“You mean with your by-line?”
“Good heavens, no. The articles would be anonymous. But I would give my warranty, in writing if desired, that the source of information is competent and reliable.”
“Who would have to be paid and how much?”
“No one. Nothing.”
“Hell, you don’t even need whiskers. What would the details be like?”
Wolfe turned. “Let him read it, Archie.”
I took Lon the original copy of what I had typed, and he put his glass down on the table at his elbow, to have two hands. There were seven pages. He started reading fast, then went slower, and when he reached the end returned to the first page and reread it. Meanwhile I refilled his glass and, knowing that Fritz was busy, went to the kitchen for beer for Wolfe. Also I thought I could stand a highball myself, and supplied one.
Lon put the sheets on the table, saw that his glass had been attended to, and helped himself.
“It’s hot,” he admitted.
“Fit to print, I think,” Wolfe said modestly.