A CHAT WITH THE MAYOR.
So friendly was the mayor’s greeting that the Camera Chap thought, at
first, that his honor could not be aware of the identity of his visitor.
Surely the head of Oldham’s government could have no reason for feeling
kindly disposed toward the chap who had given that government such a
severe jolt.
Great, then, was Hawley’s amazement when Mayor Henkle, after beaming
beatifically upon him, turned to Chief Hodgins and said pleasantly:
“So this is the young man whose snapshots in this morning’s _Bulletin_
have created such a stir in town?”
The chief of police scowled. “Yes, this is the--er--this is the young
man.” He had intended to end the sentence differently, but a warning
glance from his honor caused him to modify his words.
Mayor Henkle leaned forward in his chair, and extended a huge hand, the
back of which was as hairy as a gorilla’s paw, toward the Camera Chap.
“Mr. Hawley, let me congratulate you upon that achievement,” he said.
“Those pictures are great--simply immense.”
“Glad you liked them, Mr. Mayor,” said Hawley, as he grasped the
outstretched hand. To himself he said: “Now, I wonder what the deuce can
be the meaning of this taffy?”
The Camera Chap was not the only person whose curiosity was aroused by
the Honorable Martin Henkle’s demeanor. Chief Hodgins’ eyes opened wide
with wonder as he heard his boss congratulating the author of those
snapshots. Hodgins knew that the mayor, though a gruff, bullying type of
man, could be as smooth and urbane as a courtier when it suited his
purpose to be so; but the chief was at a loss to imagine what the
mayor’s purpose could be in the present instance.
It looked as if his curiosity would have to go unsatisfied, however, for
he was not permitted to hear the rest of the conversation.
“I guess we won’t detain you any longer, chief,” said the mayor, waving
his hand toward the door. “I realize that your time is valuable;
besides, Mr. Hawley and I wish to have a little confidential chat
together.”
Hodgins saluted stiffly, and started to withdraw, but as he neared the
doorway he thought of something which caused him to hesitate.
“Aren’t you going--don’t you wish me to take charge of this--er--young
man when you get through with him?” he inquired anxiously.
“Certainly not,” replied his honor indignantly. “Mr. Hawley is not a
prisoner. He is here as my guest. When this interview is over, he will
be free to depart, and I’ll make it hot for anybody that interferes with
him. I thought that I had thoroughly impressed that fact upon your mind,
chief.”
“Now, I wonder what the deuce can be the meaning of this?” said the
Camera Chap to himself once more. “It certainly sounds too good to be
true.”
“Yes, Mr. Hawley, those pictures in this morning’s _Bulletin_ were a
remarkably clever piece of work,” Mayor Henkle declared, as the door
closed behind the chief of police. “As soon as I saw them I made up my
mind that I was going to send for the man who took them, and tell him
what I thought of them. I can appreciate pluck and skill, Mr. Hawley,
even when they are directed against myself. The fact that those
snapshots of yours are somewhat of a black eye to my administration,
doesn’t prevent me from being glad to shake hands with you.”
“You are certainly broad-minded, Mr. Mayor,” the Camera Chap said
politely.
“Well, yes; I guess I am,” the Honorable Martin Henkle admitted. “A man
has got to be broad-minded, I guess, in order to get along in public
life. By the way, Mr. Hawley, how long do you intend to honor us with
your presence in Oldham?”
“I can’t say exactly,” the Camera Chap answered, somewhat astonished at
the abruptness of the question. “It all depends.”
“Depends upon what?” the mayor inquired eagerly.
“Upon how long a leave of absence I can get from my managing editor. I
am on the staff of the New York _Sentinel_, you know. I am here merely
on a vacation. I came here originally with the intention of staying only
a few days, but I am thinking of writing to Mr. Paxton--he’s the
managing editor of the _Sentinel_--to ask if he won’t let me remain for
several weeks longer.”
“Humph! And what is your reason for wanting to remain?”
“Oh, there are several reasons, Mr. Mayor. For one thing, I like the
climate. I took this vacation on account of my health, you know, and
this bracing air does me a world of good.”
The mayor frowned. “Give me another reason.”
“Well, to be quite candid with you, I want to stay and help my friend
Fred Carroll get out the _Bulletin_,” the Camera Chap replied.
The frown upon the mayor’s face deepened. “You haven’t written that
letter to your managing editor yet, have you, Mr. Hawley?” he inquired.
“Not yet. I intend to write it this evening.”
“I wouldn’t, if I were you.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Mayor Henkle replied slowly, “even if your editor is willing
to extend your leave of absence, you’re not going to stay here. You’re
going back to New York immediately, Mr. Hawley.”
The Camera Chap grinned. “You mean you’re going to banish me from
Oldham, Mr. Mayor?”
“That’s an ugly way of putting it,” protested his honor, with a
deprecating smile. “We won’t call it being banished. I am going to ask
you, as a favor to me, to cut your vacation short, and return to New
York.”
“And suppose I refuse to go?”
“You won’t refuse,” was the grim reply. “You impress me as being a
sensible young man. I suppose you realize, Mr. Hawley, that we can send
you to jail, right now, for taking those snapshots without a license. We
have a clear case against you.”
The Camera Chap nodded. “Yes, I suppose you have.”
“But I don’t want to send you to jail,” the mayor continued. “I like
you, and, as I said before, I admire the pluck and cleverness you
displayed in getting those pictures. I think it would be a great pity to
put such a talented man behind bars. So I am giving you this chance.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall. “It is just four p. m. There is a
train for New York at seven. I guess you ought to be able to get ready
in three hours. Will you promise me to leave on that train, Mr. Hawley?”
The Camera Chap smiled ruefully.
“I suppose I have no choice in the matter. I hate to leave Oldham, but,
of course, I’d rather do that than go to jail.”
There was a long pause. The mayor seemed to be turning something over in
his mind. His keen gaze was fixed searchingly upon the Camera Chap’s
face, and twice his lips moved, as though he were about to speak, but
each time the words remained unspoken.
Then, with sudden decision, he leaned forward in his chair, and said
quietly:
“There is one other alternative, Mr. Hawley. An idea has just presented
itself to me which seems to me a vast improvement on my original plan of
forcing you to leave town. If you wish, you can remain in
Oldham--without going to jail--and earn fifty dollars besides.”
“That sounds much more agreeable,” declared the Camera Chap laughingly.
“What have I got to do to earn that alluring sum?”
“Something very easy. You will merely have to make a short affidavit.”
“To what effect?”
“That those snapshots which the _Bulletin_ published this morning were
fakes.”
Hawley arched his eyebrows. “Fakes? I don’t quite get you, Mr. Mayor.
How could those pictures be fakes?”
“I don’t know how they could be,” was the mayor’s reply. “I don’t
understand much about photography. But I feel confident that an expert
like yourself will be able to dope out an explanation which will sound
convincing. I shall leave the details of the affidavit entirely to you.”
Hawley grinned. “I guess I get you now, Mr. Mayor. May I inquire what
you intend to do with this affidavit, provided you get it?”
“I intend to publish it on the front page of to-morrow’s _Bulletin_.”
The start of surprise which the Camera Chap gave at this answer was
genuine.
“The _Bulletin_? You mean the _Chronicle_, don’t you, Mr. Mayor?” he
inquired.
“I mean the _Bulletin_. It will be published in the _Chronicle_, also--I
want it to have as much publicity as possible--but to get it on the
front page of the _Bulletin_ is the main thing. I want everybody who saw
those pictures to-day to learn that they are fakes when they see the
paper to-morrow.”
Hawley was so amused by this amazing proposal that he forgot to be
indignant. “And may I ask how you propose to get it into the _Bulletin_,
Mr. Mayor?” he inquired, with an ironical smile. “Are you going to
request my friend Carroll to print it as a personal favor to you?”
“Yes, I am,” was the astonishing reply. “And I guess your friend Carroll
will be ready enough to do me the favor when he hears my proposition.
I’m going to offer to bury the hatchet. He’s gone pretty far with that
confounded sheet of his. There are some things he’s done that lots of
men in public life would never forgive or forget. But, as you have
remarked, Mr. Hawley, I’m broad-minded. I’m willing to let bygones be
bygones. You can go and tell Carroll that if he wants to come over to
the city hall and shake hands with me, he’ll find me ready.”
“I’ll tell him,” said the Camera Chap dryly, “but I doubt very much if
he’ll come, Mr. Mayor. My friend Carroll is a peculiar fellow.”
“Oh, he’ll come, all right!” the Honorable Martin Henkle declared
confidently. “You just whisper in his ear that as soon as the _Bulletin_
makes itself right with the administration, that bunch of advertising
goes back into its columns, and I’ll bet my bank roll he’ll hurry over.
You can tell him, too, that as soon as we’re friends, the _Bulletin_
will get all the news at police headquarters and the other public
departments, same as it used to before the scrap.”
“All right; I’ll tell him,” said the Camera Chap, taking a step toward
the door. “But I still doubt very much if he’ll come, Mr. Mayor. The
_Bulletin_ is going to have so very much big advertising that he
probably wouldn’t be able to find room for that piker bunch of ads you
caused to be taken out, and which you are now offering to put back
again.
“And as for the news at police headquarters, and the other public
departments,” Hawley went on, taking another step toward the door, “why,
I’m afraid he won’t have much room for that, either. You see, Mr. Mayor,
the _Bulletin’s_ columns are going to be so taken up the next few
months booming the People’s Party candidate for mayor, that there won’t
be space for much else.”
Mayor Henkle frowned. “The People’s Party candidate for mayor, eh? Who
is he?”
“Fred Carroll,” Hawley answered solemnly. “After much persuasion, my
friend Carroll has consented to run at the coming election. He is going
to announce it in to-morrow’s _Bulletin_.”
The mayor’s frown changed into a derisive sneer. “The People’s Party!”
he sneered. “Who are they? I never heard of ’em before.”
“To be quite frank with you, Mr. Mayor,” the Camera Chap replied, with a
smile, “neither did I. The party hasn’t been formed yet. Carroll is
going to organize it himself out of the _Bulletin’s_ readers.”
Martin Henkle shrugged his shoulders. “If Carroll wants to make an idiot
of himself, I can’t stop him, of course,” he growled. “But if he’s got
an ounce of sense he’ll accept my proposition, and turn that lean,
hungry paper of his into a profitable sheet. You put it up to him, Mr.
Hawley, and see what he thinks about it.”
“Very well, Mr. Mayor,” said the Camera Chap politely. “I’ll make it a
point to see him before I take the seven o’clock train to New York.”
The latter part of this answer seemed to astonish the mayor. “But you’re
not going to take the seven o’clock train to New York,” he protested.
“You’re going to stay in Oldham and earn that fifty dollars by making
the affidavit.”
“I think not,” the Camera Chap rejoined quietly.
“Suppose we make it a hundred dollars instead of fifty?”
Hawley shook his head. “Not if you were to make it a hundred thousand
dollars, Mr. Mayor!” he declared.
The tone in which he said it ought to have convinced Martin Henkle that
it was useless to attempt to alter his decision, but the latter did not
quite give up hope of getting that affidavit. He knew that newspaper
photographers were poorly paid, as a rule, and, not supposing that
Hawley was any exception to that rule, he thought that a hundred dollars
must look like a lot of money to him. Even though he refused it now, he
no doubt would change his mind after he had had a little time to
consider the many things he could do with that sum.
“Well, think it over, Mr. Hawley,” the mayor said. “No use deciding
hastily. If you change your mind before the New York train leaves, drop
in here again and let me know. I’ll be at the city hall until then.
Remember, you get that hundred just as soon as you put your signature to
the affidavit.”