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Read Ebook: Flash Evans Camera News Hawk by Bell Frank
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Ebook has 1877 lines and 42781 words, and 38 pages
"I can't tell from this distance," said the parachute jumper. "It looks like Albert Povy's automobile."
"Povy?" inquired Joe Wells in a startled voice.
"Yes, he's one of the few persons who has been interested in my new 'chute."
An odd expression settled over the newsreel man's face. He said no more. But, as the climb was resumed, he dropped some distance behind Brooks to whisper with Flash.
"If that's really Povy in the car, he must expect something to come of this test today! I'm telling you, his reputation isn't very good!"
Flash had no opportunity to learn more about Povy, for Bailey Brooks had paused. He waited on the trail until the two men caught up with him.
At the summit of the cliff the three flung themselves on a flat rock to rest. Bailey Brooks seemed nervous. His hand trembled as he lit a cigarette.
"This jump means a lot to me," he said. "Since my pal, Benny Fraser, was killed testing out the 'chute, government authorities have advised me that my design is unsound. But I know better. I'm willing to risk my life to prove it."
"And when you succeed, I imagine the government will suddenly take an interest," Flash remarked.
"Sure. They've had their experts studying the invention for months. They claim it has defects which can't be overcome."
Brooks arose, tossed aside his cigarette and began to strap on his harness.
"If I succeed everything will be swell. If I fail, I won't know it. So what's the difference?"
The man spoke with attempted carelessness. Yet, he could not hide his real feelings from the two observant photographers. He was not so confident as he would have them believe.
Joe Wells set up his automatic hand camera near the edge of the cliff, winding the spring motor and loading the film. Flash stationed himself at a slightly different angle, focusing his Speed Graphic.
"All set?" inquired Brooks.
A dizzy, nauseous sensation came over Flash as he gazed downward. If the 'chute failed to open--and the odds were against Brooks--would he have the courage to keep on taking his pictures? He wondered.
"Good luck, Brooks," said Wells. "Happy landing."
"I won't need luck," the man answered jerkily. "Not with a 'chute like this baby."
He stepped to the edge of the cliff. For a long moment he stood there, gazing out across the sea, savoring the glint of sunlight upon the tumbling waves.
"Whatever happens," he said, "keep grinding."
Then with lips compressed, face tense, he stepped off into space.
At terrific speed the body of the jumper hurtled toward the earth. The parachute did not open.
Grim-faced, his horrified eyes focused upon the falling figure, Flash shot his first picture. His heart was in his throat, but he was able to keep his hand steady. Swiftly he extracted the holder and made ready to take a second exposure.
"It's curtains," he thought. "The 'chute never can save Brooks now."
And then, even as he abandoned hope, the silken umbrella cracked open.
Perspiration oozed from Flash's forehead. Joe Wells laughed aloud, so great was his relief.
The danger, however, was not entirely over. As Flash took a picture of the great umbrella drifting downward, he noted that it was falling at a rapid rate toward the sea. For a time it appeared that Brooks would strike the water with great force.
But the aviator began to pull on the risers, and succeeded in working away from the shore. He landed in a plowed field some distance away. The wind billowed the 'chute, dragging him for a few feet. Brooks then skilfully pulled on the underside risers and the big umbrella flattened out.
"He's safe," observed Wells, taking a deep breath. "I hope he makes a fortune. A jump like that is worth it."
The two photographers began to pack their cameras into carrying cases.
"He was supposed to have been mixed up in shady espionage business a few months ago. I understand government operatives have kept a sharp eye on him."
"And now he seems to be interested in Brooks' parachute?"
"It looks that way. If Brooks has any sense he'll steer clear of the fellow. Suppose we get down there, Flash."
As Flash and Joe added their praise, a tall, dark stranger crossed the open space to the sound truck.
"A beautiful jump, Mr. Brooks," he praised. "You remember me, don't you? My name is Povy--Albert Povy."
"Yes, I remember you very well," the jumper replied dryly. "Did I demonstrate what my 'chute could do?"
"You certainly did," the man returned heartily. "It was amazing! I never would have believed it possible, if I hadn't witnessed it with my own eyes. You know, we may be able to do business together, after all."
A guarded expression came into Bailey Brooks' steel gray eyes.
"I'm open to propositions," he said.
"Come over to my car," invited Albert Povy. "We'll talk."
He handed over a card bearing the company address, and the truck rolled away.
Reminded that he had pictures of his own to rush back to Brandale, Flash stuffed the card into his pocket, and hurried to the waiting taxi. As he drove off he saw that Brooks had gone with Albert Povy.
"Wonder if he knows the man's reputation?" he thought. "I suppose he must."
Flash dismissed the matter entirely from his mind. He never expected to see either of the men again. His only concern was the possibility of future news stories or pictures.
The taxicab made a quick trip back to Brandale. Flash paid the bill and kept a receipt to show Riley as proof of his expense.
He was hurrying through the news room on his way to the photographic department when the editor hailed him.
"Hey, Evans, where have you been all afternoon?" The editor gave him a quizzical glance.
Flash paused. "Didn't Jerry Hayes telephone you?"
"Some kid called in. He said you were after a big picture."
"I nailed it, too," Flash said confidently. "Bailey Brooks just disregarded orders and tested his parachute out at Eagle Cliff."
"Killed?"
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