“He’s taking a day off,” the man explained. “He’s gone out of town, I believe; but we expect him back to-morrow morning. Can’t your business wait until then?” “Hardly,” Gale replied. “The matter I wished to see him about requires immediate attention. Who’s in charge while he’s away?” “Captain Callman. Would you like to see him? He’s in the chief’s office now.” The captain greeted his visitor cordially when he heard that the latter was the son of the proprietor of the administration organ. _Chronicle_ men were as welcome at police headquarters as _Bulletin_ men were obnoxious. The captain listened with great interest to what Gale told him, and a troubled expression came to his face. “Do you know whose pictures they’ve got?” he inquired uneasily. “I know a couple of them. There were six altogether, but I haven’t the slightest idea who the other four were. It was quite impossible to recognize the faces in the negatives.” “Well, even if you couldn’t recognize the faces, it seems to me that you ought to have been able to distinguish the uniforms,” said Callman anxiously. “Didn’t happen to notice whether one of ’em was wearing a captain’s uniform, did you, young man?” “Why, yes,” said Gale. “There was a captain among them. It was a very clear snapshot--the best of the lot. It was taken on Main Street--I could tell that by the buildings in the background. But I don’t know which captain it was. As I have said, it wasn’t possible to distinguish the faces on the films.” “I think I know who it was, all right,” growled Callman. “I’ve got an idea that it was me. I’ve a hazy recollection that somebody took a flash-light picture of me on Main Street last night.” “A hazy recollection?” Gale echoed, with an inquiring inflection. The captain nodded gloomily. “Yes; I don’t remember much about it, but I’ve got a faint idea that the thing happened. You see, some of my friends gave me a little dinner as a token of their esteem last night, and--well, there must have been something wrong with the lobster salad, I guess. I had a fierce attack of--er--ptomaine poisoning, and when I left the festive board to go on duty I was pretty wabbly on my legs, and my head wasn’t very clear; but I’ve got just a dim recollection of a fellow standing in front of me with a camera, and of a flash light going off. I had clean forgotten all about it, but what you have told me has brought it back to me.” “Gee!” exclaimed Gale sympathetically. “So one of those snapshots is of you, eh? That’s too bad, captain. But what are you going to do about it? Surely you don’t intend to let those stiffs publish your picture?” Callman scowled. “Not if I can help it. But how can I stop ’em?” “Well, if I were in your place I shouldn’t hesitate at anything,” said Gale. “If necessary, I’d march a squad of cops into the _Bulletin_ office, and seize those films and the cuts made from them.”