"But if you want to work that flashlight, I don't
mind."
"Delighted," Mr. Blensop asserted. "How does it go, now?"
"Like this." Stone set his camera down to demonstrate. "Now just stand
behind me," he concluded, "and pull the trigger when I say 'now'."
"I'll do my best, but--I say--will it bang?"
Stone had taken up the camera once more. His sole answer was a grunt upon
which his hearers placed two distinct interpretations--Lanyard's affording
him considerable gratification.
"If you're ready," said Stone--"_now_"
Mr. Blensop squinted unbecomingly and pressed the trigger. A vivid flare
lifted from the pan of the pistol, and winked out in a cloud of vapour,
slowly dissipating.
"Is that all?"
"Yes, sir--that's all of that." Stone stowed the camera away about his
person and from another cranny produced a small cardboard box of glass
slides, one of which he offered. "Now if you'll just run your fingers
through your hair and rest them on this slide, light but steady...."
"What for?" Blensop demanded with a giggle of nervous reluctance.
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