“Did your reporter hear that speech?” Quaid demanded in bewilderment.
“No. The boys all left when Forsythe got through. The A. P. man stayed, but he must have been drunk and gone to sleep. We couldn’t get anything out of him.”
“Listen, boss,” Barney broke in. “Somebody double crossed us, unless the spooks have been at work. I bet Hammond played in with the broadcasting station some way and got ’em to let him break in. The whole mischief’s been done for tonight. We better lie low till we find out how it was done.”
“Barney’s right,” Quaid decided, and stalked out.
Barney was right when he said the mischief had been done. But the following day only increased the mystery of how.
First thing in the morning, the fatal morning of the county conventions, Quaid began getting wires from leaders all over the State, asking instructions, and confirming the fact that every radio user outside of the dinner hall had heard the speech.
Also he had innumerable phone calls from people who had been at the dinner, asking what it was all about and confirming the fact that no one at the dinner had heard Hammond’s speech.
Following Barney’s hint, the staff at the radio broadcasting station were given the third degree. They swore that Hammond’s speech had come over the regular wire along with the rest of the dinner program.
Their announcer on duty at the hall that night could shed no further light, as he had gone home after the Forsythe speech, arranging with the toastmaster to give the radio “good night.”
Hammond himself, who had a reputation for truth telling, issued a statement to the afternoon papers exonerating the broadcasting staff.