He completed his story, yanked out the final sheet, called for a copy boy, rose and sauntered over to the managing editor's door, before which he paused indecisively. The "old man" had been after him lately regarding the Hargreave story, and he doubted if his errand would prove successful.
However, he boldly opened the door and walked in.
"Humph!" said the "old man," twisting his cigar into the corner of his mouth. "Got that story?"
Norton sat down. "Yes, but I have not got it for print yet. Mr. Blair, when you gave me the Hargreave job you gave me carte blanche."
"I did," grimly. "But, on the other hand, I did not give you ten years to clear it up in."
"Have I ever fallen down on a good story?" quietly.
"H'm, can't remember," grudgingly.
"Well, if you'll have patience I'll not fall down on this one. It's the greatest criminal story I ever handled, but it's so big that it's going to take time."
"Gimme an outline."
"I have promised not to," with a grimness equal to the "old man's." "If a line of this story trickles out it will mean that every other paper will be moving around, and in the end will discover enough to spoil my end of it. I'll tell you this much: The most colossal band of thieves this country ever saw is at one end of the stick. And when I say that counterfeiting and politics and millions are involved, you'll understand how big it is. This gang has city protection. We are running them all into a corner; but we want that corner so deep that none of them can wriggle out of it."