The big politician ripped it open and ran his eyes rapidly over the yellow slip. From his lips burst a sudden oath of surprise.
“By Jupiter, the miracle's happened. Jeff is alive and on his way here. He's sent me a wireless from out at sea somewhere.”
“What!” Captain Chunn let out a whoop of joy.
“Listen here.” Rawson read aloud his message. “'Shanghaied on schooner Nancy Hanks. Escaped at Honolulu. Back in Verden to-night. Keep up the fight.'”
“Didn't I say Jeff was alive? Didn't I say he would come back and beat those robbers yet?” the owner of the World demanded.
“Don't get excited. It may be a fake.” This from Hardy, who was almost as much moved himself.
“Fake nothing! We'll go down to the telegraph office and make sure it's 0. K. Won't this make a bully story for the World 'Shanghaied' in big letters across the top, and underneath a red hot roast of the old city hall gang's methods of trying to defeat the will of the people.” Rawson laughed aloud as his imagination pictured the story.
The old soldier's eyes gleamed. “I'll run twice as many copies as usual. We'll plaster the state with them, calling for mass meetings everywhere to insist on the legislature passing our bill.”
“Go easy, gentlemen,” advised Rogers. “If it's true we hold a trump card, but we want to play it mighty carefully so as to make it carry as much dynamite as possible.”
The company could give no information more definite than that the message had come from the Bellingham, which was still a couple of hundred miles out at sea.