The face of the chief of police turned the color of a ripe plum.
“If I had my way, I’d march him to jail so quick that it’d make his head swim,” he said furiously. “And I’d do the same with you, too, you fresh young muckraker. But I’m telling you the truth,” he added more mildly. “I ain’t come here now to arrest him. I’m here to invite him to come over to the city hall and see the mayor. His honor wants to have a talk with him—a friendly chat. If you don’t believe that’s on the level, you can get the mayor on the phone and ask him.”
“Oh, I guess I won’t bother,” said Carroll, still incredulous. “Tell the mayor that if he wants to see Mr. Hawley he’ll have to go to New York.”
“Do you mean to say that he’s gone back to New York?” exclaimed Hodgins uneasily.[Pg 45]
“If he’s followed my advice, he must be on his way there by this time,” was the guarded reply.
The chief seemed to be stunned by this information. For a full minute he stood there, silent and frowning. And then, greatly to Carroll’s astonishment, he swung on his heel and departed without a word.
Unable to believe that he had got rid of him so easily, and suspecting some trick, Carroll stepped to a window of the editorial room, which commanded a view of the entrance to the Bulletin Building. He saw Hodgins emerge from the building, and walk slowly up the street toward the city hall, without once looking back.
“Looks as if he’s really gone,” the proprietor of the Bulletin muttered. “Queer that he didn’t insist upon searching.”
Then he went downstairs to the pressroom to assure the Camera Chap that for the time being, at least, the danger was passed.
Chief Hodgins had gone away really convinced that Hawley had gone back to New York. It was just what a young man placed in the Camera Chap’s position might be expected to do, he thought; so he was quite ready to believe it.