"And if I ain't a-going with you,
you ain't neither, for I know where Hefflefinger is to be, and you
don't, and I won't tell you."
"Oh, very well, very well," replied the sporting editor, weakly
capitulating. "I'll send the note by a messenger; only mind, if you
lose your place, don't blame me."
Gallegher wondered how this man could value a week's salary against
the excitement of seeing a noted criminal run down, and of getting the
news to the paper, and to that one paper alone.
From that moment the sporting editor sank in Gallegher's estimation.
Mr. Dwyer sat down at his desk and scribbled off the following note:
"I have received reliable information that Hade, the Burrbank
murderer, will be present at the fight to-night. We have arranged it
so that he will be arrested quietly and in such a manner that the fact
may be kept from all other papers. I need not point out to you that
this will be the most important piece of news in the country to-
morrow.
"Yours, etc., MICHAEL E. DWYER."
The sporting editor stepped into the waiting cab, while Gallegher
whispered the directions to the driver. He was told to go first to a
district-messenger office, and from there up to the Ridge Avenue Road,
out Broad Street, and on to the old Eagle Inn, near Torresdale.
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