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Updated: May 7, 2025
Dave handed the plate to the moving picture man, who slanted it against the light and nodded intelligently. "Oh, that?" he said. "Yes, I remember all about it." "Where did you take it, Mr. Alden?" pressed Dave. "At Anseton. There's a sort of foreign quarter there, and I was catching up some street scenes. It was the Chinaman I shot. Wanted the costume, you know." "When was that?" asked Dave.
They made a descent on a river, much to the delight and wonder of the whole place, bought a new supply, and resumed their flight. It was after ten o'clock in the evening when the welcome lights of Anseton came into view. Dave did not look around for some hiding place on the outskirts on this occasion. He startled a drowsy policeman by landing in the middle of some vacant lots on his beat.
As I just said, though, we have been discovered." Now Hiram arose to his feet, the danger of being seen appearing to have passed. Dave followed his example. "Some one was here, you say?" began Dave. "Yes." "Who was it?" "A fellow who looked like some of the half breed Indians we saw fishing over near Anseton. I woke up, and he came in range clear as a picture.
It lacked two hours of nightfall but Dave had plenty to occupy his mind. For over an hour he sat looking over maps and memoranda, and blocking out his course. He had been very explicit and painstaking in questioning the moving picture man. He had made inquiries concerning Anseton and its vicinity down to the smallest detail.
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