Elated at his success, he pushed his way through the milling crowd to the street. He was jubilant over the streak of luck which had turned an ordinary assignment into a big story.
“Riley can’t do any kicking this time,” he thought. “I ought to have four dandy pictures.”
Back at the newspaper office he closed himself into the darkroom and placed his films in the developing tank. He set the timing clock. When it went off he removed the films. Eagerly he studied the first one under the ruby light.
For a minute Flash could not believe his own eyes. The film was dark! Not a single detail was visible.
With frantic haste he examined a second film, and the remaining two. Every one had been over-exposed.
Weakly, he sagged against the wall, nearly overcome by the disaster which confronted him. Every film ruined! An icy feeling of dread trembled along his nerves.
“But how could I have done it?” he muttered. “Must have figured my lighting wrong.”
After several minutes he opened the door and stepped out into the blinding light. Joe Wells, who also had been on a special night assignment, was putting away his camera. He stared curiously at Flash.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “You look sick.”
Flash showed him the blank films and explained what had happened.