"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."