"There is no need to tell these silly old jossers what we're doing," he

said. "You see what I mean, Ham, old boy? We'll just take a picture

of them as they come along. Nobody will be any the wiser, and all

we'll have to do will be to put a little note in." All the time he was

fixing the camera on the tripod, focussing the lens on a tree by the

path. (It was amazing how quickly Bones mastered the technique of any

new hobby he took up.) From where Hamilton crouched in the bushes he could see the two men

plainly. His heart quaked, realising that one at least was possibly

the owner of the property on which he was trespassing; and he had all

an Englishman's horror of trespass. They were talking together, these

respectable gentlemen, when Bones began to turn the handle. They had

to pass through a patch of sunlight, and it was upon this that Bones

concentrated. Once one of them looked around as the sound of clicking

came to him, but at that moment Bones decided he had taken enough and

stopped.

"This," said he, as they gained the by-road where they had made their

unauthorised entry into the park, "is a good day's work."

Their car was on the main road, and to Hamilton's surprise he found the

two staid gentlemen regarding it when the party came up. They were

regarding it from a high bank behind the wall--a bank which commanded a

view of the road. One of them observed the camera and said something

in a low tone to the other; then the speaker walked down the bank,

opened a little wicker door in the wall, and came out.

He was a most polite man, and tactful.

"Have you been taking pictures?" he asked.

"Dear old fellow," said Bones. "I will not deceive you--we have."

There was a silence.

"In the--park, by any chance?" asked the gentleman carelessly.

Bones flinched. He felt rather guilty, if the truth be told.

"The fact is----" he began.

The elderly man listened to the story of "The Bad Girl's Legacy," its

genesis, its remarkable literary qualities, and its photographic value.

He seemed to know a great deal about cinematographs, and asked several

questions.

"So you have an expert who sees the pieces as they are produced?" he

asked. "Who is that?"

"Mr. Tim Lewis," said Bones. "He's one of the----"

"Lewis?" said the other quickly. "Is that Lewis the stockbroker? And

does he see every piece you take?"

Bones was getting weary of answering questions.

"Respected sir and park proprietor," he said, "if we have trespassed, I

apologise. If we did any harm innocently, and without knowing that we

transgressed the jolly old conventions--if we, as I say, took a picture

of you and your fellow park proprietor without a thank-you-very-much, I

am sorry."




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