Frank Bell

“ Those who stood in a circle about the watchman were staring at him with a new expression.
“Herm, I’m afraid breaking the plate won’t get you out of this,” the head photographer said coolly. “Your guilt is fairly well established in the minds of every person in this room.”
“Why did you do it, Herm?” asked Flash.
“I didn’t! It ain’t fair to try to make me lose my job.”
“You’ll be lucky if you don’t spend your declining days in jail,” Orris said sharply. “It’s a serious business, tampering with pictures, not to mention striking a man with a blackjack.” ”

“ Flash and Doyle drove through Clear Lake at ten minutes of five. Houses were dark, the streets deserted. There was no police delegation to meet them.
Doyle nervously fingered the loaded revolver.
“It looks as if we’re on our own,” he said. “Unless that chauffeur gave us a bum steer.”
They were drawing near the private air field. Flash snapped off the headlight beams. As the car swung around a bend of the road, they saw the cleared field ahead of them, shrouded in the morning mists.
Flash leaned forward. A plane stood near the hangar, propeller turning, blue flames licking from its exhaust. ”

“ Whirling around, he saw that the newcomer was Fred Orris, who evidently had returned upon hearing the commotion.
“Say, what’s the big idea?” the head photographer demanded. “Beating up an old man!”
Flash glanced down at the whimpering figure on the floor. Poor old Herm! But he steeled himself against a feeling of pity. The watchman was deserving of no sympathy or consideration.
“Herm is the one who stole my arson picture!” Flash accused. “He’s been trying to make trouble for me from the day I started work here, adding chemicals to the hypo tank and doing dirty little tricks to ruin my work!” ”

“ Flash did not tell her what he had in mind. He had decided to try to learn more about Old Herm, his habits, and where he lived. If his plan came to nothing, no one need ever know that he had regarded the watchman with suspicion.
Even before the alarm went off at five o’clock, Flash was awake. He dressed quietly, and brewing himself a strong cup of coffee, caught a bus going downtown.
Timing himself, he drew near the rear entrance of the Ledger building at exactly six o’clock, the hour Old Herm went off duty. He stepped into the loading dock where Jeff, a colored boy, was polishing a car. ”

“ Quiet settled over the lodge. After a short time Flash heard a car drive out of the yard. There was a shuffling of shoes through the gravel, then a heavy step outside the door.
“Fleur!” he shouted, pounding on the panel.
“Take it easy, young feller, take it easy,” the caretaker called soothingly. “It won’t do you no good to try to pound your way out o’ there. Mr. Rascomb’s gone for the doctor.”
“Let me out of here, Fleur!” Flash pleaded. “Rascomb will get away! You don’t know who he is! He’s Albert Povy, a spy—”
“You’re plumb out o’ your head just as Mr. Rascomb said,” Fleur returned sadly. ”

“ One glance disclosed that the warehouse was being fired. The men had connected up two electric irons which they placed in a box of excelsior. It was a simple and effective device. The irons would slowly heat, giving the pair ample time to make their getaway without directing suspicion to themselves. Later, in the early hours of the morning, the fire would break out.
Unexpectedly, Flash heard footsteps on the stairway. He held himself rigid, listening. The two men in the furnace room likewise were aware of the sound. ”

“ Burdened as they were with heavy equipment, they took it slowly, proceeding in easy stages.
Presently, pausing to rest, Flash glanced downward. He noticed that a coupe had drawn up in a clump of bushes not far from the cliff. A man with field glasses was watching their progress.
“We have an interested watcher,” remarked Flash. “Wonder who he is?”
Both Joe and Bailey Brooks turned to gaze in the direction indicated.
“I can’t tell from this distance,” said the parachute jumper. “It looks like Albert Povy’s automobile.” ”

“ The news room had begun to stir into life. Sauntering through, Flash saw a few reporters at their desks, but Forrest and Ralston, two night-shift photographers, had not yet appeared. Dan Dewey, the editor who would be in charge of the desk, nodded casually to Flash. ”

“ Quickly he made his telephone call from the lobby of the hotel.
“I’m glad you’ve changed your mind,” Joe told him gratefully. “Can’t you come over to the hospital before you leave town?”
“Afraid not. We’re starting in a few minutes.”
Joe Wells hesitated, and then said: “You’ll get along fine, Flash, if you manage to stay on the good side of Doyle. He can help you a lot. But I’ll give you a tip. If he takes a dislike to a fellow, he knows all the ways of making it plenty tough.”
“Everything will be fine, Joe. I’ll manage. And your job will be waiting whenever you want it back.” ”

“ After the older man had moved to another part of the room, Joe Wells praised Flash again for his fine work, and demanded all the details of his thrilling experience at the fire.
“Too bad you didn’t get a shot of yourself hanging to the old man’s wrists!” he chuckled. “What a picture that would have made!”
“I wasn’t worrying about pictures at that moment. I was trying to save my neck! Orris doesn’t seem to think much of my work.”
Wells shrugged as he turned to leave. “Oh, you can’t tell what that bird thinks by how he acts. Keep on the way you’ve started and you ought to get a raise. ”

“ Doyle demanded eagerly. “And keep on with News-Vue?”
“Well, for a few weeks. But I’ve promised to return to the Ledger.”
“You’ll have a job waiting with News-Vue whenever you want it,” Doyle predicted. “And you’ll come back. Once a newsreel cameraman, always one. The excitement seeps into your blood.”
“Yes, Doyle, you’re right,” Flash said heartily. “Taking ordinary pictures will seem pretty tame after this. One of these days I’ll probably be coming back.” ”

“ Staggering against the window sill, he motioned to the photographer. His lips moved, yet made no audible sound.
“Stay where you are!” shouted Flash. “Don’t go away! I’ll bring help!”
45
He was not certain the old man understood or would obey. But he dared waste no time by repeating his instructions. At any moment the fellow might be overcome, or the walls might fall.
Flash ran to the window where he had last seen the engine man. The hose lay there but the fireman was gone, evidently called to a more urgent post. ”

“ His tone was so explosive that Flash jumped. He dropped into a chair opposite the army man.
“Evans,” said the Major, “I’ve tried to locate you ever since the night of the wreck. Where have you been hiding?”
“Indianapolis,” Flash returned, and explained how he had substituted as a cameraman for Joe Wells.
“So you’re a professional photographer?” inquired the Major. “Took a few pictures of the train wreck, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have they been published?”
“I couldn’t say. I sent some of my films to the Brandale Ledger. Haven’t had time to hear from my editor yet.” ”

“ Dan Dewey decided. “Get busy!”
Flash and Orris rushed their pictures through in record time, making prints from wet negatives. Not until each picture had been captioned and sent to the photo-engraving department did they allow themselves a moment to relax.
“What a night!” said Flash, sinking into a chair. “Wonder what became of Old Herm?”
Orris shrugged in his characteristic way.
“Who cares? He won’t make you any more trouble. I imagine he’ll never show up at the Ledger again after what happened. But if he should be dumb enough to try to keep his job, I’ll drop a hint in the editor’s ear.” ”

“ Flash insisted. “For years the man has been living a double existence. As Rascomb he’s acted the part of a wealthy, upstanding citizen. As Povy—well, I don’t know much about his past.”
“Albert Povy was one of the most daring spies the government ever encountered,” explained Captain Johns. “He caused us great embarrassment. Recently, evidence piled up against him. Had his death not occurred, he would have been arrested within forty-eight hours.”
“I saw him on the train,” Flash said. “At the time it appeared to me that he might have been shadowing Major Hartgrove.” ”

“ Flash shook his head. “I can’t understand it,” he mumbled. “The pictures were okay when I left them. Someone must have tampered—”
“See here, Evans,” Orris broke in sharply, “don’t try to pass the buck. No one around here would have any interest in ruining your films. In any case, I’ve been sitting at my desk most of the time.”
“I wasn’t trying to offer an alibi. I can’t understand it, that’s all.”
“Let me tell you this, Evans. In professional news photography nothing pays off except knowledge. Guess work won’t get you far. Darkroom procedure must be scientifically exact.” ”

“ He was trying to buy Bailey Brooks’ parachute after the successful test.”
“Oh, sure,” nodded Doyle. “He wasn’t killed in the wreck?”
“His name is listed.”
Doyle guided the sound truck through traffic at a reckless pace, deliberately stealing the right-of-way from timid motorists.
“If Povy’s dead, then Bailey Brooks is out of luck,” he remarked in a matter of fact tone. “Too bad for him.”
“And for Povy, too,” added Flash dryly. “However, from what I’ve heard of the man, his death may not be such a great loss to humanity.” ”

“ Old Herm muttered. “That’s bad. Nasty lookin’ cut, too. Will it get you into trouble, losin’ your picture?”
“It won’t do me any good,” Flash returned.
Turning, he followed the police officer down the hall, leaving the old watchman to stare after them.
When they were beyond earshot, Flash said: “You were satisfied with his story?”
“Oh sure,” replied the policeman carelessly. “You were right. He’s only a foolish old fellow. No motive for the crime.”
“For that matter, what reason would anyone in the building have for doing such a trick? A personal grudge against me?” ”

“ Rascomb touched his arm.
“We should be starting back,” he said. “The wind is bringing the fire this way. If the brush should catch behind us from a flying brand, we might easily be trapped.”
Flash shouldered his camera. At a fast pace they started down the hillside.
Reaching the boat, Rascomb tried once more to start the motor and failed. For the first time he displayed anxiety.
“I’ll feel safer when we are beyond the pass,” he said, seizing the oars. “But the current should take us down fairly fast.”
Rascomb rowed tirelessly, refusing to allow Flash or Doyle to relieve him. ”

“ Flash was ashamed of the thought and dismissed it as quickly as it entered his mind. No use trying to alibi his failure. The deed was done. He alone must accept responsibility for the result. As Orris had said, he couldn’t expect to learn at the paper’s expense.
Dreading to go home, Flash wandered into Joe’s hamburger shop, loitering there until the night edition of the Ledger reached the street. Then he bought a copy.
The paper carried three excellent photographs of the fire with no identifying by-line to tell whether Ralston or Forrest had taken them. ”

“ After an instant of debate he decided to talk with Major Hartgrove by long distance telephone before taking any action against Rascomb.
“Accusing a man of being a spy even when I know it to be true, is ticklish business,” he thought. “I’ll need someone to back me up.”
Flash entered the hotel. He crossed to the desk and asked for the key to his room.
“Mr. Evans!” exclaimed the clerk. “We understood—that is, your friend told us you were lost in the forest fire!”
“I’m very much alive,” Flash snapped. “When did you last see Doyle?”
“I haven’t noticed him in the lobby since midnight.” ”

“ Flash seldom went anywhere without his miniature camera and a few extra flash bulbs tucked in his pocket. He was grateful now for the habit which made it possible to take advantage of a golden opportunity. He snapped two pictures of Sam Davis, one showing him trussed up, and another against a background of smoking ruins. As he finished, firemen clomped down the stairway.
“Don’t need you boys,” the building owner called cheerily. “Fire’s out. Thanks to these young fellows here.”
Flash and Jerry waited while the firemen inspected the basement. The odor of gasoline was strong. ”

“ Without waiting for Jerry’s reply, he signaled a taxi, leaping on the running board as it slowed down.
“Follow that green sound truck!”
The chase led through the business section of Brandale into open country. There the car and sound truck chose a road which wound along the ocean. Some twelve miles from the city, they both drew up at the base of a high cliff overlooking the beach.
“Wait for me,” Flash instructed the driver.
As he stepped from the cab, he saw that his hunch had been right. Bailey Brooks was unloading parachute equipment from his automobile. ”

“ Minutes later two sailors hauled him over the side into the bottom of the boat.
“They say there’s one born every minute,” remarked a ship’s officer grimly. “After watching you jump from that plane, I believe it!”
“Had to get aboard some way,” grinned Flash, wriggling into a dry jacket which a sailor offered him.
“Reporter?”
“Photographer for the Brandale Ledger. I aim to get some films our paper bought from a survivor of the Alexander.” ”

“ The automobile had been held up by a red light. Jerry was staring at the driver with deep interest when a green-painted sound truck bearing the sign, News-Vue Picture Company, rolled up directly behind the car.
“Say, that sound truck seems to be following Bailey Brooks!” Flash exclaimed, excitement creeping into his voice. “Something must be in the wind!”
“Sure looks that way,” agreed Jerry. “The newsreel lads must be after pictures.” ”

“ It was not quite four o’clock.
“Never saw things so dull since I’ve been on the Ledger,” Joe Wells yawned. “A few more days like this, and we’ll be laid off.”
Flash took his friend seriously. “I’ll be the first one to go,” he said, “because I’m the youngest man.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Wells replied. “We didn’t need an extra photographer when Riley hired you. He took you on because you showed a lot of promise. Your work has been all right, too.”
“But nothing spectacular.”
“Spectacular pictures don’t drop into a fellow’s lap every day. You’ll get your big chance one of these days, Flash.” ”

“ Doyle related their success, taking most of the credit upon himself. Joe listened with a tolerant, half-amused attitude.
“Where was Flash while all this was going on?” he inquired dryly.
“Flash?” Doyle was brought up sharply. “Oh, he was right at my elbow. He helped a lot.”
“I figured he might. You know, big stories and smash pictures always have a way of breaking around him. He’s better than a rabbit’s foot any day!”
“We were lucky yesterday,” Flash admitted with a grin. “Those auto crashes seemed to have been staged for our special benefit. I only hope the films turn out well.” ”

“ You surely don’t think poor Old Herm sneaked in here last night and blackjacked you?”
“I haven’t any definite theory,” Flash replied evasively.
“Well, don’t get ideas about Old Herm. He’s simple minded, but hardly a criminal. Why, the fellow has a crippled leg—”
“Just the same, he could have done it. He’s strong as an ox.”
175
“You’re almost as goofy as Old Herm,” Wells scoffed. “First you think Orris did it, and next you blame the watchman. Maybe it was Riley!”
“I’m not accusing anyone,” Flash defended himself. “All I’m doing is trying to check every angle and keep an open mind.” ”

“ Evans raved so much and told such an outlandish story that Fleur considered him out of his head. He locked him up and telephoned me. I immediately ordered his release.”
“Your story is very smooth,” said Flash, “but there’s one little detail you can’t gloss over. How about that scar on your cheek?”
“I have no scar.”
“Prove it,” Flash challenged. “Take off those bandages!”
Mr. Gordon spoke with exasperation.
“We are trying to be patient. You make it most difficult. In returning to Excelsior City this evening from his hunting lodge, Mr. Rascomb was in a motor accident. Hence the bandages.” ”

“ Firemen had carried hose into the dwelling and were shooting a steady stream of water through the windows, across a narrow areaway.
“I might get some unusual shots from up there,” thought Flash. “Anyway, it’s worth trying.”
Unchallenged, he entered the smoke-filled building, and climbed to the fifth floor. Letting himself into a deserted apartment suite opposite the flaming building, he set up his tripod, and focused his camera upon an engine man who was feeding a stream of water across the areaway. ”

“ Captain Johns pressed his finger steadily on the elevator signal bell. When the cage did not immediately ascend, he started up the stairway. Flash followed him.
“It was the hotel clerk who telephoned me,” he explained. “Major Hartgrove can’t be located. His room is empty and there is evidence of a brutal attack!”
“Rascomb—” Flash began only to be cut short.
“How could Rascomb have had anything to do with it?” Captain Johns demanded with a snort of impatience. “We were with him for the past twenty minutes. Young man, you should devote your talents to picture taking.” ”