"It's stuff that is used for coloring strawberry ice cream. Dick bought it at a store. Looks like the real thing, doesn't it?"
"It looked real enough to give me a bad turn," admitted the editor dryly.
Then, in whispers, Harry told the story as rapidly as he could.
Mr. Pollock's face took on a broader grin as he listened.
"I'd hate to have young Prescott for my enemy," confessed the "Blade's" editor. "But this is the most atrocious joke I've ever known him to put up."
"We had to put a stop to Dodge and Bayliss," Harry smiled. "Perhaps you'd better go back to Dodge and Bayliss, now—-but please don't let 'em know that it's all a joke."
"I won't spoil the thing," promised the editor, and hastened out.
"I'll be with you in just a minute, gentlemen," nodded Mr. Pollock to Dodge and Bayliss, as he entered the editorial room, then sprang into the telephone closet, closing the door after him.
Mr. Pollock telephoned the sheriff of the county, and also the officer in charge at the Gridley police station, giving the officials a hint of the joke at the second lake, so they wouldn't rush away on a fool's errand in case the wild story reached their ears.
"Now I'll listen to what you two may have to tell me," announced Mr. Pollock, coming out of the telephone closet. "Then I'll have to ask you to hurry away, as Hazelton will have to be attended to and many things done. Talk fast, if you please."
Dodge and Bayliss poured out what they knew of the night's business.