but, bless you! he couldn't do nothin', and I could almost hear
him swear as he rubbed his eyes after he had been lookin' down
for a little while."

Clewe laughed. "I see," said he. "I suppose you turned on the
photo-hose."

"That's just what I did," said the old man. "Every night while
you were away I had the lens-room filled with the revolving-light
squirts, and when these were turned on I knew there was no
gettin' any kind of rays through them. A feller may look through
a roof and a wall, but he can't look through light comin' the
other way, especially when it's twistin' and curlin' and
spittin'."

"That's a capital idea," said Clewe. "I never thought of using
the photo-hose in that way. But there are very few people in
this world who would know anything about my new lens machinery
even if they saw it. This fellow must have been that Pole,
Rovinski. I met him in Europe, and I think he came over here not
long before I did."

"That's the man, sir," said Samuel. "I turned a needle searchlight
on him just as he was givin' up the business, and I have got a little
photograph of him at the house. His face is mostly beard, but
you'll know him."

"What became of him?" asked Clewe.

"My light frightened him," he said, "and the wind took him over