Flash Evans

“ As his work at the office became heavier, Flash tended to lose interest in the fire case. Twice he was sent out to take strike pictures which won words of approval from Riley. His week-end pay check had been increased by another five dollars and it was evident he stood in favor.
Entering the office unexpectedly one morning, Flash overheard Fred Orris talking with another photographer in the darkroom.
“Evans is riding high these days,” said Orris contemptuously. “He sure has the big head and has it bad! One of these times we may see him take a tumble.” ”

“ Upon arriving at the Y.W.C.A. building everything was made easy for him. He merely said, “I’m Evans, from the Ledger,” and a kindly, white-haired lady who was the publicity director, took him in charge.
A dozen swimmers were waiting in the tank room. Flash had only to pose the girls on the diving board, set up his tripod and snap three flash-gun pictures.
Hurrying back to the newspaper office, he ran the films through the darkroom, and when the glossy prints were ready, offered them to Orris.
“Not bad,” the photographer said, “only you could have posed the girls better. Where are the names?” ”

“ 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. ”

“ Flash was in no mood to wait. A frenzy possessed him to get back to the lodge and confront both Rascomb and Doyle.
As yet, the full meaning of his important discovery was not entirely clear. But about one point he was certain. Albert Povy never had lost his life in the wreck of the streamliner. Instead, the man merely had found it expedient to disappear.
Rascomb actually was Povy!
Yet, it seemed fantastic. Had the man lived a dual life for years, planning toward the day when he might wish to blot out one personality and assume another? ”

“ Get down there, Charlie, right away! Where’s Ralston?”
“Not here yet,” spoke up Flash. “Nor Forrest either. Shall I go?”
The editor measured him with a glance.
“All right, Evans,” he muttered. “See what you can do. The fire may not amount to much.”
There was no mistaking the doubt in Dan Dewey’s voice. Everyone in the office had heard of Flash’s failure to bring back good pictures from the Gezzy-Brady fight. Since then he had been given only routine, unimportant assignments.
From far down the street came the wail of a fire siren. ”

“ There were no other shots, but in a few minutes Major Hartgrove and his posse came into the clearing with Rascomb manacled to one of the men.
“They got him!” Doyle exclaimed jubilantly.
Flash trained his camera on the group, and despite his excitement, managed to hold it steady as the film ran through.
Rascomb was grim but smiling as he was led to the waiting automobile. His gaze fastened upon Flash.
“You win,” he said grudgingly. “I didn’t figure you would have the courage to crash my plane. But then, you live a charmed life!” ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Rascomb replied with a show of solicitude. “A day in the hospital and he’ll feel like himself again.”
Flash started to speak and changed his mind. With the Captain against him he had no chance. Angrily, he started for the door.
“Wait!” commanded Captain Johns. “I have a few words to say to you.”
Reluctantly, Flash paused. The captain politely bade Gordon and Rascomb good evening, and departed.
Once in the hallway his manner immediately altered. Grasping Flash’s arm, he guided him toward the elevator.
“Don’t take what I said too seriously, Evans,” he advised. “There’s something wrong here. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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.” ”

“ 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 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. ”

“ The building owner shrugged. “But what good will it do? They’ve known for months that this sort of business was going on, but they can’t get evidence which will stand up. The gang is a big one and the higher-ups are too clever to be caught.”
“Mind if I take a picture or two?” Flash questioned abruptly.
“A picture? What for?”
“I’m Evans, a photographer for the Ledger,” Flash explained. “My paper may be able to use the story.”
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“Go ahead. I’d like nothing better than to see this so-called North Brandale Insurance Company exposed. Take as many pictures as you like.” ”

“ But I know it wasn’t the same man—Judd Slater—who originally tried to shake me down.”
“The fellow Jerry and I chased down the alley was about my height,” Flash contributed thoughtfully. “He wore a dark suit and a floppy-brimmed hat. Not much to go on.”
“I’d know the man by his voice if ever I ran into him again,” declared Sam Davis. “He had an unusual way of pronouncing his words. Oh, yes, another thing! He began nearly every sentence with, ‘Listen, you!’”
“You’ll report to the police, of course?” ”

“ 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.”
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“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.” ”

“ Jerry remarked.
“Not during working hours. You never know when a big picture may come your way.”
“Those were dandies you ran in the Ledger a short time ago,” Jerry recalled. “Cleaned up an arson gang by getting a picture of the head man, didn’t you?”
“The police did the work,” Flash corrected carelessly, “but my pictures helped. And on the strength of them, Editor Riley is giving me a month’s vacation instead of the usual two weeks. I start tomorrow.”
“Where are you going, Flash?”
“Don’t know yet. I may take in the Indianapolis auto races.” ”

“ Flash crossed the street and spent nearly half an hour waiting for the watchman to come out again.
“This was a crazy idea anyhow,” he thought. “Herm may not go to his home for hours. And I’m due to show up for work at eight.”
Just at that moment the watchman came out of the café. Flash turned his back quickly, pretending to gaze into a store window. The old man did not see him.
Again Old Herm started off at a leisurely pace, walking toward the waterfront. Flash correctly guessed that he was heading for a cheap rooming house district located in that particular section of Brandale. ”

“ What do you mean?”
“I don’t know myself,” Flash admitted. “I’ll be frank and say Rascomb has me puzzled.”
Driving back to Excelsior City, the newsreel men located themselves at the Parker Hotel. Not wishing to be far from a telephone, Doyle insisted upon dining in the building. Later he returned to his room. Flash remained in the lobby reading a newspaper until after nine o’clock.
Entering the bedroom, he found Doyle gloomily playing a game of solitaire.
“Your telephone call didn’t come through?” Flash asked.
“No! Rascomb must have been handing me a line! It’s enough to make a fellow sick!” ”

“ I wish I had a soft job like that.”
“Let’s see if we can find Old Herm,” Wells suggested, turning to Flash.
“No use. I think I’ll get my hat and go home.”
Wells did not speak until the two had been let off at the third floor.
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“I know what you’re thinking, Flash,” he said. “But you have Orris all wrong. He’s surly, and there’s no denying he’s been unpleasant to you, but he’s not the type to hit a man with a blackjack or steal films!”
“Did I accuse him?” countered Flash.
“No, not in words.”
“Let’s skip it, then. The pictures are gone, and that’s all that counts. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Flash chuckled. Unless he greatly over-estimated the pictures, they were the best of his career. Why, he might even win a by-line for himself! He could visualize the caption—“Photographs by Jimmy Evans.” Only a simple line which few newspaper readers would notice. But to a photographer it meant everything.
Flash returned the films to the water, and opened the door of the darkroom. Orris was still outside, talking with Joe Wells who had wandered into the department on his way home from a movie. ”

“ He felt satisfied the sportsman had not liked him particularly.
Unable to solve the puzzle, Flash finally dropped off to sleep. He awoke to find Doyle shaking his arm.
“Roll out! Seven o’clock!”
As Flash dressed, Doyle made slighting remarks about his appearance, suggesting that it might be well to buy a new suit of clothes before they started for the lodge.
“Sorry but I can’t buy a new suit before I get home,” Flash replied, unmoved. “This one will have to do.”
They breakfasted at a café across from the hotel and by eight o’clock were ready to start for Clear Lake, twenty miles away. ”

“ The News-Vue man inserted a sheet of printed paper in a typewriter, rapidly filling in the blanks.
“I’m getting ready to take off for Indianapolis tomorrow,” he remarked casually. “George Doyle started on ahead with the sound wagon about an hour ago. I follow by train and meet him there.”
“Maybe I’ll see you,” Flash replied. “I’m covering the races myself. For the Ledger.”
“I never could go back to working on a paper now,” Joe commented. “Too tame compared with the newsreels. Flash, why don’t you consider—”
“No!” Flash cut in with a laugh. “I’m not listening to any arguments.” ”