Unable to solve the puzzle, Flash finally dropped off to sleep. He awoke to find Doyle shaking his arm.
“Roll out! Seven o’clock!”
As Flash dressed, Doyle made slighting remarks about his appearance, suggesting that it might be well to buy a new suit of clothes before they started for the lodge.
“Sorry but I can’t buy a new suit before I get home,” Flash replied, unmoved. “This one will have to do.”
They breakfasted at a café across from the hotel and by eight o’clock were ready to start for Clear Lake, twenty miles away.
As the sound truck rolled out of the city, Flash remarked:
“You sent Clewes a wire didn’t you, telling him we were after special pictures?”
“Well, no, I didn’t,” Doyle answered carelessly. “This is Friday. He won’t be around the office until Monday anyway.”
“Do you think we should pull out without leaving word?”
“Sure. After those flood pixs we turned in, Clewes will expect to give us a few days off. It’s customary.”