"What did you say the name was? Matthews—Matthews—is that it? Wait, please!" The news-editor put his hand over the mouth piece of the telephone.
"Know anything about him, Bat?"
"I should say I do! Choke it off! He's staying with Missionary Williams at the Indian School, and you know about how much love is lost between Williams and Moyese."
"But we can't possibly suppress this, Bat. It will be all over the country."
"Better see whose ox is gored," advised Brydges.
"But we've got to get this, Brydges! The stage driver's told one of my men, already! Every bar-room buffer in the country side will know it by night."
"Then you had better get it straight," advised Bat.
The news-man looked in space through eyes narrowed to an arrow. Bat watched sleepily. "If we choke this old chap's account off, can you give one to us?"
"Got it in my pocket! I've just come in on the stage!"
"I thought you came down in a motor with the Senator? Didn't he take the morning limited for Washington?"