Flash groaned and rolled over. “Go away and leave me alone,” he mumbled drowsily, burying his head deeper into the pillow.
“You’re wanted on the telephone!” screamed Joan at the top of her lungs. “It’s the _Ledger_ office!”
Flash leaped from bed. Pulling on his robe, he took the stairs two at a time, and snatched up the telephone receiver.
“Hello, Evans?” barked Riley’s voice. “What in blazes is the matter with you? Why didn’t you show up this morning?”
Flash was too startled to make a coherent reply.
“You deserve to be fired,” snapped Riley, “but when you’re through, I’ll tell you so! Now grab a taxi and get down to Dock 10. Two freighters collided. We want pictures right away.”
“I’ll get there as quickly as I can!” Flash exclaimed.
Bewildered by the unexpected turn of events, he darted back upstairs and quickly dressed.
“Jimmy, you’re not leaving without a cup of coffee,” his mother protested as he raced down again.
“Can’t stop for anything,” he answered, pulling on his overcoat.
Hailing a cab, Flash paused at the _Ledger_ building only long enough to pick up his camera equipment and then drove on to Dock 10. Hiring a launch, he motored out to the two vessels, took his pictures, and was back at the office in record time.
“Want me to help you develop those?” Fred Orris inquired, with a faint suggestion of a sneer.
Joe Wells, who was near, followed him into the darkroom and closed the door.
“Guess you heard what happened to my fire pictures,” Flash said in a low tone. “I can’t figure out what went wrong.”
“Neither can I,” answered Wells. “I fished those films out of the basket and looked at them. Never ran into anything just like it before. Now you go ahead and develop these films while I watch.”
With the photographer standing at his elbow, Flash followed exactly the same procedure which he had used the previous afternoon. The ship pictures came up quickly with good contrast.
“They’re all right,” said Wells with emphasis. “Orris can’t kick on those, or Riley, either.”
“My fire pictures were good, too. Something happened to them while they were in the water.”
“Only Orris so far as I know. You don’t think he would play a dirty trick just to get me fired?”
“I hear Orris has a nephew he’s been trying to get into the department for over a year,” Wells remarked thoughtfully. “Still, I’m sure he wouldn’t do it. Orris may be a crab but he’s not a snake.”