voice sounded from the foot of the stairs.
"Yes, sir," answered the boy, throwing open the door and springing to the head of the stairs.
"Mr. Bradley, of 'The Blade,' wants to talk with you over the 'phone. In a hurry, too, he says.
"I'll be right there, Dad. Coming, Dave?"
Darrin nodding, the two chums ran down the stairs to the bookstore. Dick caught up the transmitter and answered.
"That you, Dick?" sounded the impatient voice of News Editor Bradley.
"This is Dick Prescott, Mr. Bradley."
"Then, for goodness' sake, can you hustle up here?"
"Of course I can."
"Ask your father if you can take up a late night job for me. Then come on the jump. My men are all out, and everything is at odds and ends in the way of news. I can't get a single man, and I wish I had three at this minute."
"Dave Darrin is here. Can I bring him along?"
"Yes; he's not a reporter---but he may be able to help. Hustle."
"I'll be walking in through the doorway," laughed Dick, "by the time
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