“No hurry if we do. Take them along. And if you’re heading for the Ledger we’ll drop you off there on our way to headquarters. Hop in!”
Jimmy needed no second invitation. He jumped into the cruiser again, and they sped back to the downtown section of Brandale. At the Ledger office, he leaped off, the precious films and camera held tightly in his hands.
The elevator shot him up to the third floor. Brushing past the receptionist who sought to halt him, Jimmy walked straight to Riley’s desk. The editor looked up, scowling.
“I have them!” said Jimmy. “Pictures with a real news wallop! Take a look at these films.”
The auto crash negatives had dried during the wild ride in the police cruiser. He slapped them down on Riley’s desk.
“What is this?” the editor asked wearily. “Another auto wreck? Now you ought to know we can’t use that stuff unless it has an unusual angle.”
“This has. The car was stolen—”
“Brandale has anywhere from six to a dozen taken each day.”
“But this car was driven by Legs Jovitch.”
“What?” demanded Riley.