“It’s nothing.”
Despite his protests, she hastened to the medicine cabinet for iodine and adhesive tape. As she bathed and bandaged the wound, she drew from Flash an account of what had occurred.
He ended by saying: “This was extra work I was doing tonight, so I’ll not be fired. But I figure it’s bound to come before many weeks. Someone is out to get my job!”
“I almost wish you would lose it,” Mrs. Evans shuddered. “Since you started work at the Ledger, I’ve not had an easy moment. I’m so afraid something dreadful will happen to you. If only you hadn’t become mixed up in this arson affair!”
“I had a close call tonight,” Flash admitted. “But the same thing isn’t likely to happen twice. What makes me sore is that by losing the picture, I’ve fixed it so the real head of the arson gang never will be captured.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe not, but the result is the same. I muffed a wonderful opportunity to round up those men, get a scoop for the Ledger, and at the same time make a name for myself.”
“Things have been running against you,” his mother murmured sympathetically, “but it can’t continue that way indefinitely.”
“It can, unless I do some tall thinking,” he replied grimly. “Someone in the office has been after my job from the day I started work there!”
“You’re alluding to that man, Fred Orris?” his mother asked in a quiet voice.