“It was exciting. Still, I can’t say I enjoyed it. Seeing two men go to their deaths—”
“I know,” Joe interrupted, “it shatters you, at first. That’s why so few men are any good as newsreel cameramen. But you have the stuff, Flash. Why don’t you take my job until I’m able to get around again?”
The abrupt question startled both Flash and Doyle. The latter could not hide a frown of displeasure.
“How about it, George?” Joe asked the soundman. “You’d like to have him work with you?”
“Oh, sure,” he replied without warmth. “Only I imagine district manager, Clewes, has a man hand-picked for the job.”
“Flash is on the spot. Another man would need to come here. I can send Clewes a wire.”
“Please don’t bother,” Flash said quietly. “This is my vacation.”
“It would be good experience for you.”
“I don’t doubt that, Joe. Perhaps, some other time I’ll try it.”
“Well, thanks anyway for pinch hitting,” the newsreel man replied gratefully. “That trip yesterday must have been quite a strain. You’re tough as a hunk of whang leather, Flash.”