“I did not,” replied the man. “I thought he might be one of them anarchists, and I wasn’t going to be responsible for no bomb outrages. I told him that if he wanted dynamite, he’d have to go somewhere else for it.” Hawley was disappointed at this answer. It would have been more satisfactory, of course, if he could have obtained proof that Gale had actually bought the explosive. When he got back to Oldham, he told Lawyer Hands that it was his intention to go over all the ground once more in the hope of finding the place from which the explosive had been obtained. But the lawyer discouraged this plan. “I am quite sure that you wouldn’t succeed,” he declared. “The chances are a hundred to one that the man who sold him the dynamite, or whatever explosive was used, would be afraid to admit it for fear of getting into trouble. Anyway, we have got evidence enough now to save your friend Carroll. The fact that Gale tried to purchase dynamite from those workmen, plus the fact that he purchased that alarm clock, would be enough to convince any jury that the bomb outrage was a frame-up.” “But suppose he claims that he bought the alarm clock for another purpose?” suggested the Camera Chap. “In that event, he will be called upon to tell what he did with it. If he can’t produce the clock, he will have a hard job getting anybody to believe his story. “Besides,” the lawyer added, “you are not the only one who has been making discoveries. I have found out where they got that wooden box in which the infernal machine was inclosed. Young Gale got it from in front of the Bulletin Building the other day. I have found a couple of witnesses who saw him pick it up.” “Great work!” Hawley exclaimed joyously. “How long do you think it will be before poor Carroll is free, Mr. Hands?” “Not more than a couple of days,” was the encouraging reply. “The grand jury meets to-morrow. I’m going to make it my business to see that they hear the real facts about this case. When they learn the truth, there’ll be no indictment against Carroll.” Hawley’s face lighted up. “You’ve certainly done us a great service,” he said feelingly. “If ever I get a chance to show my gratitude----” “You’ve got a chance now,” the lawyer interrupted, with a smile. “How?” Hawley demanded, with an eagerness which was ample proof of his sincerity. “By agreeing to return with me to New York,” the lawyer explained. “Mr. Paxton, your managing editor, made me promise that I would bring you back with me. He says he thinks you’ve had quite enough of the peace and quiet of the picturesque Catskills.”