“Who cares? He won’t make you any more trouble. I imagine he’ll never show up at the Ledger again after what happened. But if he should be dumb enough to try to keep his job, I’ll drop a hint in the editor’s ear.”
“We’ve probably seen the last of Old Herm,” Flash agreed. “From now on things should roll a lot smoother for me.”
There was an awkward pause. Orris avoided looking directly at Flash as he said:
“I owe you an apology. The truth is, I didn’t like you very well when you first started work here. I thought you were a cocky kid who needed to be put in his place.”
“Guess you weren’t far wrong at that.”
“Yes, I was,” Orris denied. “You had the stuff even if it took me a long while to recognize it. When you had so much trouble with your pictures, streaking and losing them, I figured you were inexperienced.”
“I did slip up on the fight pictures, Fred. The other mistakes were the result of Old Herm’s work.”
“You have what it takes,” Orris resumed. “After being out with you tonight I know your pictures aren’t a matter of accident. You’re a good photographer.”
“Thanks,” returned Flash. Coming from Orris, the praise was indeed high. He added: “But I still have plenty to learn.”
He bore the head photographer no grudge. From now on he would understand him much better. Orris never would be as friendly or sociable as Joe Wells and the other photographers, but he knew his work. One could learn a great deal from him.