“That’s one reason why I noticed him looking at that section of the map. He made a detailed study of it, but never asked a question of me nor any of the boys who serviced the car for him.”
There was no further information to be gained at the garage and Tim and the chief copyreader returned to the News office.
“Looks like you’re on the trail of a real story,” commented Dan. “What’s going to be the next angle of attack?”
“The files. I’m going to start with this month and go back into them day by day. Somewhere I’m sure there will be a picture that will give me the identity of ‘Mr. Seven.’”
The afternoon passed in routine tasks but when the final edition rolled from the press Tim went over to the room which housed the paper’s library and ordered out the files for the last year. When they were available he carried the large, sturdily bound books to his desk where he placed them one on top of another. Ralph’s desk was not in use and he opened the last volume of the file and placed it there. Drawing up a chair he started the slow task of scrutinizing every picture which had appeared in the News for the last year.
The job was doubly difficult since one of the boasts of the News was that it carried an interesting picture on every page. Members of the staff left the office, one by one, until Tim alone remained, bent over the file and scanning the pages as he riffled through them.
Daylight faded and he snapped on the light over Ralph’s desk. Under the glow of the electric he continued his task until his shoulders ached from the continued strain of bending over. When he finally straightened up it was 7:30 o’clock and the telephone was buzzing.
“Atkinson News,” said Tim.
“Hello, Tim,” said Carl Hunter. “There’s a big amphibian coming in within the next half hour. Thought you might want a story. We don’t get many ships like that here.”
“Who’s on board?”