dungarees, touched up his face and hands to the required griminess, and sallied forth.
Luck attended him until he reached the last morning newspaper on the list. Here he was obliged to proceed to the city room—risky business. A queer advertisement coming into the city room late at night was always pried into, as he knew from experience. Still, he felt that he ought not to miss any chance to reach Karlov.
He explained his business to the sleepy gate boy, who carried the advertisement and the cash to the night city editor's desk. Ordinarily the night city editor would have returned the advertisement with the crisp information that he had no authority to accept advertisements. But the "drums of jeopardy" caught his attention; and he sent a keen glance across the busy room to the rail where Cutty stood, perhaps conspicuously.
"Humph!" He called to one of the reporters. "This looks like a story. I'll run it. Follow that guy in the overalls and see what's in it."
Cutty appreciated the interlude for what it was worth. Someone was going to follow him. When the gate boy returned to notify him that the advertisement had been accepted, Cutty went down to the street.
"Hey, there; just a moment!" hailed the reporter. "I want a word with you about that advertisement."
