_A NEWS BREAK_
Jimmy scarcely knew whether or not to take his sister seriously, but he
quickly finished his work and stepped out of the darkroom. Gazing from
the window at the end of the hall he saw a police cruising car parked by
the curb.
He bounded down the stairway. Two blue-coated policemen were in the
living room talking with his mother.
The sergeant arose, surveying him with an appraising glance. “You’re Jim
Evans?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We want to talk to you about the auto accident at the corner of Summit
and Clark. The lady who owned the blue sedan gave us your name as a
witness. Said you took some pictures.”
“That’s right. I just finished developing them.”
“How did they turn out?”
“They’ll make good prints.”
“Do the license plates show?” asked the policeman.
“Yes. I snapped the hit-and-run driver, too, and his companion.”
“Let’s have a look at those films.”
Jimmy led the two policemen upstairs where they examined the wet films.
For several minutes they studied the negatives in dead silence while the
sergeant compared the car license number with several he had noted down
in a little leather book.
“That black sedan was a stolen car,” he said. “Probably abandoned by
this time.”
“The heavy-set bird looks like Legs Jovitch,” added the other policeman.
“Can’t be sure from this film. Son, rush these through, will you? We’ll
have prints made at headquarters.”
“I oughtn’t to take them out of the water for a minute or two yet,”
Jimmy protested. “And they take quite a while to dry—”
“Push ’em through as fast as you can,” the sergeant interrupted. “I’ll
telephone headquarters.”
As Jimmy worked in the darkroom with the second policeman at his elbow,
he thought swiftly. While he wished to cooperate with the law, he didn’t
like to relinquish the films and a possible opportunity to profit from
them. Vaguely he recalled having read a newspaper story about Legs
Jovitch being a notorious bank thief who had escaped from New York state
police. Quite by luck he had come into possession of pictures which
might pack a news punch.
“I’m glad to let you have these films except for one thing,” he said to
the policeman. “I thought I might sell them to the _Ledger_.”
“Tell you what we’ll do. It’s against regulations but you can ride along
to headquarters with us. We’ll have extra prints made there.”
“Suits me fine.”
“Now what do you remember about those two men?”
Jimmy provided the best description he could and was surprised that his
mind as well as his camera had photographed so many details.
“Sounds like Legs, all right,” the policeman nodded. “The fellow with
him may be Al Morgan—he’s wanted for shooting his way out of a bank down
state.”
The films were partly dry by the time Sergeant Bedlow tramped back
upstairs after making his telephone call.
“We have orders to proceed to Morewell Avenue right away,” he reported.
“We’ll pick up those films later on.”
“You can take them now if you’re careful not to let them touch
anything,” Jimmy replied quickly. “Want me to go along and handle them
for you?”
“The boy figures on selling his pictures to the _Ledger_,” explained the
other policeman. “I told him he could ride along with us and get some
extra prints at headquarters.”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
Jimmy followed the two men from the house, not forgetting to tuck his
miniature camera into his coat pocket.
“Jump in,” invited Sergeant Bedlow.
Jimmy climbed into the rear seat of the big sedan. He pinned the damp
films to a chromium crossbar so that they would swing free.
The car left the neighborhood street and toured down Jackson Street to
Florence Boulevard. Suddenly the sergeant slammed on the brakes,
scrutinizing a black sedan without license plates which was parked at
the curb.
“That looks like the same car!” cried Jimmy. “I remember the front
bumper was partly torn away.”
The cruiser pulled up and the two policemen went over to look at the
sedan. They made a systematic, unhurried inspection, finally locating
the missing license plates hidden under the back seat.
“This is the car we’re looking for,” said Sergeant Bedlow. “Stolen two
days ago from a party in the Heights.”
While the policemen went on with their methodical search, Jimmy snapped
a picture of them standing beside the abandoned car. Their inspection
completed, they made out a report and returned to the cruiser.
The car had not traversed a block when the radio under the dashboard
came to life.
“Cruiser 6.... Calling Cruiser 6.... Proceed to corner of Dover and
Jefferson. Two men reported in vicinity answering description of Jovitch
and Morgan. Cruiser 6.... Cruiser 24.... Cruiser 12.... Calling....”
Sergeant Bedlow swung the wheel and turned the car around. They took the
corner on screeching tires, heading for Dover and Jefferson streets,
twelve blocks away.
A thrill of excitement ran down Jimmy’s spine. He leaned forward,
watching the road. With siren wailing, they zoomed through red lights
and passed all slow moving traffic.
Minutes later they swerved to a stop before a dilapidated frame
building. A police car, a small coupe, was parked not a dozen yards away
and a third, a big cruiser, careened into the narrow space beside them.
From inside the dwelling three shots rang out. There came an answering
report.
“Keep down!” ordered Sergeant Bedlow sharply. And then to his
companions: “Come on boys! We’ll run those rats out of there!”
As Jimmy crouched low, the policemen both leaped from the cruiser,
revolvers drawn. But as they moved swiftly up the walk, the front door
of the house swung open. The two men who had been in the black sedan
were marched outside, escorted by police officers. The heavy-set one
held his right arm which had been wounded.
Jimmy stared. Then, realizing that he was losing a grand opportunity, he
sprang from the cruiser and focused his camera. His hand trembled as he
opened the shutter. He had ruined the exposure.
Steadying his nerves, he quickly took a second and third picture. He
finished with one at close range while the prisoners were being loaded
into a police car, handcuffed to their captors.
“Well, son, you got some real pictures this time,” grinned Sergeant
Bedlow.
“Are the men really Legs and Morgan?”
“If they aren’t, someone has made a bad mistake. Sure, they’re the ones,
all right. Tried to shoot it out when they were cornered.”
Jimmy asked several questions about the brief gun battle, and then
added:
“I want to rush my pictures straight to the _Ledger_ office. How about
those auto crash films? Will you need them now that you’ve caught the
men?”
“No hurry if we do. Take them along. And if you’re heading for the
_Ledger_ we’ll drop you off there on our way to headquarters. Hop in!”
Jimmy needed no second invitation. He jumped into the cruiser again, and
they sped back to the downtown section of Brandale. At the _Ledger_
office, he leaped off, the precious films and camera held tightly in his
hands.
The elevator shot him up to the third floor. Brushing past the
receptionist who sought to halt him, Jimmy walked straight to Riley’s
desk. The editor looked up, scowling.
“I have them!” said Jimmy. “Pictures with a real news wallop! Take a
look at these films.”
The auto crash negatives had dried during the wild ride in the police
cruiser. He slapped them down on Riley’s desk.
“What is this?” the editor asked wearily. “Another auto wreck? Now you
ought to know we can’t use that stuff unless it has an unusual angle.”
“This has. The car was stolen—”
“Brandale has anywhere from six to a dozen taken each day.”
“But this car was driven by Legs Jovitch.”
“What?” demanded Riley.
“The other man is Al Morgan. They crashed into a car driven by a Mrs.
Clyde Montross. After they abandoned their sedan, the police surrounded
them in a rooming house on Jefferson street. Both were captured after an
exchange of shots. Jovitch was wounded in the right arm.”
The news did not excite the editor as Jimmy had confidently expected.
Riley looked interested but skeptical.
“Say, are you trying to pull a fast one on me?” he demanded. “We’ve had
no such report here.”
“That’s because I was the only person on the scene except the police. A
cruiser dropped me off here. You can check all my facts. And I have
pictures of the capture undeveloped in my camera.”
Riley came to life.
“Higgins!” he bellowed to a reporter. “Get busy on the phone. Call the
police station and find out if they’ve captured Legs Jovitch! Then get
Mrs. Clyde Montross on the wire. Boy! Run these films into the
photographic department and tell ’em to rush prints. Let’s have those
other films, Evans.”
A reporter, hat pushed back on his head, came running breathlessly into
the office.
“Big story, Chief!” he gasped. “Police have captured Legs Jovitch and Al
Morgan! Haven’t been able to get all the details yet.”
“Here’s someone who can supply them,” barked Riley, jerking his head in
Jimmy’s direction.
The newsroom had been thrown into confusion. Reporters clicked telephone
receivers impatiently as they sought to speed calls. Miss Breen was sent
to the morgue to locate clippings and photographs dealing with the
unsavory history of the two notorious characters. Rapid fire orders went
to the composing and photographic departments.
In an incredibly short time the finished prints were laid on Riley’s
desk. He ran through them with a critical eye, throwing out those which
he considered without merit. The others he marked for page one.
“Evans—” the editor’s voice held a note of respect. “You’ve rung the
bell. We’ll give you twenty dollars for the lot.”
Jimmy smiled, and shook his head.
“Thirty, then. They’re good pictures. I won’t quibble.”
Jimmy reached for the prints.
“Say, what do you want?” Riley asked with biting sarcasm. “The _Ledger_
building?”
“Only a little niche in it. A job.”
Riley’s face flushed an angry pink and the veins stood out on his
forehead. Then, unexpectedly, he relaxed and laughed.
“You have your nerve, Evans! Holding me up like this.”
“I’m only following your advice,” grinned Jimmy. “Trying to use my
head.”
“You’re using it all right,” muttered Riley.
“Do I get the job?”
“You do. Start tomorrow at eight in the photographic department under
Fred Orris. Twenty-five dollars per week. You’ve made a spectacular
beginning, Evans, but I’m giving you fair warning. Follow it up with
good steady work if you expect to remain on the _Ledger_ payroll!”