Now that Flash actually had gained entrance to the bedroom, the possibility that Old Herm had wielded the blackjack seemed more remote than ever.
“But since I’m here, I may as well look around,” he decided. “I feel like a crook doing it though!”
Taking care to disturb nothing, he began a systematic inspection of the room. He pulled out bureau drawers, looking beneath piles of shirts and underclothing. There was no sign of a blackjack or any weapon which possibly could arouse suspicion.
Flash had convinced himself that further search was useless when his gaze roamed back to the center table. Several books were lying there. The title of one of the volumes captured his attention. It was called “Newspaper Photography.” And beside the book was a more technical treatment on the subject of darkroom procedure.
“Now why would Old Herm be interested in photography?” mused Flash. “I don’t believe he even owns a camera.”
Opening one of the volumes at random, he found several marked passages which had to do with the mixing of chemicals.
As Flash read one of the paragraphs, he heard a heavy step outside the door. The next moment a key rattled in the lock. Someone was coming to investigate!
Dropping the book, Flash barely had time to reach up and snap off the light. In panic he glanced about for a place to hide. There was no time even to cross the room to a closet. He chose the only available place—under the bed.
Barely had he rolled beneath it when the outside door opened. The light was switched on.
Flash could see only the feet and legs of the man who had entered, but from the uneven step he knew instantly that it was Herm. Why wasn’t the watchman on duty at the Ledger as usual? For all he knew, the old fellow might have been taken ill and had returned home for the night.