“No, but the fellows who have gone tell me he’s a wonderful host. Gives you everything.”
Flash dressed leisurely. As he combed his hair, he saw through the mirror that Doyle was watching him with a peculiar, speculative expression.
“Any plans for this morning, Flash?” he inquired casually.
“None in particular. I thought I would go over to the hospital. Would you like to come along?”
Doyle shook his head. He seemed relieved by Flash’s answer.
“No, I’ll be tied up all morning. I want to check over my sound equipment and get ready to roll when my new assignment comes through. Tell Joe hello for me.”
Flash ate breakfast and reached the hospital in time for the ten o’clock visiting hours. The door of Major Hartgrove’s room stood ajar. But the bed was empty and attendants were stripping off the linen.
A nurse was passing in the hall. Flash stopped her and inquired where he would find the Major.
“You are too late,” she replied. “Major Hartgrove left the hospital early this morning.”
Flash went on to Joe Wells’ room. He had made up his mind not to tell his friend of George Doyle’s treachery. However, when Joe again urged him to take the newsreel job for at least a month, he gave the matter rather serious consideration.