Goaded by the jeers and snarls of the mayor and by his own frantic desire for vengeance, he sought desperately to capture the Camera Chap; but, try as he would, he could not succeed in laying hands on that elusive man. Hawley had become a veritable will-o’-the-wisp. Although every member of the force was as anxious as the chief to catch him, and kept a sharp lookout for him day and night, he seemed as immune from capture as a mosquito buzzing around the head of an armless man. Hodgins stationed detectives outside the _Bulletin_ office, in the hope of being able to apprehend him when he came to deliver the pictures; but, greatly to his chagrin, these sleuths reported that the Camera Chap did not come to the _Bulletin_ office. Evidently anticipating this ambush, he had made secret arrangements with Carroll to get the films to the _Bulletin_ without bringing them in person; but what this method was the police were unable to find out. Hodgins also sent detectives, armed with a warrant, up to the mountain retreat of Hawley’s host; but the latter informed the policemen that he had not seen the Camera Chap for several days. Evidently Hawley, anticipating this move, too, had seen fit to change his boarding house; and the police were unable to find his present residence. Through the medium of the _Chronicle_, the chief of police appealed to all good citizens to aid in the capture of the “notorious camera bandit.” Had this appeal met with a general response, the chances are that Hawley would soon have been caught; but, fortunately for him, the sympathies of the citizens of Oldham were largely on his side. The new anticamera law was not proving at all popular. People thought it a shame that the _Bulletin_ should be discriminated against, and the public in general was rather pleased than otherwise by Hawley’s success in dodging the police. But at last Hawley’s phenomenal luck deserted him. Chief Hodgins, strolling along Main Street one afternoon, saw a sight which astonished him so much that for a moment he was inclined to believe himself a victim of hallucinations. There, only a few yards ahead of him, stood a man with a camera in his hand, photographing an ornamental fountain in which several urchins were paddling and splashing--a thing forbidden by law, but ignored by the indolent police. It was the Camera Chap! His profile was turned toward the chief, and the latter recognized him at first glance. With a gasp of joy, Hodgins bounded forward. Hawley was so intent upon getting a focus that he did not perceive his danger until a heavy hand clutched him roughly by the coat collar and a hoarse voice exclaimed: “Got you at last! Try to get away, and I’ll let daylight into you!”