Without bothering to glance again at the photography books, he unlocked the door with his skeleton key, stepped out into the deserted hall, and locked the door after himself. He reached the street in time to catch a glimpse of the watchman disappearing around a corner.
Flash believed that Old Herm meant to return to the Ledger office. To make certain he followed.
Drawing near the newspaper building, the watchman turned down an alley and emerged at the loading dock where Jeff, the colored boy was working.
“I’m back now, Jeff,” he said.
“Okay, boss,” the boy responded. “I done just like you told me.”
Old Herm took a coin from his hand and gave it to Jeff. With a friendly nod, he went on into the building.
Flash waited an interval before approaching the colored boy. Perching himself on the platform near the paper chute, he watched Jeff polish a windshield to a high gloss.
“Lookin’ fer someone?” the boy asked.
“Just killing time,” Flash returned. “How are you making out these days, Jeff? Get quite a few cars to polish?”
“Ten steady customers now,” the colored boy said proudly. “I ain’t doin’ bad.”