Patrolman John Hicks, of the Oldham police force, was a fairly vigilant guardian of the law--in the daytime. But when his turn came to do night duty, which happened regularly every second week, he always felt drowsy, no matter how much sleep he took by day to prepare himself for his nocturnal vigil. “Which goes to show that night work ain’t the right thing for a man,” Mr. Hicks was in the habit of complaining to his intimate friend. “It’s against nature. The daytime was made for man to work in, and the night for man to sleep in. Even the dumb beasts and the birds close their eyes at night. When you try to reverse this order of things, Nature rebels--and you can’t blame her.” Being anxious to offend Nature as little as possible, Officer Hicks had cultivated the habit of going to sleep standing up. So proficient had he become in this difficult art that he could lean against a lamp-post and slumber as soundly as if he were in his own comfortable bed at home. The night which Hawley had selected for his photographic exposé of police conditions in Oldham happened to be one of the nights on which Patrolman Hicks was on duty. He had selected the most comfortable lamp-post on his beat, and was propped against it, enjoying a deep sleep, when a big, black touring car, containing three men, came along. The automobile was moving almost noiselessly, but even if the man at the wheel had honked his horn as it drew near, it wouldn’t have caused any discomfort to Officer Hicks. He was too sound a sleeper to be bothered by the ordinary sounds of street traffic. In his somnolent moments, Mr. Hicks did not present a very picturesque appearance. Only a slender man can lean against a lamp-post and look graceful; and Officer Hicks was almost as fat as Chief of Police Hodgins. Moreover, like the latter, he had the habit of sleeping with his mouth partly open. But in spite of its lack of picturesqueness, his appearance caused great delight to the three men in the black touring car. That vehicle came to a stop a few feet away from the lamp-post, and one of the men leaned over the side of the tonneau, and pointed a camera toward the slumbering bluecoat. Then there came a vivid flash of light, a dull, booming sound, and a chuckle of triumph from the man with the camera. Possibly the dull, booming sound and the chuckle of the man would not have aroused Patrolman Hicks by themselves, but the vivid flash of light hitting him squarely on the eyelids brought him to his senses in an instant. Springing to an erect position, he stared in ludicrous astonishment at the automobile in front of him. He was about to step into the roadway and ask the three men what had happened, but before he could carry out his intention the automobile had started off at great speed. “Oh, well,” Officer Hicks muttered to himself, “I guess it was nothing serious. Probably a fuse blew out, or something of that sort. Them automobiles is queer things.”