“And you want—oh, such a funny language—you want a carrot?”
“No, a ‘beat,’” explained Larry, with a smile. “An exclusive story—I want to ‘beat’—get ahead of—all the other papers.”
“I see. Well, I will help you. It may be that my son was taken away to but, temporarily, frighten me—to bring me to terms. In that case he will be brought back to me soon—by to-morrow morning, or I will hear from those who have him. Now, then, if I do not hear, then you may print the story, and I will see no one but you until after it comes out. After that—when the world knows—I am afraid many reporters will——”
“Of course they will!” cried Larry. “You’ll be overwhelmed with them, but the more publicity you have the better for you. You’ll have every one in these United States on the lookout for your boy. Newspapers help a lot. All I want is the first story, and after that the others can come in.”
“All right. I agree to your plan. It’s a good one. But do you know who that man with the decoration was? He is Señor Delcato Parloti, a plotter, and schemer, and the enemy of my late husband. Oh, how I fear him!”
“And those other two men—to whom he signaled?”
“I do not know them—perhaps his aids. Oh, this is terrible!” and once more she gave way to her grief.
Presently she mastered herself again, and resumed:
“I have friends—powerful friends, and I will set them quietly on the trail of this Parloti. If I do not have word with him by morning, or if I do not hear from him, then I will send for you, and you may have the story.
“In fact, you may have the story anyhow, for in one case it will be about the return of my son to me, and in the other——”