“I’ve got a great story!” exclaimed Peter. “It’s about that Italian singer and her son. It’s a peach!”
“Too late!” said the city editor briefly.
“Too late?” gasped Peter. “Why?”
“Because the Leader is just on the street with the whole yarn, double-leaded, and with scare heads. You’re ‘scooped,’ Peter! Come on in and fix up something to cover us, but we’re beaten to a frazzle.”
“Well, I’ll be jiggered!” exclaimed Larry’s rival, as he hung up the telephone receiver. “They fooled me! This is another one you’ve put over on me, Larry Dexter!”
But Larry had other things to think of, now that he had secured his coveted “scoop.” One of them was to provide for a “follow,” or secondary story, and the other was to get on the trail of the men who had spirited the little lad away.
“For there was more than one in this game,” decided Larry.
He thought of the big, well-dressed man, with the foreign decoration on his coat, and the two rather poorly-dressed individuals in the back of the hall to whom the other had signaled.
“I think those three are in it,” decided the young reporter, “and I’ve got to get some clews that will lead me to them. What had I better do first?”
A moment’s thought told him that the best source of information was Madame Androletti herself.