“Classic?”
His question came in a wildly eager whisper. Judge Tolland, eyes gleaming expectantly, stood close beside the reporter, tense and hopeful.
“City desk,” ordered Caulkins.
A pause. Both men were strained. The time it took for the connection seemed interminable. It was a matter of seconds only, but to Tolland those seconds were hours.
A voice came over the wire. Tolland saw Caulkins clutch the phone more firmly. The reporter’s lips began to move, and Tolland’s hands gripped the edge of the table as he leaned close to catch the words from the other end of the line.
Vindication! His opportunity was here. After months of persecution, he had decided upon the vital step.
Within the next few minutes the persecution which had threatened him would be ended.
For Caulkins was about to reveal the identity of the man called Double Z — reveal it so all the world would know the secret of that man who gloried in crime.
CHAPTER III. DOUBLE Z STRIKES
THE reporter at the city desk in the Classic office placed his hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone and called to the city editor.