The Camera Chap frowned. “I recall now that somebody once told me that Gale’s father was the proprietor of a small paper,” he said. “I guess, Fred, it was the younger Gale who supplied the Oldham Chronicle with the information about that unfortunate libel suit of yours.”
“I haven’t the slightest doubt of that,” Carroll answered. “He and I never did get along together when I was on Park Row. In fact, I had occasion to punch his head only a few days before I got fired from the Sentinel. I guess he was tickled to death to have a chance to get back at me.”
Their conversation was interrupted at this point by a young man whose face wore a depressed, anxious expression as he stepped up to the editorial desk.
“Mr. Carroll,” he said gloomily, “I’m sorry to have to tell you that we’re going to be badly scooped in the next issue.”
“How so, Parsons?” the acting city editor demanded sharply.
“There’s been a big burglary in town,” announced Parsons, who was the Bulletin’s police reporter.
“A burglary—where?” Carroll demanded.
“That’s what I can’t find out, sir. I overheard two detectives talking about it together at headquarters early this morning, but as soon as they caught sight of me they dropped the subject in a hurry. I’ve been scurrying around town all morning in the hope of finding somebody who could tell me who was robbed, but I haven’t been able to pick up anything. I tried to get an interview with Chief Hodgins, but he refused, as usual, to talk to a Bulletin man.”
“Humph!” Carroll grunted. “And you think the Chronicle has the yarn, Parsons?”
“I am quite sure they have, sir,” was the mournful reply. “One of the detectives admitted to me that Burns, the Chronicle’s police reporter, had all the details, and a long interview with Chief Hodgins. I’m awfully sorry, sir. I hope you don’t blame me for falling down on the yarn.”