“I’m holding out for seven fifty.”
“We can’t pay it,” Flash replied shortly. “We’re offering to buy your films undeveloped. They may not be worth a dime to us when they’re printed. We’ll be lucky if we get two or three good pictures in the lot.”
“Seven fifty.”
“See here,” said Flash, “I risked my life to get these films, and I don’t like to go back without them. But six hundred is our limit. Take it or leave it.”
He was bluffing. Riley told him to pay what he must for the pictures. But he didn’t like to be held up. And he thought, too, that he detected signs of weakening.
“All right, the films are yours for six hundred,” the passenger agreed suddenly. “That is, if you’re prepared to pay in cash.”
“I am.”
Flash took out the waterproof container, and to his relief found it perfectly dry. He stripped off several crisp bills without allowing the man to see the extent of his bank roll. In turn, he received eight rolls of camera film which he replaced in the holder.
His most important mission accomplished, he next turned his attention to the survivors of the Alexander. Every available cabin, the salons and decks were crowded with men, women, and children, many dressed in clothing borrowed from sailors of the Belmonia.
Circulating among the passengers, Flash found them more than willing to tell of their experiences. He obtained many dramatic accounts of the explosion, the sinking of the vessel, and the timely rescue. While the captain of the Alexander had gone down with his ship, he talked with other surviving officers who were able to give him a list of the known dead and missing.