“Come along, Larry,” said Mr. Newton. “We’ll see if we can solve this mystery and recover the diamonds.”
The two started off, followed by the rather envious eyes of some of the other reporters. It was considered an honor to be assigned to cover a big story, though professional etiquette forbade any reporter from saying anything.
At the Reynolds house they found a number of policemen on guard, to keep away the curious persons that had gathered as soon as the robbery became known in the neighborhood. One of the bluecoats attempted to bar the progress of Larry and Mr. Newton.
“From the Leader,” announced the reporter, as he nodded to another policeman whom he knew.
“It’s all right, Jim,” said the latter to the officer who had stopped Mr. Newton, whereat the reporter and Larry were allowed to enter the house. Inside they found a number of “plain clothes men,” as detectives are sometimes called, from the fact that they wear no uniform.
“Hello, Patsy!” called Mr. Newton familiarly to a short, stout, bald-headed detective, “what sort of a job have you been letting ’em pull off on you now.”
“Looks like a second-story one,” replied the detective.
“No more a second-story one than you are,” retorted another detective who stood near, making some notes in a book. “It’s an inside job.”
“Anyhow, the stuff’s gone I s’pose,” remarked Mr. Newton with a smile.
“Sure thing,” replied the fat man.