Chapter XXVI: A Big Hit

Before the hour for going to press arrived, two more attempts were made to prevent the Bulletin’s snapshots from reaching the public. The first of these was an endeavor to persuade Carroll’s printers and pressmen to go on strike. The men were approached by a local politician, who offered them tempting cash inducements to refuse to get out the paper. But both the composing-room and pressroom forces indignantly refused to listen to this sinister suggestion. They all liked their young employer, and admired him for the plucky fight he was making. There was not a man of them whose loyalty could be shaken. So this attempt proved as futile as had been the effort to bribe the _Bulletin’s_ photo-engraver.

The other attempt was of a more violent nature. Just as the paper was going to press, a gang of hoodlums endeavored to force their way into the Bulletin Building, with the obvious intention of invading the pressroom, and smashing the forms. But Carroll barred the doors, and from a window of the editorial rooms addressed the band of toughs, displaying a revolver, and threatening to shoot the first man who dared to set foot within the premises. There was a note in his voice which caused them to believe that he meant business, and kept them back.

This last effort of the enemy having failed, like the others, nothing else occurred to interfere with the getting out the _Bulletin_, and a few hours later, the citizens of Oldham were chuckling over Hawley’s snapshots, and warmly praising Carroll’s newspaper for its enterprise and fearlessness.

The success of the _Bulletin’s_ exposé was even greater than the Camera Chap had predicted. Not only was the entire issue sold out, but the name of Carroll’s newspaper was on every tongue, which, of course, was a fine thing from the standpoint of future circulation; for the more a newspaper is talked about, the more it is read. In fact, many persons who found it impossible to obtain copies of the paper, on account of the unprecedented demand, called at the _Bulletin_ office that day, and paid for a year’s subscription, so as to guard against the possibility of such a thing happening again.

Letters of congratulation came pouring in by every mail. “Constant Reader,” “Pro Bono Publico,” “Vox Populi,” and a host of others eagerly wrote to thank the editor of the _Bulletin_ for the public service which he had rendered.

For while, as has been said above, Hawley’s snapshots appealed to the sense of humor of many, and were provocative of chuckles, there were as many more who saw the serious side of the situation, and were stirred to righteous wrath by the shameful conditions which the _Bulletin_ had revealed to them.

These good people were in the habit of going to bed early, and therefore never would have discovered that the city was not being properly and faithfully policed at night if Carroll’s newspaper had not opened their eyes.

A delegation of taxpayers, thirty strong, called at the city hall that morning, and demanded an audience with the mayor.

Each of them had a copy of the current issue of the _Bulletin_ in his hand, and each of them had fire in his eye. When they were ushered into the mayor’s private office they proceeded to deliver themselves of utterances so forceful and to the point that his honor squirmed in his chair as he listened.

As soon as they had gone, Mayor Henkel reached for the telephone on his desk, and called up police headquarters.

“Is that you, Hodgins?” he growled into the transmitter.

“Yes, Mr. Mayor.” Chief Hodgins’ voice was very meek, and a trifle unsteady. He, too, had seen the _Bulletin_ that morning.

“Come on over here at once!” snarled his honor. “I want to see you.”

The chief lost no time in getting over to the city hall. Not that he was intensely eager for this interview, but he gathered the impression from the tone of the mayor’s voice over the wire that its owner was more than a trifle peevish, and he knew better than to keep him waiting when he was in such a mood.

“I suppose you’ve seen the _Bulletin_?” snapped the mayor, as Hodgins stepped into the room.

“Yes, Mr. Mayor. Of course, I don’t make a practice of readin’ that disreputable sheet, but somebody happened to hand me a copy this mornin’, and called my attention to the--ahem--dastardly outrage on the front page. Ain’t it fierce, Mr. Mayor?”

His honor glared at him. “Yes, it’s fierce, all right!” he growled. “But it’s only what we’ve got to expect when we’ve got a bonehead like you at the head of the department.”

The chief’s round face turned purple. “Now, see here, Mr. Mayor,” he said plaintively, “is it fair to blame me when you----”

“Never mind that now,” his honor interrupted curtly. “I’ll attend to your case later on--and to all those others who have gone and got my administration in bad by getting their pictures in that confounded newspaper. I’m going to teach you all a lesson you won’t forget in a hurry, I promise you. But that’ll keep for a little while. There’s something else that I want to attend to first. Do you know who took those snapshots for the _Bulletin_?”

“I am told that it was that young loafer from New York named Hawley, who----” began the chief.

“So it was he, was it? I suspected as much,” Mayor Henkle muttered. “Do you know where he is at this moment, Hodgins?”

“No, I don’t,” replied the chief of police, with a scowl. “But I guess I can find him, all right. I am going to court as soon as I leave here, to swear out a warrant for his arrest; and then I----”

“You’re going to do nothing of the kind,” his honor broke in, with much vehemence. “You big, blundering boob, haven’t you got enough sense to realize that we can’t arrest him?”

“Why not?” demanded Hodgins in great astonishment. “He took those snapshots without a license, didn’t he? That’s a clear violation of the law. It seems to me that here’s a fine opportunity to put the scamp behind bars for six months. He can’t beat the case this time.”

“Oh, it seems that way to you, does it?” sneered his honor. “Well, maybe if you stop to think for a minute, you’ll realize what effect it would have upon the people of this town if we were to send that chap to jail for taking those pictures. It would be regarded as a piece of spite work, and public sentiment would be dead against us. I don’t want that.”

“What do you propose to do, then?” inquired Hodgins, making no effort to conceal his disappointment.

“Go and find that camera man, and bring him to me,” the mayor commanded. “Don’t arrest him. Persuade him to come here under a flag of truce. I want to talk with him.”