“Don’t know,” Luke shrugged. “He may want you to take some publicity pictures. Better see him at any rate.”
Flash walked on toward the station. It still lacked five minutes before the special plane was due to arrive. He entered the building and spoke to one of the clerks.
“Has Mr. Clausson been here this morning?”
“Left only a minute ago,” the man answered. Moving to the window, he pointed out a figure which could be seen walking slowly toward a hangar at the far end of the field. “If you hurry you may be able to catch him.”
“Thanks.”
Flash walked as fast as he could, overtaking the man at the doorway of the Triway hangars.
“Mr. Clausson?” he inquired.
“That’s my name. What can I do for you.”
“I’m Flash Evans from the Ledger.”
“Well?”