During the past nine months Flash had worked as a photographer on the Brandale Ledger and, of necessity, his pleasures had been somewhat curtailed. Yet, he still found time to swim at the “Y,” and on this Saturday had given up his lunch hour to play basketball.
The two friends quickly dressed. As they left the “Y” building together, Flash strapped a Speed Graphic camera over his shoulder.
“You never go anywhere without that thing, do you?” Jerry remarked.
“Not during working hours. You never know when a big picture may come your way.”
“Those were dandies you ran in the Ledger a short time ago,” Jerry recalled. “Cleaned up an arson gang by getting a picture of the head man, didn’t you?”
“The police did the work,” Flash corrected carelessly, “but my pictures helped. And on the strength of them, Editor Riley is giving me a month’s vacation instead of the usual two weeks. I start tomorrow.”
“Where are you going, Flash?”
“Don’t know yet. I may take in the Indianapolis auto races.”
The pair had reached a street corner. As they halted to wait for the traffic light to change, an automobile rolled leisurely by close to the curb. Flash stared.
“See that fellow at the wheel!” he exclaimed, grabbing Jerry’s arm.