“Upon how long a leave of absence I can get from my managing editor. I am on the staff of the New York _Sentinel_, you know. I am here merely on a vacation. I came here originally with the intention of staying only a few days, but I am thinking of writing to Mr. Paxton--he’s the managing editor of the _Sentinel_--to ask if he won’t let me remain for several weeks longer.” “Humph! And what is your reason for wanting to remain?” “Oh, there are several reasons, Mr. Mayor. For one thing, I like the climate. I took this vacation on account of my health, you know, and this bracing air does me a world of good.” The mayor frowned. “Give me another reason.” “Well, to be quite candid with you, I want to stay and help my friend Fred Carroll get out the _Bulletin_,” the Camera Chap replied. The frown upon the mayor’s face deepened. “You haven’t written that letter to your managing editor yet, have you, Mr. Hawley?” he inquired. “Not yet. I intend to write it this evening.” “I wouldn’t, if I were you.” “Why not?” “Because,” Mayor Henkle replied slowly, “even if your editor is willing to extend your leave of absence, you’re not going to stay here. You’re going back to New York immediately, Mr. Hawley.” The Camera Chap grinned. “You mean you’re going to banish me from Oldham, Mr. Mayor?” “That’s an ugly way of putting it,” protested his honor, with a deprecating smile. “We won’t call it being banished. I am going to ask you, as a favor to me, to cut your vacation short, and return to New York.” “And suppose I refuse to go?” “You won’t refuse,” was the grim reply. “You impress me as being a sensible young man. I suppose you realize, Mr. Hawley, that we can send you to jail, right now, for taking those snapshots without a license. We have a clear case against you.” The Camera Chap nodded. “Yes, I suppose you have.” “But I don’t want to send you to jail,” the mayor continued. “I like you, and, as I said before, I admire the pluck and cleverness you displayed in getting those pictures. I think it would be a great pity to put such a talented man behind bars. So I am giving you this chance.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “It is just four p. m. There is a train for New York at seven. I guess you ought to be able to get ready in three hours. Will you promise me to leave on that train, Mr. Hawley?” The Camera Chap smiled ruefully. “I suppose I have no choice in the matter. I hate to leave Oldham, but, of course, I’d rather do that than go to jail.” There was a long pause. The mayor seemed to be turning something over in his mind. His keen gaze was fixed searchingly upon the Camera Chap’s face, and twice his lips moved, as though he were about to speak, but each time the words remained unspoken. Then, with sudden decision, he leaned forward in his chair, and said quietly: