After his exciting visit to Oldham, the Camera Chap resumed his rest cure at his friend’s place in the mountains; but he kept in touch with Carroll by telephone, and these conversations made him yearn for another excursion into town. One morning--to be precise, it was just three days after his trip to Oldham--Carroll called him up on the telephone and imparted to him an interesting piece of news. “You ought to feel flattered, Hawley, old man,” the proprietor of the _Bulletin_ chuckled. “They’ve passed an ordinance solely on your account. Of course, they won’t admit that you were the cause of it, but I am quite sure that the bill was put through expressly to prevent you from coming back and taking any more snapshots.” “What’s the nature of the ordinance?” the Camera Chap inquired. “It is known as the ‘anticamera bill.’ Makes it a misdemeanor to take a photograph on the streets of Oldham or in any of the public buildings without a special license from the chief of police.” “What’s the penalty?” Hawley inquired, with great interest. “A fine of a hundred dollars or six months in the penitentiary, or both,” Carroll replied. “Great Scott!” exclaimed the Camera Chap. “Six months in jail for taking a picture! Why didn’t they make it hanging while they were about it?” “Perhaps they would if they had thought of it,” returned Carroll. “But I say, old man, be sure to keep away from Oldham; or, if you should have to come to town for any reason, don’t fail to leave your camera behind you. Chief Hodgins is just wasting away with yearning for a chance to get even with you; and you can rest assured that if they catch you violating the law, it won’t be merely a hundred-dollar fine in your case--it will be a hundred-dollar fine and six months’ imprisonment.” “That would be pleasant,” said the Camera Chap, with a laugh. “Much obliged for tipping me off, old man. I shall certainly make it a point to be careful. Any more news?” “Nothing worth mentioning. I told you the other day that your old friend Gale, of the _Daily News_, was in town, helping his old man run the _Chronicle_, didn’t I?” “Yes. What’s he doing? Up to any of his old tricks?” “I haven’t been able to get wind of any, but I guess he’s planning some mischief, all right,” replied Carroll, with a laugh. “I met him on the street yesterday, and he was so effusive that my suspicions were at once aroused. He shook me by the hand as though he had always loved me like a brother; said he hoped that I’d let bygones be bygones and that we’d be good friends--that there was no reason why fellows should be enemies just because they were running rival papers. You know the smooth line of talk that faker can hand out.” The Camera Chap laughed. “Yes; and, as you say, he’s generally planning some mischief when he lays it on as thick as that. Better keep a sharp lookout, Fred.”