“Yes, sir.”
“When you’ve cleaned up, follow us. The Herald has another assignment where you and I won’t clash.”
The puzzled Buck watched the editor withdraw, trying to decide just what this meant. Ned and Alan taking charge of the older men, Bob held back a moment.
“You’re Russell, ain’t you?” exclaimed Buck. “My name is Stewart. I’m in the business too.”
“I’ve heard all about you,” answered Bob. “You came near makin’ a mess o’ things by tippin’ our hand.”
“I reckon I ought to say I’m sorry but you know the game. It’s all right now; I’m fired from the job. And I guess it don’t necessarily mean I’m promoted, either. The city editor didn’t tell me to quit. So I stuck another day. Now I’m holdin’ a fine, large empty sack.”
Bob leaned over and caught Buck by the shoulder. The grimy Stewart was instantly alert.
“Say, kid,” said Bob in a half whisper, “there’s something doin’. Wash up and get on our trail.”
“Am I in wrong with the old man?” asked Buck eagerly in the same tone, catching Bob’s hand.
“Not so’s you could notice it,” answered Bob with a significant wink. “Trail us.”