A BIG HIT.
Before the hour for going to press arrived, two more attempts were made
to prevent the Bulletin’s snapshots from reaching the public. The first
of these was an endeavor to persuade Carroll’s printers and pressmen to
go on strike. The men were approached by a local politician, who offered
them tempting cash inducements to refuse to get out the paper. But both
the composing-room and pressroom forces indignantly refused to listen to
this sinister suggestion. They all liked their young employer, and
admired him for the plucky fight he was making. There was not a man of
them whose loyalty could be shaken. So this attempt proved as futile as
had been the effort to bribe the _Bulletin’s_ photo-engraver.
The other attempt was of a more violent nature. Just as the paper was
going to press, a gang of hoodlums endeavored to force their way into
the Bulletin Building, with the obvious intention of invading the
pressroom, and smashing the forms. But Carroll barred the doors, and
from a window of the editorial rooms addressed the band of toughs,
displaying a revolver, and threatening to shoot the first man who dared
to set foot within the premises. There was a note in his voice which
caused them to believe that he meant business, and kept them back.
This last effort of the enemy having failed, like the others, nothing
else occurred to interfere with the getting out the _Bulletin_, and a
few hours later, the citizens of Oldham were chuckling over Hawley’s
snapshots, and warmly praising Carroll’s newspaper for its enterprise
and fearlessness.
The success of the _Bulletin’s_ exposé was even greater than the Camera
Chap had predicted. Not only was the entire issue sold out, but the name
of Carroll’s newspaper was on every tongue, which, of course, was a fine
thing from the standpoint of future circulation; for the more a
newspaper is talked about, the more it is read. In fact, many persons
who found it impossible to obtain copies of the paper, on account of the
unprecedented demand, called at the _Bulletin_ office that day, and paid
for a year’s subscription, so as to guard against the possibility of
such a thing happening again.
Letters of congratulation came pouring in by every mail. “Constant
Reader,” “Pro Bono Publico,” “Vox Populi,” and a host of others eagerly
wrote to thank the editor of the _Bulletin_ for the public service which
he had rendered.
For while, as has been said above, Hawley’s snapshots appealed to the
sense of humor of many, and were provocative of chuckles, there were as
many more who saw the serious side of the situation, and were stirred to
righteous wrath by the shameful conditions which the _Bulletin_ had
revealed to them.
These good people were in the habit of going to bed early, and therefore
never would have discovered that the city was not being properly and
faithfully policed at night if Carroll’s newspaper had not opened their
eyes.
A delegation of taxpayers, thirty strong, called at the city hall that
morning, and demanded an audience with the mayor.
Each of them had a copy of the current issue of the _Bulletin_ in his
hand, and each of them had fire in his eye. When they were ushered into
the mayor’s private office they proceeded to deliver themselves of
utterances so forceful and to the point that his honor squirmed in his
chair as he listened.
As soon as they had gone, Mayor Henkel reached for the telephone on his
desk, and called up police headquarters.
“Is that you, Hodgins?” he growled into the transmitter.
“Yes, Mr. Mayor.” Chief Hodgins’ voice was very meek, and a trifle
unsteady. He, too, had seen the _Bulletin_ that morning.
“Come on over here at once!” snarled his honor. “I want to see you.”
The chief lost no time in getting over to the city hall. Not that he was
intensely eager for this interview, but he gathered the impression from
the tone of the mayor’s voice over the wire that its owner was more than
a trifle peevish, and he knew better than to keep him waiting when he
was in such a mood.
“I suppose you’ve seen the _Bulletin_?” snapped the mayor, as Hodgins
stepped into the room.
“Yes, Mr. Mayor. Of course, I don’t make a practice of readin’ that
disreputable sheet, but somebody happened to hand me a copy this
mornin’, and called my attention to the--ahem--dastardly outrage on the
front page. Ain’t it fierce, Mr. Mayor?”
His honor glared at him. “Yes, it’s fierce, all right!” he growled. “But
it’s only what we’ve got to expect when we’ve got a bonehead like you at
the head of the department.”
The chief’s round face turned purple. “Now, see here, Mr. Mayor,” he
said plaintively, “is it fair to blame me when you----”
“Never mind that now,” his honor interrupted curtly. “I’ll attend to
your case later on--and to all those others who have gone and got my
administration in bad by getting their pictures in that confounded
newspaper. I’m going to teach you all a lesson you won’t forget in a
hurry, I promise you. But that’ll keep for a little while. There’s
something else that I want to attend to first. Do you know who took
those snapshots for the _Bulletin_?”
“I am told that it was that young loafer from New York named Hawley,
who----” began the chief.
“So it was he, was it? I suspected as much,” Mayor Henkle muttered. “Do
you know where he is at this moment, Hodgins?”
“No, I don’t,” replied the chief of police, with a scowl. “But I guess I
can find him, all right. I am going to court as soon as I leave here, to
swear out a warrant for his arrest; and then I----”
“You’re going to do nothing of the kind,” his honor broke in, with much
vehemence. “You big, blundering boob, haven’t you got enough sense to
realize that we can’t arrest him?”
“Why not?” demanded Hodgins in great astonishment. “He took those
snapshots without a license, didn’t he? That’s a clear violation of the
law. It seems to me that here’s a fine opportunity to put the scamp
behind bars for six months. He can’t beat the case this time.”
“Oh, it seems that way to you, does it?” sneered his honor. “Well, maybe
if you stop to think for a minute, you’ll realize what effect it would
have upon the people of this town if we were to send that chap to jail
for taking those pictures. It would be regarded as a piece of spite
work, and public sentiment would be dead against us. I don’t want that.”
“What do you propose to do, then?” inquired Hodgins, making no effort to
conceal his disappointment.
“Go and find that camera man, and bring him to me,” the mayor commanded.
“Don’t arrest him. Persuade him to come here under a flag of truce. I
want to talk with him.”