“It seems like a rotten trick to double cross the old pape,” he mused. “Mr. Carroll has always treated me pretty white. That time when I was laid up with a broken ankle he sent me wages around to the house every week, and kept me job open for me until I was well again.”
The thought caused him to hesitate on the stairway, but the hesitation was only momentary. There came to his mind, just then, the recollection of that time when he had asked the proprietor of the Bulletin to give him a chance as a reporter, and Carroll had laughed uproariously at the suggestion.
That recollection was sufficient to harden his heart. “The Chronicle is willing to make me a reporter, at fifteen dollars a week,” he mused. “Wouldn’t I be a chump to pass up this grand opportunity? I guess Carroll will be darned sorry he laughed when he sees me coverin’ police for the rival pape.[Pg 47]”
Ten minutes later he was once more in the private office of the proprietor of the Chronicle.
The Gales, father and son, received him with great cordiality. “Did you get them, young man?” the elder Gale inquired eagerly.
“Yes, sir,” replied Miggsy, throwing the films upon the desk. “Here they are, sir.”
“But how about the prints, Mr. Miggles?” the younger Gale demanded anxiously. “You don’t mean to say that you left them behind?”
“There wasn’t any prints,” the boy explained. “Neilson, our photo-engraver—I mean their photo-engraver—hadn’t made any. These negatives were all they had.”
“You are quite sure of that?” the younger Gale demanded searchingly.
“Yes, sir; I am quite sure. I was very careful to see that no copies were left behind.”