“Oh, yes—one more question. When are you planning to leave, Professor?”
At that, Martin Stevens and his daughter exchanged a swift glance. Then, with a smile, Diane said:
“I see no reason why we shouldn’t tell him, daddy.”
“But we didn’t tell the reporters from the other papers, my dear,” protested her father.
“Then suppose we give Mr. Hunter the exclusive story,” she said, transferring her smile to Larry now. “It will be what you call a—a scoop. Isn’t that it?”
“That’s it.”
She caught her father’s acquiescing nod. “Then here’s your scoop, Mr. Hunter. We leave to-night.”
To-night! This was indeed a scoop! If he hurried, he could catch the late afternoon editions with it.
“I—I certainly thank you, Miss Stevens!” he exclaimed. “That’ll make the front page!”
As he grasped the door-knob, he added, turning to her father: