“That’s interesting stuff,” decided the editor. “Run it full. Cut down that racing shot from Cuba. Now what do we have on the Japanese earthquake?”
For several minutes Flash watched the work of cutting and assembling the eight different subjects which would be used in the completed newsreel. He ended his tour by visiting a studio where the various shots were synchronized with music and the explanatory speech of a commentator.
“The releases will be shown in Brandale theatres in another hour,” Wells declared, escorting his friend to the elevator. “In this business speed means everything.”
Although he would not have admitted it, Flash was strangely impressed. Riding home in the bus, he reflected that Joe might be right about newsreel work offering more thrills than fell to the lot of an ordinary photographer. He would like to try it. But for the present he couldn’t consider leaving the Ledger.
At home a warm supper was waiting. As he shared the well-cooked meal with his mother and younger sister, Joan, Flash mentioned his assignment to cover the Indianapolis races.
“Working on your vacation?” Mrs. Evans inquired mildly. “Really, Jimmy, you need a rest.”
“Shooting a few pictures won’t be work, Mother. I’ll enjoy it. And I’ll get a free trip.”
It was true. Flash never had considered professional picture-taking as drudgery. Save for a month when persons had sought to undermine his job, he had thoroughly enjoyed the time spent on the Ledger.
Flash, who seldom answered to his real name of Jimmy, was seventeen, the son of a former newspaper editor. Since Mr. Evans’ death several years earlier, the little family of three had been hard pressed to make ends meet. But Flash’s recent salary increases had made things much easier. That was one reason why he could not give up a sure job for the more uncertain calling of newsreel cameraman.
“I see you have set your heart upon the Indianapolis trip,” Mrs. Evans remarked, “so you may as well pack your bag.”