“And while we’re trying to find him the races will be underway. We may as well admit defeat and go back to the hotel.”
“Let’s wait,” urged Flash. “How about trying another entrance?”
Before Doyle could reply, two sound trucks bearing the name of a rival film company, rolled slowly past and halted. The technician recognized one of the men and hailed him jubilantly.
“Hello, Benny! Do a fellow a favor, will you? Tell the gateman we’re okay.”
“What’s the matter?” the other driver asked. “Can’t you get inside?”
“Lost our passes.”
“Now isn’t that too, too bad!” The rival newsreel man grinned wickedly as he shifted gears. “Never saw you before in my life, George. Watch for our pictures on the screen!”
The two drivers flashed their passes and drove on through the gate. Doyle glared after them, calling names under his breath.
Abruptly, Flash leaped to the ground. Without explaining to Doyle, he walked back to the entrance.
“No arguments,” the gateman forestalled him. “You can’t get through without a pass, and that’s final. Maybe you’re telling a straight story, but orders are orders.”