“Well, son, you got some real pictures this time,” grinned Sergeant Bedlow.
“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.”
“Brandale has anywhere from six to a dozen taken each day.”
“But this car was driven by Legs Jovitch.”
“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.”
“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.”