“If it isn’t H. J. himself!” exclaimed one of the men from the furnace room. “You sure gave us a scare!”
“Yeah, we thought you might be the watchman!” added the other.
“Andy is well taken care of,” the newcomer said briefly. “He had a weakness for a bottle. I left him with two. How are you doing here?”
“We’re through.”
“Let’s have a look. We can’t afford any mistakes this time.”
Flash’s mind worked with lightning-like rapidity. In another minute or two the men would leave the warehouse and all trace of them might be lost.
It would be foolhardy, he knew, to try to battle with three armed assailants. True, he might steal back upstairs and lock the basement door, but such tactics would not hold the men long. They easily could break a basement or upstairs window and make a get-away before he could bring help. In that event, there would be no real evidence against them.
Flash was quite sure he never could give the police a useful description of the men. In the semi-dark basement room he was unable to obtain a clear view of their faces. If only he dared set off a flash and take a picture! Provided with a good photograph of the acknowledged “higher up,” the police should be able to trace the man and perhaps break up the entire arson ring.
“This is my big chance,” he thought tensely. “I only hope I don’t mess it up!”
Flash knew exactly what he must do. He would take his flash gun picture and then make a dive for the stairway.