“Hi, young man, where’s the fire?”
“Big story!” Flash returned as he pressed the elevator button. “I have a corking picture! If only it turns out—and I think it will! Say, has that fellow gone to sleep?”
Unwilling to wait for the cage to descend, he took the stairs two at a time.
Pausing in the news room only long enough to tell the night editor what he had, Flash went on down the corridor to the photography department. He knew he had stirred up plenty of excitement behind him. The arson story was important and ought to be given a prominent play on page one. If the police should capture the two missing men, especially the mysterious ‘H. J.’ who seemed to be the brains of the ring, it would mean the biggest picture break since he had started work on the Ledger!
“I hope the film is okay,” he thought uneasily. “A lot depends on it.”
Into Flash’s mind came a dread which he could not have expressed in words. It was exactly as if he had received an intuitive warning. He had lost several big pictures, seemingly through no fault of his own. Something might happen this time.
“I’ll not take any chances,” he told himself. “Until my picture is out of the darkroom and actually in the hands of the editor, I’ll stay with it! There will be no slip-up.”
The photographic department was dark and deserted. Flash did not bother to turn on the lights. Entering the darkroom, he closed the door.
Unwilling to take any chance by using old developer or hypo, he mixed fresh chemicals before switching on the green light and removing his precious film from the holder.
Carefully, to avoid the slightest scratch, he lowered it into the tank and kept the water moving. In an agony of hope and suspense he watched as a faint image began to appear on the negative. He had something, but would it turn out to be only a blur?