In the photographic department adjoining the wire-photo room, a man in a rumpled shirt sat with one leg thrown carelessly over the edge of a desk. Jimmy approached him hesitantly.
“No, I’m Joe Wells, just another flunky around this joint. Fred will be along any minute. I take it you’re the flashy kid Riley was raving about yesterday?”
“Raving at, you mean,” grinned Jimmy. “He didn’t like the way I held him up for a job.”
“Nuts! Riley always bellows, but he never holds it against a fellow for standing up to him. Now Orris is different.”
The photographer arose and stretched himself. “Your name is Evans, isn’t it?”
“Jimmy is all right, but you need a niftier moniker than that. Something with a little snap. I have it! Flash! That fits you like a glove! Flash Evans! How’s that, kid?”
Jimmy hardly knew what to make of the liberties so freely taken with his name but he smiled at the older man as if a favor had been conferred upon him. And strangely enough, the nickname “Flash” stuck, so that within a short time he answered to it as readily as he did to his own.
“You were speaking of Orris,” Wells went on, discreetly lowering his voice. “When that fellow reads you the riot act you say ‘yes, sir,’ and click your heels together like a little gentleman. Not that he isn’t usually right. Orris is a good photographer himself and knows what he wants. You can’t pass off any dud pictures on him.”
“I’ve a lot to learn and I’ll need to learn it quick. I can see that.”
Wells nodded absently. “While you’re waiting for Orris, I’ll show you around,” he offered. “Over there is our portrait parlor where we mug the publicity seekers. We have a pretty fair darkroom.”
He went ahead, snapping on the electric lights, Jimmy’s eyes kindled as he gazed about. The _Ledger_ darkroom was one of the best equipped he had ever seen, with long, chip-proof tanks of seamless, stainless steel and a foot-controlled treadle light to prevent any shock from wet hands.
“You’ll be expected to develop and print most of your own films,” said Wells. “Had much experience?”
“You’ll soon catch on. This is the electric dryer. Now I’ll show you the different printing papers we use and how we mix our chemicals—”
An outside door had slammed. A thin, hollow-cheeked man came into the photography room.