Hawley laughed at this suggestion. “Nothing doing,” he said. “I shan’t consider that we’ve done our duty until we have at least a round half dozen snapshots of delinquent cops in our collection. No use being a piker, Fred. Two pictures on the front page of the _Bulletin_ would make a measly showing. Besides, as I said before, I am by no means confident that Red Horgan’s picture will turn out well. If it’s too poor a negative for reproduction, that would leave us with only one. Lead the way to the cop in the woodpile, Parsons. We certainly can’t afford to pass him up. Is his beat far from here?” “Yes; it’s at the extreme northern end of the town,” the police reporter replied. “Don’t you know any others we’ll pass on the way there?” Hawley inquired. “We might as well take them in regular order. It’s growing late, and we haven’t any time to lose.” “Yes; there’s Mike Harrington, whose beat is on Cedar Street,” Parsons replied promptly. “He generally hangs out in Windmuller’s Café when he’s on night duty. His brother is employed there.” “Great stuff!” exclaimed the Camera Chap gleefully. “We’ll pay our respects to Patrolman Harrington before we disturb the slumbers of our friends in the woodpile. Is he a pinochle player, too, Parsons?” “I don’t think so,” the reporter answered, with a laugh. “You’ll most likely catch him in the act of diminishing Windmuller’s stock of goods. He’d have been ‘broke’ long ago for bad habits if it hadn’t been for his pull. His father is a member of the city council and one of Mayor Henkle’s most energetic political workers.” “Oldham certainly has some police department!” Hawley chuckled. “Please stop a short distance away from Windmuller’s place, old man. It wouldn’t do to drive right up to the door.” Carroll turned anxiously to the Camera Chap. “Do me a favor, Frank, and cut this one out,” he pleaded. “There’s no sense in taking such desperate chances. Windmuller’s place is almost as tough a joint as Dutch Louie’s. Let Harrington alone, and pass on to some easier ones.” “I guess this thing is going to be easy enough,” Hawley said confidently. “I intend to work that bromo-seltzer trick over again. I don’t see why it shouldn’t succeed as well in Windmuller’s place as in Dutch Louie’s. In fact, I stand a much better chance of getting away with it this time, for I know beforehand just what I’m going to do, and can proceed with calm deliberation. Besides, practice makes perfect, you know.” Carroll shook his head deprecatingly; but he realized that argument was useless, and made no further attempt to dissuade his rash and impetuous friend. Although the Camera Chap’s adventures that night were eventful enough to be worth recording fully, limitations of space render it inexpedient to describe them all in detail here.