Chapter XII: The Frame-Up

During the two hours in which Hawley had been confined in a cell at police headquarters, waiting to be taken to court, Gale had suggested to Chief of Police Hodgins that it would be a good plan to take the prisoner’s camera to a professional photographer and have the film developed so as to make the case against the Camera Chap as complete as possible.

The chief had agreed that this would be a wise precaution. He had a friend who ran a portrait studio a few doors from police headquarters, and he and Gale proceeded to this place.

Without the slightest suspicion as to its contents, they handed Hawley’s camera to the photographer and accompanied him into his dark room so as to be able to swear conscientiously in court, later on, that they had been present when the film was taken out and developed, and could positively identify it.

Great was their astonishment when the camera was opened and out popped a jack-in-the-box, with its fingers derisively extending from its nose.

In addition to the cheap film camera--the one which Chief Hodgins now held as evidence--the Camera Chap had also purchased a toy which is to be found in every toy shop in the world.

This article comes in all sizes. The jack-in-the-box which Hawley selected was small, and fitted snugly inside the cheap film camera after the roll of film had been removed.

Before leaving the store, Hawley had taken out his pocketknife and removed the lid of the jack-in-the-box. Then he stuffed the rest of the toy inside the camera, compressing the spring so that when the little trapdoor in the camera was opened Jack would immediately pop out in a startling manner.

By the light of the photographer’s ruby lamp, Hodgins and Gale exchanged glances of blank dismay.

For a few moments the chief’s emotion was so profound that he was quite incapable of speech. He stood scowling at the papier-mâché figure, and from his throat came strange noises as though he were about to have a fit.

“It looks as if we’ve been handed a nice, juicy lemon,” exclaimed Gale, with a grim laugh. “There’s no film there, of course.”

“Not a bit of film,” replied the photographer to whom this question was addressed. “This funny little jumping jack occupies all the space where the film roll should go.”

Gale turned regretfully to Hodgins. “Guess we don’t get Hawley this time, chief. I understand now why that stiff was so amused over his arrest. He didn’t expect that we’d open the camera before we got to court, and he figured on making us look like a couple of fools there.”

What Chief Hodgins said in response cannot be printed here. He had recovered his power of speech by this time, and proceeded to make good use--or, rather, bad use--of it.

“Well, at all events,” said Gale soothingly, “you’re lucky to have discovered this miserable trick here and now, instead of later on in court. You have at least saved your dignity, chief.”

“Dignity my eye!” growled Hodgins, refusing to find any comfort in this reflection. “I wanted that impudent loafer in jail--I’d almost give my right hand to be able to put him there--and this is a terrible disappointment. Honest, young feller, it’s enough to make a man feel discouraged.”

Then it was that Gale had an inspiration. Taking Hawley’s camera from the table, he hurried out of the studio, signaling to Hodgins to follow him.

When they reached the sidewalk, Gale explained his plan, and the chief slapped him on the back approvingly.

“You’re all right, young feller,” he declared warmly. “I see you’ve got nerve as well as brains. Under ordinary circumstances, of course, I don’t approve of frame-ups. Honesty’s the best policy--that’s my motto. But these ain’t ordinary circumstances. That’ darned Camera Chap is a menace to society. It would be a real calamity to have him at large. Consequently it is my duty to the public to keep him behind bars; and when duty calls upon Bill Hodgins, he don’t stop at nothin’. So go ahead, young feller, and carry out this idea of yours.”

Gale’s plan, it is perhaps unnecessary to explain, was to manufacture the evidence necessary to convict the Camera Chap. With this object in view, he visited a dealer in photographic supplies and had Hawley’s camera loaded with film.

Then he proceeded to the city hall and took a snapshot of that edifice, taking care to stand in exactly the same spot which the Camera Chap had occupied.

When the film was developed, Hodgins and Gale had taken their prisoner to court, both of them highly elated by the thought of the surprise they were going to spring on Hawley.

As soon as the film was offered in evidence, the Camera Chap guessed at once what had been done; but he realized that it would be futile to try to make the judge believe that he was the victim of a frame-up. He foresaw that his story would be received with derision, and he looked upon himself as lost.

Judge Wall glanced at the negative which Hodgins had handed to him, and smiled approvingly at that official.

“I must compliment you, chief, upon the thoroughness with which you have prepared this case,” he said. “The evidence which you have offered leaves no possible doubt in the court’s mind as to the guilt of the defendant.”

Then his face grew stern as he turned to the Camera Chap. In his most impressive tone he proceeded to deliver a little speech to that young man. His honor greatly prided himself upon his ability as an orator, and he had no intention of missing this rare opportunity to display eloquence before an audience which included the mayor and several of the prominent officials of the city government. Besides, he saw two reporters--one from the _Chronicle_ and one from the _Bulletin_--busily making notes, and he realized that his words were about to be handed down to posterity.

“The city of Oldham,” he began, “has good cause to congratulate itself upon the wisdom of its city fathers--as that body of public-spirited men who comprise the city council has been affectionately nicknamed. Never has that wisdom been more strikingly manifested than by the framing of the recent ordinance regulating the use of cameras upon our public highways and within our public buildings.”

The magistrate paused long enough to enable the reporters to catch up with him. Then he went on:

“Like the sword, the revolver, and other deadly weapons, the camera is an instrument of both good and evil. In the hands of decent men it is a blessing to humanity. In the hands of the vicious it is a menace to society.”

As the magistrate uttered these words, Chief Hodgins was so stirred that he clapped his hands applaudingly, and had to be reminded by his honor that such conduct was unseemly in a courtroom.

“It is possible that the city of Oldham--always progressive--is the first city in the United States to enact legislation controlling the use of the camera,” the magistrate continued. “But it can safely be predicted that other cities will soon follow our example. They will realize that if it is proper to require licenses for dogs, firearms, automobiles, and alcohol, there is every reason why cameras should be licensed, too. For the camera is quite as dangerous as a revolver or a mad dog--when it is used by such reckless rascals as the prisoner at the bar.”

Once more Chief Hodgins started to applaud, but managed to control himself just in time to escape another reprimand.

“Your guilt has been fully established,” said his honor to the Camera Chap. “You are the first offender to be brought up for trial under the new law, and I am going to make an example of you. I am going to give you the maximum penalty, to serve as a warning to others of your ilk.”

The magistrate was just about to pass sentence, when the mayor, in a whisper, reminded him that he had not yet given the prisoner a chance to say anything in his defense. The mayor had no desire to befriend the Camera Chap, but he wished the proceedings to be quite regular.

Somewhat crestfallen at his blunder, Judge Wall turned to Hawley with a scowl.

“Is there anything you wish to say before I pass sentence, young man?” he snapped.

Hawley felt so sure that it would be useless for him to declare that the evidence against him had been manufactured, that he was about to shake his head in negation, when it occurred to him to ask to be allowed to examine the film negative which his honor still held in his hand.

Although the chance was slim, he was in hopes that he might be able to detect something on this exhibit which would enable him to prove that he had not taken the snapshot.

The court had no objection to the defendant’s examining the negative, and the strip of film was handed to the Camera Chap.

As he held it up to the light and scrutinized it intently, the gaze of Gale and Chief Hodgins was fixed searching upon his face. It was rather an anxious moment for them.

But sneers curled their lips as they observed the baffled expression which came to Hawley’s countenance. It was quite evident that he had found nothing which would enable him to prove that he was the victim of a frame-up.

The Camera Chap was just about to hand back the film to the court officer and prepare to take his medicine, when suddenly Hodgins and Gale saw him start violently. Then once more he held the negative up to the light, and, with sudden apprehension, they observed the grim look on his face give way to a broad grin.

“Your honor,” the Camera Chap cried excitedly, “you ask if I have anything to say before you pass sentence upon me. I have a few words to say now. I wish to point out to your honor that it was two p. m. when I was placed under arrest, and a quarter past two when I arrived at police headquarters and was locked in a cell. The police blotter will prove that.”

“The chief of police has testified as to the time of your arrest,” said the magistrate testily. “It was two p. m., as you say. But what has that to do with the case? I don’t see the significance of that fact.”

The Camera Chap’s grin broadened. “I think your honor will see the significance when I point out that this photograph was taken at three p. m., and, consequently, could not have been taken by me.”

“What nonsense is this?” his honor snapped. “It will do you no good to trifle with the court, young man.”

“I am not trifling with the court,” Hawley replied. “There can’t be any question about the time this snapshot was taken, your honor. If you will hold the negative up to the light, as I have done, you will see plainly that the hands of the clock in the tower of the city hall are pointing to three o’clock. Evidently the gentlemen responsible for this frame-up overlooked that small detail. If they had thought of it, it would have been easy for them to have touched up the negative a bit so as to have spoiled the face of that clock.”

The faces of Gale and Chief Hodgins had turned quite pale. Their pallor increased when Judge Wall examined the negative, and, in a tone of great astonishment, confirmed the defendant’s statement.

“The hands of the clock in this picture certainly are pointing to three o’clock,” his honor declared. “What does it mean, chief?”

“The clock must have been fast,” suggested Hodgins, in an agitated tone.

The judge glanced out of the courtroom window, from which the white clock tower of the city hall was visible. Then he consulted his watch, and the timepiece on the wall of the courtroom.

“The city-hall clock is not fast--it is exactly right!” he declared sharply. “Moreover, I have never heard of that clock being wrong. I don’t believe it has gained or lost a minute in ten years. I can’t understand this thing at all, chief.”

Judge Wall was a friend of Chief Hodgins and the other members of the political ring which the _Bulletin_ was fighting. He was willing to do a lot to accommodate these men, but he emphatically drew the line at sending an innocent man to jail.

Therefore, when he had heard the Camera Chap’s story, he turned to Hodgins with a frown. “I am afraid I shall have to throw this case out of court, chief,” he said. “There are several things about it which I don’t understand; but, in view of these--ahem--surprising developments, I am convinced that there is not sufficient evidence to justify me in convicting this young man. The prisoner is discharged.”