|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 103
"I thought he might be there." Now that the reaction was setting
in, the girl was faint and she controlled herself with
difficulty. "I was looking for him and as soon as I heard the
first explosion I ran down the steps into the film-vault
entrance--I was right near there--and I found him, stunned. I
started to lift him, but there were other explosions almost
before I got to his side. The flames shot out through the cracks
in the vault door and I--I couldn't drag him to the steps; I had
to pull him back where you found us." She began to tremble. "It--
it was terrible!"
"Was there anyone else about, anyone but Mr. Shirley?"
"No. I--I remember I wondered about the vault man."
"What was Mr. Shirley down there for, Miss Loring?"
"He"--she hesitated--"he said he had seen some one hanging around
and--and he didn't want to report anything until he was sure. He--
he thought he could accomplish more by himself, although I told
him he was--was wrong."
"Whom did he see hanging around?"
"He wouldn't tell me."
Shirley was too weak to question and the girl too unstrung to
stand further interrogation. In response to Manton's call several
people came up and willingly helped the two toward the comfort of
their dressing rooms.
At the fire chief's suggestion the stream of water into the
basement was cut off. Manton led the way, choking, eyes watering,
to the front of the vaults. Feverishly he felt the steel doors
and the walls. There was no mistaking the conclusion. The
negative vault was hot, the others cold.
"The devil!" Manton exclaimed. A deep poignancy in his voice made
the expression childishly inadequate. "Why couldn't it have been
the prints!" Suddenly he began to sob. "That's the finish. Not
one of our subjects can ever be worked again. It's a loss of half
a million dollars."
"If you have positives," Kennedy asked, "can't you make new
negatives?"
"Dupes?" Manton looked up in scorn. "Did you ever see a print
from a dupe negative? It's terrible. Looks like some one left it
out in the wet overnight."
"How about the 'Black Terror'?" I inquired.
"All of that's in the safe in the printing room; that and the two
current five reelers of the other companies. We won't lose our
releases, but"--again there was a catch in his voice--"we could
have cleared thousands and thousands of dollars on reissues. All--
all of Stella's negative is gone, too!" To my amazement he began
to cry, without attempt at concealment. It was something new to
me in the way of moving-picture temperament. "First they kill her
and now--now they destroy the photographic record which would
have let her live for those who loved her. The"--his voice
trailed away to the merest whisper as he seemed to collapse
against the hot smoked wall--"the devil!"
The fire chief took charge of the job of breaking into the vault.
First Wagnalls attempted to open the combination of the farther
door, but the heat had put the tumblers out of commission.
Returning to the entrance of the negative vault itself, the thin
steel, manufactured for fire rather than burglar protection, was
punctured and the bolts driven back. A cloud of noxious fumes
greeted the workers and delayed them, but they persisted. Finally
the door fell out with a crash and men were set to fanning fresh
air into the interior while a piece of chemical apparatus was
held in readiness for any further outbreak of the conflagration.
Manton regained control of himself in time to be one of the first
to enter. Mackay held back, but the fire chief, the promoter,
Kennedy, and myself fashioned impromptu gasmasks of wet
handkerchiefs and braved the hot atmosphere inside the room.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|