Continuing the search, he located his equipment case which provided him with a stock of flash bulbs and film holders.
Without losing another moment, he began making a photographic record of the disaster. First he shot an over-all scene, showing the general wreckage. The derailed engine where two men had lost their lives, was worth another picture. He took one of the burned coach, one of the rail which had caused the wreck, and then turned his attention to human interest shots of the passengers.
A number of prominent persons had been aboard the train. Whenever he recognized a passenger he snapped a picture, but he wasted no film. Every shot told a story.
Gradually, Flash worked his way forward to where he had left Joe Wells. Failing to see the newsreel man he assumed that stretcher bearers had carried him to a waiting ambulance.
More for his own record than because it had news possibilities, he shot a picture of the crushed car in which he had been riding at the time of the wreck. As the flash went off, he saw a dark figure move back, away from him.
Reassuringly, he called to the fleeing person. There was no answer.
Instead, from the railroad right of way, a familiar voice shouted hoarsely: “That you, Evans?”
“Joe!” he answered.
He found the newsreel man sitting with his back to a telephone pole where he had dragged himself, there to await attention from the first available doctor.
“How are you feeling, Joe?” Flash asked him anxiously.