“I hope he doesn’t get into trouble on my account.”
“He won’t unless Luke Frowein spills the story.”
“Does Luke know?”
“Yes, he was in the darkroom at the Globe while I was talking with Deems. I didn’t know it until later. He ought to be decent enough to keep quiet.”
With Joe looking on, Flash rushed the picture through and sent it to the news room. He waited for the summons. It came.
“Is this the best you can do, Evans?” the city editor demanded. “We send you to get good fight pictures and you come back with one shot of the second round! What were you doing—sleeping?”
“I took some others,” Flash admitted lamely. “They weren’t clear enough to print.”
“If you expect to stay with the Ledger you’ll have to buckle down and do better.”
The editor glared and, writing a caption for the picture, tossed it into a wire basket.
A wave of relief passed over Flash. He wouldn’t be discharged, after all. At least, not before the end of the week. But he had been warned.