“Where?”
“Right here with me now. In a hideout on East Eightieth Street. Listen: This Double Z business—”
“Wait, I’ll put Gaynor on, if you can’t get in with the story.”
“No, no, boss!” came the protest. “Wait until I give you the dope. I’m afraid something may happen if I don’t get it off my chest quick. Judge Tolland is alive. He’s given me a statement. He knows who Double Z is. Don’t think I’m crazy, boss! Double Z is—”
The voice broke off. Simultaneously, Ward heard the sound of a revolver shot over the wire. Three more followed in rapid succession. There was a clatter of a telephone falling.
“Hello! Hello!” called the city editor.
Vague sounds came through the receiver. Ward fancied that he heard a gasp. A sharp click ended the chaos. The phone was hung up at the other end.
“Gaynor!” shouted the city editor. “Try to locate where that call came from — the phone number! Quick! I heard shooting.”
He singled out another reporter.
“Up to Eightieth Street, Briggs,” he said. “East Eightieth. Take Stewart along with you. Try to locate Caulkins. He was calling from somewhere up there. There was shooting in the place where he called from.”