“Hello—hello! H-e-l-lo! I want editor’s desk—10000 Greeley, and be quick about it!” snapped Eleanor, feeling quite irritable because of the loss of sleep, and the strange reporter’s laugh at her.
“Is this the night-editor?” now asked Eleanor, eagerly.
“U—um! May I speak to Mr. Dunlap—the reporter you assigned on the fire story uptown, to-night?
“Oh—he isn’t in? Well, but he said he would wait to take some important notes from me. I can’t believe he is out.
“Well, then, you may be the night-editor, but you sound exactly like that fresh reporter who spoke to me a moment ago. I cannot understand why you employ such rude youths as he is.”
Eleanor grinned to herself for she was quite sure she was speaking to the same reporter who answered the call, at first. An answering laugh convinced her she was right, and she hissed through the telephone: “If you knew who I was, you wouldn’t keep me sitting in the cold like this. Now you can either call Dunlap or I’ll give my story to your enemy downtown. The reporters of that paper are just dying to get my story.”
That proved miraculous. To prevent the downtown competitor from getting the story, the unknown was willing to turn it over to his opponent, Dunlap.
Eleanor recognised Dunlap’s voice the moment he took the ’phone, and she gave him some interesting personal facts about Polly and herself, and why they were now studying in New York. She talked for half-an-hour, praising Polly and her wonderful character, and finally began telling about the escape from Grizzly Peak at the time of the landslide. But Dunlap interrupted her with:
“I can’t get all of that in—we go to press very shortly.”
“Oh, dear! Can’t you run over here and get this photo of Polly, that I have ready for you?”