“This is a tough break,” said Wells, “though you’re not the first photographer who has had the same experience. Know what it means?”
Grim-lipped, Flash nodded.
“Riley will fire me. My work hasn’t impressed him much anyhow.”
Wells stood looking at the black films, frowning thoughtfully.
“There’s just one chance,” he said, “a pretty slim one at that. Do you know Deems of the Globe?”
“Only when I see him.”
“Was he assigned to the fight tonight?”
“Yes, I saw him there taking pictures. But I don’t see—”
Wells did not bother to answer. Grabbing his hat, he started toward the door.
“You stay here,” he instructed. “Don’t tell anyone about those films until I get back! Deems is a friend of mine. If I can locate him in time, I may be able to save your job.”