“Thanks, Peters, no. I’ve only done a newspaperman’s work; what the Enquirer pays me to do. You’re all man; and it’s been a pleasure to clear you.”
To Leslie, again the master newspaper mind, calculating the minutes swiftly slipping around after midnight, he snapped:
“It’s in your hands now, Chief. Keep everybody here and stall around for an hour or so, while Norton and I give the town a story that, if it doesn’t make a case in court against Fogarty and Bannerman, will at least chase Fogarty out of town till it blows over and beat Bannerman out of the nomination for Superior Judge. His name comes before the convention to-morrow night. We’re off.”
Then to me as we swiftly pelted out of the room:
“Key up to it, Norrie; this is some stem-winder!”
VIII
AT THE END OF THE LONG NIGHT