He had gone to Jimmie to obtain permission to go through the exchange files, and then a curious thing had happened. It puzzled him still. “How’d he know?” he grumbled. “How could he? And yet, he seemed terribly sure.”
Jimmie had been very cordial. “A fellow that’s Drew Lane’s friend is welcome here any time.” He had smiled a broad smile. “What are you looking up?”
“It has to do with the kidnaping of the Red Rover,” Johnny explained.
“The Red Rover!” Jimmie whistled. “What do you know about that case?”
“Several things.” Johnny had been on his guard. “Got a lot of disconnected facts. Why don’t you get in touch with Drew Lane and find out about it?”
“I am in touch with Drew.” A curious look came over Jimmie’s face. “Closer than even he may—” He had checked himself as if he had said too much.
Johnny looked at him and then a curious suspicion had popped into his mind. Jimmie was long and slim, little more than a skeleton in blue serge.
“A—a skeleton. A—” He had nearly thought another word, but not quite.
What he had said to Jimmie was: “Drew doubts the Galloping Ghost; thinks he’s trying to get him off on the wrong trail.”
Then again a strange look had flashed across the reporter’s face as he exclaimed in a tone suggesting anger: “You tell Drew he’d better stick by the Galloping Ghost. He’s giving him straight dope!”