“And I’ll lose mine if I disregard orders,” the gateman countered.
Doyle alternately argued and pleaded, but to no avail. The gateman remained firm. And at last he lost all patience.
“Pull out of line,” he ordered sharply. “You’re holding up these other cars.”
Angrily Doyle swerved the truck, parking it a short distance away. His eyes smoldered as he turned toward Flash.
“Joe certainly used his brain when he sent you here without credentials!” he muttered. “Now how are we to get those pictures? Any brilliant ideas, Mr. Evans?”
CHAPTER V
TROUBLE AT THE GATE
There was no mistaking the sarcasm in George Doyle’s voice. It was his nature to lash out at others whenever he was confronted with difficulties. This realization alone kept Flash from making an angry retort.
“I have no ideas, brilliant or otherwise,” he responded quietly. “Still, there ought to be some way to get the truck inside.”
“How?”
“Isn’t there an official around somewhere who might listen to our explanation?”