Absently he reached for it and then straightened to alert attention. Grabbing a sheet of copy paper, he scrawled a few words. Eyes focused upon him, for instinctively everyone knew that something important had happened.
DeWitt hung up the receiver, his eyes staring into space for an instant. Then he seized the telephone again and called the composing room.
“Hold the paper!” he ordered tersely. “We’re making over the front page!”
The news was electrifying, for only a story of the greatest importance would bring an order to stop the thundering presses once they had started to roll.
Calling the photography room, DeWitt demanded: “Is Salt Sommers still there? Tell him to grab his camera and get over to the Conway Steel Plant in double-quick time! There’s been a big explosion! They think it’s sabotage!”
The editor’s harassed gaze then wandered over the little group of remaining reporters. Elda pushed toward the desk.
“You want me to go over there, Chief?” she demanded eagerly.
DeWitt did not appear to hear her. Seizing the telephone once more, he tried without success to get two of the men reporters who had left the office only a few minutes earlier.
Slamming down the receiver, his gloomy gaze focused upon Elda for an instant. But he passed her by.
“Miss Parker!”