort of print 
 ing," said Owen, " and that is that you don't have to
 
 64 Captain Kodak. 
 
 have ink. I always get mussed up so with my ink 
 press." 
 
 " But when you get the thing started," said Mc- 
 Connell, " you can print quicker on the printing 
 press." 
 
 " I believe you can get mussed up in photography, 
 if you want to," suggested Allan.
 
 V. 
 
 THE DARK-ROOM MYSTERY. 
 
 w 
 
 "HEN the boys 
 reached the 
 coach-house, 
 the plates were found to 
 be quite dry, and after 
 unpacking a printing- 
 frame and slipping from 
 the stiff paper envel 
 ope a sheet of printing 
 paper, the first of the 
 fire negatives was soon 
 in the sunlight on a 
 front window-sill. 
 
 Allan watched the 
 progress of the print 
 ing with excited inter 
 est, opening the back 
 of the frame at fre 
 quent intervals for a 
 glimpse of the slowly deepening image on the paper. 
 
 " That negative wouldn't take long to print," Owen 
 said, " if I hadn't developed it so long trying to bring 
 out everything." 
 
 The negative had not looked much like a picture to 
 Allan, and, indeed, the first plate, made as a " snap- 
 F 65
 
 66 Captain Kodak. 
 
 shot," showed the strongest lights of the fire scene 
 and very little else. Yet the print gave a meaning to 
 the dark parts of the picture which were blank in the 
 plate. 
 
 " It does show the fire ; doesn't it ? " exclaimed 
 Allan. 
 
 " Yes," said Owen, " and it shows that it began on 
 the east side of the wing." 
 
 The second plate was much clearer. 
 
 " The fire's halfway across in that," remarked 
 McConnell. 
 
 The third plate, showing the fire at its worst, re 
 vealed even the outlines of the factory. The flames 
 were not so sharply defined as in the quick exposure 
 of the first plate, but the blur made by the yellow 
 tongues of fire was, perhaps, one advantage, and in 
 every other respect the " time " pictures, as Owen 
 called them, were much the better. 
 
 Allan unpacked the " toning solution," and with 
 Owen's help toned and fixed the three prints. Owen 
 waited until the prints were getting their last rinsing. 
 " Now," he said, " I guess you are pretty well started, 
 Allan." 
 
 "Yes," replied Allan; "and I don't know how I 
 ever should have got along without you, Owen." 
 
 " Oh," laughed Owen, " you only would have said 
 mean things about the man who wrote the directions ! 
 But you're not through yet ! There are more chances 
 for making mistakes in photography than in anything 
 I know of." 
 
 After running into the house to show the wet prints 
 (on a piece of blotting paper) to his mother and Edith, 
 Allan set to work on the dark room. McConnell 
 helped for most of the day, whistling loudly while he
 
 The Dark-room Mystery. 67 
 
 worked, and telling Allan a story he had read about a 
 pirate who got shipwrecked. 
 
 Before supper-time the dark room began to look 
 like a real photographer's den. With an arrangement 
 which he had made for the window, and the strips of 
 cloth around the door, Allan could have the room 
 absolutely dark in the brightest daylight. There 
 already was a long shelf in the room, and an old 
 chest of drawers. After planning a place for every 
 thing, Allan made strong resolutions to keep every 
 thing in the places he had chosen for them. And he 
 felt much pleased at the way his packages and bottles 
 looked when spread out on the shelf. He scarcely 
 could wait for his father to come in and survey the 
 outfit. 
 
 " You have done very well, Allan," said the Doctor, 
 "but you must keep this up; especially, you must keep 
 everything clean, for you will be working in the dark 
 in more senses than one if your bottles and graduates 
 and trays are not clean. Rinse everything after using 
 it, and before putting it away. When your plates act 
 queerly you want to know where the trouble is, 
 whether in the plates, in the camera, in the time, or in 
 the developer." 
 
 Allan said he meant to be very careful, and he put 
 some of his plans into practice when he developed the 
 picture of Artie on the bicycle. 
 
 " I tell you, McConnell," said Allan, as his com 
 panion was going home, " when you get your camera, 
 we can use this dark room together." 
 
 " Well," said McConnell, pleased at being made a 
 partner in so interesting an institution as the dark 
 room, " then I think I ought to chip in some trays 
 and things for myself; don't you think so, Allan ? "
 
 68 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " All right ! " laughed Allan. " One tray and a 
 plate-lifter." 
 
 It was that evening, a little afcer nine o'clock, when 
 Allan and Edith were studying and discussing the fire 
 pictures, that the factory superintendent came to the 
 door. Mrs. Hartel ushered him into the room. 
 
 " Are the plates ready ? " he asked. " I couldn't 
 get over any sooner." 
 
 " Yes," Allan answered, " they're ready. We were 
 just looking at the prints." 
 
 " The prints ? Oh, yes ! " And the superintendent 
 studied the pictures with great interest. " Great ! " 
 he exclaimed, his bushy head bent close to the prints 
 in the light of the centre-table lamp. " Wonderful ! 
 They're awfully dark, but you can see plainly where 
 the fire was, and how it worked across. Yes, sir, those 
 pictures may be useful. I'll have the check sent to 
 you to-morrow, my lad." 
 
 " I'll go out and get the plates," said Allan. 
 
 While Allan was gone the superintendent told Edith 
 and Mrs. Hartel how they had been clearing up the 
 mess at the factory during the day. " Of course," he 
 said, " we have to leave the wing alone until the ap 
 praiser comes, and we settle the row with the insurance 
 company. The naphtha cans weren't near the fire; 
 that is, they were on the other side of the partition 
 when it started." 
 
 " Do they still think some one set it afire ? " asked 
 Edith. 
 
 " Well, the factory folks themselves don't think so. 
 We think it started in the packing room, in some rub 
 bish. Fires often start that way. The man they say 
 did it " 
 
 The superintendent got up from his chair when he
 
 s 
 
 "'Think a minute,' said the superintendent."
 
 The Dark-room Mystery. 71 
 
 saw Allan returning. " You've got the plates there, 
 have you ? " 
 
 " No," answered Allan, his face pale and perplexed. 
 " They're gone ! " 
 
 " Gone ! " exclaimed Mrs. Hartel and Edith to 
 gether. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked the superintendent. 
 
 " I left them standing in a safe place," said Allan, 
 " and they are not there. I have looked everywhere." 
 
 " Great Scott ! " ejaculated the superintendent. 
 " They couldn't be stolen, could they r " 
 
 " Surely not," said Mrs. Hartel. " Are you sure, 
 Allan, that you didn't carry them in here ? " 
 
 " Think a minute," said the superintendent, with his 
 hand on Allan's shoulder. " Perhaps you put them in 
 some special place. I often do that and then forget 
 where the place is." 
 
 " I know I left them there," Allan persisted, " for 
 I looked at them before I came in to-night. I had 
 them in a place I had arranged for negatives." 
 
 The superintendent sat down again. " Have you 
 told anybody about this thing ? I forgot to tell you 
 not to." 
 
 Allan declared that he had spoken to but one boy 
 about it, and he enumerated those who knew about it 
 through Owen and McConnell. " The only one I 
 spoke to," said Allan, " was Cheney." 
 
 " Cheney ! " cried the superintendent. " Sam 
 Cheney's boy ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Allan, mystified. 
 
 The superintendent gave a peculiar grunt. " Do 
 you know," he demanded, drawing his eyebrows 
 together, " that it is Sam Cheney who has been sus 
 pected of starting the fire ? "
 
 72 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Allan looked amazed and shook his head. 
 
 " You don't suppose that Cheney boy could have 
 stolen them, do you ? " asked Mrs. Hartel. 
 
 " Why not ? " the superintendent demanded. 
 
 Allan was staring at the lamp. " I believe they 
 are stolen ! " he cried. " I remember that I locked 
 that door to-night and it was unlocked when I 
 went up for those plates just now." 
 
 Dr. Hartel appeared at this moment, and the super 
 intendent blurted out, " Doctor, I guess we've got 
 a case for the police here." 
 
 " The police ? " The Doctor looked his astonish 
 ment. 
 
 " It looks as if the Cheney boy had stolen those 
 plates." 
 
 "Stolen them?" The Doctor listened to Allan's 
 story, and questioned him closely. " It does look 
 like it," the Doctor admitted. 
 
 " I guess there's no doubt of it," the superinten 
 dent went on. " I guess, though, that we had better 
 not say anything about it just now. I'll quietly have 
 Detective Dobbs put on the case." 
 
 " I'm very sorry this has happened," said the 
 Doctor, much annoyed. 
 
 "Well, so am I," added the superintendent, "and 
 I don't suppose, Doctor, that you are willing to let 
 the thief go." 
 
 The Doctor shook his head. " I'm not willing to 
 let the plates go." 
 
 " But we have the prints," interposed Allan. 
 
 " Yes," said the Doctor, hopefully. 
 
 " I'll go over and see the chief now," said the 
 
 O 
 
 superintendent, and he went away with a hurried 
 " Good night ! "
 
 VI. 
 
 DETECTIVE DOBBS. 
 
 ALLAN looked 
 dazed when the 
 superintendent had 
 gone. They all looked 
 dazed. 
 
 " I am wonder 
 ing," said Dr. Hartel, 
 " whether Cheney was 
 sent to do this by 
 his father, or whether, 
 knowing that his father 
 was suspected, he did 
 the thing on his own 
 account." 
 
 " But we don't know 
 that Cheney did it," 
 said Mrs. Hartel. 
 
 " True," the Doc 
 tor replied, " but the 
 chances are much that 
 way. Allan," the Doc 
 tor continued, "we had better go out and look over 
 the place again." 
 
 " A cat might have knocked them down," suggested 
 Mrs. Hartel, as they were leaving. 
 
 73
 
 74 Captain Kodak. 
 
 But there could be no suspicion of a cat. There 
 were no broken fragments anywhere. The only nega 
 tive in the rack was that of Artie on the wheel. 
 
 " And you found the door unlocked ? " asked the 
 Doctor. 
 
 " Yes," Allan said confidently. " At first I didn't 
 think anything of it. But I remember distinctly now 
 that I locked it, and I remember thinking that it was 
 foolish to bother locking it." 
 
 The Doctor shook his head. "It is too bad. I am 
 sorry about Cheney." 
 
 Before going back to the house Dr. Hartel made 
 
 O O 
 
 some suggestions as to the keeping of the chemicals, 
 as to guarding the floor from drippings of the hypo, 
 as to pouring from the bottles, as to keeping the place 
 free from dust, and so on. 
 
 Father and son were seated talking over photographs 
 and the fire and Cheney, when a sharp rap sounded on 
 the door at the foot of the stairs. 
 
 " Come in ! " called the Doctor from the top step. 
 
 A lank man with a bristling red mustache came up 
 the steps. 
 
 " Is this Dr. Hartel ? " asked the man. 
 
 "Yes," replied the Doctor. "I do seem to be 
 wasting a good deal of my time out here just now." 
 
 "The chief sent me over," said the man, "to see 
 you about some pictures that were stolen." As he 
 reached the top step the man looked questioningly at 
 Allan. 
 
 " This is my boy," Dr. Hartel said. " He took 
 the pictures I mean that he made them," laughed 
 the Doctor. " You are Dobbs, are you not ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the man. " I wish you would tell me 
 what you know about it."
 
 "Dr. Hartel made some suggestions."
 
 Detective Dobbs. 77 
 
 He was a ruddy-faced man. His mustache stood 
 out like the hairs of a brush, and he had a little red 
 scar over his right eye. When he smiled Allan liked 
 him at once. Allan remembered that he often had 
 seen him down by the railroad station. 
 
 They told the detective all they knew and he 
 listened attentively. Then he looked about the 
 rooms, and seemed much interested in everything he 
 saw in the dark room. He held up to the light 
 the negative of Artie on the bicycle, and laughed 
 over it. 
 
 " I have a kid about that size," he said. " I wish 
 you'd photograph him sometime." 
 
 " I will," said Allan. 
 
 " My boy Sporty," said the detective, " is great. 
 Why, sir," said Dobbs to the Doctor, " that kid got 
 a hold of my nippers the other day and got them on 
 the necks of our cat and the cat next door. You 
 never saw such a thing in your life. Scott ! wasn't 
 there a row ! " 
 
 At the thought of the handcuffed cats that is to 
 say, the neckcuffed cats the Doctor and Allan joined 
 in the detective's jolly laugh. 
 
 Presently the Doctor, wishing to get back to the 
 question of the plates, ventured to ask Dobbs what 
 he thought about the situation. 
 
 " Oh," said Dobbs, stooping to pick up a burnt 
 match from the floor, " I guess Cheney did it ; though 
 his father didn't have anything more to do with that 
 fire than I had. Say," continued Dobbs, turning to 
 Allan, " how do you light your lamps here ? " The 
 room was lighted now by a small, ordinary lamp which 
 Allan had borrowed from the kitchen. 
 
 " Why, with a match," replied Allan.
 
 78 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " Will you let me see one of your matches ? " asked 
 Dobbs. 
 
 Allan took a match from the little tin safe he had 
 tacked up beside the sink, and handed it to Dobbs. 
 As he did so he noticed for the first time that Dobbs 
 had a burnt match in his other hand. 
 
 " Then you don't throw your burnt matches on the 
 floor," said Dobbs. 
 
 " No," said Allan, perplexed at the statement, " I 
 always put my burnt matches in here ; " and the Doctor 
 smiled as Allan indicated another tin box on the corner 
 of the shelf. It was this sort of care of which he had 
 sought to teach Allan the importance. 
 
 " I believe you," said Dobbs, " for this isn't your 
 match." Dobbs was holding up the burnt fragment 
 he had picked from the floor. 
 
 The Doctor and Allan, coming closer, saw that the 
 two matches certainly did not have the same sort of 
 stem. 
 
 " Then that," said the Doctor, pointing to the partly 
 burnt match, " belonged to the thief, whoever he was." 
 
 " Looks so," said the detective, briefly, studying the 
 matches, or seeming to. Then " Wait a moment," he 
 said, stepping across the room, and he picked up an 
 other fragment of a match. It was almost completely 
 burnt, but the fragment showed that it had been of 
 the same form as the first piece. " He lighted two 
 matches, you see ; this one burnt out on him before 
 he found the plates. Then he struck this other one." 
 
 Allan's eyes stared. He never should have thought 
 of these things. 
 
 " Oh, I wish you had been around to get a picture 
 of those cats with the handcuffs on," said Dobbs, as 
 if that subject was much more interesting. Then he
 
 Detective Dobbs. 79 
 
 slipped the two fragments of matches into his vest 
 pocket, and when he was going he said : " I don't sup 
 pose we'll get down to the fine points on this thing 
 what you want is to get the plates back if they haven't 
 been broken or thrown into the river. I'll be around 
 again in the morning." 
 
 And Dobbs did come around in the morning. "You 
 haven't forgotten about Sporty, have you ? " was the 
 first thing he said to Allan. He seemed to have for 
 gotten about the plates, but when he saw Dr. Hartel 
 he remarked that he had been looking into the busi 
 ness. 
 
 " What beats me, Doctor," he said, " is why the 
 Cheneys should steal those pictures. If the factory 
 people were right, and the fire did start on the east 
 side of the wing, then Cheney couldn't have anything 
 to do with the fire. The factory people don't think he 
 did. It's the fire marshal who's raising the row. So 
 you see that the pictures help Cheney as much as they 
 help the factory people. If Cheney has stolen or 
 smashed those plates, I mean the father, he has 
 removed very good evidence, as I understand it, that 
 he is innocent. I tell you he didn't have anything to 
 do with it. He was sore on the factory management, 
 but he wouldn't be such a fool. That fire started in 
 the east of the wing, nowhere near the naphtha." 
 
 " Then why should the boy have taken the plates ? " 
 demanded the Doctor. 
 
 " I can't see," replied Dobbs, " unless the father or 
 the boy, or both, got it into their heads that these 
 pictures might be used against Cheney in some way. 
 It was a crazy notion." 
 
 " Have you any further clews ? " asked the Doctor. 
 
 " No, I can't say I have. But I threw out a hint
 
 80 Captain Kodak. 
 
 in the Cheney direction that may do some good. The 
 old man is over at Westwall, but I saw the boy. The 
 little rascal actually stumps me. I can't tell whether 
 he did it or not. But I left something there to soak 
 through his thick young skull. It may work." 
 
 Dobbs's attention again turned to the camera. " I 
 was saying, Doctor, that I wish your son would take my 
 boy, Sporty." A happy idea seemed to strike Dobbs. 
 " I tell you what I'll do ! " he exclaimed. " If you'll 
 make a picture of Sporty, I'll take you to New York 
 with me to-day." 
 
 " I'd like to go," Allan admitted. 
 
 " I don't see why you shouldn't," said the Doctor. 
 
 " Is it a bargain ? " asked Dobbs. 
 
 " Yes, it's a bargain," laughed Allan. 
 
 " You see," said Dobbs, as they walked down 
 toward his house a little later, " I've got to go down to 
 New York anyhow, and you might as well run around 
 with me. I dare say you'd like to see police head 
 quarters, and some other places, anyway. There are 
 lots of things to photograph down there." 
 
 Dobbs lived in a little wooden cottage near the bank 
 of the Hudson. It was painted a bright blue. Allan 
 thought there was something peculiar about the house, 
 and he became fixed in this opinion after seeing more 
 of it. There was a stretch of tree-grown ground back 
 of the house. In the front garden three stalks of 
 corn and four sunflowers were ripening. In the hall 
 way was a big iron dog, painted blue like the outside 
 of the house with some of the left-over paint, Allan 
 guessed. In the back parlor were five canaries in 
 cages, all singing in a great clatter of high notes ; and 
 a small, but very hoarse-voiced red and green parrot 
 in the corner shouted, " Hello Central ! " when he saw
 
 Detective Dobbs. 
 
 Dobbs and Allan. Mrs. Dobbs, a fat little woman, 
 sat sewing at a window, with a white cat in her lap. 
 
 " Where's Sporty ? " asked Dobbs. 
 
 " I don't know," replied Mrs. Dobbs. " He 
 bothered me to let him paddle, so I put on his trunks 
 and turned him loose." 
 
 " Probably he's drowned then," said Dobbs. 
 
 But Mrs. Dobbs only laughed softly, and went on 
 with her sewing. 
 
 Allan and the detective found Sporty down at a 
 little inlet of the river near the house. He wore red- 
 striped bathing trunks, and 
 was sailing a boat, which 
 he pushed into her proper 
 course with a long stick. 
 
 " Say, Pop," Sporty 
 called out, when he saw his 
 father, " I wish you'd buy 
 me a steamboat." Then 
 Sporty noticed Allan and 
 the camera, and looked curi 
 ously at the black box. 
 
 " Sporty," said Dobbs, 
 " you're going to have your 
 picture taken." 
 
 " Am I ? " Sporty peered 
 again at Allan. " Must I put 
 on my Sunday clothes ? " 
 
 " No, Sporty," said the 
 detective, " no clothes will 
 do. You're just right." 
 
 " You mean this way ? " Sporty asked. 
 
 " Bathing tights are very becoming to your style 
 of beauty, Sporty," the detective went on with his 
 
 Must I put on my Sunday 
 clothes?' "
 
 82 Captain Kodak. 
 
 pleasant grin. " Come over here," and Sporty's 
 shining legs timidly carried him to where his father 
 waited. " I want you with your arms folded, Sporty 
 you know," and Dobbs struck an attitude to show 
 what he meant. " There ! that's it ! " cried the de 
 tective, when Sporty had folded his arms. " Now, 
 don't look so savage. I want you to look as inno 
 cent as if the judge was asking you if you had ever 
 been convicted before." 
 
 Allan adjusted the camera and pressed the trigger. 
 
 "Is it took yet ? " asked Sporty. 
 
 " Yes," said Allan. 
 
 " That was great ! " exclaimed Dobbs. But Allan 
 thought Sporty had not looked very happy. " We'll 
 have to take him again some time when he's in the 
 humor," Allan suggested, " or when he isn't looking." 
 
 "That's so," Dobbs said; "good idea when he 
 doesn't know it." He looked after Sporty as the boy 
 went back to his boat, which had drifted far out of 
 her course. " I tell you, he's one of the greatest boys 
 you ever saw. He's simply wonderful. You ought 
 to see him do the cart-wheel. When can I see that 
 picture ? " 
 
 " Probably I'll develop it to-night and you can see 
 a proof to-morrow." 
 
 " Good ! Are you ready to go to New York ? " 
 
 " Could you wait until I changed this plate ? I want 
 to take the full plate-holders with me." 
 
 " Sure," returned Dobbs ; " why not take a lot 
 more. You could change them somewhere I can 
 fix that." 
 
 Acting on this suggestion Allan carried in the 
 pocket of his jacket an extra package of plates when 
 he met Dobbs at the station fifteen minutes later.
 
 Detective Dobbs. 83 
 
 " Got all your ammunition ? " Dobbs asked. 
 " There's big game in New York ; you want to be 
 loaded for bear." 
 
 Allan had not been to New York for several 
 months, and now that he had his camera with him 
 the prospect of so many interesting subjects for 
 pictures filled him with a pleasant excitement. It was 
 a bright day, and as he looked out across the glisten 
 ing Hudson he made up his mind to "do" the Pali 
 sades sometime. He remembered a cat-boat cruise 
 he had taken with the McConnell boys, how they 
 almost had been wrecked near Fort Lee. Yes, he 
 thought a cat-boat and a camera would make a good 
 combination. He already found himself planning 
 certain pictures at the base of the cliffs and from the 
 crags overhead. 
 
 There were many scenes along the Harlem that 
 attracted Allan the long arch of Washington 
 
 " The long arch of Washington Bridge."
 
 84 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Bridge, the varied craft of the river, the loops of the 
 elevated roads ; and when they were in Manhattan, 
 there were funny little remnants of the squatter settle 
 ment that seemed made or at least left to be 
 photographed. 
 
 " Now, you understand," said Dobbs, " that I'm 
 in no hurry. You can go anywhere you want to and 
 I'll trot around with you. I want to see how you do 
 it I'm going to get one of those things myself one 
 of these days." 
 
 " You can't learn much from the way / do it," said 
 Allan. " I'm only a beginner." 
 
 " It seems to me," pursued Dobbs, " that we might 
 do a little of the Bowery and around the Pell Street 
 way in the Chinese quarter and so on. Oh, I 
 suppose you could put in a week here slumming 
 with a camera, how would that go ? unless you 
 don't like slums. First, I've got to run in and see 
 one of the Central Office men at headquarters." 
 
 And so they went over to Mulberry from the " L " 
 road, and Allan was so much interested in being at 
 police headquarters that he thought no more about 
 the camera until Dobbs was ready to go. 
 
 " Suppose we go and look at the Rogue's Gallery," 
 suggested Dobbs, and he led the way into one of the 
 rooms opening off the main hall. " There's a collec 
 tion of photographs for you ! " exclaimed Dobbs, 
 turning .the doors of a curious cabinet like a vast 
 wooden book. 
 
 Allan stared in amazement at the countless faces 
 that stared out of this curious collection. Some 
 thing in the style of these faces made Allan feel sad. 
 Yet the faces were not all evil-looking faces by any 
 means. Perhaps it was because they were not that
 
 Detective Dobbs. 85 
 
 Allan felt awkward and grieved as he looked at them. 
 There were handsome faces of both men and women, 
 some of them very young mere boys and girls, 
 sometimes and the well-dressed and the ragged 
 were shoulder to shoulder. One face, that of a 
 boy who appeared to be of about Allan's age, held 
 Allan's attention until Dobbs asked if he knew the 
 face. 
 
 " No," said Allan. He had been thinking how 
 clear-eyed and manly the boy looked. He wondered 
 what trouble the boy had fallen into, and if the boy's 
 mother thought he was guilty. 
 
 " Well," said Allan, a lump in his throat, " I don't 
 believe they are all rogues. I believe there were some 
 mistakes that some of them were innocent." 
 
 " Maybe," said Dobbs. " Maybe there are fel 
 lows there who don't belong there. And there are 
 a great many folks who belong there who are not 
 there." 
 
 Allan said nothing more while they were going 
 downstairs again. They walked back to the Bowery 
 and turned to the south. One of the first things that 
 Allan saw struck him so oddly that he adjusted the 
 focus of his camera to fifteen feet, and turning about 
 made a quick shot, Dobbs watching attentively. 
 
 The subject of Allan's picture was a boy of twelve 
 or thirteen perched in a high boot-black's chair with a 
 grimy little Italian "shiner" polishing his shoes. 
 
 " Shine ? " called the Italian boy over his shoulder, 
 when he saw that some one had stopped ; then went 
 on with his work. 
 
 " Young America and young Italy," laughed the 
 detective, as they walked down the Bowery. When 
 they came to one of the numerous dime museums of
 
 86 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 "'Young America and Young Italy.'" 
 
 there you are ! " and Allan read : 
 
 the street, Dobbs halt 
 ed and they read over 
 the glaring announce 
 ments that plastered 
 the front of the build 
 ing. 
 
 " You haven't a big 
 enough plate to take 
 the fat lady," chuckled 
 Dobbs, " but I don't 
 see but that you might 
 take a shy at the ossi 
 fied girl. Ha, ha ! " 
 the detective laughed 
 loudly, as he pointed 
 to a huge picture 
 spreading across the 
 front of the building; 
 
 GREAT PIE EATING CONTEST 
 
 BY 
 
 ELEVEN LOVELY LADIES ! ! 
 
 " Couldn't we get them to let us take that ? " asked 
 Dobbs, " when they were half through, you know ! " 
 
 Allan joined in the detective's laugh, until the man 
 in the little window to the right of the entrance looked 
 over at them with a scowl.
 
 Detective Dobbs. 
 
 Dobbs appeared to be greatly taken with the idea, 
 and for a few moments Allan feared that he might 
 
 O 
 
 suggest carrying it out. But presently they left the 
 region of the museums, and Allan changed the subject 
 by catching a group at the drinking tap in front of 
 the Young Men's Institute. Then the detective and 
 Allan came to the shooting-galleries where wooden 
 deer and green lions were 
 ceaselessly jumping, and 
 silvery balls were rising 
 and falling on jets of water 
 until shattered by some 
 successful marksman. 
 
 "Here's a chance," said 
 Dobbs, " to get some of 
 those queer things in ani 
 mal locomotion. The great 
 advantage here, though, 
 would be that no matter 
 when you caught the deer 
 and lions, their legs would 
 always look perfectly nat 
 ural. That would be a 
 big advantage. I don't 
 like these snap pictures 
 that show the horses standing on one foot with their 
 hind legs twisted." 
 
 Below Grand street, in front of a clothing store, 
 they found five men standing at the curb, each sup 
 porting a huge wooden letter. When Allan stepped 
 into the street to read the letters from the front, he 
 found that they spelled " P-A-N-T-S." A Great 
 Pants Sale " was in progress here. Other sales were 
 in progress at every step of their walk. 
 
 ; The drinking tap."
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 "A Great Pants Sale." 
 
 " Isn't it almost time to eat ? " asked Dobbs. " I 
 know a joint here where you can get the best steak in 
 New York." 
 
 The "joint" was across the street, and Dobbs sa 
 luted the proprietor cheerily as they walked in. Allan 
 was too much stirred up by the sights and sounds out 
 of doors and the whirr and clatter of this " quick 
 lunch " indoors to eat much. When they had finished 
 Allan wished to share the bill. 
 
 " But there isn't any bill," said Dobbs ; which 
 seemed to be true, for, as they passed out, Dobbs 
 merely nodded again to the proprietor. " I once did 
 that fellow a great big favor," said Dobbs, " and so my 
 money wouldn't go in there nor yours either if you 
 were with me." 
 
 " Suppose you lived near by," said Allan, " and
 
 Detective Dobbs. 89 
 
 took all your meals there, do you think he would keep 
 on being willing ? " 
 
 Dobbs laughed. " Well, I think I could keep it 
 up quite a long time, if I wanted to." 
 
 Presently they came to Chatham Square, and Dobbs, 
 pointing over to the west, said, " Here's Chinatown." 
 
 Dobbs knew all the queer places, the joss houses, 
 and theatres, and restaurants, and he pointed these out 
 or indicated them with a jerk of his head. 
 
 " They are suspicious here," said Dobbs, " and when 
 you want to take anything I'll turn and talk to you so 
 that you can shoot past me." It was in this way that 
 Allan caught a group of men in front of one of the 
 queer places. Hundreds of Chinamen were passing 
 up and down the street, hundreds more could be seen 
 in the tea-shops and at the windows of the restaurants.
 
 90 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Suddenly Dobbs turned away with an exclamation 
 which Allan did not understand, and, looking about, 
 the boy saw the detective run into an alley. 
 
 Allan, much perplexed, walked to the mouth of the 
 alley and peered into its dingy depths. But there was 
 no sign of Dobbs. He had utterly disappeared.
 
 VII. 
 
 IN NEW YORK. 
 
 ALLAN could scarce 
 ly believe his eyes. 
 The detective cer 
 tainly ran into the alley, 
 and there seemed to be no 
 escape from the alley save 
 by the flight of wooden 
 steps running up the side 
 of the building on the left. 
 These steps were in full 
 view to the top, and it 
 certainly was impossible 
 that Dobbs should have 
 mounted these in the brief 
 moments that had elapsed 
 before Allan reached the 
 point from which he could 
 see them. 
 
 For several minutes Allan stood there in perplexity. 
 Then he walked as far as the corner and back again to 
 the alley. Still no sign of Dobbs. A Chinaman in 
 a tea-shop came to the door and stared at Allan. 
 Other Chinamen across the way seemed to be won 
 dering what he wanted there. Two barefooted Italian 
 boys stopped, and very deliberately examined the cam 
 era and Allan. 
 
 91
 
 92 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Allan again walked to the corner, and as he turned 
 he saw a little ragged boy enter the alley, and he lost 
 no time in retracing his steps. But when he reached 
 the alley the boy was not to be seen. He, too, had 
 melted away. 
 
 Allan then determined to settle this mystery if he 
 did nothing else, and to wait there until another figure 
 attempted to elude him. " I'll follow them," he said 
 to himself. 
 
 The Chinaman in the tea-shop saw Allan take his 
 stand at the curb opposite the alley. For five minutes 
 or more he stood there watching the life of the street, 
 peering at the strange signs and banners and balconies. 
 He looked toward Chatham Square, from which came 
 the clatter of the elevated trains and the roar of street 
 traffic. Occasionally he turned to the alley as if expect 
 ing to see Dobbs reappear from its shadowy depths. 
 
 Once, when his eyes turned to the alley, he saw a 
 man with a red shirt shambling toward him, a lame 
 man who leaned against the sides of the alley to sup 
 port himself. But it was impossible to see where he 
 had come from. The mystery was as deep as ever 
 as deep as the alley. 
 
 Presently a woman who passed him with a bundle 
 of clothes entered the alley with a rolling step, and 
 Allan instantly followed her, to the evident perplexity 
 of the Chinaman in the tea-shop. He followed so 
 closely at the woman's heels in his determination not 
 to let her melt out of his sight, that the woman 
 glanced back at him over her shoulder in suspicious 
 inquiry. 
 
 Then Allan discovered what many another dis 
 covered long ago, for when the woman reached what 
 
 O O ' 
 
 had appeared to be the end of the alley, she turned to
 
 In New York. 93 
 
 the right, and the boy, following, found himself in 
 another alley running at right angles to the first. 
 
 It seemed very absurd that he had not thought of 
 this before. Several doors opened into this second 
 alley, and through one of these the woman passed 
 with her bundle. 
 
 Allan went straight ahead into the cross street upon 
 which the alley opened. If Dobbs had been playing 
 a trick upon him, it might be that he was waiting here 
 somewhere. But there was no sign of the detective. 
 
 Whether it was a joke or not, Allan made up his 
 mind not to worry any more over finding Dobbs. 
 Possibly the detective might come back to the place 
 from which he had disappeared. Perhaps he was in 
 one of these houses. But there was no way of telling 
 where he was, or when he would come if he did come. 
 Allan had been in New York before. He knew his 
 way to the Grand Central Station. That did not 
 trouble him. Yet he was disappointed in losing so 
 good a guide as Dobbs. 
 
 However, there were still two hours of picture- 
 making daylight left, and he determined to use these 
 as best he might on his own account. They had not 
 lingered in Chatham Square, and Allan walked again 
 in that direction, and down into Chatham Street to 
 Newspaper Row and the City Hall. On his way he 
 came across a pretzel man with a store of salty pret 
 zels strung on a stick. 
 
 In City Hall Park Allan found a group that excited 
 his interest. The group of men and boys were in a 
 circle, and made up such a good picture that Allan 
 sighted his camera at a distance of twenty feet and 
 pressed the trigger. Then he went forward to satisfy 
 his curiosity.
 
 94 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 "The group of men and boys in a circle." 
 
 " What's the matter ? " Allan asked of a man who 
 was turning away. 
 
 " Craps," answered the man, grinning. 
 
 Pressing forward into the group, Allan heard the 
 click of pennies and caught a glimpse of a boy's 
 grimy hand tossing some dice on the stones. When 
 some one uttered a peculiar exclamation, the owner of 
 the grimy hand and half a dozen other boys darted 
 out of the centre of the crowd, and fled in great haste, 
 leaving on the stones one of the dice, which an on 
 looker picked up. Then Allan understood that the 
 boys had been gambling and that some one had 
 sighted a policeman ; a fact which gave him food for
 
 In New York. 95 
 
 thought as he crossed the square again and walked up 
 Centre Street. He had determined to move again in 
 the direction of the Grand Central. 
 
 While he was thinking of the boys and the police 
 man and how much of life in this part of New York 
 seemed to be made up of a battle between the two, he 
 caught sight of the Tombs prison, which had been 
 half torn down and patched up again since he saw it 
 once before. 
 
 It was while he was picturing the Tombs from the 
 corner of Franklin Street that a boy who had watched 
 everything he did from the moment he stopped there, 
 tapped him on the sleeve, and said, " Say, d'yer want 
 a good picture ? " The boy tossed his head in the 
 direction of Baxter Street with a wink so jolly that 
 Allan concluded that the suggested subject must be 
 amusing at least, but he followed the boy for the 
 space of half a block, when the boy, who had been 
 trotting ahead, halted with a laugh before the steps of 
 a dirty, empty-looking house. 
 
 On the steps was what appeared from a little dis 
 tance like a bundle of soiled rags; but when Allan 
 drew near he saw that there was a living creature in 
 the rags, an old woman lying as if she had fallen 
 there, a rumpled black bonnet in her lap, her head 
 resting against the rail, and her yellow, wrinkled face 
 upturned to the sun. 
 
 The boy giggled as if he thought it all a vast joke ; 
 but Allan shuddered and looked about as if in wonder 
 that no one had come to help the woman ; and when 
 he saw a fat policeman strolling toward him he hur 
 ried forward to say : " Officer, here's a sick woman. 
 Shouldn't some one get her out of the sun ? She may 
 be dying."
 
 96 Captain Kodak. 
 
 The policeman looked at Allan with an expression 
 which Allan did not understand. For a moment the 
 policeman looked at the woman ; then he spat into the 
 street, and said, " I don't think she's dyin' yet," smiled 
 at Allan, and continued his walk. 
 
 Allan's face grew hot, and he wanted to shout, 
 " You're a brute ! " after the policeman, when a girl 
 came out of the doorway of the house where the 
 woman lay, and seeing the object on the steps, came 
 forward and began shaking the woman as if to arouse 
 her. The girl had a sad face. Allan thought she 
 looked as if she had cried very often. 
 
 The woman opened her eyes finally, and Allan, 
 placing his camera on the steps, helped the woman to 
 rise, and by the aid of Allan and the girl the woman 
 tottered up the steps and through the doorway. 
 
 " We live upstairs," said the sad-faced girl, quietly. 
 Allan knew that this was a request to help a little 
 longer. It was hard work on the stairs, for the steps 
 were steep and narrow, and the old woman trembled 
 violently. 
 
 When they had reached the top, the girl, with a 
 grateful look, said, " I'm much obliged." The old 
 woman did not speak. As he came downstairs an 
 ugly girl with a baby in her arms said to Allan, " Mrs. 
 Grimmins is drinkin' very hard again." 
 
 Allan went out without a word. He was so much 
 upset that he did not notice at first that his camera 
 had gone. Almost at the moment when he did dis 
 cover his loss, he saw the camera in the hands of a 
 boy who was scudding around the corner. 
 
 Allan was the best runner in the Hazenfield high 
 school nine, and a hundred feet beyond the corner he 
 came upon a group of boys who had the camera be-
 
 " He caught sight of the Tombs prison.
 
 In New York. 99 
 
 tween them, and who in another moment would have 
 been out of sight in one of the alleys. 
 
 " I'll take that," said Allan to a big, rough fellow 
 who had his fingers on the carrying strap. 
 
 " Who said so ? " was the response. 
 
 Allan caught hold of the camera, but the big fellow 
 held fast, and gave Allan a violent push with his left 
 hand. A little crowd sprang up around Allan instantly, 
 and several of the boys began to jostle him and to 
 pull at his coat. 
 
 Allan knew that in trouble of this sort it was neces 
 sary to get rid of the biggest enemy first, and, still 
 holding the camera with his left hand, he struck his 
 biggest enemy squarely in the face. As the other fell 
 sprawling over the sill of a grocer's shop, Allan wrested 
 the camera free, and, turning about, he struck quickly 
 at two of his other assailants, clearing a space about 
 him. 
 
 It was a very uneven affair, for Allan was hampered 
 by the camera. Each of the others had two hands to 
 his one. But Allan fought furiously, and might have 
 made a very good defence with his single hand had not 
 his big enemy, regaining his feet, approached Allan 
 from behind, and, throwing his arms about him, flung 
 him to the walk. 
 
 " Soak him, Pete ! " yelled several of the boys, gath 
 ering for a chance to use their feet. 
 
 O 
 
 Pete was powerful, but in agility he was no match 
 for Allan. In a moment Allan had Pete under him ; 
 but he had lost hold of the camera. 
 
 One of the boys, with a shout, grasped the black 
 box and started to run. He did run plump into the 
 hands of a policeman. 
 
 " The cop ! "
 
 TOO Captain Kodak. 
 
 The crowd melted in a second's time. Only Allan, 
 Pete, and the boy who had the camera, remained to 
 give an account of the affair. 
 
 For a moment Allan thought it was the same police 
 man he had seen on the other street. But it was not. 
 This new policeman held fast to the boy who had the 
 camera, and who seemed to be wishing that he didn't 
 have it. 
 
 " They have been trying to steal my camera ! " cried 
 Allan, adjusting his crushed hat. 
 
 " He lies ! " roared Pete. 
 
 " Well," said the policeman, lazily, and as if there 
 was nothing exciting about the incident, " I'll take you 
 all in till we talk it over, hey ? " 
 
 The boy with the camera began to whimper. " I 
 was only takin' care of it ! " he cried. 
 
 " I never touched it ! " protested Pete. " He stole 
 it hisself ! " 
 
 " Let's take a walk," said the policeman, holding 
 the small boy and Pete each by the collar. " You walk 
 ahead," he said to Allan. 
 
 " Do you mean that you are going to arrest me? " 
 demanded Allan. 
 
 " I mean that you're goin' to walk," returned the 
 policeman, using Pete to push Allan forward ; and 
 the policeman with his three prisoners moved toward 
 Elizabeth Street.
 
 VIII. 
 
 TWO ARRESTS. 
 
 ALLAN, angry and 
 chagrined, did as he 
 was told and led 
 the line ; and very soon 
 a crowd began to gather 
 again. Even some of the 
 boys who had most wisely 
 taken to their heels, see 
 ing that the policeman had 
 his hands full, ventured 
 again into close quarters, 
 and made audible remarks 
 to Pete and his companion. 
 They scarcely had gone 
 a block when at least a 
 hundred ragged boys and 
 , girls of the quarter were 
 
 following behind or running ahead to shout the news 
 into the alleys. Recruits came running from Mulberry 
 Square. A man with a push cart drew near to the 
 curb and kept abreast of the procession. It seemed 
 to Allan that at least a thousand women were craning 
 their necks out of windows or crowding eagerly in 
 doorways. His face reddened, and he did not know 
 where to look. He certainly felt very angry and re- 
 
 101
 
 102 Captain Kodak. 
 
 sentful, and yet, when people peered at him, he won 
 dered whether they did not think he looked guilty of 
 something. 
 
 "What did they do?" 
 
 " They were caught lifting." 
 
 " Three of them." 
 
 "They tapped a till." 
 
 " They got the whole gang." 
 
 " There was a fight." 
 
 These and a hundred other comments and inquiries 
 came to Allan as he threaded the crowded sidewalk ; 
 the shuffle of the policeman, with Pete and his com 
 panion behind, and a clatter and patter of a multitude 
 of feet everywhere. 
 
 Allan was wondering whether they were going to a 
 patrol box or directly to some station, and they were 
 within a short distance of a cross street, when there 
 were signs of a new and separate commotion ahead. 
 Heads in the windows began to turn the other way, 
 and the advance guard of the procession in which 
 Allan had been moving had darted further ahead, and 
 was mingling at the corner with another crowd that 
 surged toward the same cross street. 
 
 Then it became plain that there had been another 
 arrest somewhere. Allan could see the helmet of a 
 policeman, the face of a man without his hat ; and as 
 they swung around the corner, the two processions 
 almost at the same moment, Allan saw another face 
 that looked familiar. 
 
 Yes, it was Dobbs, Dobbs holding one arm of 
 the man without a hat, Dobbs, rather flushed, Allan 
 thought, as if he had been running, or was excited. 
 
 O y O-* 
 
 Dobbs looked across at the other crowd and saw 
 Allan, for he laughed and waved his hand, and his
 
 Two Arrests. 
 
 103 
 
 lips moved, but in the hubbub Allan could not hear 
 what he said. 
 
 The police station was in Elizabeth Street. It 
 looked very gloomy, somehow. Dobbs was laugh 
 ing again and waving his free hand, just before he 
 turned into the doorway of the station. The crowd 
 had grown to great proportions by this time. Allan 
 never had suspected that so many men and women, 
 who looked as if they might have something better to 
 do, would take so much interest in seeing four pris 
 oners taken into a police station. Several policemen 
 on the sidewalk seemed to be amused ; indeed, the 
 affair appeared to be something of a joke to many 
 people, including Pete. 
 
 "Several policemen on the sidewalk seemed to be amused."
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Allan, followed by the policeman and the two other 
 prisoners, found his way through the police station 
 door. 
 
 When they got in Dobbs was talking over the rail 
 ing to the Sergeant at the desk. When he turned and 
 saw Allan, he called out a cheery " Hello ! Did you 
 wonder where I went to ? So you've been snapping 
 an arrest, have you ? " 
 
 " No," said Allan, solemnly. " I've been getting 
 arrested." 
 
 " You ? " Dobbs laughed in a puzzled way, and 
 looked at the policeman, who was pushing Pete a little 
 further away from the door. " Arrested ! Wait a 
 minute," and Dobbs turned again to the desk, while 
 the Sergeant wrote something in a book, and the man 
 without a hat answered certain questions in a low voice. 
 
 Although he was feeling decidedly uncomfortable, 
 in spite of finding Dobbs again, and although there 
 was a great chorus of voices in the street and a crowd 
 of faces at the door, Allan found himself watching the 
 face of the man without a hat. It seemed to him that 
 he never before had seen a face so white. Once the 
 man turned and looked at those who were standing 
 near him. He had extremely dark eyes, that twitched 
 sad-looking eyes, Allan thought. 
 
 When the man was led away toward the back .room 
 Dobbs swung about quickly, and said, " What's this ? 
 Arrested ? What for ? " 
 
 " They stole my camera," Allan replied, "and I 
 was trying to get it again." 
 
 " How about this, Steve ? " asked Dobbs of the 
 policeman who had captured Allan, and who was now 
 leaning lazily against the railing. 
 
 " I dunno," returned Steve. " They were in a mix-
 
 Two Arrests. 105 
 
 up when I got there. This young rat here had the 
 camera," and he pointed to the smallest boy. " Do 
 you know him ? " he added, pointing to Allan. 
 
 " Why, he's my neighbor ! " said Dobbs, who evi 
 dently was much amused. "This is his camera. I've 
 been taken with that myself. I just left him half an 
 hour ago, when I first spotted the ghost." 
 
 " I thought it was his," pursued the policeman, 
 though Allan looked savage, and didn't believe him. 
 " Thought I'd bring in the whole debating club, and 
 let them have out the scrap here. I suppose Pete was 
 trying to win that box." 
 
 " Well, we'll put the pair in for this," said Dobbs, 
 frowning at Pete and the other boy. " Did they hurt 
 you ? " he asked Allan. 
 
 " No," Allan answered, " but I think I hurt them a 
 little." 
 
 Pete's upper lip was swollen until he presented a 
 comical appearance. Dobbs saw this, and a twinkle 
 came into his eyes. " You young highwayman ! " he 
 growled at Pete. 
 
 " I was only foolin'," whined Pete. 
 
 " Well," demanded the deep baritone voice of the 
 Sergeant, behind the desk. 
 
 " I wish you'd let them go," protested Allan. 
 Dobbs was picking up the camera. 
 
 " What ! " growled Dobbs, with something in his 
 voice that made Allan understand that he didn't mean 
 it ; " let these bandits go ? " 
 
 " We didn't know whose it was," whimpered the 
 smallest boy. 
 
 " Of course," snorted Dobbs again, " you were 
 looking for the owner, weren't you, like a good little 
 boy ? "
 
 106 Captain Kodak. 
 
 "No complaint?" asked the Sergeant, in a dry 
 tone. 
 
 "Now, Sergeant," said Dobbs, holding up the 
 camera and blinking into the finder, " please look 
 pleasant ; it may hurt your face to do it, but look 
 sweet for just a moment." 
 
 "What about this, Steve ? " demanded the Sergeant, 
 
 * O y 
 
 turning to the policeman. 
 
 "He won't make a complaint," said Steve. 
 
 " Then get out of here ! " ordered the Sergeant, in 
 a terrifying voice to Pete and his companion, and 
 those two reprobates did get out with wonderful 
 agility. 
 
 After they had gone Allan was surprised to notice 
 what a pleasant smile the Sergeant had. Dobbs went 
 on to tell Allan, and the Sergeant at the same time, 
 how he had caught a glimpse of the man with the 
 white face, whom he called the Ghost ; how the man 
 darted into the alley ; how he had pursued him 
 through the two alleys into the side street, and into 
 other alleys ; how he had lost him, summoned the 
 assistance of a policeman, and searched several houses 
 for him ; how they caught him at last stretched on his 
 face under the rafters. 
 
 " And I have been looking for him for three years ! " 
 chuckled Dobbs. 
 
 " What did he do ? " asked Allan. 
 
 " Do ? What didn't he do ? That fellow's been 
 bad ever since he began to breathe. We want him in 
 Hazenfield for a store robbery and nearly killing a 
 watchman. Did I worry you some by running away ? " 
 
 " I was bothered a little," admitted Allan. 
 
 " Well, I've got to leave the Ghost here until court 
 
 3 O 
 
 hours to-morrow, and I'll be going back to Hazenfield
 
 Two Arrests. 107 
 
 soon. Suppose we take another turn around before 
 we go back." 
 
 " I'll have to change my plates, somehow," said 
 Allan. 
 
 "All right," and the detective went back to find the 
 doorman. Presently he returned with a sprightly, 
 gray-haired man at his elbow. " The doorman says he 
 has just the place for you here." 
 
 The place suggested by the doorman proved to 
 be quite what Allan needed, as far as being dark, for 
 when he had closed the door there was not a speck of 
 light anywhere. It was a large closet with an old 
 trunk in one corner, an old coat with brass buttons 
 hanging over it. A musty smell pervaded the place, 
 a rat scampered somewhere in the darkness, and Allan 
 did not especially enjoy the interval during which he 
 transferred his used plates to the box, and the new 
 plates to the holders. 
 
 Dobbs was outside guarding the door, though the 
 doorman said that no one ever would think of open 
 ing it. 
 
 " Ah, Captain ! " cried Dobbs, as Allan emerged 
 from the closet. " Loaded for bear now, are you ? " 
 
 The doorman took great interest in the camera, and 
 so did the Sergeant. Allan felt very grateful and gen 
 erous, and suggested taking the Sergeant at his desk, 
 the doorman standing near with his keys in a military 
 attitude. 
 
 " I guess I should count six," said Allan, " and you 
 mustn't move." 
 
 " Hear that, Sergeant ? " demanded Dobbs. " Look 
 benevolent and don't breathe." 
 
 At this the Sergeant's lips twitched, but he held 
 quite still until Allan had completed the exposure.
 
 io8 Captain Kodak. 
 
 The thing was hardly done when a policeman came 
 in with another prisoner. 
 
 " Business is good to-day," laughed Dobbs ; " good- 
 by, Sergeant ; hold on tight to my Ghost." 
 
 Then Allan confessed to Dobbs that he had for 
 gotten to change the focus of his camera to short 
 range, and that the picture certainly was spoiled. 
 
 " Let it go," Dobbs said reassuringly. " They'll 
 forget all about it, anyway. What do you say to 
 walking up to the Grand Central by way of Broad 
 way ? We can take in Union and Madison Squares 
 and so on." 
 
 Allan thought this a good idea. The truth is, he 
 was feeling resentful toward the regions in which he 
 
 D c.? 
 
 had spent most of the time since reaching the city in 
 the morning. He was glad to getaway toward Union 
 Square and up-town. 
 
 Dobbs made many suggestions as to pictures, but 
 Allan did not find it to be possible to act upon many of 
 them. He made some pictures in the squares, a tramp 
 asleep, the Plaza at Twenty-third Street, carriage- 
 crowded Fifth Avenue, the kaleidoscopic bustle at the 
 Grand Central. 
 
 When they were on the train again, Allan began to 
 feel that it had been a notable day. Taking the pic 
 tures had made the trip seem more interesting than 
 ever before, and the arrest 
 
 He hated to think about the arrest. It had hap 
 pened by no fault of his, unless it might be the fault 
 of leaving the camera where he did when he helped 
 carry the old woman into the house. But he felt 
 soiled by it, and grew red in the face again at the 
 thought of the crowds that had looked at him and 
 perhaps measured him as a criminal.
 
 Two Arrests. 
 
 109 
 
 " A tramp asleep." 
 
 When they parted Dobbs made Allan promise to 
 let him have a proof of Sporty's picture as soon as he 
 could. " I'd like to have a squint at those others 
 too," he said. 
 
 Allan himself was eager to see the results of his 
 day's work with the camera; and although his mother 
 and Edith were much absorbed in his account of the 
 day's incidents, he spent the half-hour before supper 
 in preparing the dark room for the developing. 
 
 Edith followed him and had a score of inquiries as 
 to the Bowery, and the mysterious alley, and Broad 
 way, and the battle with the boys. 
 
 " And just to think, Allan, those horrid police
 
 no Captain Kodak. 
 
 might have locked you in a cell like a common crimi 
 nal." 
 
 "Anyway, I was glad to see Mr. Dobbs," said Allan. 
 " He used to be on the force in New York, and he 
 knows everybody." 
 
 " And I hope, Allan, you'll never want to go in 
 those dreadful places any more. I like pictures of 
 pleasant places and nice-looking people." 
 
 " It takes all sorts of people to make a world," 
 said Allan, rinsing a tray under the tap. 
 
 " Yes," admitted Edith, " but you don't need to 
 mix with all sorts." 
 
 After supper Allan began his developing, and Dr. 
 Hartel was with him for fully an hour, long enough to 
 see the picture of Sporty and the Bowery shoe-black, 
 and the group of boys around the " Lemonade Man." 
 
 It was all very fascinating, this work in the red 
 glow of the lamp, the moments of expectation until 
 the first signs of the image appeared, the slow growth 
 of the picture under the ripple of the developer, the 
 glimpse of the clear negative after the fixing. The 
 trickle of the water from the washing-box was real 
 music to Allan. 
 
 Of course there were disappointments in some of 
 the plates, resulting from mistakes in the focussing, 
 from intrusive foreground figures, from too rapid 
 movements that made a blur. But there were com 
 pensations too, for there were many unexpectedly 
 interesting things in the pictures, things not seen by 
 Allan at the moment of pressing his trigger, funny 
 gestures of people, droll expressions of faces. 
 
 It was nearly ten o'clock when Allan left his last 
 plates washing and went into the house to report on 
 his successes and failures. He carried with him a
 
 Two Arrests. 113 
 
 rack holding the first dozen of the plates, which he 
 wanted to study in the better light of the sitting-room 
 lamp. This lamp had a plain ground-glass shade, 
 which made just the right relief for the image of a 
 negative. 
 
 Half an hour later, when Allan returned to the 
 stable, he found the door at the foot of the stairs 
 slightly ajar. This reminded him of the night his 
 plates were stolen. It set him thinking very quickly. 
 
 He had closed the door when he left the stable. 
 He remembered turning about with the rack in one 
 hand while he drew the knob with the other. 
 
 Yes, he was sure he had closed the door. He 
 stepped within the doorway, and almost as he did so 
 he heard a step on the stair and a shufHe as if some 
 one were crowding against the wall in the shadow. 
 
 "Who's there ? " asked Allan. 
 
 There was no answer. 
 
 " You might as well speak," continued Allan ; " you 
 can't get away." 
 
 No sound came in reply to this. 
 
 Allan opened the door as far as it would go, and as 
 he did so a figure arose in front of him and roughly 
 tried to slip past him. Allan was too quick for the 
 figure. He caught it with both hands for happily 
 he had not carried anything with him to the stable 
 and with all the force at his command threw it back 
 against the steps. 
 
 The figure grunted at this but gave no other sign 
 that might help to its identification. 
 
 " Who are you ? " demanded Allan again, panting 
 with his exertions to hold the wriggling unknown, who 
 presently worked his way off the steps and with a 
 quick leap to his feet had almost reached the door,
 
 ii4 Captain Kodak. 
 
 when Allan caught him again and the two dropped in 
 a heap across the sill. 
 
 The light from the house now fell on the face of 
 the unknown. It was Cheney.
 
 IX. 
 
 GREAT EXPECTATIONS. 
 
 was very much 
 frightened, but he cried 
 
 sullenly, "You let me 
 
 i 
 go! 
 
 Allan did let him up 
 from the ground, but 
 still held fast to him. 
 " So you are the thief, 
 Cheney ? And you 
 want more, do you ? " 
 Allan's voice trembled. 
 " Cheney, I'm going 
 to hand you over to 
 the police. You de 
 serve it. You robbed 
 me, and now you were 
 trying to do it again." 
 " No, I wasn't," whim 
 pered Cheney. " Let me 
 go, Allan ! Don't have me 
 arrested. Please, Allan ! " 
 Then Cheney suddenly gave a violent twist of his 
 body, hoping to catch Allan unawares, and escape. 
 But Allan's fingers never loosened their hold. 
 
 " It's no use, Cheney," Allan said, speaking as
 
 n6 Captain Kodak. 
 
 quietly as his excitement would permit. " It wouldn't 
 do you any good to get away, anyhow. I know who 
 it is, and you would be arrested before morning." 
 
 Cheney began to cry. " Don't, Allan." 
 
 " But you are a thief, Cheney." 
 
 " No, I ain't, Allan ; I did take them, but I just 
 put them back." 
 
 " Put them back ? " 
 
 " Yes, Allan, they're up there all right." 
 
 " Do you mean that you have brought them back ? " 
 
 " Sure," Cheney answered fervently. 
 
 " Well, let us see," said Allan. " You go up first ; " 
 and he made Cheney go ahead of him up the stairs 
 in the dark for he had absently blown out his light 
 when he went into the house. Allan struck a match 
 at the top step. 
 
 " See ! there they are ! " and Cheney pointed to the 
 three plates lying on a chair, the first object Cheney 
 had encountered in the dark. 
 
 Allan picked up the plates, holding the match in 
 his other hand. The match burned out, and he struck 
 another, and lighted his " white lamp." Then he 
 looked at the plates, one by one, to see that they 
 were not injured. Convinced that they were not 
 harmed, he turned to Cheney, who stood falteringly 
 and uneasily watching him. 
 
 " Well, you can go, Cheney, for all I care." 
 
 Cheney immediately began to recover his self-pos 
 session. 
 
 " Oh, I was only foolin', Allan. I was goin' to 
 bring them back." 
 
 " You did bring them back," said Allan. " That 
 saved you. I guess I can get Detective Dobbs to let 
 you go."
 
 Great Expectations. 117 
 
 "Detective Dobbs," stammered Cheney; "you're 
 bluffing." 
 
 " Well, Dobbs isn't," said Allan. " He suspected 
 you from the first. He spoke to you about the plates, 
 didn't he ? " 
 
 " Yes," Cheney admitted, " but I didn't think he 
 knew anything. He only said some pictures were 
 stolen, and if I saw anybody with them I better tell 
 him to get them back in a hurry." 
 
 " Look here, Cheney," demanded Allan, stepping 
 close to the other, " what did you take them for ? " 
 
 Cheney was staring at the floor. Then he lifted 
 his head. " Oh, I told you," he said. " Just for 
 fun." 
 
 " No, you didn't, Cheney." 
 
 But Cheney would confess nothing further ; and 
 when it occurred to Allan that asking Cheney why he 
 took the plates was tempting him to confess that he 
 had thought to shield his father, he decided to say 
 nothing further about the matter to Cheney. The 
 plates were there again that was pleasanter to think 
 of than proving any one to be a thief. 
 
 " Let it go," was all that Allan finally said to Cheney. 
 
 " You're not going to say anything about it, are 
 you ? " asked Cheney. 
 
 " No." 
 
 And then Cheney shuffled down the steps, and was 
 gone. 
 
 Allan intended to take his newly developed plates 
 out of the washing-box and place them in the rack. 
 He scarcely took time to glance at them. The im 
 portant thing at that moment seemed to be that the 
 fire negatives were safe after all. 
 
 When he ran into the house, Allan held the three
 
 n8 Captain Kodak. 
 
 plates aloft and cried out to his mother and Edith, 
 " Guess ! " 
 
 " Something good you caught to-day ? " asked 
 Edith. 
 
 Mrs. Hartel saw something different in Allan's face. 
 " The fire negatives ! " she said, " you found 
 them ! " 
 
 " They are the fire negatives," Allan said exultantly, 
 "but I didn't find them exactly, the thief brought 
 them back." 
 
 " The thief brought them back ! " exclaimed 
 Edith. 
 
 Allan nodded. "And they're not scratched. Isn't 
 it lucky ? " 
 
 " Who was it ? " asked Mrs. Hartel. 
 " Cheney." 
 
 Mrs. Hartel shook her head regretfully. " I'm very 
 sorry it was Cheney." 
 
 Allan related the incident of the meeting, the strug 
 gle, and the confession. 
 
 " I think you acted rightly," said Mrs. Hartel. :< It 
 will be as well to say nothing more about it." 
 
 " Do you really think," asked Edith, " that he took 
 the plates on his father's account because he was 
 afraid the pictures might prove something against his 
 father?" 
 
 " I don't know," said Allan. " He wouldn't con 
 fess and I didn't much care to make him. Anyway, 
 I'm quite sure his father had nothing to do with the 
 fire. Mr. Dobbs doesn't think it was set afire, and 
 the factory people don't either." 
 
 " I'm glad," said Edith. " It seems dreadful to 
 think of any one deliberately setting fire to a 
 building."
 
 Great Expectations. 119 
 
 Dr. Hartel did not reach home until late that night, 
 but Allan waited up for him. He wanted to tell the 
 news himself. 
 
 The next morning he hurried over to Owen's and 
 to Detective Dobbs's house. Dobbs only remarked, 
 " I thought so." The detective seemed to take it for 
 granted that Cheney would go unpunished. " But he 
 should be thrashed for it," he said, and added : " How 
 about Sporty's picture ? " 
 
 " I think it is going to be good," Allan replied. 
 " I'll fetch you a proof to-day." He could see that 
 Dobbs was more interested in Sporty's picture than in 
 anything else, though he seemed to enjoy all of the 
 proofs of the pictures made in New York which Allan 
 had to show him that afternoon. 
 
 Meanwhile, Allan had gone to the factory superin 
 tendent and delivered the plates to him. The super 
 intendent was delighted. 
 
 " I don't know whether they are going to be of any 
 use to us," he said, " but I hated to lose them that 
 way, and they may be very important. Matling ! " 
 called the superintendent to a man at a desk in the 
 corner of the factory office, " make out a check to 
 young Hartel for fifty dollars, and take it in to Mr. 
 Ames." 
 
 Allan gave his full name ; the check was signed by 
 a white-haired man in the adjoining room, who came 
 out from the inner office as the cashier was handing 
 the check to Allan. 
 
 " So you are the boy who photographed the fire," 
 said the white-haired man. 
 
 " I guess he would like to do it often," laughed the 
 superintendent. 
 
 " Probably if it paid as well. But it is no more
 
 120 Captain Kodak. 
 
 than the plates are worth to us just now. I want to 
 see them." And the white-haired man examined the 
 plates with great interest. "They don't look much 
 like the prints, do they ? I tell you," he said, turn 
 ing again to Allan, " you must let us call on you some 
 time when we want a piece of photographic work done. 
 We probably shan't have a lawsuit in mind again, but 
 there are things we need from time to time, and you 
 could make use of a little money now and then, I sup 
 pose photography costs something, doesn't it? " 
 
 Allan said that he should be glad to try his hand at 
 anything that he was able to do. " You see, I'm only 
 a beginner," he said. He liked the white-haired man, 
 who had a pleasant look in his eyes and whose smile 
 was very friendly. 
 
 When Allan left the factory the feeling of good 
 fortune, of having succeeded after threatened failure, 
 of new opportunities for his photographic enthusiasm, 
 not to mention the feeling of the check in his pocket 
 and the new privileges it promised, gave him a cheer 
 ful expression of countenance which doubtless ap 
 peared to Owen when he met him on his way back to 
 the house. 
 
 " What luck ? " asked Owen, cheerily. 
 
 " Good luck," answered Allan. " Everything is all 
 settled. They paid me for the plates, and the old 
 gentleman the president of the company I guess he 
 is thinks there are other things I might do for 
 them." 
 
 " That's great ! " exclaimed Owen. 
 
 " And, Owen," Allan went on, " I shan't have a 
 bit of fun out of this money until you have divided 
 it with me." 
 
 " No, no ! " exclaimed Owen, sincerely, " I don't
 
 "'Well,' interposed Owen, '1 tell you what we might do.'"
 
 Great Expectations. 123 
 
 think I should have any of that. I only helped you ; 
 it was your camera." 
 
 " But, Owen," insisted Allan, "you did a good deal 
 more than help me ; you really did most of the work. 
 Anyway, I couldn't enjoy the money unless you 
 shared it. It wouldn't seem fair." 
 
 " But I couldn't feel comfortable, either, if I took 
 it." 
 
 " Why not, Owen ? You could use it getting some 
 new stuff, and " 
 
 " Well," interposed Owen. " I tell you what we 
 might do. Ever since I saw those rooms in your 
 coach-house, I have been thinking that it would be a 
 fine idea for us to have them for a club a camera 
 club, if your father would let us have them. Now, if 
 you really think you couldn't be happy with all that 
 money, why not take some of it and spend it fixing 
 up the rooms and getting things for a club ? " 
 
 " Splendid ! " cried Allan. " It wouldn't seem so 
 good as giving to you, Owen ; but it would be great 
 to have a club, and we could all have the use of better 
 materials than we could afford to have on our own 
 account." 
 
 " Besides," continued Owen, " McConnell was with 
 us, and he would feel badly if he wasn't counted in. 
 He told me to-day his brother was going to give him 
 money for a camera next Saturday, and it would be 
 right to count him in as a what do you call it? 
 charter member of the club. After that the others 
 who came in would have to pay an initiation fee." 
 
 " Yes," Allan assented, " we must have McConnell." 
 
 " Do you think your father would let us use the 
 coach-house ? " 
 
 "I'm sure he would," Allan declared. "There are
 
 124 Captain Kodak. 
 
 three rooms there he never uses, and hello! there's 
 McConnell now." 
 
 McConnell was on his wheel, and was riding with 
 his hands in his pockets a trick to which he was 
 addicted. When he saw the boys he made so sudden 
 a movement to extricate his hands and grasp the handle 
 bars for a quick stop, that he had a narrow escape from 
 a tumble in the gutter. 
 
 " McConnell," said Owen, " if you think you can 
 do that again, I'll go and get my camera." 
 
 " I hope you didn't worry," said McConnell, coolly. 
 " I can stop and dismount with my hands in my 
 pockets and not spill the machine either." 
 
 " You ought to have joined the circus," Allan said. 
 
 " Or Buffalo Bill," added Owen. 
 
 " Oh, say ! " exclaimed McConnell, " did you hear 
 that Buffalo Bill was going to be at Fitchville next 
 month ? " 
 
 " The Camera Club will have to go over," said 
 Owen. 
 
 " The Camera Club ? " queried McConnell. 
 
 "Yes, McConnell; you didn't know, did you, that 
 you are a member of the Camera Club ? " 
 
 " Am I ? Without a camera ? " 
 
 " Well, you'll have one before the club gets ready 
 to be a club." 
 
 " I will have one soon," said McConnell. " I hope 
 next week. But what do you mean by the club ? 
 
 " We have been talking it over," Allan said, " and 
 Owen thinks we might have a club in our coach-house 
 rooms. I got my money from the factory people 
 to-day." 
 
 "You did?" exclaimed McConnell; "without the 
 plates ? "
 
 Great Expectations. 125 
 
 " But I got the plates again ; " and Allan explained 
 the situation to McConnell, how they had decided to 
 use half the money in fitting up the rooms, and that 
 Owen, McConnell, and Allan were to be charter mem 
 bers of the club. 
 
 McConnell did not conceal his delight over this 
 news. 
 
 " Then I must have a camera ! " he cried. " And 
 are you going to get a new camera, Allan ? " 
 
 " Yes, I think I'll get a cartridge Kodak." 
 
 " Then why not sell me your Wizard ? " 
 
 " I want to sell it, and if you'd like it " 
 
 " I would like it," said McConnell. " I know what 
 it can do." 
 
 Allan mused a moment. " But I haven't thought 
 anything about what I should sell it for. It's second 
 hand now." 
 
 " Oh, it isn't very second-hand," McConnell said. 
 
 " It is a fifteen-dollar camera," said Allan. " Would 
 ten dollars be too much ? " 
 
 " I think that would be very fair," said Owen. 
 
 " So do I," added McConnell, "and that's just what 
 Bill has promised me." 
 
 " Then we are all fixed ! " laughed Owen. " Suppose 
 the club goes and has a meeting ? " 
 
 " I'll agree to that," said Allan, " if you fellows will 
 go with me to Wincher's while I get my cartridge 
 camera. I can't wait." 
 
 " That's all right," said Owen, " we'll have the first 
 meeting of the club at Wincher's ; and besides, we 
 want to see what he has that we can use for the club, 
 don't we ? " 
 
 "Surely," Allan assented, "and the club will be on 
 hand to say what it wants."
 
 1 26 Captain Kodak. 
 
 McConnell was immensely happy, and turned a 
 handspring before getting on his wheel. 
 
 Allan knew that Wincher had a "four by five" 
 cartridge Kodak in stock, and he went straight to the 
 point as soon as he arrived at the store. Wincher put 
 out the camera on the case, and Allan lifted it with 
 affectionate eagerness. They opened the folding front, 
 and Wincher reached for a film cartridge and showed 
 Allan how it was placed in position by removing the 
 sliding back of the box. It was all very pretty and 
 ingenious and simple, and the boys were delighted. 
 To make Allan's satisfaction complete Wincher gave 
 a cartridge with the camera for the twenty-five dol 
 lars. 
 
 " And now," said Allan, " the club can do as it likes 
 with the other twenty-five." 
 
 " Don't you think," said Owen, " that we had better 
 speak to your father first, and then make our plans ? " 
 
 " If you like," Allan said; " but I know it will be 
 all right. And then we might look around the rooms 
 and decide what we need." 
 
 Dr. Hartel was much pleased with the plans for a 
 club. He promised the boys several chairs, a box- 
 scales, and other furnishings, which he had in mind, 
 and gave them some advice as to rules which they 
 must adopt as to the use and care of the dark room. 
 It was agreed that the rules should be written and 
 posted in the rooms. 
 
 " You see," said the Doctor, " when your new mem 
 bers come in there would be confusion if you did not 
 have working rules and regulations." 
 
 The boys had not thought much about the other 
 members. " I wish there never would be any more," 
 said ^McConnell, "but just us."
 
 Great Expectations. 127 
 
 " But your new members will bring more funds and 
 you can improve your outfit. However," added the 
 Doctor, " you must limit your membership." 
 
 " Do you mean, The Hazenfield Camera Club 
 Limited ? " asked Allan. 
 
 " No," laughed the Doctor, " that Limited means 
 something different. I mean that you must decide 
 now to have a certain number of members at the 
 most say, twenty-five." 
 
 " Twenty-five ! " exclaimed Allan. " Where could 
 we put them ? " 
 
 " Oh, they wouldn't all be there at the same time. 
 But you boys must plan all these things for yourselves. 
 Find out how the best camera clubs are managed, and 
 follow their example. Make yourselves at home in 
 the coach-house, and call on me when you need help." 
 
 The boys did immediately proceed to make them 
 selves at home in the club rooms, which they surveyed 
 with a pride greater than they ever had experienced 
 before. The rooms, small as they were, seemed 
 spacious and important, and gave the boys a grown-up 
 and authoritative feeling. 
 
 " Do you want your camera now ? " asked Allan, 
 handing the Wizard to McConnell. 
 
 " But I haven't the money yet," faltered McConnell. 
 
 " What of that ? I don't need it. Whenever you 
 are ready." 
 
 McConnell murmured a " Thank you, Allan," and 
 gave the Wizard a friendly hug. 
 
 "And now," said Owen, "before we go any further, 
 I nominate for President of the club, Mr. Allan 
 Hartel." 
 
 " Hold on, Owen ! " interposed Allan, " you are 
 the oldest, you must be President."
 
 128 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Owen ignored this interruption. " All those in 
 favor will please say, Aye ! " and Owen and McCon- 
 nell roared a tremendous " Aye ! " 
 
 " It's carried unanimously ! " exclaimed Owen. 
 
 "But, Owen " 
 
 " And I move further," went on Owen, " that Mr. 
 Percy McConnell be Secretary. All in favor will 
 please say, Aye ! " and Allan now joined with Owen in 
 a resounding affirmative vote. McConnell looked 
 overpowered. 
 
 " Then you must be Treasurer, Owen," declared 
 Allan. 
 
 " Then elect me unanimously," said Owen, " or 
 there will be trouble ! " 
 
 "All in favor " Allan began. 
 
 " Aye ! " shouted McConnell, Allan following after. 
 
 " All unanimously elected ! " said Owen. " That's 
 good. Now we are a club ! "
 
 X. 
 
 THE CAMERA CLUB. 
 
 i 
 
 DON'T think," 
 said Allan that 
 afternoon, " that 
 any club ever had 
 more officers in pro 
 portion to its mem 
 bership than this 
 has." 
 
 " Yes," said Owen, 
 " if we went into bat 
 tle now the number 
 of officers killed would 
 be simply awful." 
 
 " I suppose Mebley 
 will want to come in," 
 said McConnell. 
 "And Varner," added Allan. 
 "And May Pelwin," Owen ventured. 
 " Will there be girls here ? " asked McConnell, with 
 
 O 
 
 perhaps a little of disappointment in his tone. 
 
 "Why not?" demanded Allan. 
 
 " Oh," said McConnell, with a shrug of his shoul 
 ders, " I didn't think they had girls in a club. I knew 
 they had them in societies, and associations, and lodges, 
 and circles, but not in clubs." 
 K 129
 
 130 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said Owen, " girls belong to everything 
 nowadays." 
 
 " I don't suppose we need worry," said Allan, "they 
 may not think it is nice enough to join. We've got 
 to fix this place up a good deal before many will want 
 to join. Don't you think we ought to paint it a 
 little?" 
 
 " I think we ought to clean it a little anyway," was 
 Owen's opinion, " clear out the dust from the front 
 room. You've got the dark room all right. Suppose 
 we have another tap and sink, so that two of us can 
 work at the same time if we want to ? " 
 
 " Good idea," assented Allan, " and an extra lamp. 
 Then we will want another fixing-tray a large one; 
 another rack ; and I was looking at that washing-box 
 Wincher has ; what do you say to that ? " 
 
 " I have been thinking," said Owen, " that we might 
 have a gas meter put in and use these gas connections. 
 Then we could run a line of pipe over the two sinks, 
 and use gas in sliding-front red-glass boxes or some 
 thing of that sort." 
 
 Allan and McConnell both thought this was a 
 capital idea. " And what do you think," asked 
 Allan, "of boxing in the head of the stairs, so as to 
 keep out the light coming from the door in the day 
 time ? We should have to do that anyhow to keep it 
 warm here in winter." 
 
 " That's so," said Owen. 
 
 Allan drew from his pocket a piece of paper covered 
 with pencil lines. "This is what I really was thinking 
 of doing here," he said. The boys studied the diagram 
 in which Allan had planned certain improvements in 
 the dark room, and had set off the smaller of the two 
 rooms on the front for a printing room.
 
 The Camera Club. 131 
 
 "Just the thing! " was Owen's comment. 
 
 Yet, after much discussion, which occupied most of 
 the following morning, the boys made radical changes 
 in these plans. They finally decided to divide with a 
 partition the room which had been used for develop 
 ing, leaving access from the stairs to the front room 
 without interference with the dark room work ; and 
 by making the dark room smaller several advantages 
 seemed to be gained. 
 
 Unfortunately the estimates for these changes, from 
 the plumber and carpenter, reached forty-five dollars. 
 
 " Then we can do the carpentering ourselves," said 
 Allan. "That will make quite a difference." Upon 
 inquiry they found this would make ten dollars 
 difference. 
 
 " And we will have the initiation fees," said Owen. 
 
 They had decided on an initiation fee of three 
 dollars for new members, with monthly dues of fifty 
 cents. 
 
 " We have four applications," said McConnell. 
 " That will make twelve dollars." 
 
 " Then we are safe enough," said Owen, " for there 
 will be other new members as soon as we let it be 
 known that we have a camera club with rooms here." 
 
 The week following was a busy one for the boys. 
 It was early September, and the weather was warm ; 
 so warm that the amateur carpenters in the coach 
 house found their work very arduous at times, and 
 were not unhappy when they were compelled to wait 
 occasionally in order to keep out of the way of the 
 plumbers. 
 
 Before the work was finished there were three more 
 applications for membership. 
 
 "Say!" cried McConnell, one afternoon, "guess
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 who wants to be a member ? Oh, you never will 
 Mr. Thornton ! " 
 
 Mr. Thornton was the principal of the high 
 i & 
 
 school. 
 
 Allan dropped his hammer. " Mr. Thornton ! " 
 
 " Yes. He says he thinks it is a good idea, and 
 that he has been wanting a place where he could do 
 his own developing if he wanted to." 
 
 " Mr. Thornton boards at Mrs. Peckpole's," said 
 Owen, " and you know what a crank she is. Nobody 
 could ever do any developing in her house." 
 
 " I never thought of men and women joining the 
 club," said Allan, a little perplexed. 
 
 McConnell was decidedly amused. " What will 
 they think of us kids for officers ? " 
 
 " We shall have to have a regular constitution with 
 by-laws," said Allan, " and then they can elect new 
 officers." 
 
 What actually happened was this : Within two 
 weeks there were twenty applications for membership 
 in the club. The applicants included Miss Manston, 
 the Mayor's daughter, Mrs. Creigh, the librarian, 
 Mr. Austin, the Congregational clergyman, Mr. 
 Goodstone of the bank, and Major Mines from the 
 Ardmore Farm, an aggregation that filled Allan 
 with no little trepidation. When a constitution and 
 by-laws had been drawji up, a thing happened that very 
 much surprised Allan and his first associates; for on 
 motion of Mr. Thornton all of the original officers 
 were reflected for a year. Allan could scarcely be 
 lieve the vote, and Owen grew very red with embar 
 rassment. As for McConnell, he seemed perfectly 
 at home, and only chuckled with pleasure as he 
 recorded the vote in his note-book.
 
 E? 
 
 a 
 
 V) 
 
 txo
 
 The Camera Club. 135 
 
 The first formal meeting had been held in the 
 larger of the two front rooms in the coach-house, and 
 the fifteen members who attended did not find them 
 selves greatly crowded. Under the new constitution 
 two officers were added a Vice-President and a 
 Curator. Mrs. Creigh was elected Vice-President, and 
 the office of Curator was bestowed upon Mr. Good- 
 stone, who, it appeared after a while (the boys could 
 not fancy, at first, what a curator was for), would 
 supervise the buying of supplies for the club, and 
 have authority over the club rooms. The funds from 
 the increased membership enabled the club to com 
 plete in a satisfactory way the arrangement of the dark 
 room and other quarters. One feature of the small 
 room created by the dark room partition was a series 
 of lockers, each member thus being provided with a 
 place in which to keep his personal implements and 
 supplies. 
 
 Dr. Hartel refused to accept any rental for the 
 rooms, but did not refuse an election as honorary 
 member, and watched the progress of the club with 
 great pride. When Edith read in the Hazenfield 
 Herald about the Camera Club election of officers, 
 and saw Allan's name at the head of the list, she 
 laughed with pleasure. 
 
 It was at the first meeting that Mr. Austin had 
 said, " We must have an outing. There will be but 
 a few more weeks of good outing weather." 
 
 The proposal met with favor. Mr. Goodstone 
 suggested Saturday afternoons for weekly club 
 " meets," and the first meet took place on the follow 
 ing Saturday, when twelve of the members, young and 
 old, went on a short tramp into the hills. 
 
 Allan thought that nothing about the trip was so in-
 
 136 Captain Kodak. 
 
 teresting, so truly picturesque, as the club itself; for it 
 was a mixed company truly. The most serious-minded 
 photographer in the group was Major Mines, whose 
 hired man, Napoleon, a portly negro, carried an im 
 mense outfit, bristling with shining modern improve 
 ments, heavy with conveniences, and packed into the 
 corners with things you might want. Some of the 
 boys were always ready to help the Major get Napo 
 leon and his outfit over a fence ; and, indeed, such 
 assistance was necessary if the Major was to make any 
 progress. The Major made two pictures during the 
 day, and for these he made elaborate preparations, 
 choosing his view-point after long study on a plan of 
 action he had laid out, and setting up his camera only 
 after long wrestlings with the many improvements and 
 conveniences that were stowed in his carrying case. 
 His bald head remained under the focussing cloth for 
 minutes at a time. Twice he hobbled down a field to 
 break off discordant sprigs and branches. When he 
 made the exposures his face was as tense and solemn 
 as if he was giving the signal at an execution. 
 
 A little Miss Illwin also took her photography with 
 great solemnity. Miss Illwin was very cautious, too. 
 She did not believe in wasting plates. All the after 
 noon she debated about a good point of view. She 
 scrutinized the spots selected by other members, and 
 then shook her head. " The light doesn't seem quite 
 right," she said. Miss Illwin had a small, dainty 
 camera, and she studied the finder frequently, pucker 
 ing her white forehead and shifting her eye-glasses in 
 an earnest and tireless way. At last toward four 
 o'clock she was discovered on the brow of a low hill 
 overlooking a brook. For a long time she stood there 
 in the sun, quite motionless, with her head under the
 
 The Camera Club. 
 
 137 
 
 "Into the hills." 
 
 focussing cloth. Then her head lifted, a plate holder 
 was placed in position, the exposure accomplished, 
 and she turned and hurried after the nearest group of 
 members. 
 
 " I made an exposure over there," she said, with 
 something like a sigh, " but I don't see why I did it. 
 It would have been much better at the foot of the 
 hill ! " 
 
 Mr. Goodstone and Varner and Mebley were all 
 very exact and painstaking, but they took as much 
 pleasure in shooting at one thing as another. Miss 
 Manston frequently asked Allan's assistance here and 
 at her house. Mrs. Creigh was enthusiastic over 
 many things, and worked with much ardor under a 
 heavy, satin-lined focussing cloth. Young Coggshall 
 complained during the whole trip, of the heat of 
 the sun, of the stupidity of the landscapes, of the 
 meanness of plate-holders, of the superiority of other 
 landscapes, other times of the year, other kinds of 
 plate-holders.
 
 ij'8 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Mr. Austin was a very different companion. He 
 watched Allan and the boys at work, encouraged Mrs. 
 Creigh, gave a hand to Major Mines, assisted Mr. 
 Goodstone in a tape-measuring experiment, led an 
 expedition to a hillside farmhouse after a pail of milk, 
 and joined McConnell in a camera duel, Owen stand 
 ing by and dropping a handkerchief as a signal to fire. 
 
 In the suburbs of Hazenfield Mr. Austin found a 
 group of barefooted youngsters, a subject entirely to 
 his taste no one excelled Mr. Austin in pictures of 
 children and while he was photographing the group 
 strung along in the road, Allan caught both group and 
 photographer, laughingly turning his head when he 
 had done so to see whether any one had caught him 
 in turn. This happened many times during the day, 
 that the picture-makers were pictured. Indeed, Allan's 
 pictures were almost entirely of the club itself. 
 
 The same thing was true of the club's trip along 
 the river front, where shore and river offered so many 
 interesting backgrounds to any theme the camera 
 might select. On this day McConnell made a great 
 success with a train coming through a cutting. 
 
 It was at Allan's suggestion that the club decided 
 to spend a Saturday at Central Park in New York, 
 and this proved to be one of the most entertaining and 
 successful trips of the club. In the first place nine 
 teen members mustered in the morning, which was re 
 garded as a large attendance; and Mr. Goodstone, who 
 was kept at the bank in the morning, hunted up the 
 party before the afternoon was far advanced. 
 
 " This puts me in mind of a Cook's tourist party," 
 said Mr. Austin. 
 
 " With the Major * personally conducting ' us," 
 laughed Mrs. Creigh.
 
 The Critical Moment.
 
 The Camera Club. 
 
 141 
 
 "A group of barefooted youngsters." 
 
 The fact is that while Owen, as treasurer, had at 
 tended to getting the tickets at the station, and Allan, 
 after consultation with Mr. Thornton, had written to 
 the office of the Park' Board for permits for the club, 
 the Major, by general consent, had been selected to 
 lead the party in the park, he being most familiar with 
 all the features of this beauty spot in the heart of 
 Manhattan. 
 
 The lakes and bridges and grottoes of the park 
 never were more ardently photographed than on the 
 day when the Hazenfield Camera Club descended 
 upon it. Even the big white bear at the Zoo, who 
 always looked bored when he saw a camera, stared 
 curiously at the Hazenfield party ; the ostriches looked
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 scornful, and the rhinoceros seemed likely to strangle 
 himself in an effort to keep himself out of sight under 
 water. 
 
 Of course Allan photographed the elephants. All 
 the members wanted to photograph the elephants, and 
 Major Mines induced the keeper to make special dis- 
 
 " The big white bear." 
 
 play of the Princess ; and the Princess, while not at all 
 guilty of looking pleasant, at least turned an almost 
 motionless profile to the bristling battery of cameras. 
 
 " Mercy ! " cried Miss Manston, " I never should 
 have supposed anything was so hard as photograph 
 ing an elephant with so many people looking on! " 
 
 There were a great many onlookers, and many of
 
 The Camera Club. 
 
 them felt quite free to comment, not merely on the 
 elephant and the camera, but on the photographers. 
 Miss Illwin, with her head under the focussing cloth, 
 was an object of much interest. Miss Illwin had 
 a little loop stitched to her hat so that she could sus 
 pend it from a hook on the under side of the tripod 
 after it had been set up. This left her free to study 
 
 "All the members wanted to photograph the elephants." 
 
 her ground glass without greater disturbance than the 
 mussing of her hair, which did not seem to annoy her 
 at all. 
 
 It was a balmy day, and the out-door cages were 
 full of listless and sleepy lions, tigers, leopards, wild 
 cats ; bison, zebras, camels, and deer roamed in the 
 inclosures ; the eagles screamed, and the monkeys 
 were in their most talkative mood. Photographing 
 through the bars was a delicate problem. The pelican
 
 I 4 4 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " Photographing through the bars was a delicate problem." 
 
 and other queer birds strutted and squeaked and flapped 
 their wings at the visitors and at each other. The 
 children who peered between the bars of the cages, 
 who laughed with the parrots, threw peanuts to the 
 monkeys, or stared in awe at the dromedary, were a 
 camera theme in themselves ; and Mr. Austin often 
 was seen to be picturing or talking to them, or slipping 
 pennies into their hands on the outskirts of the crowd 
 at the candy stall. 
 
 Allan and McConnell were commenting on the 
 mountain goat, and McConnell was saying, " He has 
 a Van Dyck beard, hasn't he ? " when Allan caught 
 sight of a man over by the zebras, who was studying 
 the finder of a hand camera, and thoughtfully pucker 
 ing his mouth until his mustache looked more than 
 ever like the bristles of a brush. 
 
 Allan left McConnell and ran toward the man.
 
 The Camera Club. 
 
 " Queer birds." 
 
 " Hello, Mr. Dobbs ! " 
 
 " Well, I'll be blowed ! " exclaimed the man; "where 
 did you come from ? " 
 
 " You're a nice detective," laughed Allan ; " here's 
 half of Hazenfield, and you haven't seen us ! " 
 
 Dobbs grinned. " I just got here." Then he held 
 up his camera. " I had to get one, and I sneaked up 
 here to try it. The worst crook in the country would 
 be perfectly safe to-day I haven't been able to see 
 anything but this finder since ten o'clock. But what 
 is the crowd doing here ? why, there's Major Mines, 
 and Mr. Thornton and Goodstone." 
 
 "This is the club," said Allan. 
 
 "The club?" 
 
 " Yes ; haven't you heard of it ? the Hazenfield 
 Camera Club." 
 
 " Why, yes," Dobbs said. " I did hear something
 
 146 Captain Kodak. 
 
 about a club, but I thought it was only two or three 
 of you boys." 
 
 " It has grown since then." 
 
 " Evidently hello, McConnell ! You're in it too. 
 Say, I want to be a member, if you'll take me." 
 
 "^1 don't see why not," laughed Allan, " now that 
 you're a photographer." 
 
 "Well," said Dobbs, moving the bristles of his 
 mustache again, " I'm not much of a photographer 
 yet. I've only had courage to push the button once. 
 I was just going to take the zebra thought Sporty 
 might like to see it." 
 
 ^ " What kind of a camera is yours ? " asked Mc 
 Connell. 
 
 "Just a plain Detective, I suppose," interposed 
 Allan, laughing. 
 
 " It's a Dashaway," said Dobbs. " I got it through 
 a pard of mine here in New York. He says it's a 
 good one. Sporty and me'll have great fun with it. 
 What do I have to do to get into your club ? " 
 
 "That's easy," McConnell said. "Three dollars 
 initiation fee and fifty cents a month." 
 
 " It's too cheap," said Dobbs. " How do you get 
 initiated? in the dark, of course." 
 
 " Yes," said Allan ; " you have to sit on a tripod, 
 focus a camera over your left shoulder, and recite 
 the eiko-hydro developer backwards at the same 
 time." 
 
 "Or treat?" asked Dobbs. 
 
 " Or treat to a bottle of developer." 
 
 "I'll risk it," said Dobbs, "if you'll let me in." 
 
 Mr. Thornton came up and recognized the detec 
 tive. " Good afternoon, Mr. Dobbs ; looking for the 
 owner of a camera ? "
 
 The Camera Club. 147 
 
 " No," returned Dobbs; " I've found him. This is 
 mine, and I want to join your club if you'll let me." 
 
 " The more the merrier, Mr. Dobbs. You must 
 join us to-day, anyhow. They are not fitting out the 
 detective force with cameras, are they ? " 
 
 " Not yet. There is no business about this. I am 
 playing truant to-day." 
 
 "I dare say you deserve a holiday," said Mr. 
 Thornton. 
 
 " Well, I've been tied down awfully close to that 
 Bain case. Glad it's over." Dobbs turned to Allan. 
 " You remember the Ghost ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, we sent him up yesterday for fifteen years." 
 
 " Fifteen years ! " Allan recalled the white face of 
 the man at the police station. It was the first time that 
 any one he had ever seen had been sent to prison. Fif 
 teen years ! It seemed like a sentence for life. Could 
 that white face grow any whiter in fifteen years ? 
 
 " He was a hard case," said Mr. Thornton. 
 
 " He was that," said Dobbs. " As bad as they 
 make them. But a queer fellow ; you never could 
 make him out." 
 
 " What did he say when they sentenced him ? " 
 Allan asked of Dobbs. 
 
 " Not a word, you couldn't get anything out of him. 
 Even ghosts speak, they say. But this one was silent 
 as the grave." 
 
 " Did you take the zebra ? " broke in McConnell. 
 
 " No," said Dobbs. " I was just flirting with him. 
 But I think I will take him." 
 
 It ended by their all following the zebra, who 
 looked very much amused, and finally came over to 
 push his nose through the wires.
 
 148 Captain Kodak. 
 
 "He isn't painted, either," said McConnell, scratch 
 ing the zebra's back. 
 
 " Oh, this is a very honest show ! " laughed the de 
 tective. 
 
 It turned out that Dobbs knew a good many of the 
 people at the Zoo, and before the company started 
 homeward he had made it possible for the club to do 
 pretty much as it pleased. 
 
 When the club was ready to start, McConnell found 
 every one but Miss Illwin. Owen had seen her over 
 by the rhinoceros tank. Mr. Goodstone and Mrs. 
 Creigh had left her with the deer. But no one was 
 able to actually find her. 
 
 " Where can she be? " queried Miss Manston. 
 
 " You don't suppose anything could have happened, 
 do you ? " asked Mrs. Creigh, her face indicating real 
 anxiety. 
 
 " Well," said Major Mines, mischievously, " she 
 was taking the tiger at twenty feet. It seemed safe 
 enough." 
 
 " The lady or the tiger," muttered Mr. Thornton. 
 
 " I really think," said Mr. Goodstone, solemnly, 
 " that some of us ought to look up the rhinoceros 
 part of the story." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " asked Miss Manston, half in 
 clined to think this was no joke. She was so afraid 
 of rhinoceroses herself. "Horrors! Suppose she fell 
 in!" 
 
 " Don't ! " protested Mrs. Creigh with a shiver. 
 
 McConnell and Allan went out as a scouting party, 
 with the result that Miss Illwin was found sitting on a 
 bench by the lake, her camera carrying case beside 
 her. She was reading a book. As he came up Allan 
 noticed that she was without her hat.
 
 The Camera Club. 149 
 
 " You know," she said, when she saw Allan, " my 
 hat blew into the water when I was setting up just 
 now. Wasn't it annoying ? I was afraid I should 
 have to wait until it drifted over, but that boy with the 
 little yacht aimed his boat so nicely that it caught the 
 hat not far from the shore and now it is pushing it 
 over. See ! " and Miss Illwin pointed toward the 
 middle of the pond. " Unfortunately the wind has 
 shifted once or twice, and the yacht has been tacking 
 about in a most provoking way. But there is nothing 
 but to be patient." 
 
 " We are all ready to go," said Allan. 
 
 " Are you ? Then I suppose you'll have to leave 
 me unless this boat stops tacking." 
 
 " There it comes ! " yelled the boys who owned the 
 boat. 
 
 The yacht was making straight for the shore. But 
 when it had come within about fifteen feet of the bank, 
 the band of the hat became loosened from the bow, 
 and the yacht came jauntily into port, leaving the hat 
 in its wake. 
 
 " Dear me ! " exclaimed Miss Illwin. " How pro 
 voking." 
 
 "The breeze is carrying it, anyway," said McCon- 
 nell. 
 
 But the hat drifted very slowly, and finally stopped 
 altogether, anchored by a water-lily. 
 
 " If you will let me have your tripod, Miss Illwin," 
 said Allan, " I think I can reach it with that. 
 
 A single leg of the tripod proved insufficient, but, 
 by hitching two of them to the top piece, Allan man 
 aged to reach the vagrant hat. 
 
 " Is it spoiled ? " asked McConnell. 
 
 Miss Illwin shook the bedraggled hat. " I'm afraid
 
 if Captain Kodak. 
 
 it is," she said, adjusting it with a wince, and pushing 
 through the pins. " What a providence that I didn't 
 wear the one with the feather ! " 
 
 The club appeared much relieved to see Miss Ill- 
 
 win. 
 
 Everybody had a story about the loss of a hat, but 
 no one claimed to have recovered one under such pic 
 turesque conditions. 
 
 " Well," said the Major, as they walked toward the 
 :< L" station, " I'll wager none of you ever had your 
 hat blow into the crater of a volcano." 
 
 " Gracious ! Suppose you had gone with it ! " cried 
 Miss Manston. 
 
 "Couldn't you get it with a pole, or a hook and 
 line ? " asked McConneil. 
 
 "No, I couldn't," grunted the Major. " Never saw 
 the crater of Vesuvius, did you ? " 
 
 " No," admitted McConneil. 
 
 " Well, it isn't good fishing there." 
 
 " Fancy ! " exclaimed Mrs. Creigh. 
 
 " And I had to go back bareheaded I refused a 
 crazy bonnet that one of the guides found for me 
 and those people at the hotel said, c These Americans 
 are so funny ! ' 
 
 " Where shall the club go next ! " some one asked. 
 
 " Better wait until you find out what sins you com 
 mitted to-day," said Mr. Thornton.
 
 XI. 
 
 AT CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 f I AHE scene at the 
 JL club that night 
 was a busy one. 
 
 Mrs. Creigh and Mr. 
 Thornton were first to 
 begin developing, and 
 several other members 
 who did not have dark 
 rooms at home came 
 around and waited their 
 turn. 
 
 Dr. Hartel had ad 
 vised Allan not to do 
 any developing under 
 any circumstances, but 
 to wait, until the following day, when everything was 
 quiet. Allan thought that anyway it was but fair for 
 him, living so near, to make use of the dark room at 
 times when there was not a pressure of other members. 
 It was the next morning that Allan and McCon- 
 nell developed their plates and films. Allan had two 
 wrongly focussed pictures, and McConnell had made 
 a double that perched a goat on the back of a drome 
 dary. But most of the pictures were good, and gave 
 both boys a great deal of delight.
 
 152 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " Wait till Bill sees this ! " exclaimed McConnell, 
 holding up his picture of the lion cage. 
 
 Allan highly prized a picture of the eagles, and an 
 other of the club emerging from one of the arches 
 under the drive. 
 
 " Do you know," said Allan, " the club won't be 
 taking another outing for a couple of weeks. I wish 
 we could go to Coney Island before that. If we wait 
 two weeks they might not want to go there, and I'm 
 afraid if the weather gets cooler the s'eason will be over 
 in a week." 
 
 " What do we care for the season? " asked McCon 
 nell. 
 
 " The season doesn't make any difference to the 
 ocean, except that it's the clearer, I suppose, when 
 so many people don't wash in it ; but it makes a great 
 deal of difference at the beach. It's the people I care 
 for, the people and all the things they have there to 
 show the people." 
 
 " That's so," said McConnell. 
 
 " I wonder if Owen would go ? " 
 
 "Of course he would. I guess my mother would 
 let me go with you." 
 
 " Suppose we go on Wednesday. School begins next 
 week." 
 
 " How much would it cost ? " asked McConnell. 
 
 Allan figured the thing out on the back of a plate- 
 box. " If we carry part of our lunch with us it ought 
 to cost about seventy cents for each of us." 
 
 " And we could get some great things down there," 
 commented McConnell. " We could shoot from the 
 Ferris wheel." 
 
 " Yes, and we could shoot the chutes." 
 
 McConnell chuckled. " I'd like to go."
 
 At Coney Island. 153 
 
 Owen liked the idea. " I've been wanting to go 
 down all summer. And what do you say to this ? 
 There is a freight-boat that stops at Hewlett's Dock 
 every morning about seven and comes back every 
 night. I know one of the men on it, and I think we 
 could get him to take us down to Twenty-something 
 Street and back. That would only leave us the Coney 
 Island boat to pay for." 
 
 " Good ! " cried Allan. 
 
 Owen's plan was carried out. Wednesday morning 
 opened cloudy, and the boys were not in very high 
 spirits when they reached the rendezvous at Howlett's 
 Dock. 
 
 "Is there any use going when it's so cloudy?" 
 asked Owen. 
 
 McConnell was certain it would clear. 
 
 A man was fishing from the end of the dock. Allan 
 went over and asked him if he thought it was going 
 to rain. 
 
 " Rain before seven, clear before eleven," said the 
 man, without looking up. 
 
 " But it isn't raining," chimed in McConnell. 
 
 " Yes, it is," said the man, without moving ; and 
 then Allan felt a drop on his hand. 
 
 " What a strange man," said McConnell, as they 
 moved away. 
 
 " When they are queer like that they always know 
 about the weather," said Allan. 
 
 " What did he say ? " asked Owen. 
 
 " That it would clear before eleven." 
 
 " Then that's all we want. We won't get to Coney 
 Island much before twelve." 
 
 The fisherman was right. The light drizzle fell 
 until after nine. At ten the clouds began to lift; and
 
 1 54 Captain Kodak. 
 
 while they were on their way down the bay on the 
 Coney Island boat, the sun came forth cheerily. 
 
 Allan celebrated the arrival of the sunlight by 
 
 photographing the group of Italian musicians on the 
 
 "The group of Italian musicians." 
 
 upper deck, and McConnell blazed away with the 
 Wizard at an ocean steamer that had just come over 
 the bar. 
 
 An old gentleman in a bicycle suit who sat smoking 
 at the forward rail, after watching the three boys with 
 cameras, fell to talking with them, and soon had ex 
 amined all three apparatuses in a way that indicated 
 some knowledge of photography. 
 
 " These are all very convenient," he said. " They 
 make me want to take up photography again."
 
 At Coney Island. 155 
 
 " Did you once have a camera ? " asked Allan. 
 
 " Yes, when I was younger I had a wet-plate outfit. 
 I don't suppose you know what that was ? " 
 
 The boys shook their heads. 
 
 " Well, in the wet-plate days, before there were any 
 dry plates such as you use, and very long before there 
 were any films," the old gentleman added, indicating 
 Allan's Kodak, " we had to coat and sensitize our own 
 plates before exposing them. We had to do this 
 where we made the picture, or very near it, for we had 
 to expose the plate while the coating was still some 
 what moist." 
 
 " It must have been a lot of trouble," said McCon- 
 nell. 
 
 " It was ; but I enjoyed it." 
 
 " Then you had to develop them right away, too ? " 
 suggested Allan. 
 
 "Yes, we had to do the whole thing sensitize, 
 expose, and develop at the one time. Ah !" con 
 tinued the old gentleman, slapping his knee, " but they 
 made beautiful plates ! More beautiful than your new 
 fangled plates ! " 
 
 They were now .nearing the iron pier at Coney 
 Island. 
 
 " Boys," said the old gentleman, " what are you 
 going to do to-day ? " 
 
 " I don't know that we are quijte sure," laughed 
 Allan. " We have carried our cameras down to shoot 
 at the island anything that seems interesting." 
 
 " I tell you what I wish," continued the old gentle 
 man. " I wish you would go up in the Ferris wheel 
 with me." 
 
 " Thank you," replied Allan, " we did want to go 
 up in the wheel."
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Owen and McConnell indicated their willingness. 
 
 " I've been around the world since I saw Coney 
 Island before," the old gentleman went on, " and I 
 have run down to see how much it has changed. I 
 suppose it has changed a good deal. I have too." 
 The old gentleman smoked in silence until it was time 
 for them to go ashore. 
 
 The beach was not so crowded as on a Saturday, 
 but there were animated scenes on every hand. A 
 great chorus of sounds went up from the West End 
 the shouts of hawkers and doorkeepers ; the blare of a 
 dozen merry-go-round organs ; the whir and clatter 
 of the switch-back railways ; the hum of thousands of 
 voices ; the screams of children at the water's edge, 
 mingling with the swish and roar of the surf. 
 
 " Just the same ! " said the old gentleman, smiling ; 
 " only more so ! " 
 
 The old gentleman led the way to the largest of the 
 wheels that swung its great spokes into the air. Allan 
 took a seat with the old gentleman in one car, while 
 
 "The screams of children at the water's edge."
 
 At Coney Island. 
 
 '57 
 
 "The largest of the wheels." 
 
 Owen and McConnell stepped into another, when the 
 engineer had swung it into position. 
 
 " I suppose they distribute us this way to balance 
 it," said Owen. The wheel now began to revolve 
 slowly. 
 
 " My name is Prenwood," said the old gentleman. 
 " What is yours ? " 
 
 " H artel," said Allan. He already had said that 
 the boys were from Hazenfield. 
 
 As their car swung over the top of the wheel Mr. 
 Prenwood exclaimed, " Yes, the same old place ! " and 
 was silent again for the whole circuit of the wheel. 
 
 O 
 
 Allan found it harder than he expected to accomplish
 
 158 Captain Kodak. 
 
 a sighting of his camera. There was something curi 
 ously confusing in the constantly changing situation of 
 the car. Looking for the other boys was also a diffi 
 cult matter. Sometimes they were below him, some 
 times above. McConnell was making persistent 
 efforts to bring his Wizard to bear on the beach 
 without having the rim or spokes of the wheel in 
 the way. Allan could hear him laughing, and Owen 
 urging him not to lean over so far unless he wished to 
 fall out. 
 
 " Hartel," said Mr. Prenwood, "I used to come 
 down here with my little nephew. He was too young 
 to see any of the vulgarity. He just enjoyed the life 
 and stir, the bustle of the place, just as you boys do. 
 He called these wheels they were little then the 
 big pin wheels ; and those were the ' slam-bang rail 
 roads.' It was fun to watch him ! While I was away 
 in the Mediterranean they buried him." Mr. Pren 
 wood sat very quietly for a moment. " They tell me 
 that last summer he used to say he wished Uncle 
 Amos would come home, and take him to Coney 
 Island. No one else would take him, it seems. And 
 now no one can take him. Isn't it a shame, Hartel, 
 that I couldn't have been here ? " 
 
 " How old was he ? " asked Allan, who could see 
 tears in Mr. Prenwood's eyes. 
 
 " Only six," said the old gentleman. " What a 
 little man he was ! You should have seen us wading 
 on the beach, and how he used to laugh when I rolled 
 up my trousers ! And he seemed to know just how 
 funny it was when I sat on a horse beside him in the 
 merry-go-round. But we are missing the view alto 
 gether. How gay the sun makes everything look! 
 What a good thing it is the sun never gets sad ! If
 
 At Coney Island. 159 
 
 the clouds will only let him shine, he's always as jolly 
 as ever." 
 
 The sun shone on the big, creaking wheel. Mr. 
 Prenwood waved his hand to Owen and McConnell. 
 A young girl who was sitting beside a voung man in 
 
 J 3 C? O J O 
 
 the car at the other side of the wheel seemed to think 
 the salute was intended for her, and giggled. 
 
 * o oo 
 
 ' Why not take the wheel, with the couple at the 
 other end ? " laughed Mr. Prenwood. * 
 
 Allan already was preparing to do this. The spokes 
 and cross-bars made a curious cobweb of lines in the 
 finder, a cobweb that twisted like a kaleidoscope. 
 
 When they all had stepped out of the wheel again 
 Mr. Prenwood said : " Now, boys, I'm not going to 
 bother you with my company much longer. You have 
 things that you want to do on your own account. But 
 I would like very much if you would go with me and 
 have lunch. When I was a boy I got frightfully hun 
 gry at this time of day, and I haven't altogether recov 
 ered from the habit yet." 
 
 Owen thanked Mr. Prenwood, but said they had 
 some lunch with them. 
 
 "Yes, I know," laughed Mr. Prenwood, "you have 
 some dry lunch. But that isn't enough. Oh, I know ! 
 Come along. We'll eat that and something else 
 with it ! Some oysters, for instance, or chowder, or 
 sweet corn, or watermelon. And how about butter 
 milk and pie and ice-cream ? Hey ? " 
 
 And they all laughed together as they followed Mr. 
 Prenwood up the broad walk. 
 
 " I tell you," said Mr. Prenwood, laughing again, 
 as they sat at a table in the hotel dining-room, " those 
 dry lunches are well enough to start in with. But to 
 finish up on ! Waiter ! ask these boys what they
 
 160 Captain Kodak. 
 
 wish, and boys! see that you wish everything nice 
 on the bill ! " 
 
 While they were eating their unpacked lunch and 
 many good things brought by the waiter, Mr. Pren 
 wood told them some of his adventures in the days 
 of wet-plate photography. " You boys must come 
 over and visit me sometime. I haven't told you yet 
 that I live on the other side of the river at Stony- 
 shore. I've got dogs, horses, boats, everything but 
 boys. I've half a mind to steal one of you ! " 
 
 When they were shaking hands and saying good- 
 by to Mr. Prenwood, he told them not to forget to 
 come and see him, and he saw in their faces that they 
 were very glad they had met him. 
 
 " Wasn't he nice ! " exclaimed McConnell, when 
 they had walked away. 
 
 " I think we ought to send him over some prints," 
 said Allan. 
 
 " I believe I will," said Owen, " if I get anything 
 good." 
 
 Later in the day they saw Mr. Prenwood sitting 
 on a bench, smoking, near one of the merry-go- 
 rounds. 
 
 Immediately after their luncheon the boys went 
 down on the beach and walked the whole length from 
 Brighton to the far West End. The strollers, the 
 children wading in the foam, the sleeping figures in 
 the sand ; the chair men wrangling over the price of 
 seats ; the chowder boats and ring-toss tents ; the 
 bathing-houses, and screaming bathers in the surf; 
 the groups at the photograph galleries, these and a 
 score of other sights gave the boys amusement and an 
 embarrassment of themes for their cameras. 
 
 Then they went over to the chutes and found it
 
 At Coney Island. 
 
 161 
 
 "Wading in the foam." 
 
 more exciting to try and photograph the flying boat 
 than they had found it to ride in one. Allan wished 
 to catch the boat just as it left the incline and struck 
 the water. When he had developed his plate he found 
 that the spray hid the boat. 
 
 They walked through Coney Island's Bowery, but 
 it did not please them. They liked the beach better. 
 There was much fun walking in the sand. The three 
 boys for a while played quoits with clam-shells.,. Far 
 up at the West End two young men were having a 
 wrestling match and insisted upon being photographed 
 while they were at it. 
 
 " Our style of wrestling is not set down in the 
 books," said one of the young men. But they had 
 great fun at it ; and all hands had a hundred yard 
 dash afterward. The taller wrestler came in first and 
 Allan second. 
 
 The winner afterward said to Allan, " I'd like to
 
 162 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 "A wrestling match." 
 
 have a copy of that wrestling picture, and if you'll 
 promise to send me one I'll give you this pass to 
 Buffalo Bill." 
 
 "But perhaps it won't be good I mean the 
 picture." 
 
 " Then you're so much ahead. I'll take my 
 chances." And he gave Allan his name and address. 
 
 The pass was for two. " Isn't he coming to 
 Granger Fields next week ? " asked Allan. 
 
 " Yes. If you live near there, that's the place to 
 see him. And take your camera, too. Say ; wait a 
 minute. Would you like to do the Indians ? Well, 
 you ask for Mr. Twink he'll fix it so's you can 
 photograph the Indians. Tell him I sent you. He's 
 my cousin. I know the whole crowd pretty well."
 
 At Coney Island. 
 
 163 
 
 "The groups at the photograph galleries." 
 
 " I'll do the best I can with the picture," said 
 Allan. 
 
 " And I'll take what I get and be thankful," laughed 
 the young man. 
 
 This seemed decidedly like a stroke of luck to 
 Allan, not so much for the value of the pass as for 
 the chance to get special privileges with his camera 
 with their cameras, for undoubtedly Mr. Twink would 
 look with a friendly eye on any party that might come 
 with his cousin's name. 
 
 " Time for the boat ! " cried Owen. 
 
 The day had slid away so quickly and they had 
 given so little thought to time that there was not a 
 moment to be lost if they were to catch the 4.30 boat. 
 
 The two started off for the pier on a run, until the 
 little brown woman in the Turkish bazaar looked up 
 from her beads to see whether any new and special
 
 164 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 excitement had befallen her street. A short cut across 
 the sand proved to be heavy travelling, and the boat's 
 whistle sounded warningly in their ears. All three 
 were much in need of breath when they reached the 
 pier. They caught the boat. But it was a narrow 
 escape.
 
 XII. 
 BIG WOLF AND COMPANY. 
 
 B 
 
 UFFALO BILL was to 
 
 be at Granger Fields for 
 three days. Great crowds 
 came to see the Indians, and 
 the Oriental acrobats, and the 
 soldiers of many nations, and 
 the " rough riders of the 
 world." On the third day, 
 half an hour before the time 
 for the beginning of the per 
 formance, Allan and McCon- 
 nell arrived at the gate. 
 
 Up to the last moment it 
 was expected that Owen would 
 join them. But Owen had 
 been unable to come for some reason, and the two 
 boys had walked the three miles alone. The pass 
 carried them past the ticket man and admitted them 
 to the grand stand. But before taking seats there, 
 the boys started out to find Mr. Twink. A sleek 
 little young man, with long hair and a big sombrero, 
 who looked like a candy cowboy, told them where 
 they would probably find Mr. Twink. 
 
 Mr. Twink, however, was very hard to find. Each 
 person they asked said he was in a different place. 
 
 165
 
 1 66 Captain Kodak. 
 
 When they came down by the Indian tents, they at 
 last found Mr. Twink. He was talking to an Indian, 
 an Indian decked out in gaudy red and yellow, and 
 with many feathers dangling down his back. 
 
 When they at last got his attention, Mr. Twink 
 told the boys that everything was in a hurry just then, 
 that the Indians were getting ready for the grand 
 entree ; but that if they would come around after the 
 show, he would give them a chance to photograph all 
 they wanted to. 
 
 " Hold on a minute ! " he called after them, as they 
 turned away. " We are going to strike camp this 
 afternoon. You had better come around as soon as 
 the acrobats begin. You can get back in time to see 
 the cowboy and Indian fight." 
 
 " Where shall we find you ? " asked Allan. 
 
 " Right here," said Mr. Twink. " Don't forget 
 as soon as the acrobats begin." 
 
 Allan promised to be prompt. 
 
 " But I hate to miss the acrobats," said McConnell, 
 regretfully. 
 
 " We can see acrobats any time," protested Allan, 
 "and we may never get a chance to photograph Ind 
 ians close up again." 
 
 They both photographed the grand entree from their 
 seats in the grand stand, though the figures of the sol 
 diers and cowboys and Indians and Arabs looked 
 very small at that distance, and the heads of the peo 
 ple in the spectators' seats made a rather conspicuous 
 foreground. They caught the bucking broncho while 
 two of the cowboys were trying to master him. 
 
 When the Arab acrobats came out, the boys slipped 
 out of their seats and went around to look for Mr. 
 Twink. He was where he had said he would be.
 
 Big Wolf and Company. 167 
 
 " Now, what do you want to do ? " he demanded, so 
 abruptly that Allan was a little at a loss what to say. 
 
 " We should like to photograph some of the 
 Indians," said Allan, finally. 
 
 " Well, here's Walking Dog, photograph him." 
 And Twink caught a passing Indian by the arm. 
 
 Walking Dog was very solemn in appearance, and 
 when Twink said something to him in a language the 
 boys could not understand it was the first Indian talk 
 Allan or McConnell ever had heard Walking Dog 
 looked at the boys and at their camera without a smile. 
 
 Allan was sure that Walking Dog resented the 
 proposition to be photographed, and felt sorry he had 
 mentioned it. The Indian looked so savage in his 
 paint. 
 
 " He says all right," remarked Twink. 
 
 Now, Allan was sure Walking Dog had not uttered 
 a sound, and he wondered very much what language 
 the Indian had used that Twink should feel so sure. 
 
 " How about taking him over here ? " said Twink, 
 pointing to a spot where a stretch of canvas would 
 form a background. 
 
 Walking Dog seemed to understand at once, and, 
 
 O 
 
 striding across, he stood with his back against the can 
 vas, his hands on his rifle, and in a position such as 
 soldiers take at " parade rest." 
 
 Walking Dog refused to look pleasant while Allan 
 and McConnell got their camera ready. Or perhaps 
 it was his natural look with the ugly war-paint added. 
 
 " Get it ? " asked Twink, when he heard the camera 
 click. 
 
 " Oh, wait a minute ! " cried McConnell. He had 
 forgotten the slide of his plate-holder. Allan rolled 
 his cartridge another number, and took one more to
 
 i68 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 keep McConnell company. Walking Dog remained 
 as still as a soldier's monument while this was going on r 
 
 " I wish you would 
 tell him we are much 
 obliged," said Allan 
 to Twink. 
 
 " Oh, he knows 
 that," said Twink ; 
 but he spoke to the 
 Indian as he was mov 
 ing away, and Walk 
 ing Dog shook hands 
 with both boys, stiffly 
 and silently, then 
 walked majestically 
 away. 
 
 Twink now left them 
 for a moment and 
 spoke to another Ind 
 ian, a much hand 
 somer and more gor 
 geous Indian, though 
 one not less solemn 
 than Walking Dog. 
 They came back to 
 gether. 
 
 "This is Big Wolf," 
 said Twink. " You 
 can take him, too." 
 
 "Ugh!" said Big 
 
 Wolf, and he sat down near by, looking straight be 
 fore him. 
 
 " Don't they like to do this ? " asked McConnell. 
 He couldn't get it out of his head that Big Wolf 
 
 "Walking Dog refused to look 
 pleasant."
 
 Big Wolf and Company. 169 
 
 was likely to rebel at any moment and scalp them 
 both. 
 
 " Oh, they are not so bad as they look," said Twink, 
 smiling for the first time. " They are quite sociable 
 when you come to know them." 
 
 " Is' Big Wolf a chief?" asked Allan. 
 
 " Or just just a plain Indian ? " added McConnell. 
 It seemed incredible to both boys that Big Wolf could 
 be less than a very important personage. 
 
 Twink waved his hand. " Big Wolf heap big 
 chief! " 
 
 " Ugh ! " said Big Wolf. 
 
 " See he admits it himself," said Twink. 
 
 The boys did not dare to smile. It would have 
 seemed very inappropriate with Big Wolf sitting there 
 so solemnly. 
 
 When the pictures had been taken the Indian arose 
 and left them, giving a quick nod to Allan as he went 
 by. 
 
 " Now," said Twink, " if you hurry I think I can 
 get up a group for you. Come over here." 
 
 The boys followed their guide across the field to 
 where several of the Indian tents were grouped. On 
 their way over Twink said, " There's Buffalo Bill." 
 
 Colonel Cody was seated near a screen of canvas at 
 a point where he could watch the arena through a hole 
 that had been cut for the purpose. The boys had no 
 time to look closely at the famous plainsman, for Twink 
 was hurrying them over to the tents. Twink spoke to 
 several of the Indians, and presently, before one of the 
 tents, a line of Indians was formed, a squaw and baby 
 atone end of the line. These Indians had shields and 
 other weapons, and stood bolt upright in all their gay 
 colors, and waited without sign or sound while Allan
 
 17 Captain Kodak. 
 
 and McConnell each made two shots with their 
 cameras. 
 
 * c If you come back here after the show," said Twink, 
 "you can see them striking these tents. Meanwhile, 
 make yourselves at home. Here is the famous old 
 
 "The Deadwood Stage-coach." 
 
 Deadwood Stage-coach. Would you like to ride in it 
 to-day ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " answered McConnell. 
 
 " Well, when the coach draws up at the grand stand 
 
 you boys just climb down and get in. I will speak to 
 i i tt * 
 
 them about it. 
 
 " Will anybody take us down ? " asked Allan, a 
 little uncertain about the programme.
 
 Big Wolf and Company. 173 
 
 " No. You just get down yourself. The men in 
 the coach will be watching for you." 
 
 They stood looking at the battered old stage-coach 
 after Twink had left them, and a man with a coat on 
 his arm told them that one day, in England, -when the 
 show was over there, a king and four princes had ridden 
 on it, Buffalo Bill himself driving. 
 
 This nearly took McConnell's breath away. 
 
 " Do you know where the king sat ? " asked Mc- 
 Connell. 
 
 " I dunno," said the man. " I guess up beside Buf 
 falo Bill." 
 
 " Where the princes sat ought to be good enough 
 for us," laughed Allan. " Come," he added, " let us 
 go back to the show," and they hurried around to the 
 grand stand in time to see the Mexican throwing the 
 lasso. 
 
 " I don't believe we thanked Mr. Twink," said 
 Allan. 
 
 " Won't we see him again ? " asked McConnell. 
 
 " That's so. We can see him before we leave. I 
 feel as if he had been very good to us." 
 
 " Indeed he has." 
 
 " We never could have seen so much and got those 
 
 O 
 
 Indians without him." 
 
 " Do you suppose he would care for a picture of 
 Big Wolf?" 
 
 " I don't think he would." 
 
 " We might ask him." 
 
 D 
 
 " I almost think we had better not bother him 
 again." 
 
 " Except to thank him, you mean ? " 
 
 " Except to thank him, yes." 
 
 Presently, the man with the wonderful voice, who
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 "The coach itself, drawn by four horses." 
 
 made the announcements, told how the great Dead- 
 wood stage-coach would be attacked by the Indians, 
 and how it would be rescued by a company of cow 
 boys under the leadership of Buffalo Bill. 
 
 The coach itself, drawn by four horses, now came 
 rolling around the arena. 
 
 " Are you going ? " asked McConnell, his eyes 
 twitching with excitement. 
 
 " Of course," replied Allan ; but he could not have 
 concealed his nervousness. 
 
 As the coach drew nearer the grand stand the boys 
 rose and clambered down the steps to the main en 
 trance ; and, when the coach stopped, they walked 
 falteringly forward, expecting the man at the bars to 
 ask them what they wanted anyway. 
 
 But the man at the bars, on a signal from the coach, 
 made way for them, and the old coach door opened. 
 They now saw that there were two men on the front 
 inside seat, and, with several thousand people watching 
 them, the boys climbed in and sat down on the back
 
 Big Wolf and Company. 175 
 
 seat, the door closed, and the coach started forward 
 with a jolt. 
 
 The whip cracked and soon came the louder crack 
 of a rifle, then a clatter of shots, and the two men 
 in the coach, each with a rifle, began blazing away 
 through the window at the yelling band of Indians 
 in pursuit. It was all so real, the Indians looked so 
 ferocious, the smoke and flame from the rifles was so 
 thrilling and threatening, that Allan and McConnell 
 found themselves shrinking in expectation of actual 
 bullets. 
 
 In the midst of the hubbub Allan saw through the 
 
 O 
 
 window, almost at his elbow, the now distorted face 
 of Big Wolf, screaming a most frightful note, and 
 apparently on the point at last of getting even with his 
 photographic tormentors. 
 
 Then came a new and louder clatter, with fresh yells. 
 The cowboys had come, and, after a wild fusillade, the 
 Indians fled, the smoke cleared away, and the old coach 
 lumbered back to the grand stand, with Allan and 
 McConnell staring, half-dazed, at the two men on the 
 front seat. 
 
 " How did you like it ? " asked one of the men, as 
 he swung open the door. 
 
 " It was great ! " cried Allan. 
 
 McConnell could hardly find his voice. " I guess 
 it was like being in a battle ! " he said, as he climbed 
 out. 
 
 "Just like it," laughed one of the men, " only that 
 you haven't got any lead in you ! " 
 
 " Did you see Big Wolf? " asked Allan, as they 
 walked, rather weak in the knees, back to their seats. 
 
 " Yes," answered McConnell, " and I thought I saw 
 Walking Dog, but I wasn't sure. I suppose he was
 
 I 7 6 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 there. Wasn't the noise awful! and the smoke! 
 I can see now why they can't photograph well in a bat 
 tle unless they use that new smokeless powder I was 
 reading about." 
 
 There was more of the show, but nothing seemed 
 so thrilling as that ride. In the midst of the last per 
 formance McConnell leaned forward excitedly to say, 
 " Suppose some of them forgot and put in real car 
 tridges ! " 
 
 When the Congress of Rough Riders had drawn 
 up in line and Buffalo Bill had swung his big hat in a 
 final salute, the boys once more hurried around to 
 the Indian tents, and found the Indians all very busy 
 in preparation for departure, and the wigwams gradu 
 ally disappearing. 
 
 "The wigwams gradually disappearing."
 
 Big Wolf and Company. 177 
 
 Mr. Twink was nowhere to be seen, and nobody 
 seemed to know where he was. It seemed for a time 
 as if they would have to give him up. 
 
 " Oh/there's Big Wolf! " exclaimed McConnell. " I 
 suppose he would know where he was." 
 
 " I've a mind to ask him," said Allan. In a moment 
 he did gather courage to hurry over to where Big Wolf 
 was standing, solemnly and deliberately folding a red 
 blanket. 
 
 " Do you know where Mr. Twink is ? " asked Allan, 
 in a loud voice, as people always do when they talk to 
 a foreigner or one whom they fear will not understand 
 them. 
 
 Big Wolf turned and mutely pointed toward a dis 
 tant group of men. Yes, Mr. Twink was there. 
 
 " Thank you," said Allan. Big Wolf went on fold 
 ing the blanket. 
 
 When they got over to where Mr. Twink was, Allan 
 caught his attention, and both boys stammered their 
 thanks to him. 
 
 " Oh, that's all right," said Twink. " Glad to have 
 given you a hand. Come and see us again sometime. 
 Good-by ! " 
 
 And they left him. 
 
 " It seems to me," said McConnell, as they walked 
 home in the early evening, " it seems to me that won 
 derfully interesting things happen to you when you 
 have a camera ! " 
 
 " I was just thinking the same thing myself," said 
 Allan, swinging his black box. " I don't suppose we 
 ever should have thought of going ' behind the scenes ' 
 as we did to-day if we hadn't these cameras with us." 
 
 " And we couldn't have talked to the Indians," 
 McConnell added in a tone of profound satisfaction.
 
 178 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " Well, I don't suppose we should have had any 
 excuse." 
 
 " Yes," said McConnell, " the camera is an excuse^ 
 isn't it ? "
 
 XIII. 
 
 A TOUCH-DOWN. 
 
 M 
 
 cCONNELL'S re 
 mark now began to 
 seem entirely true ; for 
 even commonplace scenes and 
 commonplace happenings be 
 came more interesting than 
 they ever before had seemed, 
 now that they were associated 
 with picture-making. 
 
 Dr. Hartel said that this 
 was because the boys began 
 to think about things in a new 
 light, of which they never be 
 fore had thought about at all. 
 " It would be much the same," 
 he said, " if you had taken up 
 botany, or mineralogy, or the 
 microscope. I remember that 
 life and history and govern 
 ments suddenly began to have 
 an entirely new interest for me 
 when I began collecting coins and postage-stamps. 
 Before that it didn't seem to make much difference 
 about the Italian States or the precise date of the 
 Restoration, or who was restored. Then at once it 
 
 179
 
 180 Captain Kodak. 
 
 began to seem of positively exciting importance. My 
 stamps and coins began telling me when and whom. 
 It is the same with your new hobby. When a man 
 climbs on a hobby, unless he rides it too hard and 
 loses his balance, he gets a wider view of something." 
 
 " So I mustn't ride too hard," said Allan. 
 
 " No, you must remember that the academy opens 
 next week." 
 
 A week after the high school opened, McConnell 
 told Allan that Mr. Thornton had remarked one 
 afternoon, " Now, McConnell, I'm afraid you are 
 thinking about your camera." 
 
 " I guess the next time I get him at one of our 
 meetings," laughed McConnell, " I'll say to him, 
 ' Now, Mr. Thornton, I'm afraid you are thinking 
 about the high school.' ' 
 
 At the Camera Club they had begun to talk about 
 an exhibition, and a committee was appointed to talk 
 the matter over. It would be a good idea, several of 
 the members thought, to have a display of the summer 
 work. Many of the members had travelled to the 
 mountains and seashore during July and August, and 
 an exhibition could be made to have great variety in 
 theme. Moreover, the club excursions had produced 
 a large batch of pictures, and the members had not 
 yet seen much of one another's work. 
 
 " We might want to do some swapping," said Owen. 
 
 " I wonder if we could get Dobbs to exhibit," said 
 Allan, amused at the thought. " I'm sure he would 
 have something different from anybody else." 
 
 " I fancy Dobbs is having a hard time," said Owen. 
 " He told me yesterday that he had taken six pictures 
 of what's his boy's name ? " 
 
 " Sporty."
 
 A Touch-down. 181 
 
 " Yes, Sporty, I hope that isn't his real name, 
 and that not one of them came out good. He seemed 
 disappointed." 
 
 Allan had a proof in his pocket of the picture he 
 had made of his sister Ellen up a tree. " The light 
 was very queer," he complained. 
 
 '"I think they were a little miffed.'" 
 
 " What do you think of these geese ? " asked Owen, 
 pulling a proof from his pocket. 
 
 " Evidently they felt offended," said Allan. "They 
 seem to be turning their backs on you." 
 
 " I think they were a little miffed," admitted Owen. 
 " Geese are mighty independent, anyway. Here's an 
 other lot I caught over by the old Dutch farmhouse, 
 that wouldn't notice me at all." 
 
 McConnell joined them with a proof of one of his 
 numerous attempts at Artie. This time Artie had his 
 crossbow.
 
 1 82 Captain Kodak. 
 
 "'Over by the old Dutch farmhouse.'" 
 
 " I like that sunlight effect," said Allan. 
 
 The three boys were just entering the club rooms 
 when Big McConnell hailed- them. "Hello, Captain 
 Kodak ! What's the conspiracy now ? " 
 
 " Have you seen the rooms ? " asked Allan. 
 
 " No, I haven't, but I want to. I think you fel 
 lows have neglected me. I want to see what is going 
 on the same as any one else." 
 
 " You're welcome," remarked Owen. 
 
 " This is the dark room," said Allan, indicating the 
 dim recesses beyond the partition. 
 
 "I see," said Big McConnell. "Then this other is 
 the light room, hey ? And, oh, yes, this is the medium 
 room over here just half and half." 
 
 " Stop your fooling, Billy," remarked Little 
 McConnell. 
 
 " And here I am dying to be photographed," com 
 plained Billy, " and nobody has taken me yet. It's a 
 shame."
 
 A Touch-down. 
 
 183 
 
 "Artie had his crossbow." 
 
 "We'll all take you," offered Allan, "and make a 
 composite." 
 
 " No, you don't," said Billy. " I want to look 
 pleasant, I don't want to look cross. You must pho 
 tograph the angel side of me. I want you to take me, 
 not to give me away," and Big McConnell roared at 
 his own joke. 
 
 " Sit there by the window," ordered Allan. 
 
 " Yes, mister," said Big McConnell, meekly. " See 
 that my hair is pretty and my tie straight." 
 
 Allan placed his camera on the table opposite, ad 
 justing a box and a book to bring the camera into posi 
 tion. " Now, look pleasant," said Little McConnell. 
 
 Billy broke into a broad grin. " Is this pleasant 
 enough ? " he asked.
 
 184 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " Too pleasant," said Allan. " Look serious, 
 
 i 
 please. 
 
 " I can't," cried Billy, " it's too funny. Take me 
 as I am, or send me home to my mother." 
 
 " Well, keep still, anyway," pleaded Allan. 
 
 " Oh, I'll keep still but can't you snap it? " 
 
 " Not in-doors," said Allan. " I must give it two 
 seconds." 
 
 " Must you ? " grinned Billy, " dear me ! Two 
 seconds ! That's like a duel, isn't it ? Don't they 
 have two seconds at a duel ? " 
 
 " Steady, now ! " demanded Allan. 
 
 " Oh, I'm a very steady young man," protested Billy. 
 
 "There you're taken ! " said Allan. 
 
 " What, already ! Why, it didn't hurt a bit. I'd 
 never know anything had happened to me ! " 
 
 " I'm going to put out a sign," Allan said ; " c Pain 
 less Photography.' ' 
 
 " Good idea," Big McConnell said. " ' Pictures 
 Taken Without Pain.' Everybody would come. 
 There would be a crush. * Line forms on this side. 
 Walk up, ladies, and gentlemen, and kids ! You'll 
 never know what hit you.' There's millions in it! " 
 
 And Big McConnell went away with a parting 
 
 warning that he wasn't one of those folks who are 
 
 ^willing to wait very long for their proofs. "And if 
 
 I don't look handsome," he said, "I'll sit again or 
 
 stand, until I'm suited." 
 
 Allan had planned several schemes for October, 
 but the first thing that happened in October was 
 entirely unexpected. Mr. Merring, one of the men 
 on the Daily Tablet, who knew Dr. Hartel and his 
 family, was writing an article on foot-ball for one of 
 the magazines he had been a great half-back himself
 
 
 Is this pleasant enough ? ' asked Billy.
 
 A Touch-down. 187 
 
 in his day ; and he asked Allan if he would run up 
 to New Haven with him on a Saturday to make 
 some shots at the Yale team in practice. 
 
 " I suppose I ought to have a camera myself," said 
 , Merring, "but I've never had the time, somehow, to 
 get at it. But you and I could work together down 
 there." 
 
 Allan agreed to go ; it was another illustration of 
 McConnell's remark about the interesting things that 
 happen to you when you have a camera. Merring 
 and Allan got to New Haven at noon, and they had 
 luncheon with two of the upper-class men, who made 
 such a fuss over Merring that Allan concluded that 
 Merring had been quite an important man in the 
 university athletics. 
 
 Allan was somewhat dismayed to hear that the team 
 would not get out to practice until nearly four o'clock. 
 
 He mentioned to Merring that the light would 
 begin to wane after three, and that with the high-press 
 ure speed necessary to catch the rapid movements, he 
 was afraid they could not expect good results. 
 
 " Maybe I can hurry them," said Merring ; but 
 Allan fancied that Merring did not regard the point 
 as very important, and that he forgot the thing alto 
 gether. At all events, it was three o'clock when they 
 started out to the field, and fully half-past three when 
 the practice teams came out. 
 
 Allan had a full roll ready, and prepared to make 
 the most of the situation. He and Merring took up 
 a position opposite the middle line, and under Mer- 
 ring's direction he took the first line-up and several 
 of the early plays; but Merring soon found this diffi 
 cult work, as perhaps he was too much interested in 
 the plays to care about the pictorial details. For
 
 1 88 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 whatever reason, he finally said to Allan, " You go 
 ahead on your own account. Perhaps you can run 
 in closer if I'm not with you." 
 
 Merring said that he had spoken to the Captain 
 and the trainer, and that Allan had the privilege of 
 the field with the camera. Allan soon found out, 
 however, that all of the players were not familiar with 
 his rights in the matter, for at an exciting moment 
 
 "'Chase that kid with the kodak! '" 
 
 just before a kick-off a big fellow in the line the big 
 gest fellow in the line, Allan thought shouted: 
 
 " Chase that kid with the kodak, or we'll kill him." 
 
 " Don't worry about me ! " shouted Allan. " I'll 
 get out of your way." 
 
 The big fellow paused a moment until the Captain 
 called, " Let him alone, Barney. He's going to im 
 mortalize you in a magazine ! " 
 
 Nevertheless, when a half-back came suddenly around
 
 A Touch-down. 189 
 
 the end with the ball a moment later, and the whole 
 crowd, as it seemed, after him, Allan found but one 
 thing to do. This was to swing promptly, and leap 
 at the top of his speed for the side line. 
 
 It was a close shave. Allan felt as if he had dodged 
 a cyclone. 
 
 Fortunately he had some knowledge of the game, 
 "and knew which way to run," as he told Merring 
 afterward. 
 
 " Oh, you are a great success ! " Merring said, with 
 a laugh. " Your dodging is the feature of the day." 
 
 " An incredibly quick scattering of the players." 
 
 However, Allan found it to be impossible, with his 
 limited experience, to get close-quarter pictures. He 
 knew it worried the players to see him too close, and 
 he felt that with the weakening light he could not use 
 the highest speed of his camera shutter. Close quar 
 ters meant a blur. Distance meant small figures. 
 Yet this was the best that could be done. 
 
 To make best use of the light, too, he shot rapidly, 
 and this had its natural results when he came to 
 develop his films. 
 
 "I wish," said Merring, toward the close of the 
 practice, " that you would catch this next play it's 
 a new trick the Captain is going to try ; I know he has
 
 190 Captain Kodak. 
 
 planned it, and if I shout ' Now ! ' you let her go as 
 quickly as you can." 
 
 The elevens lined up again, and Allan crept as close 
 as seemed safe. 
 
 "Fourteen seven twenty-one," came the voice 
 from the tangle of legs. Allan did not hear the rest, 
 for Merring was shouting : 
 
 " Now ! " 
 
 There was a frightful tangle of the elevens as Allan 
 pressed the trigger, and, while his eyes still rested on 
 the finder, there was an incredibly quick scattering of 
 players, and five of the men, with big Barney in the 
 midst of them, swung across his line of escape. 
 
 " Look out ! " roared a voice. 
 
 Allan dropped, face down, over his camera, as he 
 would have done over a ball. 
 
 He was prepared for the awful feet of Barney. A 
 sound like low thunder was in his ears, he felt rather 
 than saw a figure leap over him as he crowded close 
 over the box ; and the line had passed. 
 
 Then Merring was at his shoulder. 
 
 " Are you hurt ? " 
 
 " No. I had to drop or lose the camera." 
 
 " Good play ! " cried Merring. " It was a kind of 
 touch-down ! " 
 
 " And I got the picture, I think." 
 
 " Good again. Scott ! Savin has made a touch 
 down, too ! " 
 
 It was as Allan had expected ; his foot-ball pictures 
 were " undertimed," and most of those at close range 
 were much defaced by movement of the image. But 
 Merring was pleased, and got a number of satisfactory 
 plates out of the batch. Allan was inclined to prize these 
 highly whenever he thought of that thundering line.
 
 XIV. 
 
 THE SAILING OF THE ARABELLA. 
 
 J 
 
 FOR over a week Allan 
 was so busy over 
 school matters that 
 he had no time to do more 
 than develop his foot-ball 
 negatives ; but those gay 
 October days seemed like 
 the best of all outing days. 
 
 " I want to take that cat- 
 boat cruise just as soon as 
 I can," Allan said to Me- 
 Connell. 
 
 " Then you had better 
 begin signing your crew," 
 said McConnell. 
 
 " What berth would you like ? " Allan asked. 
 
 " Well, I don't suppose you would make me first 
 mate. I'd be satisfied with second mate. I know 
 Owen will want to be first mate." 
 
 " I wish we three could go," mused Allan. 
 
 " Would you take the Snorter or the Arabella ? " 
 
 " The Arabella, of course. She's quicker, and I 
 really think she's safer. Would your mother object 
 to your going ? " 
 
 191
 
 192 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " Not with you," promptly replied McConnell. 
 "She thinks you re pretty safe." 
 
 " Does she ? I must try to deserve that. Anyway, 
 I try not to take any risks when I'm off with a cat- 
 boat. To tell you the truth, I shan't be willing to 
 take the Arabella unless I can have a fellow as big as 
 Owen along. After all, a boat like the Arabella is 
 safer in every way than one of these little boats." 
 
 The Arabella was only twenty feet long, but she 
 was large among the little fleet in which she moored 
 at Kantry's dock. 
 
 "My idea," pursued Allan, "is to start Friday 
 afternoon and make up the river as far as we can 
 before dark, then camp inshore." 
 
 " To camp over night ? " exclaimed McConnell. 
 " That's good. I haven't camped since last summer, 
 and that didn't count. We were right near some 
 houses. Then what would you do next day ? " 
 
 " Next day I think we might boat a good deal, 
 make pictures, fish some if we wanted to, and get 
 home by dark. As the tide is setting up in the after 
 noon now, I suppose it would be best to get down 
 into our latitude by the middle of the day, so that if 
 the wind weakened we should have a better chance of 
 getting in." 
 
 " And we'll carry lots of grub," suggested McCon 
 nell. 
 
 " We shall each chip in supplies but we are ar 
 ranging the whole plan without Owen. We had 
 better wait until we see him." 
 
 Owen came down to the club that evening. "That's 
 a good plan," he said, when Allan found him and had 
 set forth his programme. " But I don't think you can 
 get the Arabella'"
 
 The Sailing of the Arabella. 195 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Because some one told me yesterday that Kantry 
 had sold her." 
 
 " Now, that's too bad ! " said Allan, despondently. 
 " It doesn't seem as if any other boat could be so 
 good as the Arabella" 
 
 " Why not take the Evangeline ? " 
 
 Allan shook his head. " There wouldn't be room 
 for us three and our cameras in that. And we never 
 could sleep in it." 
 
 " No," Owen admitted ; " we couldn't sleep in it." 
 
 " But you will go ? " asked Allan. 
 
 "Yes, count on me," said Owen. 
 
 The next morning Allan went down to Kantry's be 
 fore going over to the Academy, and that afternoon he 
 
 O O J ' 
 
 met Owen with the news 
 
 " Who do you think bought the Arabella ? " 
 
 " Couldn't guess." 
 
 " Detective Dobbs ! And I went to see him and 
 he says we're welcome." 
 
 " To take the boat for the cruise ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " That's luck." 
 
 Early on Friday morning the boys were down at 
 the river stowing provisions and cooking utensils on 
 the Arabella. Indeed, they had been down the after 
 noon before getting the craft into shape. They 
 wanted to be able to lift sail and start up the river 
 the minute they were free from school on Friday after 
 noon. 
 
 " You would think we were going away for a 
 month," laughed Owen. 
 
 " Well," said Allan, " there are a good many prepa 
 rations we have to make just because we are going
 
 196 Captain Kodak. 
 
 for such a short time. We want to enjoy every bit 
 of it when we do go." 
 
 And it certainly was with this determination that 
 the boys made sail on Friday afternoon. 
 
 " It's good we are not old salts," remarked Owen, 
 as the sail filled, and the Arabella slid into the open 
 river, " as the whole crew would mutiny over our 
 starting on Friday." 
 
 " Somebody told me," said McConnell, pulling at 
 the sheet, " that Friday is a lucky day now." 
 
 " It's the best we have, anyhow," said Allan, his 
 hand on the tiller. " I think any day is a lucky day 
 when you can get away like this with a bright sky 
 and plenty to eat on board, and plenty of ammuni 
 tion in your cameras." 
 
 " By the way," said Owen, " I must wrap up those 
 cameras ; we might forget it." 
 
 They had carried along a large waterproof blanket 
 in which to wrap the cameras, in case the Arabella 
 shipped too much spray, and (on Mr. Wincher's ad 
 vice) in which to wrap them at night, when the damp 
 ness of the river might injure the plates and the film 
 rolls. 
 
 " We shan't take any pictures until to-morrow, any 
 way," said Allan. 
 
 " And suppose it should rain ? " remarked Mc 
 Connell. 
 
 " If it rains, we'll take some rain pictures." 
 
 " You're right," said Owen. " I think everybody 
 takes too many sunshine pictures. It makes all 
 photographs look alike. The painters aren't always 
 painting sunshine." 
 
 " But I like sunshine," said McConnell, ducking 
 his head as the boom came around.
 
 The Sailing of the Arabella. 197 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," mused Allan. " I've had lots 
 of fun in the rain. The best fishing I ever had was 
 in the rain one day." 
 
 " Oh, yes fishing," McConnell admitted ; " fish 
 ing is different. The fish like it." 
 
 " And don't you remember that ball game we fin 
 ished in the rain ? Wasn't it great ? And the 
 whole of that Indian Cave trip was made in the 
 rain." 
 
 " If you like rain, you're welcome," grunted Mc 
 Connell. " Sunshine is good enough for me." 
 
 " So it is for me. I'm sort of getting a waterproof 
 on my spirits in case it does rain. Will you please 
 notice how the Arabella is scooting along just now ? 
 What are you doing, Owen ? " 
 
 " Getting out the feeding things." 
 
 " Already ? " 
 
 " Yep. Just want to be sure things are ready." 
 
 " Owen always has a hunger on," laughed Mc 
 Connell. 
 
 " You're right," confessed Owen. " Especially in a 
 boat. Anywhere else I just have a plain appetite. 
 But the minute I get into a boat, my stomach begins 
 to howl for food. Besides, it's after four o'clock and I 
 didn't eat much lunch." 
 
 " Then what do you say to a bite now ? " asked 
 Allan, " and then wait until we anchor for real supper. 
 We must make tracks as long as the sun lasts." 
 
 " I'm with you," said Owen. " Of course McCon 
 nell doesn't want anything." 
 
 " Doesn't he, though ! " chimed in McConnell. 
 " Just watch me ! " 
 
 " That's the way with these fellows that remark 
 about other fellows' appetites," said Owen, his mouth
 
 198 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 full of biscuit. " Catch ! " and Allan caught a biscuit 
 in his left hand. 
 
 The Arabella was making good time in a southwest 
 breeze, and was heading straight up the broad, majestic 
 river. The ripples whispered under the bow, there 
 was a chuckle in the rudder's wake, and from the 
 throat of the boom came a grunt of contentment. The 
 boys all shouted a greeting as they passed Mr. Good- 
 stone in his catamaran. 
 
 Allan suspected that the 
 wind would wane at sun 
 set, and in the course of 
 an hour turned the bow of 
 the Arabella to the north 
 west, to which course the 
 wind was entirely favor 
 able. Indeed, the wind 
 freshened, and shortly after 
 five o'clock they were 
 within half a mile of the 
 western shore, which now 
 was in shadow. 
 
 Allan then turned north 
 
 Mr. Goodstone in his catamaran." again while they debated 
 
 where they should anchor. 
 
 " Don't anchor yet ! " pleaded McConnell. 
 
 " If we are to make a ' farthest north ' to-night," 
 said Allan, who had read " Nansen " with enthusiasm, 
 " and do our dallying to-morrow, I think we should 
 keep going for half an hour yet." 
 
 " Suppose we try for that cove up beyond Rod- 
 longs," suggested Owen. " There is a spring there, 
 and a good place to anchor." 
 
 " I remember that," said Allan ; " the Canoe Club
 
 The Sailing of the Arabella. 199 
 
 landed there one night. But I think it will take an 
 hour yet." 
 
 Owen thought they could do it in thirty or forty 
 minutes, at the rate they were then going ; and they 
 
 "The Arabella was making good time." 
 
 would have done so had not the wind fallen slightly. 
 As it was, the Arabella reached the cove in three- 
 quarters of an hour, just as the twilight began to 
 deepen. 
 
 The boys lifted the centre-board, and pulled the 
 bow of the boat into the mouth of a little stream that 
 trickled from the near-by hill, and that was reenforced 
 by the spring, to which McConnell presently started 
 with their tin bucket. 
 
 Owen built a fire while Allan lowered and stowed the 
 sail, braced the boom, and set about preparing for 
 the night. 
 
 All three boys were prodigiously hungry, and Owen
 
 2oo Captain Kodak. 
 
 worked with great zeal over his coffee, the smell of 
 which was simply thrilling ; over the bouillon, which 
 was to be warmed ; over the unpacking of the 
 stores. 
 
 A flat stone was selected for a supper table, and in 
 the last of the twilight, and side gleams from the fire, 
 the boys attacked the spread with which Owen, as 
 sisted by the others, had decorated the paper covering 
 of the stone. 
 
 " This is entirely too nice for sailors," said Owen. 
 " We are dudes. Think of a spotless I mean a 
 spotted table-cloth like this, bouillon, cold roast 
 beef, biscuits, sweet crackers, coffee, and fresh water." 
 
 " You are spoiling us, Owen," admitted Allan. 
 " This is too good. And to think that there is lots 
 
 o 
 
 more left." 
 
 " Are you saving the pies for to-morrow ? " asked 
 McConnell. 
 
 " Sure," declared Owen. " Do you mean to say 
 you want pie after all this ? Pretty soon, McConnell, 
 you'll be asking for the hard-boiled eggs we've got for 
 breakfast." 
 
 "It seems to me I never was so hungry," said 
 McConnell. 
 
 "Wait till the morning," said Allan. "That's 
 when real hunger gets in its fine work." 
 
 "That's so, McConnell," said Owen. "In the 
 morning you could eat boiled dog." 
 
 " When are we going to get up ? " demanded Mc 
 Connell. " Can't we have a swim, then, if it isn't too 
 cold ? " 
 
 " Of course," answered Owen, " though it's not 
 quite correct. Sailors never swim." 
 
 " They don't ? " asked McConnell.
 
 The Sailing of the Arabella. 201 
 
 " It seems funny," said Allan ; " but they do say a 
 great many sailors don't even know how." 
 
 " Why not ? " persisted McConnell. 
 
 " Sharks, for one thing," said Owen. " Deep-water 
 sailors get in the habit of being afraid of sharks." 
 
 " I have been thinking," said Allan, " that we had 
 better, perhaps, draw the Arabella in a little farther, 
 and let the tide leave her there. We should be floated 
 again about five in the morning." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " exclaimed McConnell. " I was hoping 
 we could anchor." 
 
 " But if we anchored far enough out to swing with 
 the tide, we would need to show a light." 
 
 " I really don't think we should need a light," was 
 Owen's opinion. " It is rather shallow here, and we 
 shouldn't need to be more than fifty feet from the 
 shore ; though we've got our lantern, and we ought 
 to leave it, anyway, in case we get adrift. But I don't 
 see but that we shall be better off right here out of 
 sight, where we shall be handy to our outfit for break 
 fast." 
 
 " That's how it seems to me," Allan said. 
 
 McConnell was disappointed not to be able to 
 actually sleep on the river ; but he was tired, and soon 
 began to be too sleepy to worry very much about 
 where he was to sleep. The shore grew dark ; lights 
 gleamed on the other side of the river; the Albany and 
 Troy night boats, with their search-lights, had passed 
 out of sight and sound ; the dark trees swayed behind 
 them ; and the crickets and locusts had begun their 
 drowsy night chorus. 
 
 A piece of canvas, which they had brought for the 
 purpose, was stretched to form a tent, with the boom 
 for its central support. The blankets were unrolled
 
 202 Captain Kodak. 
 
 and spread ; Owen lay on one side of the centre-board, 
 Allan on the other, while McConnell completed the 
 triangle, as he curled up across the line of their 
 feet. 
 
 Before this had been accomplished the tide had left 
 the boat with her keel resting in the little channel of 
 the stream, and the Arabella stood almost upright. 
 The night noises floated down from the hillside. 
 Through the opening of the improvised tent they 
 could see the stars.
 
 XV. 
 
 A CHANGED SKY. 
 
 A 
 
 LLAN was awak 
 ened just as dawn 
 was breaking by a 
 sensation of cold, and 
 found McConnell tugging 
 at the coverings in an ef 
 fort to bury his head with 
 out uncovering his feet. 
 
 " Are you cold, Mc 
 Connell ? " Allan asked. 
 
 " About frozen," was 
 McConnell's plaintive re 
 sponse. 
 
 " Let us get up and stir around." 
 They both climbed out without disturbing Owen, 
 and soon had the breakfast fire started. 
 
 " I never knew it was so cold early in the morning," 
 said McConnell. 
 
 Just then a head appeared from under the canvas 
 shelter of the Arabella. " How about that swim, 
 McConnell?" 
 
 " No, you don't ! " retorted McConnell. "A little 
 later in the day will do for me." 
 
 Owen laughed as he emerged from the boat, which 
 now was afloat again. " I'm going to try for a fish," 
 
 203
 
 204 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Owen announced ; but the best he could accomplish 
 was a very small weakfish, which he cleaned with as 
 much satisfaction as if it had been a ten-pound bass. 
 
 Small as it was, the fish gave a delicious relish to the 
 breakfast. 
 
 " This is simply gorgeous ! " exclaimed Owen. 
 
 "Yes," said Allan, as he sipped his coffee from the 
 tin cup, " a millionnaire in his fifty-thousand-dollar 
 yacht couldn't live any sweller than this." 
 
 " Before we go," said Owen, " I want to make a 
 picture of the camp. Guess I'll do it now from 
 that point over there," and Owen extracted his cam 
 era from the waterproof blanket in the bow, told 
 Allan and McConnell to stay where they were, and 
 clambered over to the view-point he had chosen. The 
 morning was so still that at a distance of over a hundred 
 and fifty feet they could hear the click of his shutter. 
 
 Cool as the early morning had been, the day was 
 pleasantly mild when the sun shone, and the Arabella 
 sailed away with the boys in high spirits. Allan made 
 his course to the north again, with the wind west and 
 freshening. They decided upon a landing at a pic 
 turesque point three miles up the river, before turning 
 about for a leisurely journey home. 
 
 Allan and McConnell brought forth their cameras 
 and looked them over as a huntsman might his gun, 
 or a fisherman his rod. 
 
 " I want to make some shore pictures," said McCon 
 nell, "with long, quivering reflections in the water." 
 
 " And a white sail," added Allan, " somewhere 
 against the green of the shore." 
 
 " And a man in a small boat in the foreground," 
 Owen offered in supplement. 
 
 All of these elements seemed to be present at one
 
 A Changed Sky. 205 
 
 time or another. The shore was rich in interesting 
 bits. The river-sailing craft gleamed in the mellow 
 eirly sun. From private docks and invisible coves 
 small boats drifted into the open. It was a fresh, 
 buoyant morning. During the short run to the point 
 the boys had fixed upon for another landing, the 
 breeze became still more energetic, and the boys were 
 delighted with the spirited way the Arabella behaved 
 when Allan brought her up into the wind preparatory 
 to landing. 
 
 With the breeze blowing inshore, they dropped 
 anchor and landed from the stern. After all three had 
 clambered out with their cameras, Owen and Allan 
 went aboard again, lowered the sail, and drew a stern 
 line to a boulder on shore. 
 
 From the point where they had landed, the river 
 looked beautiful indeed. Ruffled by the wind, the 
 river had no placid lines of reflection save in the turns 
 of the shore, but the changing lines of the water under 
 the tumbling white clouds, the smudge of New York's 
 smoke far away to the south, the variegated river craft, 
 coal and ice barges, tow-boats, lighters, river steamers, 
 ferries ; the gulls circling from the white of the clouds 
 to the white of the steamers' wake these were sights 
 to make a boy reach for his camera now and then, until 
 it seemed that no more plates could be devoted to the 
 river. 
 
 They climbed to the brow of the bluff, a picturesque, 
 wooded place, and discussed a view-point for a picture 
 which should have a queer twist of the rocks and trees 
 for a foreground, and for the distance the blue crest of 
 
 O * 
 
 the Palisades with the blue-green river between. 
 
 " With the breeze like this," said Allan to Owen, 
 " I shouldn't want to try tripod work just here."
 
 206 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Owen had just returned from a little run overland, 
 where he found a waterfall and an abandoned bit of 
 orchard. Presently the three boys followed the line 
 of the bluff to the north, and at a distance of a quarter 
 of a mile they came upon what at first seemed like an 
 abandoned hut, but which turned out to have for an 
 inhabitant a queer old man, who sat just within the 
 open door smoking a pipe. 
 
 The old. man nodded to the boys and then stared 
 past them at the river. 
 
 " I suppose he's a hermit," whispered McConnell. 
 
 " He does look rather lonesome," said Owen. 
 
 " And savage," said Allan. 
 
 " If he didn't look so savage," McConnell sug 
 gested, " I'd like to take him sitting there at the 
 door." 
 
 Probably Owen and Allan had been thinking the 
 same thing. Yet when they stood looking out over 
 the river they heard a rustle in the tall grass and the 
 queer old man had come close behind them. 
 
 " Cameras ? " asked the old man in a strange voice. 
 
 " Yes," answered Allan. 
 
 " Take me," said the old man. " You will find 
 nothing in the river so interesting as I am," and he 
 smiled a smile so extraordinary that the boys unani 
 mously grew uneasy. 
 
 "You are polite boys," said the old man, "and you 
 do not say c who are you ? ' Nevertheless I will tell 
 you. I am Alexander Hamilton." 
 
 To this the boys said not a word. 
 
 " I can see your astonishment," said the old man. 
 " You had thought with the rest of them that I was 
 killed in the duel with Aaron Burr. Ha ! ha ! " and 
 the old man laughed as a disordered phonograph
 
 ; A picturesque, wooded place."
 
 A Changed Sky. 209 
 
 laughs. " Yes, you thought I was killed. But I am 
 not killed dangerously wounded, but not killed, 
 and I crawled away out of their sight." 
 
 Now Allan knew that the poor old fellow was 
 crazy, but this did not make him less uneasy. 
 
 " Then you must be very old," suggested Allan. 
 
 " One hundred and thirty one this year," muttered 
 the old man. 
 
 "The duel was in 1804, wasn't it? " asked Owen. 
 
 The old man nodded. "You remember it, then ?" 
 he added with increased interest. 
 
 "No," stammered Owen, "not exactly that I 
 remember reading of it." 
 
 The old man's outstretched hand pointed to the 
 south. " On Weehawken Heights. It seems like 
 yesterday. Ah ! my dear boys, Burr was no gen 
 tleman! I wish I had time to show you my last 
 letters to him, and my onion patch too. Do you like 
 onions ? " the old man suddenly asked McConnell. 
 
 " I like them pickled," said McConnell. 
 
 " Dear me ! " exclaimed the old man, " I haven't 
 one pickled. But suppose you photograph me any 
 way. I'm the oldest thing here except the hills and 
 the river." 
 
 " Perhaps you wouldn't mind standing in the door 
 way of your house," ventured Owen. 
 
 "My house ! Nonsense ! " ejaculated the old man. 
 " I am only living here temporarily. The place is 
 but forty years old. I shall soon have to have an 
 other place. I outgrow them all. No ; take me 
 here with the trees. Just wait," and the old man 
 walked away to the hut and soon returned with a 
 straw hat on his head. " I must look like a gentle 
 man," he said.
 
 2TO 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 "You don't mind us all taking you ? " asked Allan. 
 
 " No," returned the old man, " I don't mind. It 
 
 is a long time since I was photographed ; it was on 
 
 my hundredth birthday, I think, in 1857. Dear me! 
 
 how time flies when you 
 are busy with state pa 
 pers and onions and 
 things." 
 
 " Poor old man ! " 
 said Owen as they moved 
 away after thanking him. 
 " When people talk 
 queer like that," said 
 McConnell, "it gives 
 
 D 
 
 me a creepy feeling." 
 
 " I wonder how he 
 lives," queried Allan, 
 " and how long he has 
 been gone that way. I 
 wish I knew more about 
 him." 
 
 " Well, I don't," said 
 McConnell. " Crazy 
 people upset me. I'm 
 afraid of them." 
 
 " There was nothing 
 to be afraid of," Allan 
 insisted; " the old fellow 
 is evidently harmless." 
 
 "Yes, I know," McConnell said; "but these harm 
 less people ugh ! " and he shuddered. " They are 
 worst of all." 
 
 The boys were again on the edge of the bluff. Just 
 beyond the crest of the slope rose a shaft of rock, 
 
 " ' I must look like a gentleman,' he 
 said."
 
 A Changed Sky. 211 
 
 tufted on the top with grass, as you might fancy a 
 stone giant with a shaggy wig. Owen made a picture 
 from the north side, showing the shore and hills with 
 the stone sentinel standing in the foreground. 
 
 Allan decided that if he could reach the top of the 
 rock he could command the path by which they had 
 come, the old man's hut, the spur of the hills, and 
 the anchorage of the Arabella. 
 
 " I wouldn't risk it," said McConnell. " It looks 
 rather narrow." 
 
 " I can do it easily," insisted Allan, " if one of 
 you will hand up the camera afterward." 
 
 Owen took charge of the kodak while Allan, by 
 a long reach, caught a shelf of the rock, got foot 
 hold, and hauled himself safely to the top. 
 
 A beautiful scene spread out before him. Low 
 trees swayed between him and the river bank. On 
 the opposite side was the long ledge of grass and bush- 
 grown land and the sloping hills. North and south 
 were the irregular lines of the shore, lighted by 
 patches of sunlight that were moved quickly by the 
 scurrying white clouds overhead. 
 
 " I can just see the Arabella" said Allan, as Owen 
 reached far out with the camera. 
 
 To stand firmly on the head of the rock proved to 
 be no easy matter, by reason of the narrow space and 
 the energy of the breeze. The difficulties Allan over 
 came successfully as he opened his camera and set his 
 diaphragm and shutter. It was at the moment when, 
 with the bulb in his hand, he was sighting the 
 camera that a huge fragment of the weather-worn rock 
 on which he stood crumbled away, carrying with it 
 more than half of the tuft of grass on which he stood, 
 and Allan, after a quick effort to preserve his balance
 
 212 Captain Kodak. 
 
 on the narrowed support, fell with the crumbling stone 
 and disappeared from the sight of his companions. 
 
 McConnell rushed closer to the edge of the bluff 
 with a startled cry, but he could see nothing through 
 the fringe of leaves in the treetops below. Owen 
 caught McConnell and pulled him back, then him 
 self started to find a way to the river bank. Mc 
 Connell started in the opposite direction, and by 
 chance it was he who first found an opening through 
 which he could slide and tumble to the lower level 
 of the shore. 
 
 Tearing his way through the bushes in the direc 
 tion of the shaft of rock, McConnell peered about 
 him for some sign of Allan. When he did not 
 find him immediately, his terror increased. 
 
 Turning farther from the foot of the rock he found 
 the camera lying in some bushes, apparently unhurt. 
 Then, in a little open space, he found Allan, lying on 
 his back, his face white and still. 
 
 " Oh, Allan ! " was all McConnell could say, with 
 his heart beating so hard. The thought that Allan 
 might be dead, stupefied him. 
 
 At the sound of Owen making his way through the 
 bushes, McConnell sprang up and cried, " Here he is ! " 
 
 The sight of McConnell's quivering lips prepared 
 Owen for what he saw in the little opening. They 
 knelt down beside Allan, and Owen bent closely over 
 him, lifting his head on his arm. 
 
 " He is breathing ! " cried Owen. 
 
 " Is he ? " gasped McConnell ; " I didn't know." 
 
 " Yes," continued Owen, peering anxiously into 
 Allan's face ; " perhaps he is only stunned. We must 
 do something right away. If we only had some 
 water ! "
 
 He found Allan lying on his back, white and still.
 
 A Changed Sky. 215 
 
 While Owen was lifting Allan so as to place him 
 with his head resting more comfortably, McConnell 
 rushed to the river and filled his joined hands with 
 water. When he had struggled back, most of the 
 water was gone, but they sprinkled this on Allan's 
 face and bathed his forehead. 
 
 " Do you think he has broken anything? " asked 
 McConnell. 
 
 " Somehow, I don't," Owen said. " It seems as if 
 he had only knocked his head ; but I can't find a cut 
 anywhere. If we could only get him up to the queer 
 old man's hut." 
 
 " Yes," assented McConnell. " We must do it. 
 And I don't see how." 
 
 " You got down a shorter way," said Owen. " We 
 must carry him that way." 
 
 But they both stared anxiously at Allan's face. 
 Would he wake up again ? 
 
 While they were carrying him toward the opening 
 in the ridge by which McConnell had descended, 
 Allan opened his eyes. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " asked Allan. 
 
 Then they set him down, and McConnell began to 
 cry and laugh at the same time, and to dance around 
 until Owen said, " McConnell, you're as crazy as the 
 old man of the hut." 
 
 But McConnell didn't care. He hugged Allan's 
 hand without a word until Allan said, " What are you 
 fellows doing ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing ! " replied Owen. " Only trying to 
 get you back where you started from." 
 
 Allan put his hand to his head. "Yes," he said 
 slowly, " I slipped, didn't I ? " 
 
 " I should say you did."
 
 2i 6 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " And I grabbed a limb of the tree, and it broke 
 with me, and my head struck another limb, I think, that 
 swung me around. Yes, here it is feel that walnut 
 I've got here," and Owen found the spot where Allan's 
 head had suffered in the tumble. 
 
 Allan started to his feet, then sank down again. 
 
 D 
 
 " Oh, I'm not broken," he faintly assured Owen ; " but 
 things are swimming around frightfully. Will you 
 keep still, McConnell ? " 
 
 After a while Owen gave Allan a little help, and they 
 pushed and dragged him up through the opening to 
 the top, where the queer old man stood with his hands 
 in his pockets. 
 
 " This way," commanded the old man, as if he 
 knew just what had happened ; and he led the way 
 toward the hut, at the door of which he paused, made 
 Allan sit on the step, and disappeared within. 
 
 When he reappeared, the old man had a cup in his 
 hand. " Drink this," he said to Allan, extending his 
 hand. 
 
 Allan hesitated. There was a dark liquid in the 
 bottom of the cup. 
 
 " Drink it ! " repeated the old man, and Allan did 
 as he was told. 
 
 Whatever the liquid was, it made Allan feel much 
 better, so much better that he soon began to make 
 light of the accident and asked McConnell to go after 
 the camera. 
 
 " These rocks are very old," said the man of the 
 hut, " older than I am. They are getting feeble. 
 You must not trust their strength." 
 
 " It was a close call," Owen declared fervently. " I 
 expected to have to piece you together. But you were 
 only out of focus and very much fogged."
 
 A Changed Sky. 217 
 
 " Your kodak seems to be all right," said McCon- 
 nell, coming up with the camera. 
 
 Allan looked curiously at the set lever of the exposer. 
 " I must have squeezed the bulb, anyway," he laughed. 
 " The shutter went off." 
 
 " I wonder what sort of a thing you got," said 
 McConnell. 
 
 " Probably some interesting sky," was Allan's 
 opinion. 
 
 The sky ! They had not noticed that within the last 
 ten minutes the clouds to the south had grown heavier. 
 The wind was now from the southeast and decidedly 
 fresh. 
 
 Allan arose and felt quite steady again. " I'm all 
 right. Good-by Mr. Hamilton." 
 
 " Good-by," said the old man. 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you." 
 
 " You are entirely welcome, sir." 
 
 When he started to walk Allan found that he had 
 bruised his right leg ; but he sought to make light of 
 this to himself as well as to the others ; and, indeed, 
 the stiffness which came into it while he sat on the 
 step of the hut soon wore away. 
 
 The Arabella was tugging at her anchor line as if 
 impatient to be away. 
 
 Allan looked doubtfully at the river and sky. " We 
 shall have to put in again somewhere if things get any 
 fresher," he said. 
 
 " I don't think it's going to be any worse," was 
 Owen's opinion. " This is a fine breeze for a spin." 
 
 " Well, we'll try it." 
 
 After the cameras had been stowed, they debated as 
 to whether they had better eat lunch before starting, 
 and decided that in case they had to anchor later it
 
 2i 8 Captain Kodak. 
 
 would be best to spend the immediate interval in get 
 ting to a more sheltered position. " We can eat a 
 bite on the way down," said Owen. 
 
 But when they had turned the head of the Arabella 
 east to clear the point, and had made a half mile from 
 the shore on this tack, the full force of the rising 
 breeze became apparent, and the sky to the southeast 
 was by no means reassuring. Allan gave the tiller to 
 McConnell after they came about, and the two others 
 set to work to take a reef in the sail an undertaking 
 to which Allan soon found that he was not equal. A 
 peculiar weakness, the natural result of his mishap, 
 made it imperative for him to drop on his knees and 
 steady himself when the Arabella careened to star 
 board. 
 
 They realized now that they had been foolish in 
 not reefing before starting, if they had not been un 
 wise in starting at all. 
 
 " Hold her as close as you can ! " called Allan to 
 Owen, as the latter took his place in the stern after 
 abandoning the effort to reef. " We had better make 
 straight for shelter." 
 
 Presently it began to be plain that they could make 
 little choice as to an anchorage. A low growl of 
 thunder was accompanied by a spatter of rain, and in 
 an incredibly short time the rain began to fall heavily. 
 The wind whistled under the boom; whitecaps were 
 all about them. 
 
 Allan and McConnell, who had drawn in on the 
 sheet, now paid it out again, and Owen took care that 
 the sail should not fill too full as he headed straight 
 for the west shore. 
 
 With this precaution the boat made little headway, 
 the sail was drenched, and its increased weight, added
 
 A Changed Sky. 219 
 
 to the strength of the wind, kept the end of the boom 
 much of the time in the water. 
 
 Right ahead was a shallow place and ugly rocks. 
 To lift the centre-board here and attempt to come up 
 into the wind would mean being blown on the rocks 
 and the destruction of the Arabella. 
 
 " We must come up closer to the wind again ! " 
 cried Allan. " There is a cove a little farther to the 
 south." 
 
 But the savageness of the wind and the wet sail 
 made this very difficult. When they drew in the 
 sheet, the Arabella took water on the starboard side. 
 The boys were wet to the skin, and were up to their 
 ankles in water. 
 
 " Straight for the beech tree," muttered Allan, " the 
 water seems deep there. Don't swing her until the 
 last minute. I'll be ready to lower away and drop 
 anchor. McConnell, you take this other line. I'll 
 hold the sheet free with my left." 
 
 Owen found no fault with the directions. Plainly 
 it was the only thing to do. Owen did not put down 
 the tiller until they were within forty feet of the shore. 
 Then Allan let go the peak, pushed over the anchor, 
 and they all sprang at the flapping sail. 
 
 Fortunately the cove afforded shelter from the full 
 vigor of the wind, and made less difficult than might 
 have been expected the task of lowering the sail. The 
 slight shelter made it possible also to hold the lowered 
 sail in a position to cover the pit of the boat. 
 
 " All hands to the pumps ! " shouted Allan, and all 
 three (McConnell with a drinking-cup) bailed ener 
 getically until the boat had again been made habitable. 
 The rain fell heavily on the sail over their heads ; but 
 the situation had a pleasant flavor of adventure, and
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Owen distributed rations as successfully as the cramped 
 situation would permit. 
 
 " I wish we had something warm," said Owen. 
 The rain had chilled them, and their clothes had no 
 chance of drying in the present situation. 
 
 Owen finally made known his determination to get 
 ashore and reconnoitre. He took off his shoes and 
 socks, rolled up his trousers, and slid over the stern 
 with a line which he fastened to the low branch of a 
 tree that overhung the water. 
 
 When he returned, in ten minutes, it was with news 
 of an empty old house at a short distance, a house 
 with a fireplace where they could " get a chance to dry 
 up." They clambered up to the old house, entered 
 through a broken kitchen window, and soon had a 
 blaze going in the front room fireplace. McConnell 
 carried up the cooking traps. 
 
 " How are you feeling ? " asked Owen, with a sus 
 picious glance at Allan. 
 
 " Don't worry about me," Allan replied. " I only 
 want to get my feet dried and a cup of coffee," he 
 added, glancing wistfully at the kettle. 
 
 " You'll have your coffee, Captain, in three minutes. 
 Move up to the fire. McConnell, skin out and get 
 me some water." 
 
 It still was raining heavily, though the wind had 
 modified. 
 
 " If the storm keeps up," said Allan, "we shall have 
 to spend the night here, and we might as well make 
 ourselves as comfortable as possible." They carried 
 up some boxes from the cellar and McConnell found 
 an old rocker upstairs. 
 
 " The Captain, being wounded, has the rocker," de 
 clared Owen.
 
 'They clambered up to the old house."
 
 A Changed Sky. 223 
 
 " The Captain doesn't want to be babied," said 
 Allan. " The Captain will be as good as any of the 
 crew in another hour." 
 
 The prediction almost seemed to come true. Later 
 in the afternoon, Allan insisted on going down with 
 Owen and McConnell to make things more secure on 
 the Arabella^ and to carry up the cameras, further 
 supplies of food, and the three blankets. They 
 couldn't reach home before dark unless with a fair 
 wind and smooth water, and tide, wind, and water were 
 all against them now, not to speak of the rain which 
 continued until after dark. 
 
 Thus it happened that they passed the night in the 
 old house, the blankets folded up for beds. 
 
 When he awoke in the morning, Allan caught sight 
 of Owen in a far corner photographing the room and 
 the sleepers. 
 
 " Keep still ! " whispered Owen. " Let me sur 
 prise McConnell by and by, anyway." 
 
 Their breakfast exhausted the resources of the com 
 missary department. " You see," said Owen, " we 
 didn't expect to be away until to-day, did we ? " 
 
 " We'll be late for church," chuckled McConnell. 
 
 " We may be late for supper," complained Allan. 
 " Do you see the fog ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Owen ; " you could cut it with a knife. 
 We can't budge until it lifts." 
 
 "And all the grub gone," sighed McConnell. 
 
 " We haven't even a horn," said Allan. " It makes 
 yoit feel helpless. If it shouldn't clear by this after 
 noon, we should have to strike over to a West Shore 
 railroad station and get around that way. I shouldn't 
 want to worry the folks; but I haven't but half a 
 dollar with me."
 
 224 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " I haven't a cent in these clothes," said Owen, as 
 they stood looking out into the fog. 
 
 " Nor I," said McConnell. 
 
 They returned to the boat, and, to be prepared for 
 sailing the moment the fog should lift, stowed every 
 thing on board, and drew in the stern line.
 
 XVI. 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 
 
 PRESENTLY Owen 
 suggested that they 
 shift their anchorage 
 to a more advantageous 
 point ; and they had just 
 raised the anchor when 
 Owen exclaimed, " I've 
 forgotten the kettle ! " 
 
 " Let it go," said Mc- 
 Connell. It had been one 
 of his contributions to the 
 supplies. 
 
 " No," Owen insisted, 
 " I don't feel like giving 
 it up. It has been good to us and we mustn't leave 
 it behind. Back her a little with the oar, Allan, and 
 I'll skip up and get it." 
 
 With the oar Allan pushed the Arabella nearer the 
 shore and Owen sprang out, landing on a broad stone, 
 and disappeared among the bushes. 
 
 Dropping the oar on the deck, Allan sat down beside 
 McConnell. The river was very still. They could 
 see nothing but a few feet of the bank. Everywhere 
 else was the gray, silent fog a cold fog that made 
 the boys shiver. 
 
 Q 225
 
 226 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Less than a minute after he had seated himself 
 beside McConnell, Allan felt something jar the Ara 
 bella. His first thought was that the boat had drifted 
 into shallow water, and had either grounded or bumped 
 a rock. As he turned his head he caught sight, over 
 the bow, of a skiff, a low skiff without oars ; and at the 
 same moment the head of a man appeared above the 
 deck line of the Arabella. 
 
 " Keep quiet," said the man. 
 
 The voice in which the man spoke was neither loud 
 nor harsh, and was not above a whisper in volume ; 
 yet it gave Allan a feeling of horror. It was the voice 
 of one exhausted, of one desperate. 
 
 " Quiet ! " repeated the man, this time more threat 
 eningly, and his eyes fixed themselves on Allan in a 
 quivering stare. As he looked more definitely into 
 the man's face, Allan became aware that he had seen it 
 before. Changed as the face was, there could be no 
 doubt that it was that of the Ghost. And it arose 
 beside Allan as the man stood up in the skiff, and, 
 with a quick motion, stepped into the Arabella. 
 
 The boys now saw, with increased horror, that the 
 man of the ghastly white face wore the clothes of a 
 convict. 
 
 " Look here ! " said the man, in the same voice, 
 crouching beside Allan, "will you be pleasant and 
 sociable, or must I ?" and he caught Allan by the 
 neck with his thin hands, and struck the boy's head 
 against the centre-board. 
 
 Allan struggled to loosen the man's hands, and then 
 gasped, " What do you want ? " 
 
 " What do I want ? I want liberty. That's what 
 I want. I want it so bad that I have been three days 
 and three nights in this skiff, watching my chance,
 
 Looking out into the fog."
 
 An Unexpected Visitor. 229 
 
 since I got out of there," and he pointed up the river. 
 " They are watching and they will get me unless I can 
 get into New York understand me?" and the man 
 caught Allan by the shoulder, " unless I can get into 
 New York into New York with other clothes! Do 
 you understand ? with other clothes" 
 
 " I haven't any clothes for you," stammered Allan. 
 
 " You haven't, hey ? Stand up," and the man 
 enforced his order by half lifting Allan to his feet. 
 
 At this Allan saw that, although the man had a 
 large head, he was no taller than himself, and wasted 
 by imprisonment, hunger, and exposure. 
 
 " No clothes, hey ? " pursued the man, with some 
 thing that seemed almost like a smile. " No clothes ? 
 
 the very thing ! Quick now, the fog helps. Quick ! " 
 " What do you mean ? " demanded Allan, who began 
 
 to understand painfully well what the man did mean, 
 and who also had begun to cast about for some plan 
 of defence. McConnell crouched in the stern, stupe 
 fied. The Arabella had drifted, and the untethered 
 skiff with it, out of sight of the shore. They were 
 shut in by the fog. 
 
 " Quick, I tell you ! " cried the man, wrenching at 
 Allan's jacket until it had been removed. " Now the 
 sweater and the trousers. If I have to speak again, I 
 will speak with these," and the man shook his thin 
 hands in Allan's face. 
 
 It was an extraordinary sight that McConnell saw, 
 
 the boy and the man exchanging clothes there in 
 the boat ; for Allan mechanically lifted the clothes the 
 man threw from him and drew them on. On so cool 
 a morning there was no room for debate. Excited as 
 he was, Allan could not but foresee, with the boat 
 adrift, that some action would soon become necessary,
 
 230 Captain Kodak. 
 
 and the necessity for action would preclude dressing in 
 a blanket. 
 
 " Good ! " grunted the man, then he gave a start at 
 the sound of a shout. It was Owen calling through 
 the fog. " I see," he said, " one of you was ashore." 
 
 Allan nodded. He guessed by the sound of Owen's 
 voice that the tide had carried them some distance, 
 but it was impossible now to tell from which direction 
 the voice came. 
 
 " Quick ! " said the husky voice of the man, " you 
 can join the other one. I want this boat." 
 
 "How?" faltered Allan, whose horror had been 
 succeeded by a growing anger. 
 
 " The skiff," said the man. " There it is. If you 
 waste a minute I'll pitch you both overboard ! " As 
 he said this, he made a stroke with the oar and soon 
 brought the Arabella close to the skiff. Then he 
 dropped the oar, clambered to the stern, McConnell 
 making way for him, and reached for the boat with his 
 hand. " Jump in ! " he cried. 
 
 Allan had watched every movement with lips drawn, 
 his heart beating high. To give up the Arabella^ their 
 cameras, and outfit without a struggle was more than 
 he could bear. To see the man drop the oar had been 
 a great surprise. It gave him a moment of hope, and 
 when the man reached for the boat he saw his chance, 
 and springing with all his force he pushed the convict 
 over the stern into the river. 
 
 "McConnell the sail !" he yelled, and grasping 
 the oar gave a couple of quick splashes in the water 
 that put the Arabella out of the man's reach when he 
 had risen to the surface, spluttering and cursing. 
 
 McConnell had started forward to the lifts. Allan 
 followed and they gave several quick hauls together,
 
 An Unexpected Visitor. 231 
 
 enough to lift the gaff five or six feet. The sail indi- 
 
 O O 
 
 cated that there was almost no wind. 
 
 Allan sprang back to the oar and called to McConnell 
 to make the lines fast and get at the other oar. The 
 man had climbed into the skiff and Allan saw him 
 crouching in the bow paddling furiously with his hands 
 a means of propulsion which evidently he had prac 
 tised in effecting his escape. His face now wore a 
 frightful expression. 
 
 The sight of the fury in the man's eyes gave energy 
 to the paddle stroke which Allan applied to his oar. 
 They drew away three yards, four yards, five yards, 
 from the skiff. McConnell's oar now joined on the 
 port side of the Arabella ; but the man paddled with a 
 dreadful steadiness, fixing his upturned eyes upon them 
 and cursing in his husky voice. 
 
 Then McConnell's foot slipped, he stumbled in the 
 boat, and his oar went overboard. Allan made a quick 
 reach with his own oar but could not catch the drifting 
 blade, without turning the boat. In a few moments 
 the convict would have the lost oar. 
 
 Again Allan sprang to the sail. " All the way up, 
 McConnell ! " he cried, and they tugged at the lines, 
 the blood in their faces. Twice the throat of the gaff 
 hitched ; but at last the sail rose full and free, and 
 flapped in the faint wind. 
 
 " Hold her this way ! " exclaimed Allan to McCon 
 nell, and loosened the sheet. 
 
 The man had the oar. They would have known 
 this without looking, for they could hear frantic 
 splashing in the water. Allan added desperate strokes 
 of his own oar to the pull of the sail. If the wind died, 
 they were lost. The man in the skiff would have an 
 immense advantage the moment the sail ceased to
 
 2,3 2 Captain Kodak. 
 
 draw. Allan fancied that the convict was calculating on 
 this chance. 
 
 Partly because of the oar, and partly because the 
 fog left them no guide as to direction, the Arabella 
 crossed the wind and the boom swung to the other side, 
 tangling the sheet in the tiller and throwing Allan 
 across McConnell's knees. While they struggled with 
 the lines they lost much of their headway, and they 
 could hear a husky yell from the man as he gained 
 upon them. But the accident told good news. It 
 told of a puff of wind, and when the sail had filled on 
 the other side with the wind astern, the Arabella 
 very soon led very rapidly in the race. 
 
 " We are getting away ! " cried McConnell. They 
 were the first words he had said. 
 
 The skiff and the convict grew dim in the fog. 
 
 "We have beat him!" ejaculated Allan. "He's 
 welcome to the oar ; I don't want to see him caught. 
 But I didn't want him to take the Arabella and 
 everything." 
 
 " I was afraid we were goners when I lost the oar," 
 said McConnell. 
 
 They strained their eyes through the fog, but could 
 see no trace of their pursuer. Yet Allan did not feel 
 that they were safe from him unless he could keep the 
 wind astern, and thus be as sure as was possible that 
 they would not cross his track in the fog. 
 
 For fifteen minutes Allan kept the Arabella with the 
 wind, utterly uncertain of their direction. 
 
 All about them was the gray, still mist that filled 
 the boys with a strange sense of mystery. 
 
 Overhead the mist was silvery, as if the sun was 
 threatening to come through ; yet when they looked 
 on either side of the boat the veil was impenetrable.
 
 An Unexpected Visitor. 233 
 
 " Did you hear something ? " asked McConnell. 
 
 " No, what was it like ?" 
 
 " Like a boat whistle." 
 
 Allan's face changed. Yes, he could hear the sound 
 himself. It was distant, but he could discern the deep- 
 throated note of a large river steamer. 
 
 " What can we do ? " asked McConnell, with a new 
 anxiety. 
 
 " I don't see what we can do. I don't know 
 whether we are going across or down the river, and I 
 can't tell from which direction the sound is coming." 
 
 The whistle could now be heard distinctly every few 
 moments, and presently they decided that it was astern. 
 " In that case," said Allan, "we are going down the 
 river, for that must be one of the delayed night boats, 
 and it will be best for us to keep to the west. We 
 couldn't have gone far enough out to get into the track 
 of the steamers." The course of the Arabella was 
 turned slightly to starboard, and then the boys 
 were thrown into new confusion by finding that the 
 whistle was sounded on the port side. The pumble 
 of the paddle had grown very distinct. 
 
 Allan turned the Arabella farther to the starboard, 
 drawing in the sheet. 
 
 " We must make some noise - all the noise we 
 can," said Allan; "it will be better than any signal. 
 They would never see us in time." Thereupon Allan 
 took two of their pans and began clashing them to 
 gether as violently as he could. McConnell took two 
 flat pieces of wood from the bottom of the boat and 
 produced sounds like pistol shots by clapping them 
 together. But the rumble of the paddle wheels grew 
 louder, until Allan began straining his eyes for a sight 
 of the approaching danger. He had never fancied it
 
 234 Captain Kodak. 
 
 could be so difficult to tell the direction from which 
 sound came in a fog. 
 
 " They hear us ! " shouted Allan. 
 
 Several quick blasts came from the steamer whistle, 
 the paddles turned slower, and then stopped. At the 
 same moment the bow of a steamer seemed suddenly 
 to grow out of nothing within a hundred feet of them, 
 and the whistle was giving a resounding roar. 
 
 " They are passing us it's all right ! " cried Allan, 
 with an excited laugh. Indeed, the paddles had 
 started again. 
 
 " Now for the shore." 
 
 " Which shore ? " asked McConnell. 
 
 " The west shore. We couldn't risk going across 
 yet." Allan, with the hint offered by the wake of 
 the steamer, turned the Arabella so as to head south 
 west. As nearly as he could guess, this was at right 
 angles to the course he had established in getting 
 away from the convict. 
 
 It was not until he had left the two dangers behind 
 him that Allan began to think of the plight he was 
 in. Then he laughed, and McConnell joined him. 
 
 " Don't you want to sit for your picture ? " asked 
 McConnell. 
 
 " No, thank you. I don't think I want to see 
 myself in a striped suit, even for fun. I must get 
 you to hunt up some one who will send word to 
 Hazenfield, even if I can't go myself." 
 
 The wind drew a little stronger, and Allan began 
 to think that the fog was lifting. It had grown 
 sufficiently thin to justify him in running straight 
 for shore. 
 
 " Go to the bow," Allan said to McConnell, " and 
 yell when you see anything."
 
 An Unexpected Visitor. 
 
 235 
 
 They both watched eagerly for the shore, but it was 
 nearly ten minutes later that McConnell shouted, " A 
 dock ! " 
 
 They would have crashed into it in a few moments. 
 Allan swung the Arabella and ran the boat up under 
 the lee of the dock. 
 
 It was a small private dock adjoining a boat-house. 
 Making fast to one of the rings, the boys climbed out. 
 
 Allan looked down 
 at his clothes. " I 
 wonder what an-y one 
 would think of this ? " 
 
 McConnell laughed. 
 " You'll have to ex 
 plain," he said. 
 
 The boys turned up 
 the dock, and they had 
 scarcely done so when 
 a man stepped from 
 behind the boat-house 
 and caught Allan by 
 the shoulder. 
 
 " No, you don't ! " 
 said the man, " no 
 convicts here, please. 
 If this don't beat all ! 
 Mike ! " And the 
 man shouted again, un 
 til another man came 
 strolling from beyond the boat-house. At the sight of 
 Allan, Mike stopped, and his jaw dropped. " Holy 
 
 saints!" 
 
 " I don't mind yer gettin' away," said the first manj 
 " but makin' use of us is too much too much, I say." 
 
 Allan looked down at his clothes."
 
 23 6 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " I'm not a convict," said Allan, "I " 
 
 " Of course not," said Allan's custodian, " of course 
 yer innocent. You all are." 
 
 "You don't understand," said Allan; "a man es 
 caped and I " 
 
 " Yes, and you couldn't resist keeping him com 
 pany. Right you are, my boy, and I suppose I'd do 
 it myself if I was in your shoes ; but I'm not, and 
 I'm goin' to keep my conscience clear. I'll hand you 
 over and save all trouble. And yer only a kind of 
 kid, after all." 
 
 "You're making a break," spoke up McConnell; 
 " he's no convict. He had a fight with one, and he " 
 
 "Now you keep quiet, young feller," said Mike. 
 "Don't complain to us. You don't suppose we're 
 goin' to git ourselves in a scrape, do yer ? " 
 
 " What's this ? " demanded a voice. 
 
 " An escaped Sing Sing man, sir," said Mike. 
 
 " A what ? dear me ! " said the voice. 
 
 Allan and McConnell had started at the first sound 
 of the voice. When they saw its owner, their suspi 
 cions were confirmed. It was Mr. Prenwood. 
 
 " Dear me ! a convict ! " continued Mr. Prenwood. 
 " Why, it's not a man at all ; it's only a boy " 
 
 " Mr. Prenwood ! " cried Allan, " don't you know 
 us?" 
 
 " Know you ? " stammered Mr. Prenwood, step 
 ping closer. 
 
 "Don't you remember Coney Island?" inter 
 posed McConnell. 
 
 "Why upon my soul yes, you you are the 
 kodak boys ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Allan, " we were attacked by a convict, 
 and he forced me to give him my clothes, and so "
 
 No, you don't! ' said the man."
 
 An Unexpected Visitor. 239 
 
 " And so you had to take his ! Yes, yes. Blick- 
 ens," said Mr. Prenwood to the man who had first 
 encountered Allan, " you've got the shadow ; the sub 
 stance has escaped." 
 
 The man laughed. " I never knowed, sir." 
 
 " Come into the house," said Mr. Prenwood, who 
 was laughing a little to himself. " Well, well ! I 
 never expected to see you this way, Mr. Allan H artel. 
 You see, I remember your name. And I'm glad to 
 see you again. And what a monster this convict 
 must have been to treat you so ! Though I suppose 
 you got off very well. Tell me all about it. Mili- 
 cent," Mr. Prenwood now spoke to a lady who stood 
 on the porch. " Don't be frightened. This is not a 
 convict, but only a boy who was attacked by one ; 
 and these are boys I met last month at Coney Island. 
 And I know they are hungry. Won't you get us up 
 something nice ? " 
 
 Allan expostulated that he was not hungry, that he 
 only was anxious to get home as soon as possible, or 
 at least to have word sent to Hazenfield. 
 
 " Blickens," called Mr. Prenwood, "get things 
 ready on the launch. The fog is lifting, and I shall 
 want these boys and the cat-boat towed over to Hazen 
 field in half an hour. Meanwhile, Allan, I'm going 
 to get you some clothes and make you comfortable. 
 Come upstairs and let me see if I can't fit you out 
 while they are getting that bite ready for you. You 
 don't look exactly right to me. Did that brute hurt 
 
 3 
 
 you r 
 
 Allan said the man had not hurt him, but admitted 
 that he had not been feeling just right since he met 
 with the accident on the bluff the day before. 
 
 " I knew it. I knew you weren't right." Allan
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 went on with his story while Mr. Prenwood rum 
 maged in a closet and several trunks. " You see this 
 is Sunday," continued Mr. Prenwood. "You couldn't 
 go home on a Sunday without looking trim and nice. 
 There slip into these things. I guess that shirt 
 
 will fit you." 
 
 Though they were both too greatly upset to cat 
 much, the boys made an effort to do justice to Mr. 
 Prenwood's hospitality, and were delighted by his 
 
 cordial talk. 
 
 As he walked with them to the dock, Mr. Pren 
 wood said he knew Owen would get home all right, 
 somehow, and he made the boys promise to come and 
 
 see him. 
 
 Blickens sat in the launch. :c I'm sorry J. was so 
 
 rough," said Blickens. 
 
 " I didn't think you were so rough," said Allan, 
 reassuringly, as he stowed the convict's clothes in the 
 Arabella. 
 
 " A souvenir ? " laughed Mr. Prenwood. 
 
 Allan explained that he had made up his mind to 
 hand the clothes over to Detective Dobbs. :< He 
 owns the Arabella" said Allan, " and we can go right 
 to his dock." 
 
 " I understand," said Mr. Prenwood. Make the 
 best time you can, Blickens. You see you are to take 
 him to a detective after all." 
 
 Blickens looked rather uncomfortable. He did his 
 utmost to make things right with Allan. The Ara 
 bella was made fast to the launch by a long line, the 
 boys taking their seats in the launch. 
 
 Mr. Prenwood waved his hand, and shouted a 
 cheery good-by as the launch and cat-boat slid out into 
 the river.
 
 XVII. 
 
 WINTER DAYS. 
 
 M' 
 
 'R. PRENWOOD'S 
 
 launch carried Al 
 lan and McCon- 
 nell, with the Arabella 
 astern, swiftly southeast to 
 Hazenfield. 
 
 Blickens was very talka 
 tive on the journey. It 
 was evident that he wished 
 to atone for that which had 
 happened at Stonyshore ; 
 and Allan felt so little re 
 sentment for what had hap 
 pened that he earnestly 
 urged Blickens to come to 
 the Hartel house for din 
 ner. " Then," said Allan, " I can send back these 
 clothes by you." 
 
 But Blickens could not be persuaded to stay. " I'll 
 wait here for the clothes, if you want me to," said 
 Blickens at Detective Dobbs's landing; "though I 
 don't believe Mr. Prenwood expects you to bother 
 sending them back." 
 
 Since Blickens did not seem to be willing to accept the 
 invitation, Allan said that he himself would return the 
 R 241
 
 242 Captain Kodak. 
 
 clothes later, so that Blickens need not feel compelled 
 to wait. Blickens said he hoped there would be no 
 hard feelings, and shook hands good-by. 
 
 The boys were mooring the Arabella when Detective 
 Dobbs came down the path with Sporty. 
 
 " Ship ahoy ! " he called. " How many whales did 
 you catch ? " 
 
 " We caught a very unexpected fish," said Allan. 
 " There's his skin," and he tossed ashore the convict's 
 clothes. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " demanded Dobbs, picking 
 up the clothes. " This is a Sing Sing suit." 
 
 Allan hurried ashore and as quickly as he could out 
 lined to Dobbs the meeting with the Ghost and what 
 followed. 
 
 Dobbs uttered an exclamation of astonishment. " Of 
 course, you don't know in what direction he went 
 everybody has been after him for three days." 
 
 " We left him behind in the fog ; but he said he 
 wanted to get to New York." 
 
 " But he only had one oar." 
 
 " Your other oar." 
 
 " What color was your jacket and the sweater ? " 
 
 Allan described the clothes the convict had taken, 
 and Dobbs waited to hear no more. In six minutes 
 Dobbs was at the station talking to police headquar 
 ters in New York. In twenty minutes every police 
 station near the Hudson, from the Battery to Sing Sing, 
 had a description of the clothes the Ghost wore, with 
 information as to the skiff and the single oar. The 
 police everywhere already had a full description of the 
 man. 
 
 " I almost hope they don't catch him," said Allan, 
 as he and McConnell hurried inland from the river.
 
 Winter Days. 243 
 
 "I don't know what I hope," confessed McConnell. 
 <f When I think of his knocking your head against the 
 centre-board, I want to have him caught. When I 
 think of how hungry he looked, and how thin his 
 hands were, I want him to get away." 
 
 " I wonder how Owen will get home ? " Allan 
 queried. "It almost seems as if we should have tried 
 to find him ; though I'm quite sure he has walked 
 south and will get across the river somehow." 
 
 Both McConnell and Allan found an anxious wel 
 come awaiting them at home. The Doctor had assured 
 Mrs. Hartel and Edith that the boys had prudently 
 anchored when the storm came up, and that they would 
 be home as soon as the fog lifted ; yet both mother 
 and cousin had worried greatly, and even little Ellen 
 had made many inquiries as to why Allan did not come 
 home. 
 
 It may be supposed that Allan's recital found highly 
 interested listeners ; that a hundred questions were 
 asked; that some of them were answered; that Allan 
 did not eat much dinner. 
 
 Allan insisted that he only was worrying about 
 Owen. In the afternoon, at about three o'clock, Owen 
 walked in to say that he had been home for a couple 
 of hours. It appeared that after calling hopelessly 
 into the fog, and waiting in the vicinity of the anchor 
 age for half an hour, Owen made up his mind that the 
 Arabella would have no chance of making the same 
 point again while the fog lasted. He then turned back, 
 and finding his way to Alexander Hamilton made in 
 quiry of him as to the nearest way to the highroad, 
 and was about making his way inland when a freight 
 train on the West Shore road hove in sight. The train 
 halted at a near-by switch, and Owen so successfully
 
 244 Captain Kodak. 
 
 made friends with a man in the caboose that he was 
 invited to get aboard. Three miles south he slipped 
 off the train at Boughton, got a boat from a man 
 he knew at the landing, and rowed across to Hazen- 
 field. 
 
 " And so you see," said Owen, " I got out of the 
 scrape easier than you did." 
 
 Despite the Doctor's questions, Allan continued to 
 insist that he felt all right, that he would be all right 
 in a little while or the next day anyway. Yet his 
 confidence was not justified. On the following day the 
 Doctor betrayed by his looks that he did not find 
 Allan to be very well. He forbade him to do any 
 developing for a day or two longer, and kept him away 
 from the Academy. 
 
 At the end of a week Allan was down with a fever, 
 and the autumn colors, the stately river, the faces of 
 his friends, the walls of the club rooms, all faded away 
 in a troubled sleep ; and other weeks passed, and 
 there were anxious faces at his bedside, and his 
 father would sit holding his hand and looking fixedly 
 at him in the dim light of the sick chamber ; and his 
 head was very queer and heavy and hot, so that the 
 ice felt like an angel's hand. And he asked them to 
 be sure that the focus was right and that the shutter 
 had been set, ordered McConnell to pull in on the sheet, 
 and Owen to hand up the camera carefully. 
 
 " I tell you, mother," he said one day to Mrs. 
 Hartel, his eyes glistening, "I've thought over the 
 finest way to develop films ! They have never 
 thought of it ! Why, it's dead easy ! All you have 
 to do is soak the film in in there, I've I've 
 forgotten just what it was, but oh, it's very easy.' 
 I'll have great fun showing them at the club."
 
 Winter Days. 245 
 
 It was difficult to keep him from talking about 
 cameras and expeditions and new developers. 
 
 One day he said, " It's funny that Owen doesn't get 
 back. But I suppose he's living with Alexander 
 Hamilton poor old man! You had better send 
 over and get Owen. If it hadn't been for the fog 
 how foggy it is again ! " 
 
 Owen came every day to ask about his chum's con 
 dition ; and McConnell, who was pitifully upset, never 
 could understand why he was forbidden to see Allan, 
 or to help take care of him. 
 
 There were many inquirers, Major Mines, Miss 
 Manston, Mr. Thornton, Mrs. Creigh, and other mem 
 bers of the Camera Club, and Detective Dobbs often 
 called in. 
 
 It was one afternoon in late November that Allan, 
 lying very still and quiet, with his eyes fixed on the 
 wall at the foot of his bed, where there was a picture 
 of the monks of St. Bernard with their dogs, said, 
 suddenly, to his mother, 
 
 " Did they catch the Ghost ? " 
 
 At first, Mrs. Hartel thought the question was but 
 another rambling question incident to the abating 
 fever, and was about to utter one of the evasive replies 
 that are offered to fevered invalids, when something 
 in Allan's face made her understand that he was com 
 ing out of that long dream into which his mind had 
 fallen. Then she answered him quite truthfully: 
 
 " No. They have not found him, Allan." 
 
 " Good ! I believe now that I wanted him to get 
 away." 
 
 " But you must not worry about that." 
 
 " How many days' start has he had ? " 
 
 " He has had just a month."
 
 246 Captain Kodak. 
 
 "A month ? " Allan turned his eyes to his mother. 
 She did not seem to be joking. " A month ? " 
 
 His mother came over and stroked his hair. " Yes, 
 a month a long month. And my boy has had a 
 very long sleep." 
 
 " Why didn't you wake me ? " Allan asked. " I 
 see," he said, looking into his mother's tired but cheer 
 ful eyes, ." I see, I have been sick. Oh, I know it 
 now ! I can remember that the queerest things were 
 going on in my head ! One day I think it seemed to 
 be a camera, and the lens was red hot, somehow, and 
 somebody who was it? was pulling the bellows 
 out too far. Great Scott ! I thought they would 
 break it." 
 
 " But you must not talk any more, now," urged his 
 mother. 
 
 And he lay there for half an hour without speak 
 ing. 
 
 Then he asked : " Did Owen get back all right ? " 
 
 " Yes, soon after you did." 
 
 The next day he tried for a long time to remember 
 the wonderful plan he had dreamed of for developing 
 films, but he could not recall the particular formula 
 upon which the superiority of the plan rested. Per 
 haps, he thought, it would come back to him. 
 
 It was early in December that McConnell and 
 Owen were permitted to come in and see him, and 
 McConnell came in every day after that. There had 
 been an early snow, and the boys had proofs of 
 some snow scenes which proved to be immensely 
 entertaining to Allan. Owen's glimpses of winter 
 trees and snow-silvered bushes suggested many things 
 that he himself had planned to make when winter 
 came.
 
 " McConnell came in every day after that."
 
 Winter Days. 249 
 
 " I shall soon be out," he told the boys, " and then 
 I want to begin right away on some winter things." 
 McConnell came in every day after that. 
 
 Detective Dobbs on his first visit to Allan brought 
 a batch of pictures he had made of Sporty. " I don't 
 have time to develop," said Dobbs, " so I let them 
 ' do the rest ' for me now. As soon as you get well," 
 continued Dobbs, " I think the club is going to have 
 an exhibition ; they have been talking about it for 
 some time." 
 
 Allan thought this was a capital idea. A plan for a 
 frame big enough to hold some of his most successful 
 pictures gave him something pleasant to think about 
 for a whole day. 
 
 But he grew impatient to get about, and as Decem 
 ber dragged along his resentment against the long 
 convalescence grew deeper. It was not until Christ 
 mas Day that he came down to dinner. There were 
 several little surprises for him, in addition to the 
 Christmas morning surprises, that had been carried up 
 to his room. 
 
 The dinner seemed to be in his honor, for the big 
 cake had a frosted camera on the top, and " Captain 
 Kodak" in fantastic letters. In the middle of the 
 cake was a miniature imitation of a dark-room lamp 
 with a candle burning inside. 
 
 Soon after dinner Mr. Thornton and McConnell 
 came in with a large leather portfolio and a fine mag 
 nifying glass, which the members of the club had sent 
 to Allan. "We all are very glad you are getting 
 well," said Mr. Thornton. "The club will be happy 
 to greet its President again." 
 
 "Speech!" cried McConnell. 
 
 But Allan could only say, "Thank you, Mr.
 
 250 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Thornton," and sit down again quickly. His head 
 was not very strong yet, he afterward confessed. 
 
 They had a great night at the club when Allan did 
 get back, and plans for an exhibition were talked over 
 in earnest. There was so large an attendance of mem 
 bers that there was talk, too, of new club rooms, 
 though Major Mines and Mrs. Creigh said they 
 wouldn't give up the present quarters for the most 
 sumptuous club outfit that could be devised. 
 
 The club exhibition took place in January, and it 
 proved an exceedingly interesting affair. Several of the 
 members had surprises to present pictures which no 
 one had been permitted to see. Among these were 
 amusing trophies of the Central Park trip, and of the 
 first country walk of the club. There were enlarge 
 ments, beautiful bits in toned bromide paper, platinum 
 prints, one or two gems in carbon, and to show what 
 could be done with simple materials, Mr. Thornton 
 had a series of " blue prints " daintily mounted. 
 
 Allan was not exactly satisfied with the framing of 
 his prints, and wished he had had time to give more 
 attention to that. Owen and McConnell also made a 
 good impression. McConnell's " Water-melon Party " 
 contained many familiar faces. Then there was Big 
 McConnell's remarkable picture of his younger brother. 
 Detective Dobbs exhibited his first attempts at print 
 ing. Six out of the eight prints he had framed with 
 great pride in a gorgeous gold frame (picked out by 
 Mrs. Dobbs) revealed the countenance of Sporty. 
 Major Mines had some snapshots from St. Augustine 
 and elsewhere. Miss Illwin had sent in a little land 
 scape, which had no sooner been hung than it began 
 to cause her great misery. " For I can see now," she 
 said, " that I should have sent the other one."
 
 "Big McConnell's remarkable picture of his younger brother."
 
 Winter Days. 
 
 2 53 
 
 "The club exhibition took place in January." 
 
 The pictures, which filled all the available space in 
 the club rooms, were displayed for a week. And 
 almost every night during the week there was an un 
 usually large gathering at the rooms. On Saturday 
 night Major Mines hung a sheet at the head of the 
 front room, and with the aid of a small stereopticon 
 gave an exhibition of lantern slides. 
 
 Very few of the members had tried lantern slides, 
 but the Major's exhibition resulted in many resolu 
 tions to make slides from " pet " plates. Another 
 result was that a few months later the club bought a 
 stereopticon, and two nights in every month were 
 given up to the display of lantern pictures. Allan 
 found great enjoyment in his lantern-slide work. A
 
 2 54 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " McConnell's 'Water-melon Party.'" 
 
 device which he rigged up in the back room was 
 soon in general use by those members who went in 
 for slide making. 
 
 Nothing looked more beautiful on the screen than 
 the snow pictures. The silvery tracings in the trees, 
 the sunlight in footprints, the icicles in the summer 
 house, the river ice pushed into pyramids in the 
 coves, these and a score of other themes shone 
 with peculiar naturalness in the light of a lantern. 
 
 Allan did not go back to the Academy until Feb 
 ruary, and he had not been long at his school work 
 again when news came that the battle ship Maine had 
 been destroyed in the harbor of Havana.
 
 XVIII. 
 
 ECHOES OF WAR. 
 
 i 
 
 SUPPOSE, Captain," 
 said Dr. Hartel to 
 Allan, "that if we 
 have war " 
 
 " If we have war ! " cried 
 Allan ; " we must have war. 
 They have blown up one 
 of our battle ships ! " 
 
 " Well," said the Doctor, 
 quietly, "we don't know 
 that yet. And I should 
 hardly say that we must have 
 war. War is a very serious 
 business." 
 
 " I think we ought to 
 
 make it very serious for the other side," insisted Allan, 
 heatedly. 
 
 " It would be very serious for both sides," said the 
 Doctor. " I was going to say that I supposed you 
 would want to go to the front with your camera. 
 There seems to be no doubt of that." 
 
 :c I should rather go with a gun," said Allan. 
 " With your kodak on your shoulder ? " 
 " You are making fun of me, father." 
 c< I hope you don't wish me to take you seriously." 
 
 255
 
 256 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " No," interposed Edith ; " no one shall take him 
 seriously. The idea ! If he talks war like this, we'll 
 lock him up in the dark room." 
 
 " With nothing to eat but pyro and hypo," laughed 
 
 Mrs. Hartel. 
 
 " Look out ! " pursued the Doctor, with a twinkle 
 in his eye, " or the Captain may indignantly resign his 
 commission." 
 
 " Anyway," said Allan, " if I was a few years older, 
 I'd join Company K." 
 
 The fate of the Maine and the prospect of war 
 entirely changed the current of photographic enthu 
 siasm at the club. The boys, especially, turned 
 unanimously to war themes. Owen had made some 
 pictures at the Brooklyn Navy Yard when he first had 
 his camera. He had a picture of the Boston taking 
 coal, and another showing the terrible twin guns in the 
 forward turret of the New York. At the second lan 
 tern show in February, Major Mines displayed the 
 mechanism of some of the rapid-fire guns, and had a 
 capital plate showing the disappearing gun at Sandy 
 Hook. The pictures were all quite warlike .at this 
 February meeting. 
 
 At the March meetings there came pictures of the 
 forts in the harbor, camera sketches by Mr. Thornton 
 from the State Camp at Peekskill the year before, and 
 Mrs. Creigh's picture made on the deck of the 
 
 Maine. . 
 
 Then came the declaration of war, the thrill ot 
 Dewey's victory at Manila, the capture of the first 
 sea prizes, the stir and excitement of recruiting. Big 
 McConnell joined Company K. 
 
 Hazenfield broke out with all sorts of flags. Little 
 McConnell boasted that he hoisted the first flag in the
 
 Echoes of War. 
 
 257 
 
 town ; though this seemed to be a matter of debate, 
 since Allan had swung out the Hartel flag immedi 
 ately after breakfast on reading of the actual declara 
 tion of war. 
 
 ' ' The ' sky scrapers. ' ' ' 
 
 For the next six months a large proportion of 
 Allan's pictures had flags in them. Indeed, there 
 was a great deal of flag in everything for a time. 
 When Allan was in New York in July and looked up 
 at the "sky scrapers," the sky seemed full of flags.
 
 2 5 8 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 Of course the boys of the club lamented that they 
 could not be at the front. The next best thing was 
 to go to the camps ; and this they did, and found the 
 soldiers so accustomed to cameras that being photo- 
 
 A "snap" at a cruiser. 
 
 graphed seemed to cause them no uneasiness or resent- 
 
 5 f 
 
 ment whatever. 
 
 The chief trouble, Allan found, was that he had to 
 promise a good many prints to different soldiers who 
 stood for him or helped him with groups and camp 
 scenes. He had learned that promising prints is one 
 of the most entertaining features of photography, and 
 that keeping the promises is one of the most trouble-
 
 Echoes of War. 259 
 
 some. However, a soldier seemed to deserve a print 
 if he wanted it, and Allan never promised prints with 
 more of genuine willingness than during the exciting 
 weeks of the war. 
 
 It was at the Hempstead Camp that Allan, McCon- 
 nell, and Owen found Big McConnell, who had be 
 come a corporal, and who was glad to show the boys 
 around. 
 
 " I'm dead tired of this show," grumbled Big Mc 
 Connell. " I wish they'd send us somewhere. The 
 rations are spoiling my naturally sweet disposition. 
 You didn't happen to see the pie-woman, did you, as 
 you came in ? " 
 
 " No," said Allan. 
 
 " I'm looking for her about now," went on Big 
 McConnell. " I need pie, I do." 
 
 " Doesn't the cook give you pie once in a while ? " 
 
 "Pie?" shouted Big McConnell. "Well, I guess 
 
 O * O 
 
 not. I wish you could photograph the slush we had 
 for dinner. You would need an orthochromatic plate 
 and a microscopic lens." 
 
 " Did you finish the box mother sent down ? " 
 asked Little McConnell. 
 
 " Finish it ? " His brother looked down in dra 
 matic disdain. " Young fellow, I was eating the nails 
 in the cover before eleven o'clock the next day." 
 
 " I wonder what makes you so hungry ? " said Lit 
 tle McConnell. 
 
 The Corporal pointed across the field where the 
 second battalion was drilling. " That, for one thing. 
 Did you ever stop to think how heavy a musket is, 
 and how many times its weight doubles in an hour's 
 drill ? " 
 
 Across the company street Corporal Dacey was
 
 260 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 showing his cousin Cora how to hold a musket, and 
 they all laughed at Cora's brave attempt to ignore the 
 
 weight of the weapon. 
 Over by the Y. M. 
 C. A. tent Big Mc- 
 Connell found the pie- 
 woman, and they all 
 went to work on pie 
 of various denomina 
 tions. 
 
 " What kind is 
 yours?" asked Owen 
 of the Corporal. 
 
 " I don't know," 
 grunted Big McCon- 
 nell, his mouth full. 
 " All pie tastes alike 
 to me. What's the 
 Captain doing ? " 
 
 This meant Allan, 
 who had slipped off 
 with his camera. McConnell, who went to reconnoitre, 
 reported that Allan was taking a group of soldiers. 
 The Corporal looked out. " The old guard," he said. 
 " What is the ' old guard ' ? " asked Owen. 
 "They are changing the guard," replied the Cor 
 poral. "This is the guard that has just come off 
 duty. I shouldn't think there was light enough left 
 for a picture." 
 
 The day had almost gone, and in half an hour the 
 boys were on the train again on their way back to 
 New York, where the newsboys were shouting about 
 battles, and the papers had stupendous news eight 
 inches high. 
 
 ; How to hold a musket."
 
 Echoes of War. 
 
 261 
 
 " I hear," said Owen, " that our smoky powder is 
 making it awfully hard for anybody to get good bom 
 bardment pictures." 
 
 Allan thought it would be hard to report a bom 
 bardment from the ship that was doing the bombard 
 ing. " But I can't see," he said, " why they shouldn't 
 get good shots from the boats that were looking on." 
 
 " I tell you what I'd like to have had," said Mc- 
 Connell, "and that was a good chance at that Ma- 
 tanzas mule when the shell hit him ! " 
 
 " 'The old guard." 
 
 Both Allan and McConnell were greatly interested 
 in the war-ships, and read news of their doings with 
 particular attention. When the victorious ships of 
 Sampson's fleet returned northward, the club hired a 
 launch and went down the river to see and picture 
 the inspiriting naval parade. The scenes in the bay 
 and up the river to Grant's tomb furnished material 
 for one of the most beautiful lantern displays the 
 club ever held. 
 
 Allan determined to make a special trip to see and
 
 262 Captain Kodak. 
 
 to photograph the Oregon, of which he was a great 
 admirer, because " the bull-dog of the navy " seemed 
 to embody so much of what was most American in 
 the United States battle ships. When the Oregon and 
 Iowa afterward came out of dry dock, and were or 
 dered away to Manila, Allan and McConnell started 
 off early one morning for Tompkinsville, Staten Island, 
 off which town the war-ships were to anchor. 
 
 It happened, however, that the Iowa had not yet 
 come into the bay, though the Brooklyn was there, and 
 the boys recognized the graceful prow of the Gloucester, 
 the plucky little converted yacht that had figured so 
 prominently and creditably at the sinking of Cervera's 
 fleet. 
 
 It was the Oregon, however, that the boys most 
 wished to see more of, and to photograph at close 
 quarters. 
 
 The boatmen at Tompkinsville had been charging 
 high prices since the fighting ships had anchored off 
 shore, and the boys were a little discouraged in their 
 first inquiries. 
 
 In the midst of their discouragement a sailorish- 
 looking man on one of the docks asked them if they 
 wanted a cheap boat. This was precisely what the 
 boys did want, and they indicated the fact to the 
 sailorish-looking man, who thereupon lifted his finger 
 and motioned to the boys to follow him. 
 
 The boys followed their guide for some distance and 
 finally reached a low-roofed shop where a man with a 
 pipe was scraping an oar. This man had a dory, but 
 he would not rent it unless he went with it. " I'll tell 
 you what I'll do," he said, " I'll row you around all 
 the ships for a dollar." 
 
 " No," said Allan, " that's too much."
 
 Echoes of War. 265 
 
 " Too much ! " cried the man who had a dory, "why, 
 I have been getting a dollar and a half a trip. What 
 did you expect to pay ? " 
 
 " I expected to pay about fifty cents an hour," ad 
 mitted Allan. " And an hour was all we wanted." 
 
 " Well, I'll be losin' money," said the man ; " but 
 call it seventy-five cents." 
 
 The boys finally agreed to these terms and were 
 soon afloat with the dory, the man pulling at the oars 
 and asking questions about the cameras. 
 
 " Sakes alive ! " he said, " but there's been camera 
 cranks around here. It must be lots of fun, though." 
 
 There was a strong tide and the man had to bend 
 hard at the oars while Allan and McConnell adjusted 
 their cameras and peeped at the war-ships with the aid 
 of their finders. 
 
 It was rather a misty morning. There was a pecul 
 iar silvery light on the water and the ships looked 
 queerly on the shadow side next the shore. The 
 Gloucester was dainty and trim. To make the glimpse 
 of her more entertaining, a message arrived on a 
 launch, and within five minutes the anchor had been 
 lifted and she steamed away, evidently toward the 
 Brooklyn Yard. The Brooklyn, with the shot-hole in 
 her smoke-stack (carefully pointed out by the man of 
 the dory), floated quietly at her moorings. 
 
 There was bustle on the Oregon and it was wash 
 day, evidently. 
 
 " I wonder," said Allan, resentfully, " why they 
 always have their wash out when a fellow wants to 
 make pictures ? " 
 
 The man of the dory laughed. He couldn't ex 
 plain it, he said. 
 
 " How near do you want to get ? " he asked.
 
 266 Captain Kodak. 
 
 " I want a good full-length picture," said Allan. "I 
 think we are far enough away from her now if you will 
 pull south a little ways." 
 
 When they had pulled south for a short distance 
 Allan found that the three hundred feet of the Oregon 
 required a long range, and the man swung the bow 
 again to the east. 
 
 They had made several shots from their seats ; but 
 Allan now stood on the forward seat, the man slowing 
 
 J O 
 
 down again as Allan got the range. 
 
 " I'll steady you," said McConnell, bracing Allan 
 and watching the Oregon as her lines swung into favor 
 able view. 
 
 " Click ! " sounded the camera, and Allan rolled the 
 film for another shot, this time getting an almost per 
 fect profile of the ship. 
 
 " Now, McConnell, I'll steady you." 
 
 " Oh, never mind," said McConnell, confidently ; 
 " I think I could stand better alone." 
 
 " Pull up a few strokes," Allan suggested to the oars 
 man, for the tide was carrying them north. " Better 
 let me hold you, McConnell." 
 
 But McConnell, who was studying his finder, pro 
 tested that he was all right. And he did make a suc 
 cessful shot with no more assistance than Allan's one 
 hand at his back assistance which he seemed to feel 
 that he might have done without. Yet his confidence, 
 if it had not been too great when he occupied a place 
 on the seat, made him reckless in the moment of his 
 success ; for in stepping down his foot slipped, and the 
 quick turn which he made to save himself sent him 
 into the bay. 
 
 Allan sprang forward to reach McConnell, and the 
 boatman tugged at the oars in the moment of con-
 
 I'll steady you,' said McConnell."
 
 Echoes of War. 269 
 
 fusion when he did not realize on which side of the 
 stern the boy had fallen. There was a stir among the 
 jackies in the starboard bow of the Oregon. 
 
 "I'm all right! " shouted McConnell. 
 
 Allan had caught an oar from the boatman's hand 
 and now held it within McConnell's reach. 
 
 " I don't want that ! " laughed McConnell, as he 
 swam to the side of the dory. But he consented to 
 let the boatman and Allan lift him over the side. 
 
 " Pull ashore ! " said Allan to the boatman. " We 
 must get these clothes dry somehow." 
 
 " Well, we had all we wanted everyway, didn't we ? " 
 said McConnell, trying to wring some of the water out 
 of his clothes. " Wasn't it good that the camera 
 dropped into the boat ! " 
 
 Allan had scarcely noticed what became of the 
 camera. He had a feeling of being responsible in 
 some degree for McConnell's mishap, and realized 
 that the wet clothes must be removed at the earliest 
 possible moment, for it was a cool morning that threat 
 ened a chill. 
 
 As the boatman pulled under the bow of the Oregon, 
 there was a shout from some of the jackies, and Mc 
 Connell waved his hat, which the boatman had recov 
 ered with his oar. 
 
 " And so," said McConnell to his mother that 
 afternoon, " we went to the boatman's shop and he 
 rubbed me down with a dirty, rough towel, and put my 
 clothes to dry by the stove while I sat on a stool with 
 Allan's coat and an old pair of overalls on, and some 
 thing like a boat sail wrapped around me. Then 
 Allan got me a cup of tea and a sandwich from a 
 restaurant. It was great fun ; and we've got all the 
 ships ! "
 
 2jo Captain Kodak. 
 
 Allan's report was somewhat different, naturally, 
 but it was fully as enthusiastic in the matter of the 
 pictures of the famous ships. 
 
 As for McConnell, he dried off so thoroughly in 
 the boatman's shop that he suffered not a whit from 
 his ducking. 
 
 " There's no harm in a salt-water wetting," he said, 
 " and I got a good snap-shot at the warships, any 
 how."
 
 XIX. 
 
 RETURNED HEROES. 
 
 MEANWHILE the 
 war had closed and 
 the soldiers were 
 coming home coming 
 home in crowded trans 
 ports, in fever ships as well 
 as in the righting ships ; 
 coming home white and 
 
 O 
 
 weak from the blighting 
 tropical battle-fields. 
 
 An uproarious welcome 
 greeted the home-coming 
 
 o o 
 
 heroes. Allan never for 
 got the look of Broadway, crowded with cheering 
 thousands, when the returning volunteers of the 
 Seventy-first started up the great thoroughfare. 
 
 It was easier to photograph the crowds than the 
 soldiers under these circumstances, as Allan very soon 
 found. The whole line of march was so crowded that 
 Allan, who, during the early part of the day, had the 
 company of Detective Dobbs, determined to strike 
 across town and hurry up to the armory with the hope 
 of catching the scene as the regiment reached its city 
 home. 
 
 This proved more difficult than he had expected, 
 
 271
 
 272 Captain Kodak. 
 
 for the crowd was immense, the police could not con 
 trol the lines, and the constant pressure and shifting 
 of the throngs greatly diminished Allan's chances of 
 keeping near the front when the regiment should 
 arrive. A saluting gun shattered the western 
 windows of the armory and filled the street with 
 smoke. 
 
 At the critical moment when the regiment reached 
 the armory, Allan, who had counted on the chance of 
 holding his camera high enough to shoot over the 
 shoulders of men who stood in front of him, was 
 pushed violently to one side, and hemmed in by a 
 standing group of men. The crowd closed about him, 
 but he held the camera high in sheer defiance, though 
 he caught nothing better than the jumble of heads and 
 shoulders. 
 
 Allan had much better luck in the expedition he 
 organized for visiting the camp at Montauk Point, on 
 the far end of Long Island, to which the transports had 
 been carrying the weary soldiers of many regiments. 
 The Santiago men were there ; the Rough Riders 
 and thousands of their comrades. Big McConnell 
 was there, and his mother found him the day after he 
 landed. Little McConnell wanted to go at the same 
 time, and was greatly disappointed at being left 
 behind. 
 
 The next day Allan planned a trip for which he 
 recruited Owen, McConnell, Joe Bassett, Philip Man- 
 ton, Mrs. Creigh, and Mr. and Mrs. Austin. All 
 save Allan and McConnell were to return the same 
 day, and Allan's plan for staying over night was con 
 ditional on Big McConnell's valuable advice and assist 
 ance. 
 
 The day fixed for the expedition was one of those
 
 Returned Heroes. 275 
 
 that frown before they smile, and while it was frown 
 ing there were many misgivings among those who 
 assembled for the early train into New York. 
 
 " I wonder," queried McConnell, " why the weather 
 always tries to frighten photographers like this. We 
 all know it will clear up." And it did. 
 
 When they reached the end of the railway journey 
 the sun was cheering the jaded troops, whitening the 
 sand of the beach and the canvas of the tents ; glisten 
 ing on the harness of the cavalry horses, on the mus 
 kets of the guard, in the folds of the regimental flags. 
 
 The great Montauk camp opened before the visitors 
 in an imposing way ; yet it seemed less of a show at 
 the outset than the boys had expected. What it all 
 meant came to them later. The longer they stayed, 
 the wider and more populous it seemed to grow. 
 
 When they found the elder McConnell, he was on 
 guard duty, and it was two hours later before he could 
 go about with them ; but meanwhile he called Terry, 
 the big reporter, and Terry promised the boys he 
 would help them get some pictures of interest. To 
 begin with, he carried them off to the Rough Riders' 
 camp. 
 
 " But, mind you," he said, " I want some prints. 
 I can use them in a magazine article I am getting up." 
 
 The camera people were first introduced to "Teddy," 
 the eagle mascot of the Rough Riders, who sat on the 
 ridge-pole of a tent, and refused to pose when he was 
 asked. But they all trained their lenses on him, and, 
 in almost every instance, got a silhouette against the 
 bright sky. 
 
 Allan made free to tell Terry that he would like to 
 photograph Colonel Roosevelt. 
 
 " Well," said Terry, " they are bothering these men
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 to death, but I tell you what I'll do. I'll go and 
 speak to the Colonel about something I must bother 
 him about, and then you can improve your opportu 
 nity. You will have a 
 good position right 
 where you are and 
 so will I have a good 
 position. I'd like a 
 print of that, and I 
 shall certainly put it 
 in the middle of my 
 mantelpiece with the 
 inscription, * Me and 
 Roosevelt.' ' 
 
 Terry deliberately 
 carried out his plan. 
 He strolled over to the 
 Colonel's tent, met him 
 just as the leader of 
 the Rough Riders was 
 coming out, and stood 
 there for several minutes in conversation with Colonel 
 Roosevelt, while the camera delegation revelled in the 
 chances afforded by their easy range. 
 
 They afterward found a group of Rough Riders who 
 were not riding, and under Terry's direction were soon 
 becoming acquainted with the situation of the different 
 divisions of the camp. 
 
 " You are quite a company yourselves," said Terry 
 to Mr. Austin, who, with Mrs. Austin and Mrs. Creigh, 
 had rejoined the boys as they were crossing one of the 
 
 roads. 
 
 "Yes," laughed Mr. Austin, "and this is Captain 
 Kodak," he added, slapping Allan on the shoulder. 
 
 "'Teddy,' the eagle mascot."
 
 Returned Heroes. 279 
 
 " Captain Kodak," repeated Terry, who just then 
 turned to a near-by group of men. 
 
 Allan heard Terry say to one of the men in the 
 group, " General, Captain Kodak and his friends are 
 within range. I warn you to preserve a pleasant and 
 statuesque appearance." 
 
 When Allan looked toward the officer to whom 
 Terry had spoken, he at once recognized him by the 
 many pictures he had seen as General Wheeler. 
 
 " Who is Captain Kodak ? " asked General Wheeler. 
 
 " Oh, the General has been under camera fire before," 
 laughed one of the other men in the group. 
 
 Allan was obliged to come forward and be intro 
 duced, and General Wheeler shook hands with all of 
 the Hazenfield delegation, and said he should not run 
 if they insisted upon firing at him. Several pictures 
 were taken during his short conversation with 
 Mr. Austin. 
 
 When Big McConnell was at liberty, Allan had 
 made arrangements with Terry to send him prints for 
 his magazine article. Percy gazed with great pride on 
 his big brother and hovered near him with admiring 
 affection. Allan was scarcely less admiring of the 
 stalwart corporal, who took the boys in tow and 
 showed them some of the sights which they had not 
 yet seen. 
 
 The Corporal hdd considered various expedients 
 for keeping the boys at or near the camp over night. 
 Upon consultation with Terry, it appeared that 
 Terry's newspaper tent mate was to be away until the 
 next day, and it was arranged that Allan and Little 
 McConnell were to sleep in this newspaper tent with 
 Terry. Little McConnell would rather have slept 
 with his brother in the soldier quarters, but soon de-
 
 280 
 
 Captain Kodak. 
 
 cided that staying over night in camp under any cir 
 cumstances was a momentously romantic affair. 
 
 And so the evening came on, and with it all the 
 interesting incidents of life in a camp. A long line of 
 the Rough Riders, taking their horses to water, was 
 visible from their tent. They heard the sunset gun 
 and the cry of the bugles, and saw the flags come 
 down. There were many trampings of feet in distant 
 clouds of sand, faint shouts, and commands. The 
 stars came out, a cool breeze drew off the sea, and the 
 boys fell asleep. 
 
 The next day was a bustling day at the camp, an 
 exciting and memorable day, because it was the day on 
 which the President came. Allan and McConnell 
 saw Mr. McKinley several times, sometimes at close 
 quarters. The President wore a straw hat. Allan 
 thought he looked tired and worried, though he had a 
 pleasant, cheery word for all whom he met. 
 
 A group of the Rough Riders."
 
 Returned Heroes. 
 
 283 
 
 'The President wore a straw hat." 
 
 When the President went into the hospital tents, 
 Allan and McConnell for the first time began to 
 give close attention to these places, and began to 
 realize more truly than before what a tragic thing 
 war can be to those who are not hit by bullets. The 
 thin, drawn faces of the sick soldiers made the boys' 
 hearts heavy. 
 
 It was while the boys were standing in the shadow 
 of one of the supply tents that two men, carrying a 
 stretcher, halted near them, and placing the stretcher 
 in the shadow, turned into the supply tent. 
 
 There was a movement on the stretcher, a very 
 slight movement, and when the boys looked definitely 
 toward its occupant, they saw a face that made their 
 hearts leap with something like terror. At the same 
 moment the sunken eyes that stared at them seemed
 
 284 Captain Kodak. 
 
 to start with a responsive terror that made the ghastly 
 face of their owner look doubly ghastly. 
 
 The man was too far gone to make a pronounced 
 movement, but he indicated in some way that the boys 
 were to come nearer. Allan stepped close to the 
 stretcher. 
 
 " You know me ! " whispered the man. 
 
 Allan nodded. He would have known the Ghost 
 anywhere. 
 
 " It doesn't matter now," continued the man. " I'm 
 done for. But you'll keep quiet, won't you ? " 
 
 Allan nodded again. 
 
 " It wouldn't do you any good to give me away 
 now. I'm sorry I did what I did to you." 
 
 Allan tried to say that he bore him no grudge at all. 
 
 " I was desperate. You understood that ? And I 
 did get away, got away and made another start. But 
 they were after me, and I finally went where I thought 
 they might let me alone." 
 
 The man's whisper grew very difficult to hear. 
 
 " I took care of myself for a little while. Yes, I 
 was straight. And then one day, just as the war came, 
 I found that they had traced me. By good luck I got 
 a chance to enlist. That was how I dodged them 
 again." A pitiful smile came over the man's face. 
 " And now I'm going to escape them for good and 
 all. No, no ! " the man burst out as one of the men 
 who had been carrying the stretcher placed his hand 
 on Allan's shoulder. " Wait a moment ! " 
 
 "You mustn't talk," said the man, firmly. 
 
 " Another word wait ! " pleaded the sick man, 
 his face flushing for the moment. Then he whispered 
 again to Allan. " This is the last now. You can see 
 that they wouldn't allow this if there was any
 
 o 
 
 o
 
 Returned Heroes. 287 
 
 chance for me. I led a bad life, my boy. It was a 
 failure. But I tried to be a good soldier. Slip your 
 hand under here, and say, < Good-by, Hiram Bain.' " 
 
 Allan found the man's hot hand and repeated, 
 huskily, " Good-by, Hiram Bain." 
 
 The standing soldier's hand was on his shoulder 
 again, and he rose up. 
 
 The Ghost's eyes seemed to be pleading for another 
 word. Allan bent over. 
 
 ' You haven't any grudge against me ? " 
 
 " No," said Allan, " I haven't. I want you to get 
 well, and to keep on beginning over." 
 
 The man shook his head, then nodded gratefully to 
 Allan, as if the good wish was all he wanted just then. 
 
 The two men now lifted the stretcher and moved 
 away, Allan and McConnell staring after them until 
 they had disappeared into one of the hospital tents. 
 
 This was the last Allan saw of the Ghost. On the 
 following day the Ghost passed away and was buried 
 with other soldiers who had come home to die. 
 
 When Allan and McConnell were homeward bound 
 on the evening train, their heads full of the camp 
 scenes, McConnell said, " I wish we hadn't seen the 
 Ghost." 
 
 " I'm not sorry," said Allan. " I'm glad. I be 
 lieve he was not so bad as they thought he was, and 
 he did the best he could at the end. I feel better to 
 know that he can't be hunted any more." 
 
 " Well," admitted McConnell, " I'm glad of that 
 part, too."
 
 A WORD AT THE END. 
 
 IT would be interesting to tell 
 something more of Captain 
 Kodak's experiences, but the 
 back cover of a book is not to be 
 ignored, and we are very close 
 upon it. 
 
 Allan was reflected President, 
 and the Camera Club began to 
 seem indispensable to the ama 
 teur photographers of Hazen- 
 field. Many improvements were 
 made in the dark room, and new facilities for printing 
 were added to the smaller front room. Indeed, the 
 certainty that the club was outgrowing the Hartel 
 coach-house was clear to every one. 
 
 One day Mr. Prenwood came over from Stony- 
 shore. It happened that there was a meeting that 
 night, and as a result of Mr. Prenwood's chat he 
 joined the club himself. This particularly pleased 
 Allan and McConnell. 
 
 " I shall get over once a month," said Mr. Pren 
 wood, " and see if I can't learn wisdom from you 
 experts." 
 
 Yet to Prenwood, as to those he met at the club, 
 perhaps the best thing to be found there was not the 
 photographic wisdom. 
 
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