“Guess I am at that,” Flash admitted cheerfully.
The sailors fell to rowing steadily, and in a short while the boat came alongside the Belmonia.
Stepping on deck, Flash found himself confronted by Captain Sorenson, a stern, red-faced, well-built man of sixty, whose clipped words dropped like chips of steel. In no uncertain language he gave the bedraggled young man to understand that he had committed an inexcusable offense in causing the Belmonia to be detained. Flash accepted the berating as his just due, responding, “Yes, sir,” and “You are quite right, sir,” until with a shrug of impatience, the captain took himself to the bridge.
The first mate, a man with twinkling blue eyes, stepped forward and said to Flash in a low tone:
“That fellow over by the railing is the one who has the films for sale. He has bought up everything on board. I understand two other papers besides yours have radioed him offers.”
Flash thanked the officer for the friendly tip and hastened over to speak with the man who had been pointed out to him. He quickly introduced himself, explaining why he had boarded the ship. As he had feared, the passenger immediately adopted a shrewd attitude.
“Well, I don’t know about letting you have the films,” he said.
“You made a definite deal with us,” Flash reminded him.
“Sure, I know, but a man has a right to change his mind. I’ve already been offered six hundred for the films. I’d be foolish to let them go for less. These eight rolls are the only available pictures of the explosion.”
“I’ll match the offer,” said Flash. “Six hundred dollars.”