“You can leave reporters out of this,” snapped Sladek. “I guess I’ll be able to get along all right.”
Tim, standing behind him, grinned. He was certain that “Mr. Seven” and Jack Sladek were bound for the valley of the Cedar on the same mission. Neither one wanted publicity.
Sladek, his two bodyguards and his pilot, left the airport in a taxicab. After the amphib had been rolled into a hangar and berthed for the night, Hunter turned to Tim.
“What do you make of him?” he asked.
“He’s after something big,” said the flying reporter, “or he wouldn’t have flown out here. Another thing, he doesn’t want any publicity on his arrival. All of which makes me sure that there is a big story over in the valley of the Cedar.”
“That means you’ll be heading that way tomorrow morning.”
“Maybe before that.”
“Trying to land there in the dark would be suicide.”
“I don’t think a plane will do a whole lot of good on a story like this. I’ve a hunch that a car and a good pair of legs may be best.”
It was eight-thirty when Tim returned to the office to plunge again into the files in quest of the identity of “Mr. Seven.” A scrub woman at the other end of the office looked at him curiously, then went about her work. There was no explaining the action of these newspaper men who came and went at all hours of the night.