“No, thanks,” Flash replied shortly.
Joe Wells, who was near, followed him into the darkroom and closed the door.
“Guess you heard what happened to my fire pictures,” Flash said in a low tone. “I can’t figure out what went wrong.”
“Neither can I,” answered Wells. “I fished those films out of the basket and looked at them. Never ran into anything just like it before. Now you go ahead and develop these films while I watch.”
With the photographer standing at his elbow, Flash followed exactly the same procedure which he had used the previous afternoon. The ship pictures came up quickly with good contrast.
“They’re all right,” said Wells with emphasis. “Orris can’t kick on those, or Riley, either.”
“My fire pictures were good, too. Something happened to them while they were in the water.”
“Who was here after you left?”
“Only Orris so far as I know. You don’t think he would play a dirty trick just to get me fired?”
“I hear Orris has a nephew he’s been trying to get into the department for over a year,” Wells remarked thoughtfully. “Still, I’m sure he wouldn’t do it. Orris may be a crab but he’s not a snake.”