“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.