“Nonsense!” cried his honor peevishly. “It says on the streets, not of the streets. Somebody has been misleading you.” “Not at all, your honor. I have seen the original copy of the ordinance myself. I had occasion to examine it less than an hour ago, and I was very particular to notice its exact wording. If your honor will take the trouble to inspect the original draft of the ordinance--the one which was signed by the mayor--you will find that I am right.” “If such is the case,” Mayor Henkle broke in, with a scowl, “it is merely a typographical error. Everybody knows that it was the intention of the framers of the ordinance to regulate the taking of photographs on the streets of Oldham.” “I am willing to concede that, sir,” counsel for the defense replied smilingly. “But, fortunately for my client, intentions don’t count. The use of the word of, instead of on, may be a typographical error, but the law must be interpreted precisely as it reads. It isn’t by any means the first time that a typographical error has saved a man from jail. I have known cases where even a misplaced comma has had that result.” Then he turned once more to the magistrate. “I repeat my motion, your honor, that this case be dismissed. Since none of these snapshots which my client is accused of taking--and which he admits having taken--is a photograph of the streets of Oldham, he is guilty of no violation of the law.” The magistrate frowned. “We will adjourn court while we go and inspect the original draft of the ordinance,” he announced. Then, turning to the Honorable Martin Henkle, he whispered to that discomfited official’s ear: “If this typographical error really does exist, Mr. Mayor, I am afraid that we will have to throw the case out of court. As this lawyer has said, the accused is entitled to a strict interpretation of the law. If I decided otherwise, they would go to a higher court.” Once more the Camera Chap’s phenomenal luck, which never seemed to desert him when he was in tight places, had come to his rescue. The carelessness of a typist in striking the letter “f” instead of the letter “n,” and the fact that the mayor had put his signature and seal to the document without noticing the error, enabled him to leave court, half an hour later, a free man. But Hawley did not give all the credit to his lucky star. When the magistrate, returning from the vaults in which the original drafts of Oldham’s ordinances were preserved, very ungraciously granted Lawyer Hands’ motion that the case be dismissed, the Camera Chap turned to his counsel with a grateful smile. “I owe my liberty to you, sir,” he exclaimed. “I shan’t forget it in a hurry. How on earth did you happen to guess that you would find that mistake in the wording of the law?”