Upon his way to work Monday morning, Flash bought an early edition of the Ledger. A hasty glance assured him that his pictures had not been used.
Riley was occupied making out an assignment sheet when Flash passed his desk. He did not glance up. Flash hesitated, then paused and spoke.
“I see you didn’t use my fire pictures, Mr. Riley.”
“What’s that?” the editor barked.
Flash repeated his words.
“Fire pictures?” Riley demanded. “Didn’t find anything of the sort on my desk.”
“I left an envelope with a note of explanation. That was late Saturday night.”
“Better ask Clingston about it,” said Riley carelessly. “He came on at midnight.”
Flash nodded and entered the photography department. The room was deserted. He debated a moment, then looked up Clingston’s telephone number and placed a call.
A sleepy voice answered: “Yeah? Clingston speaking.”