Neilson was working on an outside job--a half-tone cut for the letterhead of a local tailor--when they entered his laboratory. Observing this, Carroll was somewhat annoyed. He had asked Neilson to rush the cuts through, and, while he realized that it was the outside work which paid the expenses of the plant, he felt aggrieved that the tailor’s half tone should be given first attention. “How about that work I gave you?” he inquired sharply. “Started on it yet, Ole?” The engraver looked at him in astonishment. “How can I start on it until you give me back them negatives?” he exclaimed. “I ban yoost coming down to ask you for them.” “Give you back the negatives!” the proprietor of the _Bulletin_ repeated, with a puzzled frown. “What on earth are you talking about?” “I ban talking about those policemen’s negatives you want made into cuts for to-morrow’s paper, of course,” replied Neilson, a trifle nettled. “How can I make the cuts until I get the pictures?” “But you have the pictures,” Carroll protested. “Didn’t I give them to you?” “Sure you gave them to me once. But you ban take them back again, didn’t you?” replied the man indignantly. “I took them back?” “Sure! At least, you sent the boy for them--which is yoost the same, of course.” “The boy?” Carroll was beginning to grow uneasy. “What boy?” “That boy Miggsy, of course,” Neilson replied, now thoroughly out of temper. “What kind of a yoke you ban try to play with me, Mr. Carroll? I ban serious feller, and don’t like foolin’. Didn’t you send that Miggsy up here half an hour ago to say would I please let you have them negatives back right away?” Carroll’s face suddenly turned pale. “I certainly did not!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I sent no such message. Do you mean to say that Miggsy told you that I sent him?” “He sure did. He said you needed the pictures to show to somebody, and must have them right away. I ban yust starting to work on them when he came up, but I gave them to him.” With an exclamation of alarm, Carroll hurried downstairs to the editorial rooms to interview the office boy. The youngster was not in sight. “Seen anything of Miggsy?” he inquired anxiously of one of the reporters, whose desk was near the door. “Not lately. The last time I saw him, Mr. Carroll, was half an hour ago, when he went out to do that errand for you.” “An errand for me?” “Yes, that’s what he said. He was going out just as I came in, and he seemed to be in a great hurry. I stopped him on the stairway, and jokingly asked him what all the rush was about. He begged me not to delay him, as you had just sent him out on an errand of great importance which had to be attended to immediately.” Carroll turned to Hawley, who had followed him downstairs. They exchanged glances of consternation. “What do you make of it?” the proprietor of the _Bulletin_ said hoarsely. The Camera Chap smiled grimly. “It looks very much as if our young friend Miggsy had gone over to the enemy,” he said.