“Why am I sure of it? Why am I sure that a man who couldn’t swim would drown if he were to jump overboard from the hurricane deck of a liner in mid-Atlantic on a dark night? Because, my reckless young friend, my common sense enables me to foresee clearly what would happen in both cases. Our friend, Chief Hodgins, would stay awake night and day in order to take advantage of such a grand opportunity to get even with you. Every policeman of the Oldham force would have instructions to bring you in, alive or dead. My esteemed contemporary, the _Chronicle_, would publish a full description of you, refer to you as ‘the camera bandit,’ and appeal to all good citizens to aid in your capture. The whole city of Oldham would be on the watch for you. What chance would you have?” A sparkle came to the eyes of the Camera Chap. “By Jove, Fred, that’s an alluring picture you’ve painted!” he exclaimed, with great enthusiasm. “Alluring?” repeated the other deprecatingly. “Yes. I hadn’t figured that it would be quite as exciting as all that. But I have no doubt the conditions will be just as you’ve pictured them, and I can see that I’m going to have even more fun than I expected.” “Fun! Do you mean to say that you could get any fun out of a situation of that sort?” “Why, of course,” Hawley replied simply. “Think of the sport of taking snapshots in the face of such difficulties! Think of the fun of dodging those fellows! The greater the danger, you know, Fred, the more fascination there is to the picture game. There’s nothing in taking snapshots which require no risk.” To some men who did not know Frank Hawley, these words might have sounded suspiciously like bombast; but Carroll knew well that the New York _Sentinel’s_ star camera man was no braggart, and that what he had just said simply and truly expressed his viewpoint regarding “the picture game.” “But, apart from the good time I shall have, think what a great thing this snapshot campaign of mine will be for the _Bulletin_,” the Camera Chap continued earnestly. “I predict a big boom in your paper’s circulation, Fred, as soon as I get started. The more I’m denounced by the police and the _Chronicle_, the more eager people will be to see the pictures taken by ‘the desperate camera bandit.’ _Bulletins_ will sell like hot cakes, Fred, and your coffers will be full of real money. For Miss Melba’s sake, as well as your own, you’ve got to accept my proposition.” In spite of himself, a wistful expression came to Carroll’s face. He realized the truth of what Hawley said. He had every reason to believe that snapshots taken under such conditions and published daily on the front page of the _Bulletin_ would greatly increase the sale of that paper.