Jimmy Drury: Candid Camera Detective

"Well, if Tom says that it must be so," replied Scottie. "Tom's Irish and I'm Scotch. But the Micks and Macks won the great war, so they say, and we still march side by side.

Jimmie had experienced many a thrill watching his pictures come into being on the shiny film, but never such a one as this. "So much depends upon it," he thought as a chill ran...

Next day two interesting people entered Jimmie's life. One had been there before, the other was an entire stranger. Each in his own way was to play a part in unraveling the myst...

Next day the fog hung even heavier than before over the city. It was because of this, perhaps, that Jimmie witnessed a strange bit of street drama and made a new friend, all of...

Supper was over in the hideout. A grand supper it had been. When time had come for bittersweet chocolate and cakes John had blown out the lamp. Only the gleams from the cracked...

"Candid camera!" came roaring out from the dark room, "You may as well all go home. Nothing big will ever come from a picture the size of a postage stamp."

"Good boy," the young detective exclaimed when Jimmie had told of this fresh discovery. "You're doing great work. Keep it up and we'll get that Silent Terror before he becomes t...

Jimmie was tired. The ball game was over. It was evening now and he and his father were on their way home. The events of that day had been exciting enough, but all days come to...

It was well after dark when he set out from his home that night. In a leather bag he carried a strange assortment of items. An old camera with a good lens and shutter, coils of...

John Nightingale, too, had a place in The Glen. And what a place it was! To the few who knew about it--and they were very few indeed--it was known as "John's hideout." It was we...

One hour later, with his small package of sweepings in his pocket and with the camera still under his arm, Jimmie found himself on the tenth floor of a down-town office building...

Jimmie Drury hated fog. He was thinking as he crossed the Madison Street bridge: "Perhaps the devil is a monster breathing out fire, but when his fires are banked he must breath...

"The trap is set." John repeated the words after Jimmie without realizing their full meaning. The truth is he had all but forgotten that Jimmie had laid plans to take a flashlig...

"That--" Tom Howe spoke slowly, with a suggestion almost of awe in his voice, "That is the most remarkable picture I have ever seen. In fact, the thing it reveals is almost unbe...

The attic was immense. It had never been finished off into rooms. It contained a rare assortment of cast-off things that had accumulated over a period of years. To really do a t...

As he rode down town next morning Jimmie carried the precious old camera with the unusual flashlight picture, taken by the trap in the old house, in a case safely strapped over...

It was night. The small clock on Tom Howe's desk was ticking its way toward nine. Tom sat by the window. With one eye squinting through his telescope, he kept up a running conve...

It was after their lunch that Tom Howe drew from an inner pocket something resembling a thin pack of cards. Though they were alone in a booth with their backs to the wall he gla...

"Then I'll take you along to get some shots of Durant pitching. We'll have to get them. This game is one of the big society events of the season. They----"

As he reclined on a heap of pillows in the sun-room, gazing dreamily out of the door, he saw Joe, Dick, Jerry, and Ned, his good school pals, practicing kick-offs and runs in th...

That evening Jimmie's father and mother were to be in the city with friends. It often fell to the lot of this popular Sports Editor to entertain big men of his own little world...